#BUT THINKING ABOUT HIS RAGE.......I KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE SO ANGRY........ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

owlwithanapple · 1 day ago

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Life is change

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Y/N 🥰

♥️♥️♥️ I love the character Ghost very much. I want him to be happy and have a different life. A happy marriage, family and love. If you like it, please reblog my fanfiction. You are also welcome to give me comments to motivate me to write more and more exciting works. 🖤🖤🖤

Ghost and you have been married for over few years and have always had a very harmonious relationship. Unexpectedly, had a quarrel. Because had a fight about work and he acted rashly to save Gaz. You ran away from home in a rage and went back to your brother Soap Mactavish's house. “Soap! I’m gonna stay here for a while.”

Soap was sitting down on his couch reading a newspaper when he suddenly heard the loud banging on the front door. He quickly placed the paper down on his coffee table then got up off the couch and approached the front door before opening it. Standing there was you in an obviously annoyed state. Soap chuckled slightly before looking at you with a small smirk. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. What's wrong? You look pissed.”

“Your fucking teammate Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley has pissed me. Last operation with Gaz, he acted rashly to saved Gaz.”

Soap sighed heavily as he listened to your explanation, not being surprised to heard that Ghost acted rashly and was being an idiot. Soap said as he shook his head and then placed a hand on his forehead before looking back at you. “Of course he did...that idiot. So that's why you’re here? Because of some argument between you and Ghost?”

“Yup. I’m angry, that’s why I’m here.”

Soap chuckled softly then stepped to the side, allowing you to come in. He said with a smirk, which caused you to give him a look. He shrugged it off and began to walk over to the couch, sat down and then gestured for you to sit down to. “Well you’re welcome to stay for as long as you want. Just don't let me hear any complaining while you’re here. So how angry are you at Ghost then? On a scale of 1 to 10.”

“Hmph! He doesn’t care about me and my feelings. Keep doing rashly things. He’s saving Gaz and hit by bullet. I was angry and about to explode.”

Soap chuckled softly as he listened to your complaints. He knew that Ghost's tendency to act rashly would inevitably cause a reaction out of you. Soap could practically hear Ghost's voice in his head saying I can take care of myself. Soap shaking his head as he leaned back onto the couch. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to hold yourself back from blowing up every time he does something stupid. But you still love him though, right?”

“Hmph! But…He doesn’t even call me or find me! That’s shitty skull mask husband!”

Soap chuckled softly at your insult toward Ghost, finding the nickname that shitty skull mask husband to be an amusing as he let out a sigh. He said before taking a pause then looking at you again. “Yeah I don't think Ghost is smart enough to do that. He's not really one to apologize for anything either. That man is dense as hell. But I still think you love him, don't you? I know you do.”

“Hmph! Of course I do. I just don’t want him reckless.”

Soap smiled slightly as he heard your words before letting out a deep sigh and leaning his head back onto the couch. “Ghost doesn't know any other way to work. He's the type to throw himself into life-threatening situations and come out of them uninjured. I'm surprised he hasn't suffered any major injury all these years of service.”

Soap said before looking at you again, his expression becoming more serious. “Just try to remember that he's doing all of it to keep other people safe. That includes yourself.”

“I don’t care others, I care my fucking husband. I’m a medic, you know how hurt my heart especially I patching my skull husband?”

Soap let out a heavy sigh and nodded his head, understanding how you felt. “I know how you feel. I feel like Ghost is gonna give me a heart attack everytime he risks his life. But I've known him for many years, so I know he'll always be able to get out of trouble.”

He paused for a few moments before looking you in the eyes. “But Ghost isn't just your husband, he's a soldier first. He has to prioritize his duties over his personal life.”

“Tch, don’t remind me that. I just want to complaint about my skull face husband.”

Soap smiled slightly at your response before letting out another sigh, realizing that nothing he said was really gonna make any difference. “Trust me, I know you're worried about Ghost. I am too, everytime he goes out on a mission, I sit by the phone wondering if he's coming back this time. But I know he will.”

He looked at you then patted you on the shoulder. “Ghost probably is feeling bad right now you know, even if he'll never admit it.”

“Hmph! I watched the tv first. Bye, Soap.”

Soap chuckled as he heard you before waving you off. “Alright, I'm gonna make some lunch later if you want any. Just hollar.”

He said before you began to walk away, his expression turning slightly more serious again as he muttered to himself. “That idiot Ghost better not have gotten himself in trouble this time.”

Soap was busy cooking lunch in the kitchen, suddenly heard the sound of the front door being opened. He paused for a moment listened to the sound of footsteps entering the house. “That must be-"

His thoughts were cut off when he saw Ghost enter the kitchen, still wearing his black tactical gear. Soap's expression hardened slightly at the sight of him. “Speak of the devil.”

Ghost didn't say anything at first, his expression as blank and unreadable as always underneath the mask. He took a few more steps into the kitchen before finally speaking in his familiar raspy voice. “Soap.”

Soap nodded his head in acknowledgment before taking a closer look at him, noticing the various injuries he had sustained. “You really did it this time, didn't you? Looks like you took a beating.”

Ghost shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if the injuries he had received were nothing serious, and replied with a dry tone. “I've had worse.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, knowing that Ghost had a tendency to downplay the severity of his injuries. “Of course you have. But this time you've done a good job pissing off her. I don't think I've ever seen her so angry before.”

Ghost's body stiffened at the mention of you, and for a moment, Soap could see a hint of guilt in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual emotionless mask. “She's angry with me?”

Soap raised an eyebrow at his response, surprised that he was even asking that question. “Yeah, she's beyond angry. She came over here earlier, ranting and raving about how you're not caring about her feelings and how you always act rashly during missions.”

Ghost's expression remained unreadable, but Soap could tell that the words were getting to him. He let out a heavy sigh and spoke, his voice slightly strained. “She doesn't understand the work we do.”

Soap shook his head and let out a snort of derision. “She's a medic, dumbass. She understands better than you think. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost let out a scoff of disbelief, feeling insulted by Soap's words. He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke in a defiant tone. “She worries too much.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head once again, not surprised by Ghost's lack of insight. “You know that's what happens when you marry someone. They worry about you because they care about you.”

You heard their conversation, you cleared your throat and clenched the fist then approached to interrupt them. “No need to persuade him, Soap. He doesn't need to know, and he doesn't want to know.”

Soap and Ghost both turned to look at you as you interrupted them, Soap looked slightly surprised while Ghost's expression remained as blank and unreadable as ever. Soap took a step back and raised his hands slightly in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I was just-“

Ghost interrupted him and took a step forward, his voice still lacking in any emotion. “You're here.”

“Of course I’m here. My brother’s home. A home that I stayed before I married.”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the pair of you, sensing the tension in the air. He took a step back and leaned against the counter. Ghost's expression remained blank, but Soap could see a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes as he spoke. “You're angry with me.”

It wasn't a question, more of a statement. You rolled your eyes and responded with a sharp tone. “Of course I'm angry with you. You're always acting rashly and putting yourself in danger without even thinking about how it affects me.”

Ghost's jaw clenched at your words, his expression still blank but you could see the frustration building within him. He let out a scoff and spoke in a defiant tone. “You don't understand. My job is dangerous. It's what I do.”

Soap shook his head and spoke up once again, trying to diffuse the situation. “She knows that, Ghost. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost turned to Soap and snapped back, his voice rising in volume. “I don't need anyone worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I just don’t understand why my husband wants to push me away? I’m a medic and I know the risks. But…it’s my fault that I worry my husband more? Tell me, Simon. I beg you.”

Ghost let out another heavy sigh and shook his head, his expression still conflicted. “It's not your fault for worrying. That's the natural response someone has when they care about someone else.”

He took a step forward and reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “But I don't want to be the reason you're worried all the time. I don't want you to constantly be worrying about me getting hurt or killed on the field.”

“Simon. Listen carefully, I’m your fucking wife. I’m the person who says I do when you proposal to me. So I fucking definitely will worrying about you, even you just accidentally cut your finger!”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his usual blank expression softening into a small smirk under his mask. “You're a stubborn one, aren't you?”

He took a step forward until he was standing directly in front of you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and spoke in a quieter voice. “I know you'll worry about me. I can't stop you from doing that. And I know you'll be there to patch me up if I get hurt.”

“That’s right, because I’m a fucking medic.”

Ghost chuckled softly again and nodded his head in agreement. He paused for a moment and then spoke again, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, you're a damn good medic. You've saved my life more times than I can count. But you're also a damn good wife.”

“Hmph. So you know I’m not just a medic, also your wife. I thought I’m just a statue.”

Ghost nodded his head and a small smirk appeared on his face. “Yeah, I know you're more than just a medic. You're my wife. My partner. The one person who's always there for me, no matter what.”

He took a step closer to you and spoke in a quieter voice, the tone of his voice changing to a more serious one. “And I know that I don't deserve you, but I'm thankful to have you. I'm still grateful for the day you said I do.”

You could feel your heart rate increasing as he spoke, his words making you feel slightly flustered. Soap cleared his throat from the side, reminding you of their presence. You blushed slightly and turned to look at Soap, who was watching the two of you with a sly smile on his face. Soap chuckled and spoke up, his tone teasing. “Looks like the lovebirds are getting all cozy over here.”

You rolled your eyes ignoring your brother then stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his masked cheek, feeling the rough material brush against your palm. Took a deep breath, still feeling the anger and worry in heart. “I married you because I love you, Simon. But it's because I love you that I worry about you all the time. I can't help it. You're my fucking husband.”

Ghost's expression softened even more as you placed your hand on his cheek, the rough fabric of his mask against your palm. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh before opening them again, looking into your eyes.

He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you worry about me. And I know it's because you love me. But I can't help worrying about you too.”

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke, the closeness between you both causing a mixture of emotions to swirl within you. On one hand, you were still angry and upset with him for his reckless behavior. But on the other hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.

Soap cleared his throat once again, interrupting the intimate moment between you and Ghost. “Alright, lovebirds. I get the feeling I'm the third wheel over here.”

“Tch. Fine. Alright alright. Can’t let my lovely brother ignore by us.”

Soap chuckled softly at your words, shaking his head in amusement. “Don't worry about me. I'm used to being the third wheel around here.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask at Soap's comment, but didn't say anything. He was too focused and concerned about you. Soap leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face. “So, you two lovebirds figure things out yet?”

“Um…I think so. I’m not angry anymore..”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the two of you, noticing the change in the atmosphere between you and Ghost. “Good, I'm glad you're not angry anymore.”

Ghost remained silent and let out a soft sigh, relieved that you weren't angry anymore. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you close. Soap spoke up again, his tone somewhat amused. “So, lovebirds, you gonna make out in front of me or what?”

Ghost's grip on your waist tightened slightly and he let out a scoff under his mask, clearly amused by Soap's words as well. “You wish, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and held his hands up playfully in mock surrender. “Hey, can you blame a guy for asking? It's not every day you see a cute couple like you two getting all romantic.”

You rolled your eyes at Soap's comment and swat him playfully, trying to hide the slight flush on your cheeks. “Jeez, come on, Simon. Let’s go home.”

Ghost nodded his head in agreement, seemingly grateful for an excuse to get out of the situation with Soap. “Yeah, let's get out of here.”

He kept his hand on your waist and guided you toward the door, giving a dismissive wave to Soap. “See you later, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and watched the two of you head out the door, a smirk on his face. “Later, lovebirds.”

As Ghost and you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face, providing a sense of relaxation. Ghost's hand remained on your waist, guiding you toward a black SUV parked nearby. He opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in, his voice still gruff but with a hint of tenderness. “Get in. I'll drive.”

“Tch, isn't it me who's driving? Alright, I don't want to scratch your car again.”

Ghost let out a soft chuckle, his tone slightly amused as he remembered the time you accidentally scratched his car. “Right, I remember that. You're lucky I didn't make you pay for the repairs.”

He closed the passenger door once you had settled in, then made his way to the driver's seat. As he was about to get in, he paused for a moment and looked at you. “Remember, no loud music this time. I don't need my eardrums blown out again.”

“Tch. Fine. Hm…ocean background music. Satisfied?”

Ghost nodded his head in acknowledgment as he started the car, the engine purring to life. “Sure, ocean background music is fine. As long as it's not too loud.”

He began to drive, maneuvering the car through the streets with practiced ease. The streetlights cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight tilt of his head. “You know, you're the only person I let touch this car.”

“Good. That’s my privilege I want.”

He continued to drive, his focus mostly on the road ahead. The tension from earlier in the day had faded, replaced by a comfortable silence between the two of you. Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his expression still mostly hidden under his mask but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. “Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. You've already scratched it once.”

“Hey, that’s was an accident. I was too panicked at reverse parking then boom. You scold me that time. And I feel like, oh ~ my lovely husband is not loving me anymore ~ I’m so sad.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask, knowing you were only teasing him, and played along with your little game. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a terrible driver and you should never be allowed behind the wheel of a car again.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And don't act so dramatic. I scolded you because you scratched my car, not because I don't love you anymore. Idiot.”

“Hmph! Now I’m idiot, not lovely wife anymore.”

Ghost let out a soft sigh and shook his head in mock irritation. “You know I was just messing with you. You're still my lovely wife, even if you're a terrible driver and an idiot sometimes.”

He glanced over at you and saw the teasing glint in your eyes, knowing that you were just having fun. “But seriously, don't scratch my car again. I'll make you walk everywhere if you do.”

“Suddenly I felt I had reason to file for divorce.”

Ghost feigned a look of shock, his eyes going wide under his mask. He was clearly playing along with your teasing, enjoying your playful banter. He reached over and poked you gently in the side, his touch playful. “You wouldn't dare. Don't even think about it. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Then let me drive, I want to scratch it.”

Ghost let out a scoff and shook his head, his tone still playful but slightly incredulous. “Absolutely not. You are not touching the wheel. I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere because of your crappy driving.”

He continued to drive, his eyes focused on the road, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “Nice try, though. I know how much you enjoy pushing my buttons.”

“Oops, you found me.” You chuckled playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his amusement clear in his voice. He paused for a moment and then continued in a more serious tone. “Oh, I know you well enough by now to know when you're trying to stir trouble. But seriously, no driving for you. Stick to being a passenger princess.”

“Alright alright. Please call me Princess Mactavish. Hm~if you huh, Knight Riley.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his tone somewhat amused. “Princess Mactavish and Knight Riley, huh? Sounds like a fairy tale.”

He reached over and gently patted your head, playing along with your little game. “And what requests does the princess have for her knight?”

“Hm~kiss me a lot and love me forever.” You blurted out happily.

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, the sound warm and affectionate. “Ah, the easiest request to fulfill.”

He took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment and reached over, gently taking your hand in his. He brought it up to his mask and planted a soft kiss on the top of your hand, his eyes meeting yours through the mask. “I promise to love you forever, Princess Mactavish.”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you at his words, your heart swelling with love and affection. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grateful for his promise. “And I promise to love you forever, too, Knight Riley."

Ghost felt a warm feeling spread through his chest at your words, his heart filling with a deep sense of comfort and contentment. He tightened his grip on your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze in return. “Good. Because I don't plan on letting you go anywhere.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And if any pesky princes try to steal you away, I may have to fight them off.”

“Oh wow~ such a great knight.”

Ghost chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders slightly, his tone playful. He turned his attention back to the road for a moment before continuing. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. Protecting my lovely wife from pesky princes is just another one of them. Besides, you're mine, and I'm not planning on sharing you with anyone.”

“Thanks, my lovely husband.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words and smiled gently under his mask. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze again, his touch gentle and affectionate. “You're welcome, my lovely wife. And I won't let anyone take you away from me.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgment, knowing that he was possessive but also feeling a shiver went down your spine. The tone in his voice was always a mix of affection and command. It was like he was making sure I knew exactly where you belong. And the last sentence was almost a warning. “Yeah, I know you don't.”

You could hear the finality in his voice, no room for argument. And you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and comfort from his possessive yet caring demeanor.

The drive continued in silence for a moment, the only noise being the hum of the engine and the occasional passing cars. Then, Ghost spoke again, his tone shifting slightly. “You know, there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it?” You curious about what he said.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression remaining mostly hidden under his mask. However, his eyes gave away a hint of anticipation. “We've been married for quite some time now. And... there's something we haven't done.”

“Hm? Like what?” You kinda nervous. Wonder he’s thinking the same thing like you.

Ghost took a deep breath before speaking, his tone carefully neutral, though you could sense a hint of anticipation in his words. He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I've been thinking about it for a while, and I feel like it's something we should talk about as a couple. Have you ever thought about... having children?”

“Huh?! Really?! You sure?! I thought you’re not interested in this kind of thing.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your shocked response, his mask not showing any other expression. “Yeah, I mean it. I've been thinking about it lately. And I know I may not have ever shown much interest in the idea, but lately, I've been feeling different.”

He paused for a moment, his tone growing serious. “I want to be honest with you. I used to think that having a family wasn't really in the cards for me, given my job and the dangerous lifestyle I lead. But now, I've been reconsidering.”

He took a deep breath and continued, his voice quieter this time. “I've realized that maybe I want something more than just endless missions and bloodshed. And the thought of having a family, of being a father...it's something new to me.”

He reached over and placed a hand on your knee, his touch gentle and careful. “What do you think, love?”

Suddenly you realized that he had this idea. You always thought he didn't want children. Both of you knew how dangerous each other's duties was, but lives took a big turn after you two fell in love and got married. At this moment you realized that you two would face new challenges. You took out phone from pocket to check some of your private data such as ovulation and menstrual period. “Do you busy tonight? We can try this week….no condom….”

Ghost's eyes widened under his mask at your words, his expression a mix of surprise and arousal. He hadn't expected you to bring up the idea so quickly. He nodded his head, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. “Yeah, tonight, I'm all yours.”

He couldn't help the slight huskiness in his voice, the thought of starting a family with you now more tantalizing than ever. “You've checked your cycle?”

“Yup. I am. I think this week will hit the jackpot.”

Ghost's eyes darkened with desire at your words, his mind racing with thoughts of starting a family with you. He took a deep breath to steady himself, his body already reacting to your words. He aid gruffly, his tone a mix of excitement and anticipation. “Alright then. Let's do it.”

His hand on your knee gripped you just a little harder, his touch possessive and needy. “And I promise to be very thorough tonight.”

The rest of the car ride was full of tension, both of you unable to hide your excitement about what was to come. It was as if the air around you was charged with electricity, building up the anticipation exponentially. As the car pulled into the driveway of your house, Ghost shut off the engine, the sudden silence in the cabin making the tension even more palpable. He turned to look at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Come on, love. Let's take this inside.”

Ghost got out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. He took your hand and helped you out, his grip firm and possessive. As you walked towards the house, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, the mere thought of the night to come making his heart race with excitement and anticipation. Once you were both inside, he closed the door behind you with a quiet click and immediately pushed you up against the wall, his body pressing against yours.

“Take off your mask, I’m not gonna fuck with you while looking at that skull mask tonight.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, his tone teasing. He pulled the mask off, revealing his sharp jawline and rugged handsome face. His eyes were dark with desire, and his lips curved into a small smirk. “Is that more to your taste, love?”

“Yup. No more Lieutenant Ghost, only Simon Riley and my lovely husband.”

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone a little more affectionate. He said, his fingers tracing gently along your cheek. “Only Simon for you, love. Your lovely husband, Simon.”

He leaned in closer, his body pressing even tighter against yours, his proximity making your heart race. “I plan to show you just how much I love you tonight.”

The heat between you was palpable as he continued to kiss your neck, his touch growing more urgent with each passing moment. His hands roamed your body, one resting on your hip and the other gently caressing the sensitive skin of your stomach. It was a teasing touch, one that both aroused you and drove you insane with anticipation. He leaned in closer and whispered huskily in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready, love?”

“Ha—yes. I’m ready.” You moan softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your readiness, his tone thick with desire. His hands gripping your hips as he began to guide you towards the bedroom. The air was electric with anticipation as he led you into the room, his eyes never leaving your body. Once you were inside, he closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world. The bedroom was lit by soft, flickering candlelight, creating a sensual atmosphere.

Ghost walked you over to the bed and gently pushed you down, guiding you to lie on your back. He stood over you, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He began to undress, his moves slow and deliberate, giving you a full view of his toned, muscular body. As he pulled off his shirt, baring his chest, he noticed your gaze lingering on him. A cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my fucking Simon, that’s definitely awesome.” You teased him.

Ghost chuckled at your reaction, his smirk growing even cockier. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and pinning you beneath him. His hands traced over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive at the same time.

Ghost's smirk grew wider as he continued to touch your body, his hands mapping out every curve and contour. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a low, sinful rumble. His lips grazed your neck, his teeth nipping gently at your sensitive skin before moving down to your collarbone. “Good. Because I plan on using every inch of it to pleasure you tonight.”

“You better do it. My lovely husband.”

Ghost let out a soft growl at your words, and his hand gripped your hip a bit tighter, the possessive gesture making your heart race. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his proximity making your body ache with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yup. I’m ready.” You pressed a kiss on his lips.

He claimed your mouth with a kiss, his tongue delving inside, tasting and exploring every inch of you. It was a kiss that was both demanding and possessive, a reminder of just who you belonged to. Ghost's hands roamed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive as he explored, his fingers tracing a path of fire across your skin. He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of biting kisses along your sensitive skin.

He continued to kiss and bite your neck, hands gripping your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. He moved down to your shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along the way. His body was pressed against yours, the feel of his muscular chest and stomach against your skin making your body ache with desire. He lifted his head again, his eyes dark and burning with lust.

“I love you, Simon.” You moan softly and said.

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone becoming more affectionate. He leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, tender kiss, his mouth worshipping yours. His hands caressed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. “I love you too, love. My lovely wife.”

The times flew away and the sun was setting on the sky. Ghost stirred from sleep, his eyes heavy as he slowly awoke. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft light of the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. He shifted his weight on the bed, his body still feeling the aftereffects of a long, passionate night with you. He turned his head to look at you, a contented smile on his lips at the sight of you still asleep beside him.

“Mm…mhm. Morning….” You mumbling softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your groggy response, his smile growing. He stroked your hair again, his hand gentle as he caressed your scalp. “Good morning, love. How'd you sleep?”

“Good, it’s so fucking wonderful.” You yawned and leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips.

Ghost smiled again at your response, his heart warming at the sight of you still half-asleep and rumpled from the night before. He reached out and ran a hand down your bare back, his touch both possessive and gentle. “Did I wear you out last night?”

“A little. But it’s a great moment.” You nuzzled him.

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his touch growing firmer as he continued to run his hand down your back. His voice dropping an octave lower. “You were pretty spectacular yourself last night, love.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin. “Ready for a shower, my lovely wife?”

“Do you mind carrying me? My legs are sore. Yesterday night ride you, my muscles are numb.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his expression both amused and affectionate. “Of course I don’t mind.”

He slid out of bed and picked you up in one easy motion, supporting you in his arms as he carried you towards the bathroom. He teased lightly, his arms holding you securely. “You really wore yourself out last night, oh my lovely wife.”

“You’re a soldier, I’m a medic. Don’t expect a medic’s stamina can win over you. Oh! So tell me, my lovely husband. Our first baby you wish it’s a boy or girl?” You pecking his cheek and asking him.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “I don’t really care. I know this might sound cheesy, but all I really want is a healthy baby – a chance to start a family with you.”

He looked at you, his eyes warm and affectionate. “But if you’re asking my preference, then I guess I wouldn’t mind a little girl with your eyes and your stubbornness.”

“Holy shit. A skull mask lieutenant with a baby girl. Little princess’s daddy huh.”

Ghost chuckled at your words, the image you painted obviously amusing to him. He stepped closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips again. He said with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, the Lieutenant, the big bad boogeyman of the 141, reduced to being a daddy of a cute little princess.”

You chuckled then pressed his lips with a kiss. Ghost responded to your kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepened it. His mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was both possessive and demanding, his tongue exploring and tasting you with a hunger that betrayed his need for you. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he angled your head for better access, his other hand pressing firmly against the small of your back, holding your body flush against his.

The next few month, you were as busy as usual at the Task 141 base. At lunchtime, you took the tray and went to pick out the food. Suddenly felt unwell had the urge to vomit. You immediately threw away the tray, covered mouth and ran into the toilet to vomit.

Ghost was in the commissary when he noticed your sudden change in demeanor. He saw the expression on your face, the way you suddenly went pale, and knew something was wrong. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and moving in your direction, following as you rushed towards the bathroom. He was there waiting by the time you reached the toilet, concern written all over his face. “Love. Are you alright?”

“Fucking hell…today is already third time.” You washed your face and wiped it with handkerchiefs.

Then realization dawned on him. He remembered the signs, the sudden nausea, your paler than usual complexion. He knelt down beside you, his hand moving to gently brush the hair back from your face. He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is it…is it possible that you’re…?”

“Eh? You mean that thing?” You tilted your head pointed your stomach.

Ghost nodded silently, his gaze locked on your face. The thought had crossed his mind before, but he had pushed it aside, not wanting to get his hopes up. But now, seeing you in this condition, it seemed like more than just a possibility. He reached out and took one of your hands in his, his touch gentle and possessive. “Have you... Have you taken a test?”

“Not yet…I'll go to the infirmary to get tested. You go to training first, I'll let you know if there's any news.”

Ghost was reluctant to let you go, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. He had a protective streak in him a mile wide, and the idea of you being unwell and him not being there for you made him uneasy. But he knew you were strong, capable, the badass medic he knew and loved. He nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But you promise to let me know as soon as you know something, alright? Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Roger, Lieutenant Ghost.” You salute playfully.

You went back to the infirmary and dug out a few pregnancy test sticks that you had prepared earlier. You held them tightly and began to doubt yourself. Could it really work this time? You ran into the toilet and started testing, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test sticks.

Your hands trembled slightly as you clutched the test sticks, your heart thudding in your chest. This was it. The moment you had been hoping for, praying for, for so long. The minutes ticked by, each agonizingly slow second feeling like an eternity. Finally, you couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear the anticipation any longer. With trembling fingers, you picked up the first test stick and waited for the result.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched the test stick, the wait excruciating. And then, almost as if in slow motion, the results started to appear. Positive. Your eyes widened, your heart nearly stopped. A wave of emotions washed over you, relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. Tears welled up in your eyes as you grabbed the second test stick with trembling hands.

And again, positive. The same result. No mistaking it, no denying it. You were pregnant. You clutched the test sticks to your chest, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment. You were filled with a fierce sense of protectiveness, a fierce love for the tiny life growing inside you. You had to find Ghost. You had to tell him. “Fucking hell…finally. God damn it. Took us so long. Finally Ghost can be a father…”

You could barely control your emotions as you raced through the base, your thoughts racing just as fast as your legs. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief, your heart swelling with joy. You had waited for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, it felt surreal. You finally reached the training ground, scanning the area for Ghost. And then you spotted him, his broad shoulders and strong presence immediately catching your eye.

You also saw Price standing next to him talking about something. You walked forward holding the pregnancy test stick hidden behind you , and you cleared your throat to attract their attention.

Ghost's head whipped around as soon as he heard the sound of your cough, his face immediately lighting up when he saw you approaching. But the way you were holding your hand behind your back, the secretive expression on your face, made him curious. And he could tell something was up. He turned towards you, his expression a mix of curiosity and something that looked an awful lot like hope. “What’s that you’ve got there, love?”

Price turned, too, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the same secretiveness that Ghost did. A faint smirk played on his lips, as if he was already guessing what was going on. “What are you hiding, medic?”

“Something happened. I’m pregnant. We really did succeed this time, Ghost.” You blurted out.

Ghost’s expression immediately softened, a look of almost disbelieving joy spreading across his face. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed speechless. He took a step towards you, his arms reaching out to pull you into a tight embrace. “You’re pregnant? Really? My lovely wife pregnant?”

Price, standing nearby, let out a loud whoop, a huge grin on his face. He teased, poking Ghost in the shoulder. “Finally, eh, Ghost?”

Ghost pulled back slightly, his gaze fixated on the test sticks you held out to him. His fingers trembled as he gently took them from your hand, his expression filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. He turned them over in his hands, his eyes scanning the results, as if he was afraid he was dreaming.

Price stepped closer, peering over Ghost’s shoulder at the test sticks. His voice filled with both doubt but more of excitement. “Damn, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?"

“Fucking hell. We really succeeded this time! Ghost!”

Ghost set the test sticks down and pulled you into his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in a tight, overjoyed embrace. He held you against him, his body trembling with emotion. He rasped, his voice filled with wonder and awe. “We did it! We did it, love. You're carrying our child."

Price chuckled, watching the two of you with a grin on his face. “Looks like the 141 is getting a new recruit.”

“Seriously? Captain, a baby you want to recruit too?!”

Price chuckled heartily, his eyes shining with amusement at your words. He paused, then gave a wink. His voice playful. “Imagine the possibilities. Tiny recruits, following orders in their little uniform...”

“Sounds like chaos. But…I guess 141 will have headaches, don’t mind my pregnancy symptoms.”

Ghost chuckled, his arms still around you, holding you close. “Don't worry, love. I'll handle any headaches, and I'll take care of you and the little one.”

Price joined in again, his tone still teasing. He said, nodding sagely. “Us seasoned 141 members can handle anything. Including pregnant medics.”

“Hahahaha. Thanks. So, my lovely husband Ghost. New adventures are coming soon.”

Ghost's expression softened even more, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity. He held you tight, his arms encircling you protectively as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Indeed. New adventures, new challenges. But we'll face them together. You and me, and our little one.”

Price, standing nearby, couldn’t help but add his own two cents. “Hahahah. Better start getting used to less sleep, Ghost.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at Price's words, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He said sarcastically. “Thanks for the reminder, Captain. As if I wasn't already preparing for a lifetime of sleepless nights.”

Price chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. He said, his tone mock-serious. “Just warning you, son. Babies are noisy. And they never sleep when you do.”

“Hahaha. Alright alright, guys. Don’t say anything negative that will make me regret having a baby.” Ghost and Price exchanged glances after your words, their expressions immediately sobering.

Ghost shook his head vehemently. He said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “No regrets. Not a single one. This is a blessing, love. Our little miracle.”

Price nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Ghost is right. This is a wonderful thing you're doing. Bringing life into the world...it's the most important job there is.”

“Hahaha. Guess my responsibility increased when I had a baby. Oh! Soap definitely will happy! His nephew or niece is coming.”

Soap appeared as if on cue, sauntering into the conversation with a cocky grin on his face. He drawled, his Scottish accent thick and unapologetic. “Did I hear my name?”

Price chuckled, turning to Soap. He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Your ears are still sharp, son. Speaking of which, you have some news to hear.”

“Hwah! Jeez! Oh, since my lovely brother is here. Ghost and I have something to tell you.”

Price couldn't help but chuckle at Soap's eagerness. Soap's ears perked up at Ghost's words, his expression going from cocky to curious. He asked, his voice tinged with excitement. “Oh yeah? What’s this important news you’re sharing with me, Ghost?”

Ghost took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Soap's. His voice filled with a mix of awe and wonder. “We’re having a baby.”

Soap's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. He stood there speechless for a moment, as if trying to process the news. And then, his face broke out into a huge grin, his eyes sparkling with joy and excitement. He exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness. “Are you serious? That’s amazing news!”

“Yup. We have a baby, you will be uncle soon.” You pointed at your stomach and laughed.

Soap's grin widened even more, his face lighting up with happiness. He exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. “I'm going to be an uncle? Bloody hell, that's brilliant!”

He turned to Ghost and clasped him on the shoulder, his grip tight. He said, his tone filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Congratulations, mate! You’re gonna be a dad!”

Ghost nodded, his expression softened by a genuine smile. His voice filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Soap. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.”

Price, standing nearby, chuckled at the reaction from Soap, his eyes filled with amusement. He said, his tone lighthearted. “Looks like this 141 family is expanding. I wonder how the little one will handle all the excitement around here.”

Nine months later, your voice of pain and crying could be heard in the delivery room because the baby was being born. Ghost paced back and forth outside the delivery room, his heart pounding with anticipation and a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He could hear your voice, filled with pain and exertion, and he wanted nothing more than to be by your side, to hold your hand and offer whatever comfort he could.

Soap stood nearby, his expression a mix of anxiety and excitement. He clasped Ghost on the shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance. “It’ll be fine, mate. Just a few more hours, and you’ll be holding your little one in your arms.”

Ghost nodded, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself. The wait was excruciating, and he couldn't help but worry about you and the baby. He knew childbirth was difficult, knew it was painful, and he wanted to do anything he could to ease your suffering.

Price standing nearby, couldn't help but chime in as well, his tone filled with his usual sarcasm. He said, a smirk on his face. “Hang in there, Ghost. You're in for a world of chaos now.”

Finally, your voice had quieted down a lot, and a baby girl's cry came from the delivery room. You collapsed on the hospital bed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms. You were very tired and at a loss as to how to comfort her. You felt so helpless that couldn't help crying with her. “Nonono…Freya…what should I do..?”

Ghost rushed into the room, his heart pounding with worry and excitement. He saw you, exhausted and overwhelmed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms, tears streaming down your face.

He crossed the room in a heartbeat, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out a trembling hand, gently stroking your hair, trying to soothe you. He whispered, his voice soft and comforting. “Shhh...it’s okay. Don’t cry, love. You’re doing great.”

“I don’t know how to do? Freya kept crying…”

Ghost's expression softened, his heart swelling with love and concern for you. He gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her against his chest. He said, his voice soft and soothing. “It's alright. Babies cry. It's the only way they can communicate.”

He slowly rocked the baby back and forth, gently shushing her, his touch tender and caring. He repeated, rocking her gently. “Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here…”

The baby gradually calmed, her crying diminishing to soft hiccups and gurgles. Ghost smiled, his expression filled with a mixture of wonder and amazement. “See? It just takes a bit of patience and some gentle shushing.”

Price and Soap stood nearby, their own expressions filled with a mix of amusement and affection. Soap teased, a cheeky grin on his face. “Who knew the mighty Ghost would be a natural at this dad thing.”

You’re still crying after you feel the pain and loss. After the baby girl stopped crying, you wiped away your tears and catch the breath again. Ghost’s attention shifted back to you, his expression filled with concern and love. He could see the tears streaming down your face, the exhaustion and pain you were experiencing.

He carefully handed the baby to Soap, who held her with a look of wonder on his face, and turned back to you. He sat back down beside you, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You did great, love. You brought a beautiful little girl into this world. You were amazing.”

You couldn't bear it anymore, you threw yourself into his arms and cried. The pain of pregnancy and the helplessness of the baby's cry almost made you despair. Ghost wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his touch gentle and comforting.

He could feel your body trembling, the tears soaking his shirt, and his heart ached with sympathy and understanding. He held you tight, rocking you slowly from side to side, his voice soft in your ear. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You did great, love. You did great.”

“Thanks…Simon. I’m scared when Freya crying.”

Ghost's expression softened, understanding your fear and helplessness. He held you tighter, his grip strong and reassuring. His voice tender. “It’s alright to be scared, love. Being a parent is frightening. But you don’t have to be scared alone. I’m here for you, and so is Soap and Price. We’re family. We’ll figure this parenting thing out together.”

“I know…but I’m still panicked when she cried.”

Ghost caressed your cheek gently, his touch gentle and soothing. He could see the worry and exhaustion in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your mind. “Don’t worry. You’re doing great. You brought a beautiful baby girl into the world. And we’ll figure everything out together.”

He pulled you closer, holding you tight against him, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting blanket. “We’re in this together, love. Me and you.”

Price and Soap watched the exchange between you and Ghost with knowing grins. They could see the love and affection between you, and they were both happy to see their comrades finding such contentment and happiness. Price, in his gruff way, chimed in with a sly comment. “Alright, you two lovebirds. Get a room.”

“Oh come on! I’m just finished, give me a break.”

Price chuckled, his expression filled with devilish amusement. He teased. “Ah, come on. You can't blame me for being envious. Ghost gets to be a dad now, and I'm still stuck as the old, grumpy Captain.”

Soap chuckled at Price's comment, unable to resist joining in the banter. Soap chimed in, his tono mock serious. “Don't worry, Captain. You can be the fun uncle. Spoil the kid rotten and give them sweets before bedtime.”

“My lovely brother, hand over my daughter.”

Soap grinned, his expression filled with mock indignation. He protested, his tone light and playful. “Ah, little sister, I thought I could hold my niece for a bit longer?”

Price chuckled, shaking his head at Soap's antics. He said, patting Soap on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, give the girl her daughter back.”

Soap reluctantly handed the baby back to you, his expression filled with a mixture of reluctance and affection. You stroked her cheek and smiled. “Hey, Freya. Mommy’s here…”

Your baby girl looked up at you with wide eyes, her expression curious and innocent. She gurgled softly, her little hands reaching out towards you. Ghost watched the scene with a heart filled with love and affection. Seeing you holding your baby girl, the bond between mother and child so strong and immediate, made his heart swell with pride and joy.

He stood by your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, watching as you cooed to your baby girl, your voice filled with love and tenderness. Soap and Price stood nearby, their expressions softened by the scene unfolding in front of them. Soap had a warm smile on his face, and even Price had a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Soap couldn't help but chime in, his tone filled with affectionate teasing. “Look at you, little sis. Already a natural at this mom thing.”

Six years later, late one night, at Ghost's home. Ghost hasn't come back from the base yet, Freya and you are the only ones left at home. You are sleeping in the upstairs bedroom, and Freya suddenly woke up in the downstairs bedroom. Ghost quietly entered the house, closing the front door behind him with a soft click. He was just returning from the base, still clad in his tactical gear and balaclava.

As he walked towards the living room, he heard the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up and saw his little girl, Freya, standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide with surprise as she saw him in his balaclava for the first time.

Ghost froze, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the fear and confusion etched on his little girl's face. He hadn't expected her to wake up at this late hour. He quickly realized that he must have looked intimidating to her, with his face covered and his body in tactical gear. He took a slow step towards her, his voice soft and gentle. “Hey, sweetie. It's just me, daddy.”

But Freya backed away, her eyes still wide with fear, her little body trembling. She had never seen her dad looking like this before, and the sight of him was clearly unsettling her. Ghost felt a pang of worry and concern in his chest. He knew he had to find a way to reassure her, to show her that he was still her dad, despite his appearance. He crouched down, making himself smaller and less intimidating.

You are sleeping soundly when suddenly heard a loud cry and scream. It was Freya. You opened the drawer, took out a gun and loaded it, then ran to downstairs. As soon as you got downstairs, Freya ran to hide behind you, hugged your legs and cried. You pointed your gun forward without hesitation. “You son of bitch—eh?! Simon?!”

Ghost held up his hands in surprise, his balaclava still covering his face. He looked at the gun in your hand, then at Freya hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. He said, his voice low and urgent. “Love, put the gun down. It's just me. I just came back from the base.”

“Shit. Oh, sorry. I thought someone kidnapped Freya. Jeez, I’m glad that I didn’t pulled the trigger or else your head would be hurt. I’ll put down the gun.”

Ghost watched as you slowly lowered the gun, your hand trembling slightly. He could see the realization and relief washing over your face, as you finally recognized him. He took another step closer, his expression gentle and reassuring. “It's alright. There was no need to shoot me.”

He looked down at Freya, who was still hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You coaxed your daughter gently. “Freya, he’s not gonna hurt you. Daddy is here, he’s just covering his face because his work.”

Freya peaked her head out from behind you, her eyes locked on Ghost's masked face. She looked scared and uncertain, her little body still trembling.

Ghost crouched down to her level, trying to make himself smaller and less intimidating. He slowly reached up and pulled the balaclava off his face, revealing his familiar features. “See? It's just me, sweetie. It's just daddy.”

Freya's eyes widened as she saw her dad's face, her confusion giving way to recognition. The fear slowly faded from her expression, replaced by relief and comfort. She hesitated for a moment, still clinging to your leg, before slowly letting go and taking a tentative step towards Ghost.

Ghost held out his hand to her, his expression warm and encouraging. “Come here, sweetie.”

Freya hesitantly stepped forward, her little hand reaching out towards Ghost's hand. He took her hand in his, his grip gentle and reassuring. He guided her towards him, sitting down on the floor as he pulled her into his lap. “Daddy's here. There's no need to be scared.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest. Freya buried her face in his chest, her little body trembling with lingering fear and surprise. Ghost held her close, rubbing her back gently, trying to soothe her. He could feel her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, the tension in her body easing as she felt the safety and warmth of his embrace.

“Well, first experience Freya with your mask on.” You couldn’t help it and teasing him playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his expression filled with fondness. He said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, I suppose it was a bit of a shocker for her.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him tightly, her face buried in his chest. He joked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It seems like maybe I should start wearing my mask around the house more often.”

“Jeez. Fucking nononono. No, I can’t kiss your sexy lips, and Freya can’t clinging you.” You pinched his cheek, your voice tone like warning.

Ghost chuckled again, amused by your reaction. He said, his voice teasing. “Well, I wouldn't want to sacrifice the kissing or the cuddling.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “And I suppose this little one wouldn't appreciate it if daddy was always covered up either. She needs to see my handsome face sometimes.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, your own expression softening at the sight of Ghost holding his daughter so gently in his arms. “Yeah, I don't think she'd like it very much if she couldn't see her daddy's face all the time either.”

Ghost looked up at you, his expression warm and affectionate. He asked, his voice low and playful. “And you, love? Would you miss my handsome face if I kept the balaclava on more often?”

“Hahaha. I’m not gonna asked you to take it off. I’m just gonna kick your ass and ripped the balaclava out. Oh! Freya, you okay now?”

Freya had finally stopped crying, her little sobs turning into hiccups as she slowly calmed down. She lifted her head from her dad's chest, her tears still staining her cheeks. She looked up at you, her expression a mix of fear and confusion, before looking back at Ghost. She said in a small voice. “Daddy?”

Ghost smiled gently at her, his expression softening. He replied, his voice gentle and warm. “Yes, sweetie?”

Freya's little hand reached up to touch his face, her expression filled with awe and curiosity. She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You're not a bad guy?”

Ghost's expression turned solemn, his heart filling with sadness at her words. He knew she had been scared of him when she saw him in his balaclava, and he understood why. He shook his head softly, his voice tender. “No, sweetie. I'm not a bad guy. I'm your daddy.”

“Freya, it’s your daddy, truly.” You continue coaxing her, you pressed a kiss on Freya’s forehead then Simon’s cheek.

Freya looked up at you, her little hand still touching Ghost's cheek. She seemed to be processing what you had said, trying to make sense of the situation.

Ghost looked at her, his expression filled with tenderness and love. He reached up to gently grab her little hand, holding it in his much larger one. He placed a gentle kiss on her small fingers. “It's true, sweetie. I am your daddy, and I would never hurt you.”

Freya looked at him, her expression still etched with a hint of fear and confusion. But slowly, she seemed to be softening, her little body relaxing in his arms.

She looked down at their hands, her small fingers clutching his tightly. She asked, her voice a small whisper. “Promise?”

Ghost's expression turned gentle and reassuring. He took her little chin in his hand, tilting her face up towards his. He said, his voice filled with conviction. “I promise, sweetie. I will always protect you and keep you safe. I will never, ever hurt you.”

“Ahem. Sorry for interrupting this moment. By the way, Little Freya Riley. I thought you’re sleeping? Why did you suddenly wake up?”

Ghost looked at his daughter, his expression filled with curiosity. Freya looked sheepish, her little face blushing as she looked down at her feet. She fidgeted with the hem of her pajama top, her voice small and hesitant. She mumbled, her words barely audible. “I had a bad dream.”

“Hm. Understood. Well…daddy is back today. Do you want to sleep together with us?”

Freya looked up at you, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. She nodded eagerly, her little body still clinging to Ghost's. She replied, her voice filled with anticipation. “Yes, I want.”

Ghost chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at his little girl. He stood up, holding her close to his chest. He said, his tone affectionate. “Alright, sweetie. Let's go get you settled in bed.”

“Uh huh. Love. You shower first, take off your gear. This is home, not the war zone.” You mentioned.

Ghost chuckled at your words, his expression amused. “Aye, love. I'll go take a shower, and then I'll join you both in bed.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him. He could feel her little body trembling slightly, the remnants of fear from earlier still lingering. “You gonna be okay with mom for a bit, sweetie?”

“Of course she’s okay with me. She’s my daughter.”

Ghost chuckled at your response, his expression filled with affection. He said, his voice soft and warm. “I know, love. I just wanted to make sure she was alright.”

He looked down at Freya, who was looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes. He kissed the top of her head, his expression filled with love and tenderness. he asked, his voice gentle. “Be a good girl for mommy, okay?”

Freya nodded, her expression serious and determined. She replied, her voice firm. “I will, daddy.”

Ghost smiled at her, his expression filled with pride. He knew his little girl was strong and brave, just like her mother. “That's my girl. Alright, love. I'll be back soon.”

You picked up Freya, kissed her on the forehead. Then you approached Simon, you covered Freya’s eyes to shield her sight. You leaned closer to him and pressed a deep kiss lingering for a moment. After, you took her upstairs to your bedroom.

Ghost watched as you picked up their daughter, his expression amused and touched by your gesture. He chuckled softly as you covered her eyes before you leaned in and kissed him. He felt a warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sensation of your lips against his, the taste of you still as sweet as he remembered.

He watched as you took Freya upstairs, his expression softening as he saw his little girl clinging to you. He knew she was in good hands, and he would be with you shortly. Ghost stood there for a moment, his heart full and his thoughts swirling with affection for you and his daughter. He could hear your voices coming from upstairs, your soothing tone as you spoke to Freya, and her little giggles in response.

He took a deep breath, letting the tension and adrenaline from his mission release from his body. He knew he could finally relax, knowing that he was home with his family. He finally turned and walked towards the bathroom, ready to take a long and much-needed shower.

“Since daddy is showering, my little Freya come give mommy a good night kiss kiss?” Your cheeks nuzzling her cheeks as you want your daughter little kiss.

Freya's eyes lit up at your request, her little face breaking into a wide smile. She exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. “Kiss kiss!”

She wriggled out of your arms, her little legs wobbling slightly as she stood on her own. She took a few steps towards you, her expression filled with anticipation. She leaned forward, her little hands bracing on your shoulders for support, and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

You pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then opened the bedroom door and settled Freya on the bed. You’re laying down beside her and covered you two with the blanket. You gently patted her to coax her sleeping.

Freya snuggled up against you, her little body tucked firmly under the covers. She closed her eyes, her expression finally relaxed and content. She wrapped her little arms around your waist, her grip loose and comfortable. She nuzzled her face against your chest, her breathing soft and steady.

As you continued to gently pat her back, you could feel her body growing heavier with each passing moment, a sure sign that she was falling into a peaceful slumber. You continued to hum the lullaby, the soft sound filling the room and creating a peaceful atmosphere. You could feel your own eyelids growing heavy, your body relaxing as you watched over your sleeping daughter.

Her little face was so peaceful and content, her expression soft and free of worry. Her little chest rose and fell with each breath, her soft, golden locks framing her delicate features. You couldn't help but smile, feeling so much love and protectiveness for this little girl who was now almost sound asleep in your arms. “Good night, my little girl.” You kiss her cheeks.

You laid there for a moment, just holding her, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber. Every now and then, a tiny sigh would escape her lips, and her little limbs would twitch slightly, but otherwise she remained completely still. You could hear the faint sound of water running in the bathroom, signifying that Ghost was still in the shower.

You gently poked Freya's cheek. She was completely asleep. You quietly left the bed and went to the bathroom. You opened the door and saw your naked husband drying himself after taking a shower. You take off your clothes completely naked. You wrapped your arms around him. Slowly your left hand slipped down to his down part jerking off his hot dick and whispered. “Do you want it before bed?”

Ghost's eyes widen in surprise as you suddenly appeared behind him, completely naked. His body shivered as your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He felt your hand slowly traveling down his body, and he couldn't help but let out a small gasp as you begin to touch him, your touch soft and teasing. He looked back at you, his expression a mix of surprise and excitement. “Oh, love. You're insatiable.”

Ghost turned around, his expression intense as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed against yours. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it only served to heighten his desire. “We have a little one asleep in the next room.”

“You were out on a mission with 141 for two weeks, and we didn't do it during that time. I had my needs. Don't you want to do it now?”

Ghost couldn't deny the truth in your words. It had been two long weeks since he had been away on a mission with Task Force 141. The absence of any intimate physical affection had left him feeling desperate and needy. He looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness. “Of course I want it. I craved your touch every moment I was away.”

He pulled you even closer, his body pressed tightly against yours. He could feel the heat of your skin against his, and the way your breath hitched as he touched you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered again. “But we have to be quiet, love. We don't want to disturb little Freya in the next room.”

“Then shut my mouth, Lieutenant Ghost.” You kissed his bare skin and touched it to tease him.

Ghost's eyes darkened at your request, a thrill of excitement running down his spine as he looked down at you. He didn't need to be told twice. He cupped your face in his hand, tilting your head back as his lips descended upon yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His other hand pressed itself against your back, pulling you flush against his body as he let his tongue invade your mouth.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with eagerness and desire. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the way your breath hitched with every touch he gave you, and it drove him wild. He pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place, his body pressed intimately against yours. And his lips never leave yours as he continues to kiss you, his lips moving forcefully and eagerly against yours, his need for you overwhelming.

He pressed his body against yours, his hardness pressing against your stomach. He groaned into your mouth, the sound filled with need and desire. His hands roam over your body, touching you anywhere and everywhere he could reach, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your body. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and biting at your skin as he whispers huskily in your ear. “I missed you so much, love.”

“Oh—fuck—I missed you more—“

Ghost's lips move along the line of your neck, his tongue tracing a path to your collarbone, where he nips at the sensitive skin with his teeth. He whispers hoarsely, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. “I don't think that's possible, love. I was counting the hours until I could be with you again.”

You feel he’s sucks hard on a patch of skin at the base of your neck, his intent on marking you as his own. “Fuck—ah—you—still want to compete—with me—”

Ghost chuckles against your skin, his lips moving to another spot, where he repeats the same action, leaving another mark on your body. “Always, love. I always want to compete with you, and I always want to win.”

He starts to move down your body, his lips leaving a trail of biting kisses along your collarbone, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts. “Damn—ah—you—“

Ghost chuckles again at your curse, the sound muffled against your skin as he continues his exploration of your body. He teases, his mouth moving lower still, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts. “Language, love.”

His hands grip your sides, holding you in place as he continues to kiss and nibble at your flesh, his touch growing more urgent and possessive. Ghost's hands move down to your thighs, his fingers spreading them apart, as his kisses move lower. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most. His breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tension coiled in his body like a tightly wound spring. He whispers, his voice low and rough. “I've been thinking about this since I left. I can't wait to taste you, love.”

Ghost grins, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh. His tongue flicking out to taste your skin. He can feel the way you shiver, how your body responds to his touch, and it only encourages him to tease you further. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping you tightly as he moves closer to your core. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

“Fuck—ah—Fuck me now, I can't wait—“

Ghost's eyes darken with desire at your plea, his body responding to your neediness. He looks up at you, his expression hungry, before he rises to his feet. He grabs your hips, turning you around to face the wall. He pushes your body against the wall, pinning you in place as he presses himself tightly against your back. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, and his mouth moves to your ear. “Are you ready for me, oh my lovely wife?”

“Yes—ah—“ You moan softly.

Ghost's hands move down your body, his fingers trailing over your skin, as he positions himself behind you. He leans over your body, his chest and stomach pressed firmly against your back. He presses his hardness against your core, his body quivering with anticipation, as he grips your hips tightly. Ghost's breath catches in his throat at your words, his body responding to your eagerness. He lines himself up with your entrance, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your anticipation growing even more intense. You take a deep breath, feeling his hands on your hips, as he starts to push into you slowly and gently. You breathe out, unable to stop the words from escaping your lips. “Ah—Ghost—“

Ghost shudders at the sound of his name on your lips, his body trembling with desire. His mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder blade. He begins to move, his hips rocking gently against yours as he pushes further into you. He whispers, his voice ragged and rough. “You feel so good, love.”

Ghost's body presses against your back, his movements growing more urgent and desperate. His words almost lost in the sound of your combined gasps and moans. He pushes into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to control himself. His movements become rougher, more demanding, as if he's trying to make up for the time he was gone.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling onto him for support. He leans in, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yes—yes!—“ You gasp out, your body trembling with pleasure. You manage to say, barely coherent as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You plead, your words half-gasps and half-whimpers.

“I won't stop—not until you come apart for me—“ He whispers and his hot breath on your bare skins.

You gasp, your words a desperate plea. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive and buzzing with pleasure. You manage to say. “Don't hold back—I want all of you, Ghost.”

“I—I can't—“ He gasps again, his body on the edge.

“You make me-I-“ His words are lost as he finally comes undone, his body shuddering as Waves of pleasure washes over him. He holds onto you tightly, his breath ragged and uneven as he tries to catch his breath. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles quivering with exertion.

He breathes, his voice soft and tender. “Ha—Damn it—I love you, love. So fucking love you.”

“Ha—I love you too—“ You feel Ghost collapses against you, his body spent and boneless, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against him, as he tries to catch his breath.

He whispers, his voice filled with affection and admiration. “You're incredible, love. I don't know how I survived two weeks without you.”

“Hahaha. Let's clean it up. Today Freya sleeps with us, I don't want she wake up and not find us.”

Ghost chuckles, his breath still a little ragged. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment, before he pulls away reluctantly. “Fair enough. Let's go take a quick shower, then we can check on Freya.”

As you and Ghost make your way to the shower, you can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment and peace settling over you. The water cascading over your bodies is warm and soothing. You wash each other off, your touch tender and gentle. Ghost's hands roam over your body, his touch possessive and caring. He washes your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers, as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

You return the favor, your own hands gliding over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and the scars that mar his body. You wash away the stress and tension that had been building up for the past two weeks, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and intimacy. Ghost pulls you close, his body pressed against yours, as he whispers words of love and reassurance into your ear.

By the time you finish washing up, the steam in the bathroom is thick and hazy. You and Ghost step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in towels, as you make your way to the bedroom.

As you enter the room, you can see that Freya is still asleep, her small body curled up under the covers. “Huff. Lucky our noises didn’t wake her up.”

Ghost smiles, his gaze shifting to the sleeping child. He crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, his knees touching the mattress. “Yeah, she's a heavy sleeper. You go get dressed, love. I'll keep an eye on her.”

“Alright. You can sleep first. You haven't slept with her for two weeks. Both of you must be miss each other.”

Ghost's expression softens at your words. He looks down at the sleeping child beside him, a mixture of affection and guilt crossing his face. He admits, his voice low. “I missed her so much.”

He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead, his touch tender and gentle. he adds, looking up at you with a soft smile. “But I missed you too. More than I thought I would.”

“Hehehe. Get your sexy body lying down and stay with her. I'll get dressed and come join with you two.”

Ghost nods, giving you a small smile. He crawls into the bed, pulling the covers over him as he settles in beside Freya. She shifts a little in her sleep, her small body seeking the warmth and comfort of her father. Ghost wraps his arm around her, his hand resting gently on her back as he watches her sleep.

You head into the bathroom, quickly drying off and getting dressed. When you return to the bedroom, you find Ghost and Freya asleep. Ghost is on his back, his arm still draped over Freya, who is snuggled up against his side. They look peaceful and content, their faces relaxed in sleep. “Hehehe. This father and daughter are so cute.”

Ghost's head is turned towards Freya, his face softened in sleep. You can hear the steady sound of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as he keeps his arm wrapped protectively around her. Freya is cuddled up against him, her small body pressed against his side.

You walk over and stand beside the bed, a soft smile on your face as you watch the sleeping pair. “Guess tonight my little girl sleeps in the middle huh. What a cutie pie.”

You climb into bed, slipping in carefully on the other side of Ghost, trying not to disturb the sleeping pair. Ghost stirs a little at your movement, but he doesn't wake up. Instead, he shifts a little, pulling you closer to him, his arm draping over your body as he settles back into his sleep. Freya is sandwiched between you and Ghost, her small body nestled in the middle, as she continues to sleep peacefully.

You smile as you feel the weight of Ghost's arm around you, his touch a familiar and comforting presence even in sleep. As you lie there, watching the sleeping pair, you realize that this moment of peace and contentment is exactly what you need. The stress and tension of the past few weeks fade away, replaced by a sense of safety and contentment. You close your eyes, feeling the warm presence of Ghost behind you, and the sweet breath of Freya against your chest.

“Good night. My love, my little Freya.”

The End 🖤♥️

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residentrookie · 10 hours ago

Text

NFU

a messy exes/right person, wrong time jegulus microfic inspired by the song NFU by del water gap for my bb @static-radio-ao3 as my thank u for the introduction :))

“Hello?”

“Regulus,” a hoarse voice rasps on the other end of the phone, drawing out the syllables of his name. Rough and low and… drunk. Extremely fucking drunk, by the sound of it.

Regulus stiffens. “James. Are you-- you’re drunk calling me. Again.”

“Very astute. You’re always so astute, Reg.”

He checks the clock on his nightstand with bleary eyes. 3:30 AM. God. Not this again.

“I thought we talked about this,” he sighs, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“We don’t talk much these days,” James points out rationally. “I think I would have remembered.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. Not fucking likely.

“Since you were in a similar state the last time we had this conversation, I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Just so we’re clear that doesn’t make it okay, James. This is— you have to stop doing this.”

By ‘this’ Regulus means getting wasted and calling him when James is too far gone to talk himself out of the idea. And, if Regulus were smart, he would stop picking up when James’ name flashes across his screen.

“Like I said. Astute.”

Drunk James is his worst nightmare, truly. Drunk James is a walking, talking reminder of everything he doesn’t have anymore, everything he will never have again. When he calls, lacking crucial social skills like self-control and any modicum of a filter, Regulus is forced to be the rational one, reminding them both that this boundary exists for a reason. A very good reason.

“Okay. Well I’m glad— it’s good that we talked about this. But this is— this has to be the last time. I’m hanging up now, okay?��

James continues as if he never spoke. “How’s your um— your boyfriend doing?”

Immediately no.

“I’m not talking about this with you—” Regulus attempts to shut him down, but James is nothing if not obstinate.

“You’re still dating the guy with the dumb fucking name, right?”

James knows full well that he is. Sirius would have informed him otherwise. He just wants to hear Regulus say it because he’s fucking sick and twisted. Naturally, Regulus can’t give him the satisfaction, so he avoids the question.

“You can’t think Regulus is a perfectly normal name and then turn around and shit on a guy for being named Kingsley.”

James scoffs on the other end of the phone. “I can shit on him as much as I want. Fucking hate that fucker.”

“You’ve never met him. You can’t hate someone you’ve never even met.”

“Sirius hates him.”

“Sirius doesn’t hate him—” Sirius just wishes he was you.

“Mhm. Told me so. Said he’s a little bitch who can’t hold his liquor.”

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to scoff. “This coming from you right now? You sound so fucked up, I doubt you can even see straight. Not that you could before, but—”

“I’m not fucked up,” James insists, then says calmly, “I just missed the way that you talk.”

This. This was why they had to stop. In his worst moments, Regulus loathes the fact that Sober James all but ignores him most of the time, only bothering to text him on important holidays or birthdays. That is, until he’s reminded that Drunk James wants to ruin him— completely and thoroughly— by the casual cruelty of speaking his mind and expecting Regulus to go on peacefully with his life as if he didn’t just upend it entirely.

“James…” he starts shakily.

“Fuck, that sounded stupid. This was,” James hiccups, “not my best idea, I fear. Rash. Extremely rash feeling.”

“What, drunk calling your ex? Yeah, I would say it’s one of your worst.”

James is quiet for a moment. “You kill me, you know? I-I hate talking to you.”

Rage wells up in Regulus’ throat so fast he nearly chokes on it. “You called me—”

“God, you sound good. You always sound sexy when you’re angry, did you know that? Rougher… hotter. All red in the face and your neck…I can almost see it, if I squint.” James pauses, presumably squinting like a drunken idiot. “Maybe that’s why I called you— to make you angry. To hear you be angry at me again. Stupid fucking thing to miss, isn’t it?”

Yet again, Regulus is at a loss.

“You— I’m— God, you’re a real fucking bastard. Do you have any idea how excruciating it is to talk to you when you’re like this?”

But James ignores him, saying ruefully, “Sirius told me, he always tells me, he says, ‘Don’t fucking do it, James. You always regret it, you always yell at me the next day for letting you call him,’ but he can’t stop me,” a childish giggle bursts from him. “I’m too fast. Much, much faster than him, just for the record. He’s never once beat me in a foot race, and if he says he has he’s a big, fat fucking liar—”

“James, I sincerely don’t give a fuck about that— be honest, did you run away from him at the bar?”

Drunk James will do that. He’s a runner. Well, not when Regulus was around to keep him on a tight leash, but it seems that without him, James is turning back to some of his worst habits.

The line goes quiet. Then, “A little bit.”

“It’s a yes or no question, James.”

“Mm.” He seems to think on it. “Yes, then.”

Regulus tosses his hand in the air, forgetting James can’t see him. “Go back and find him!”

“Don’t want to,” James sniffs. “Tryin to make my mistakes in peace.”

“You— I’m hanging up and calling Sirius.”

“No, no don’t!” James yells into the receiver, making Regulus wince and pull his phone away from his ear. James’ voice is much quieter when he speaks again.

“Don’t, I have to say— I wanted to tell you. I have to tell you that I’m sorry, Regulus. I’m so fucking sorry.”

A pit of dread forms in his stomach. James sounds wretched. He sounds like how Regulus feels when he thinks too long about how far they’ve drifted apart, how little they speak to each other anymore. For one infinitesimal second, Regulus gets the satisfaction of knowing that he’s not alone in this specific shade of misery— dark blue and bottomless. And then he reminds himself that he’s sober and his ex-boyfriend is drunk and they shouldn’t even be fucking talking right now if they knows what’s good for them.

“James, look, you’re drunk, you’re emotional—”

“‘S not what I’m apologizing for.”

“What, then?”

“Everything. All of it. I never—I wanted…”

Don’t say it, Regulus begs silently. Please don’t say what I—

“I still love you,” James breathes out. “I love you so much I can’t breathe around it.”

Regulus lets his eyes sink closed, firmly shuttering the tears forming in his eyes. He can’t let himself say it back. He can’t. If he does…

“James…” Regulus lets himself savor the sound of his name on his tongue. Then says softly, “It’s okay.”

They both know it’s not.

______________________________

James looks down at the number on his phone. Blinks, just to make sure he isn’t imagining… but, no, he isn’t making it up. He picks up his phone, his apprehension growing.

“Regulus?” he asks, unsure.

A snort sounds on the other line. “Hm, fffancy seeing you here.”

James blinks again. “...We’re talking over the phone.”

He doesn’t have to see Regulus to know that he’s just waved James’ words away with a flippant hand. “Metaphorically, then.”

It’s been weeks since the last time they spoke. James remembers very little of that ill-conceived conversation, except of course for the part where he said the one thing he promised himself he would never say again because his brain hates him. It’s played on a loop in his head everyday since, his ragged, sincere words and Regulus’ noncommittal response to them.

It’s okay, he had said.

It was anything but okay. They both knew that.

He had been doing so well, had been training himself to think of other things besides his ex boyfriend and his ex boyfriend’s new boyfriend and what the two of them were getting up to together, all the fun things they were probably doing while James was just focused on getting through his day. On getting to the next one. The next. The next the next the next the next the next—

“You don’t have ‘nything to say? Hm?” Regulus’ words slur. Unusual for him. Regulus was always so in control of himself.

James frowns. “Are you okay? You sound—”

“Drunk? Well, that’s because I am. Royally, massively fucking toasted. Thought I’d return the favor and call you for once. ‘S your lucky day.”

“Oh. I guess— I deserve that.”

“I’ll say. Taste of your own medicine. Drink up, Potter.”

James huffs a humorless laugh. “You must be drunk if you’re calling me ‘Potter’. You never call me that.”

“Never say never, Potter,” he spits out meanly. “It’s never a good idea to say never, remember? Remember how not good of an idea it is to use the word never? My therapist, she says I need to stop talking in absolutes. Never and always. Never say never, I learned that from her. Shame you didn’t, too.”

James sinks into a kitchen chair, burying his face in his free hand, rubbing out the headache growing in his left temple. “You were right,” he admits. “This is excruciating.”

This conversation is making him feel awful for every single time he’s dialed Regulus drunk, the barrier between his thoughts and his words nowhere to be found. Regulus was right. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. He deserved this for every single second Regulus had to keep his cool on the other line while James was busy fucking them up a little more than they already had been.

“Like remember when you said we’d never break up? Or when you said you’d always love me? Hilarious. Really, really funny stuff.”

Regulus’ voice is liquid rage, red hot and acidic. James swears it’s burning him through the phone.

He sighs. “Regulus. Can we not?”

“No, no, we should talk about it. It’s been long enough. We can be rational adults and have a damn conversation. Here, you know what, I’ll even go first. I wanted you to come with me, you know. I should have asked you. To come with me.”

James feels his heart stutter in his chest at those words. “You did ask me to come with you,” he murmurs.

Regulus was waiting for that, like a snake rearing to strike. “Wait. Yessss, that’s right. I asked you to come with me and you said no! Now I remember. You said fucking no.”

James clenches his jaw, his own anger slowly rising up the column of his throat. “I didn’t say no. I asked for some time to decide if I wanted to upend my life and move across the country, which is a pretty sane response to a question of that fucking magnitude. You’re the one who decided my hesitation meant I didn’t fucking love you.”

“Well, it sure didn’t feel like you loved me when you let me leave.”

“Let you—?!” James cuts off, knowing he’ll blow a gasket if he doesn’t calm himself. “Regulus,” he starts, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one lets you do anything! You do whatever you please and damn the consequences! I just never— I didn’t want to be one of those consequences.”

Regulus, to no one’s shock, does not attempt to calm himself. In fact, James fears he’s only stoked the flames.

“You are hands down the most infuriating human being on the face of the goddamn planet! Of course you’re blaming me! Of course, like you were just an innocent bystander while I went about ruining our relationship! Like you had nothing to do with it! You had no part in it, no, not perfect James Potter, never him! I cannot believe— I just— it’s all so— fuck!”

His voice breaks on the word and then the rest of him breaks too. His tears sound painful, like they’re fighting they’re way out of Regulus’ body with each sob. He cries loudly and messily and James can’t pretend like the sound doesn’t break his heart all over again.

“Regulus?” He makes his voice gentle. Soothing. “Hey, don’t cry. Listen, you’re drunk. Why don’t we try talking when you’ve sobered up?”

“No, James,” he sobs, gasping for breath. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I fucking fucked up.”

James sits up straighter, alarmed.

“Are you okay? Are you safe? What’s going on—”

Regulus sniffles. “No, I’m— I’m at my place. I’m fine. It’s just… it’s Kingsley.”

James’ mind goes still in a way that should scare him but doesn’t. “Did he hurt you?” He doesn’t bother keeping the cool rage out of his voice.

“No!” Regulus nearly shouts. “No.. the opposite, actually. I hurt him. Badly.”

James closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath. “Look… I’m sorry you’re upset but I really don’t want to listen to your lover’s spat—”

“I said your name last night,” Regulus whispers.

“You—what?”

Regulus doesn’t hold himself back. “He fucked me and I said your name. When I came. Yelled it, actually. No way to hide it. James and Kingsley don’t sound remotely similar.”

And that— well. James has lost the ability for rational thought. “Oh,” he manages.

“Yeah, oh,” Regulus mimics him harshly. “He stormed out and we haven’t talked since. And I think— I think he’s going to break up with me now. He should break up with me. It’s— what I did is unforgivable.”

No matter how hard he tries, James can’t think of a single thing to say to this information. Naturally, Regulus won’t let that stand.

“James? Are you gonna say something?”

“What do you want me to say?” he asks weakly.

“Say you’re sorry!” Regulus shouts. “Say you’re sorry for drunk calling me all the fucking time, for reminding me that you exist, for reminding me I still fucking love—”

He cuts off, but not quite quickly enough. James still heard everything he didn’t say.

“I am sorry,” he says, voice rough. “I’m really fucking sorry, Regulus.”

He hears the hitch in Regulus’ breath. If he closes his eyes he can see Regulus before him, see the pain take up residence on his beautiful face, the way he scrunches his nose when he cries, his eyes going stark red, his cheeks staining themselves pink.

He can see Regulus so clearly in his mind. But he didn’t see what was coming next.

“I-I just want to be with you again,” Regulus cries softly. “I want to be with you, James. I’ll move back, I’ll quit my program, I’ll move in with you like you wanted, I’ll do fucking anything— but I can’t live like this anymore, James, I can’t, I can’t—”

James’ own tears slide down his cheeks silently, falling off the cliff-edge of his chin.

“Regulus,” he says as firmly as he can manage. “Stop it. Please. You didn’t move away on a whim, okay? You’re in an amazing program. You love Chicago, you love the city and the river walk and the Art Institute and that bookshop across from Grant Park—”

“You can’t— I didn’t tell you about any of—”

“I pay attention. I know you love it. And I love where I live. I love my job here.” He forces the next words to leave his mouth, even though they taste like poison. “We’re… in the right places for ourselves. I have to believe that.”

This doesn’t satisfy Regulus. The most twisted part of him is glad about that.

“Why don’t you fucking get it, James? I can’t be in the right place if I’m not with you. The right place doesn’t exist if we aren’t in it together.”

James squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Regulus can’t know how badly this is hurting him. He can’t know that James feels like dying every day they spend apart, that James has applied for over ten jobs in Chicago just to hear nothing back, has looked at apartments in Regulus’ neighborhood enough times he’s saved the site to his favorites bar. Even when Regulus was dating someone else. Even after Regulus had moved on from him.

He's looked at it from so many angles, tried to reconfigure it so many times in his mind, and nothing made sense for them. One of them would always be giving up something, making sacrifices for the other, letting the resentment build.

Even thought Regulus is saying everything he’s been wanting to hear for an entire year...

He’s drunk. He’s drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t know what he wants.

“We’re happy, Regulus,” James tells him stiffly. “We’re both happy.”

Maybe if he keeps repeating it, he’ll finally start to believe it.

“If this is what happiness feels like,” Regulus snarls, “then I don’t want to be fucking happy.”

No. And James doesn’t either.

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. I promise.”

Regulus laughs without humor. “I’ll still want you in the morning. Being sober doesn’t change that. It just lets me hold on to a shred of my dignity and not call you to tell you about it. But it doesn’t change a damn thing. You have to know that.”

He’s drunk, James reminds himself. He’s fucking drunk.

“Goodnight, Regulus,” he chokes out.

“I still love you, James.”

“It’s okay, Regulus. It’ll be okay.”

They both know it won’t be.

#hahahahaha #cooked this up on the drive home (listening to NFU ofc) and knew i would be sitting myself down to write it #yeah i'm gnawing on the right person wrong time trope for these two #the idea that they love each other but might not belong together #mmmm yep. yep hurts SO good.#lyrics from NFU i would be REMISS not to mention include: i'm not fucked up i just miss the way that you talk #and i still love you you say it's okay #but it's not #YEAHHHHHH YUUUUUUP #this is for mil bc she opened my eyes to dwg #and also i love her <3 #jegulus #jeggy #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black

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toonice113 · 19 hours ago

Text

Renegade ⋆ ★ Matt Rempe

Pairings: Matt Rempe x Reader

Genre: angst

Summary: After a heated fight, you finally tell Matt all you’ve been keeping in.

Warnings: none

Word count: 644

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚�� a short blurb of something longer i could write but probably won’t because college sucks, full angst because i'm PMSing and been crying and getting angry at the stupidest things ever (and also not so stupid things because the world sucks rn)

“I don’t know what you want me to do” Matt’s voice is quiet yet the change in volume from your previous shouting match does nothing to ease the situation, in fact, it feels worse

“You never do! And that’s the problem” At this point he’s sitting on the couch while you are leaning on the small dining table in your shared apartment “I moved my life to be here with you and it just feels like we’ve never been further apart” Matt doesn’t say anything, his head is in his hands and you wait and wait for him to say something but nothing comes out so you pick up the bag you had discarded when the fight started and walk towards the door

His hand stops you as you are opening the door “Don’t” he shakes his head “Don’t go”

“Why? Matt, this is not working, we’re not working, it’s breaking us” Your eyes are filled with tears, and although they were tears of rage before, there’s a deep sadness in them now

“Okay, okay yeah, you’re right” He says, an exhausted air coming from him “Things haven’t been great lately and I’m sorry, baby I’m so sorry I haven’t been all you’ve needed me to be and I won’t stop you from leaving right now, not if you really think that’s what we need” You look at him, he looks tired, and he probably is since he had just gotten back from a game before you started fighting, his suit still on “But please come back to me, this whole thing, it’s not us, it’s the timing, maybe it’s the wrong time for us to be together, but I can’t lose you completely”

“Matt” You say, tired as well “I can’t promise you that and you know it, this is not about timing, this has been going on for forever, everytime we fight we just push it down and move on acting like everything is right the next day and we can’t keep doing this, truth is you don’t trust me”

“I do trust you” His words are sharp, defensive

“But you don’t, When was the last time we talked, like actually took a moment to talk about something not superficial? We talk about our days, we talk about my work and we talk about hockey, sometimes we talk about tv shows or tiktoks but we never talk about ourselves” You feel silly saying these words, and that’s the reason you haven’t brought it up before, but you know it’s exactly what you need to talk about right now “You often come in angry after a game and when I ask about it you only say it was a rough game and you don’t want to talk about it, and if I was any other person I would get it because you keep this mask up that you are this big scary enforcer with a massive ego that only cares about winning fights, but I know you Matt, you are so much more than that, and sometimes I wish you would feel comfortable enough to talk to me when you are hurting” The words seem to sink into matt as soon as you speak them “I want to be there for you because I love you, but every time you push me away it kills me a little more so no Matt, this is not about timing, it’s about you not trusting me”

“I-” But he has nothing to say, you’re right and he knows it.

“Matt please, get your shit together so I can love you” With that you let go of his hand and walk out of the door shutting it behind you and not looking back, in the apartment Matt crumbles, he just did it, ruined the best thing in his life because he was too scared to open up.

#nhl fic #matt rempe #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe angst #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe x you

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redstrewn · 2 years ago

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Omg i am in an ais mood rn. I havent been in any mood except leander for like the whole time until now

#staring at that monster form silhouette unlocked something in my brain methinks.....#redstrewn talks #i think i really connected w the visual display of seething fucking rage #his cool nonchalance........his complete ease with intimidation #his security in himself that comes to him as naturally as breathing............#im fucking losing my mind #??????? WHERE DID THIS UNBRIDLED LUST FOR AIS HITTING ME LIKE A 5 TON TRUCK IN AN INSTANT COME FROM?????#I THINK SEEING THE FULL SLEEVE OF HIS MAGICAL TATTOO SNAKING UP HIS FORM ALSO HELPED........#i think i didnt feel much when i played the demo bc the moments that were supposed to be hot were calming to me #like i saw ppl post abt freaking out at certain scenes #like when he leaned in to whisper in MCs ear #i didnt see anyone post about when you almost slip but normally that would probably make me giddy #but for some reason he just makes me feel so calm and secure #every moment that was supposed to give butterflies just made me go ^-^ awh. hes so sweet.#BUT THINKING ABOUT HIS RAGE.......I KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE SO ANGRY........#I KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE #AND ITS DOING THINGS TO MY BRAIN.

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technically-human · 4 months ago

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Part two of the reverse verse is here! The reverse boys meet the original boys. They're not really getting along as well as I had hoped...

Again, this was a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are and they asked for angst/funny vibes... I think it's mostly just angst though. Oh, well...

Part one

#dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #edwin x charles #reverse verse #there's a lot i could say about this one #the idea of someone telling edwin he's go to hell is absurd as it is #edwin telling edwin? lmao #the charles... oh they hate each other #reverse charles is angry (he always is) because this other version of himself was spared hell... in exchange for edwin going there?#obviously it doesn't work like that. og charles hadn't even been born when his edwin was sent to hell #but anger is not a rational thing. especially not for this boy #og charles? you don't want to know what he's thinking #i'm telling you anyways #he... kind of agrees. if someone had to go to hell #why edwin? why not him? there is an universe in which that happened #so why not this one? unfair #then again... look at this charles who did go to hell #he's explosive. he's DANGEROUS #he shouldn't be near edwin #if og charles had gone to hell would he be the same? would he be too angry to be trusted? would he be like his father?#and if so would that really count as saving edwin at all?#if this is the kind of best friend poor edwin would end up with?#on a happier note though #physical contact!! reverse charles loves it #i don't have all the details but his hell was on the rage ring so it was different to the dollhouse.#and it was a very violent place so boy loves gentle touches #luckily edwin is more willing to give them to him with each year #i think what the edwins are feeling is a lot more clear #but still would love to hear your thoughts

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impossible-rat-babies · 2 years ago

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4.3 really just scratches the brain both in and out of character brain and I cannot tell which one hates it here more

#yotsuyu deserved better I am going to shout about it #she deserved better! i have a lot of feelings about her getting both shafted by the narrative and getting an ending that felt fitting #she got what she wanted but sometimes it feels as if she didn’t have another option #and like….eyrie feels for her. they feel for her in a way they feel for Fordola #it’s not pity—far from it but they’re angry at the cruelty of the world #they know it is like this but they are not happy about it #so much of what they do in the patch is being beside her. like in Namai they step between her and the villagers not as a threat #but to help her. to help her back up and to offer to take her back home #asahi makes eyrie’s blood boil but they have it as a point of pride to not let it show #something about denying satisfaction #it’s interesting crossing asahi’s idolization of Zenos and his hatred of eyrie for killing him v. eyrie’s own kinship with zenos #and the unresolved grief they feel over his death #asahi’s woefully incorrect perception of eyrie twisted by rage giving way to eyrie seeing asahi with clarity and finding Disgust there #he is repulsive to eyrie but more than that I think eyrie pities him #which is the worst of the crimes #oc: eyrie kisne

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vaguenotions · 9 months ago

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Oh, yes, I just love your unannounced sleepover where you both come back from the bar after carefully avoiding telling me that's where you were going, and also neglecting to tell me when you'd be home! I definitely do not want to knock you on your ass and take a bat to your dome! That would be rude and unnecessary :)

Oh yes, please do start talking about shit amongst yourselves and make me feel isolated and othered in ny own room! These moments are what I live for, of course. Naturally. Who would ever have any issues with this arrangement at all?

#txt #might delete this later but i also might not because my irritation and rage is real and i shouldnt have to so constantly discard it #i am so tired of constantly putting it aside #i want your blood in my fucking teeth. and it's your fault i want it there- certainly- because I TRY. I try so hard not to feel this way #but eventually you get tired of those little games too #okay I drafted this for a minute bc idk if this fucker is actually spending the night or not i just know he took off his belt. BUT THEN ONE #+ OF THESE FUCKERS DECIDED TO START TALKING ABOUT SPIDERS. A THING THAT I HAVE A VERY BAD PHOBIA ABOUT. I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU #thinking of killing and maiming and maiming and killing and killing and shredding and tearing and killing and-#seriously though what. the fuck. you even go ''oh they're not gonna like this'' THEN HOW ABOUT YOU DONT FUCKING SAY IT #ohh and now you're sitting here making plans for when you go out without me next! I'm going to make you a bloody smear on my fucking floor #i am going to Dissect you. I'm going to rip you apart and feed you to the local strays and csrrion birds.#not even getting up and leaving right fucking now would assuage me. i wish i wasn't so full of fucking hate but you just keep adding fuel +#+to the fire #im so tired. I'll come back with a ''im fine now'' if he fucking leaves but im going to seethe now. im so fucking angry.#how do you fucks continually just bounce between the topics that makes me feel Most Violent Towards You? literally how do you not realize i #+ want you dead at this point? how do you not realize the grave you've dug for yourselves in my mind?#i dont fucking mask it that well. i know i dont. and still you fucking do this #((part of why it being a bar specifically that bothers me besides the very deliberate and careful avoidance of mentioning it to me is that #+*one of you is at serious risk for becoming an alcoholic. why the fuck are you being enabled this way?*))#((if i was dating someone with a genetic predisposition of alcoholism i would make your regular dates nights- idk- NOT THE FUCKING BAR +#+ DISTRICT. DO YOU EVEN FUCKING CARE ABOUT THEM? DO YOU? This fucking boils my god damn blood.))#(ultimately its their decision if they want to fucking drink yeah sure whatever YOU DONT NEED TO REGULARLY AND READILY ENABLE IT. BASTARD.)#(If they want to drink so fucking bad- if they push for the bars- JUST BUY SOME ALCOHOL AND BRING IT FUCKING HERE. It limits how much they+#+can have for one- and it would isolate me from you two less! just as an added fucking bonus! but no very unreasonable of me. what was i +#+thinking? clearly not about them 🙄)#i might be a little out of line here. i can admit that. but if anyone spent a week in my fucking shoes back when they first got together +#+and then now? you would fucking understand.#and they just. keep. talking. to eachother. no attempts to include me. not even glances my way. like always.#''oh nothing will change'' IT FUCKING CHANGED. I want to hurt you so bsdly for that lie with ever passing day. do you even know it was a li #do you? anyway was abt to post this and noticed a gif i have of a woman ripping her shirt off so im going to stare at that until im calm ig.

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billymayslesbian · 9 months ago

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Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

#drug mention #saw one where op was making fun of people for not smoking #pic

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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mrsbarnesblog · 21 days ago

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unspoken

masterlist

summary: after a heated argument, Rafe is terrified he’s pushed you too far and that might actually lose you

word count: 1.6k

warnings: allusions to sex, hurt/comfort, insecurities, fear of loss

The room was only lightened by the bedside lamp, casting long shadows over the bed where you and Rafe lay tangled in the sheets. The air was thick with the weight of the situation. Your small argument, just a simple misunderstanding, somehow quickly took the wrong turn, and you both said things that you didn’t mean to.

You were fighting, pouring all the pent-up energy and exhaustion from work, and Rafe’s stubbornness didn’t exactly make it easier. It felt raw and vulnerable, and then suddenly it all led to you stumbling into your bedroom and ripping your clothes off each other.

Your breathing was still heavy, and your body was still feeling hot and tingly from what had happened just a few minutes ago.

Rafe's chest rose and fell beneath the sheets, his arm thrown across his forehead as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't said a word since the argument in the kitchen, which was so unusual of him. His kisses and the way he touched your body weren’t in his typical longing and teasing way; they were angry, almost desperate. Now, there was a silence hanging between you, thick and almost suffocating.

And you knew that partly it was your fault. Blinded by the rage and hurt, you said something that you would’ve never said in the right mind. Something that you should’ve never used against Rafe, knowing his sensitiveness about this topic. But the words about you better get out of his life and you not even knowing why you were still there left your mouth before you could actually process it.

You instantly regretted it. Seeing the sudden change in his face and eyes and the way his posture became more tense, another sharp reply died on his tongue. You wanted to say something else, soften the situation, but it was too late when Rafe dealt with the problem the only way he knew—he kissed you with all he had, not allowing you to say anything else. Pulling you flush against his body, he gripped the back of your neck until you answered him with the same energy.

Your words felt like a bucket of cold water, and he panicked, knowing that it might be it. Rafe knew that sex was not a good way to solve a problem, but it was the only thing he thought he was genuinely good at. He wanted to please you, to beg you to stay, so he led you to your bedroom, even if he felt empty inside, even he couldn’t say anything out loud because of the lump in his throat.

Now, as the argument faded away, when it all seemed too stupid to even argue about, it was weirdly uncomfortable. Rafe’s mind was spiraling. He was too scared to even look at you, too afraid that the simple move or word might push you to get up and actually leave.

You slowly turned onto your side, as if afraid to make noise in the dead silence of your bedroom, your heart pounding with guilt and worry, unsure of where to even begin. You could feel the emotional distance between you two, and it stung. Rafe wasn’t usually the type to get vulnerable or emotional, yet you knew that he took everything too close to his heart. This time, something had shifted in him, and it left you unsettled because you were the reason. You could feel his presence next to you, but it was different.

Slowly, you reached out and laid your hand on his chest. He flinched, but then, after a moment, his hand covered yours, squeezing gently and letting out a shaky breath. He didn’t say anything, but the tension between you was palpable.

"I didn't mean it." You whispered, your voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you think that was the end. I just… I was angry, and I didn’t know how to say what I really felt. But I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to leave you." You stopped for a second, noticing the way he clenched his jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

The words seemed to hang in the air for a beat before Rafe finally moved, turning to face you. His eyes were raw and tired, and there was a certain despair in them that made your heart ache. He reached up slowly, his hand trembling as he gently traced your cheek with his fingertips, as if trying to reassure himself that you were still here and that you weren’t slipping away from him.

“I thought… I thought you were done with me.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotions. “I thought I’d messed up too much, that I’d pushed you too far. And I couldn’t take it, I couldn't imagine not having you in my life.”

You felt his breath hitch as his thumb grazed the corner of your mouth, his gaze softening with a mix of relief and still-present fear.

“Oh, Ray…” You said gently, reaching up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve never pushed me too far. We fight, we argue, but I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I love you too much to just walk away.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he blinked them away quickly, but it was too late—you saw them, the rawness in them that he was trying so hard to hide.

His chest tightened, and he exhaled shakily, a sob escaping him before he could stop it. He pulled your still naked body close, burying his face in your neck, his hands gripping you like he was afraid if he let go, you’d vanish.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, sneaking one hand around your waist to find some comfort in the feeling of your skin on his. “For being so difficult and stubborn. I don’t know how to be better. I don’t know how to make you understand how much you mean to me.”

You held him tighter, your hand running through his hair as you soothed him. “You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long while, you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms. The anger had faded, replaced with something deeper, another level of trust and vulnerability that were new for your relationship. With how hard it was for Rafe to open up and express himself, it was a big step, and you wanted to do everything in your power to make him comfortable.

Rafe still wasn’t entirely sure of himself, but you could feel him beginning to trust in your words as his body relaxed against yours, his breath slowing. His hand never left your face, his thumb still tracing the curve of your cheek like he was trying to memorize every detail of you.

“I was so scared.” Rafe murmured, his voice trembling as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. “I thought I’d lost you... and you’re my entire word.”

You felt his breath warm against your skin, and your heart ached at the tremble in his voice. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your fingers brushing the stray hair from his forehead. “You’re not going to lose me, Rafe.” You said softly, your voice carrying all the reassurance you could muster. “Not tonight, not ever. I promise.”

His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line like he was trying to hold something back. But then he shook his head, his blue eyes locked on yours, glassy with unshed tears. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in my life. I don’t know what I’d do if you—”

You didn’t let him finish. Leaning in, you kissed him deeply, your lips catching his in a way that was tender but still confident enough to show that what you said was true. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his grip firm like he needed this connection to anchor himself. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as the weight of the moment settled around you.

“You’re stuck with me, Rafe Cameron. And don’t think that you can get rid of me this easily, even if you’re annoying me sometimes.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, shaky and uncertain, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Good.” He said, his voice barely audible. “Because I don’t think I could handle it any other way.”

You smiled, your hand smoothing over his back in slow, comforting strokes as his body began to relax against yours. He exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the tension that had gripped him loosening with every beat of your heart.

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore; it was warm and allowed you to finally fully enjoy the presence of each other. Rafe pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there as if savoring the moment. And as the hours stretched on, the night wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you both were too lost in each other to care about the outer world.

For the rest of the night, words became unnecessary. Instead, there were soft kisses, quiet touches, and the unspoken promise that no matter what, everything is going to be okay. Wrapped in his arms, you felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was peace.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron one shot #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #obx x reader #obx fanfiction

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whimsicallywiddershins · 5 months ago

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So we found out from Palamedes and the Unwanted Guest that lyctorhood is not perfect and leaves a mark on the necromancer. The necromancer devours the cavalier's soul, and unintentionally gains something from it, mostly emotions or new urges or something like that. Like Ianthe getting Babs' hatred/distaste of Gideon.

John devoured Alecto. For a little while, John and Alecto were one, two souls intermingling like two pieces of flesh bleeding together. Then John created her a body and poured her soul back in, unintentionally creating a perfect lyctorhood.

John didn't really know what he was doing. He was running on guesswork and instinct. So I think he and Alecto shared and gained something from eachother.

Alecto is always described as angry. Which makes sense, considering the circumstances. But when John killed and devoured the earth, he was furious. He was raging. He hated.

What if Alecto got most of her anger and hatred and rage from John? Some of it was hers, yes. But hatred? A never ending anger? What if Alecto got what John was feeling when he ate her, made her?

And John. What did he get?

The thing is, we don't know what Alecto's personality was like. She was a planet, not exactly a person with feelings.

But we do know what Resurrection Beasts are like. They are relentless. They hunt and hunt and hunt John. Angry, yes. But mostly unstoppable and stuck in a never ending cycle of hunting John no matter the cost.

John won't forgive the Trillionaires. He doesnt even seem that angry anymore. But he won't stop hunting them, not for anything. Augestine begged him to stop. John doesn't let his lyctors tell him to stop. John doesn't care how many worlds he kills, how many people he displaced. He doesn't care about the cost to the Houses. He is relentless. He hunts and hunts and hunts.

John acts like a Resurrection Beast. And Alecto acts like John.

#the locked tomb #tlt #nona the ninth #alecto the ninth #harrow the ninth #john gaius #alecto #locked tomb spoilers #harrow the ninth spoilers #spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers #fandom #theories #headcannons #the unwanted guest #the unwanted guest spoilers

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wolvietxt · 1 month ago

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𝓑UTTERFLIES.

pairing : bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings : light angst, shouting, reader stands up for bucky, kinda open-ended summary : bucky feels weird things in his stomach whenever he thinks about you, he’s convinced he’s getting sick wc : 1.7k a/n : part two here

the avengers tower was a hive of activity. agents scurried in and out, stark’s gadgets beeped incessantly, and the hum of conversations filled the hallways. amidst the chaos, you’d carved out your own little routine - something steady to hold onto in a world that rarely stopped moving. and then there was bucky barnes. he was the quiet one, always on the edges of the action, as though he wasn’t sure where he fit in. you’d noticed him almost immediately when you moved in, not because he tried to stand out, but because he did the opposite.

every morning, he’d shuffle into the kitchen, head down, hair slightly messy from sleep. you’d offer him a soft “good morning,” trying not to sound too eager, and he’d nod or mumble something before retreating to the solitude of the gym or his room. his shyness only made you want to know him more. there was a depth to him, layers you were dying to peel back, but he seemed content - or maybe resigned - to keeping everyone at arm’s length.

still, you didn’t give up. you tried in small ways: leaving him a cup of coffee when you knew he’d be up early, asking if he’d want to join for movie nights, even offering him a quiet corner during team meetings when things got too loud. his answers were always polite but distant. it wasn’t rejection, not really, but it still left you wondering if you’d ever get through to him.

then came the day you overheard something that made your blood boil.

it happened in the common room. you’d been looking for a misplaced file when you caught snippets of a conversation between two junior agents. at first, you thought nothing of it - just the usual chatter that filled the tower. but then you heard bucky’s name, and your attention snapped to them like a rubber band.

“he’s just so… weird,” one of them said, his tone dripping with disdain. “i mean, come on, we’re supposed to trust him? after everything he’s done?”

“seriously,” the other agreed. “it’s like walking on eggshells around him. guy barely talks, and when he does, it’s just… creepy. i don’t know why they keep him around.”

rage bubbled up in your chest, hot and immediate. before you could stop yourself, you stepped into the room, your voice cutting through their laughter like a knife. “who do you think you are?”

the agents froze, their faces draining of color as they realized you’d been listening. one of them tried to stammer an excuse, but you weren’t having it.

“no, i want to know,” you said, your voice steady but sharp. “what gives you the right to talk about him like that? do you have any idea what he’s been through? what he’s overcome? or do you just like tearing people down because it makes you feel better about yourselves?”

they exchanged nervous glances, clearly searching for an exit, but you weren’t finished.

“bucky barnes has more strength in his pinky finger than you’ll ever have in your entire life. and if i hear either of you - either of you - say one more word about him, you’ll be reassigned so fast you won’t have time to pack your desks. understood?”

they mumbled something that sounded like agreement before bolting from the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding from the adrenaline.

unbeknownst to you, bucky had been standing just around the corner.

he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. he’d been on his way to the common room to grab a bottle of water when he heard your voice. at first, he’d thought you were just talking to someone, but as the words sank in, he realized you were defending him. you were angry - no, furious - on his behalf, and it left him rooted to the spot, unable to move.

no one had ever done that for him before.

days later, the memory still lingered. he couldn’t shake the image of you standing there, fire in your eyes, your voice unwavering. it was as though you’d burned yourself into his mind, and every time he thought about it, his chest tightened. it wasn’t just what you’d said; it was the way you’d said it, with so much conviction it made him feel… something he couldn’t quite name.

that night, he lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. his heart raced, his palms were clammy, and his stomach churned in a way that felt almost… pleasant? but also deeply unsettling. was he getting sick? that seemed impossible - the serum made sure of that. yet the symptoms were undeniable. every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, heard your voice, and felt that strange, fluttering sensation in his chest.

by the next morning, he was convinced something was seriously wrong.

bucky had never been one to dwell on his feelings. survival, duty, and regret had occupied most of his thoughts for as long as he could remember. but now, as he sat on the edge of his bed staring at the floor, he couldn’t ignore the storm swirling inside him. he felt… strange. his chest was tight, his thoughts were scattered, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop replaying the moment he overheard you in the common room.

he should’ve stepped in, said something to those agents himself, but instead, he’d stood there like a coward while you defended him. the memory of your voice, sharp with anger, made his palms sweat. no one had ever spoken up for him like that. people either feared him or avoided him altogether. but you - you’d stood there, unwavering, because you believed he was worth it. the thought made his heart race in a way that felt entirely too unfamiliar.

it had to be some kind of illness, right? he couldn’t be sick - the serum wouldn’t allow it - but what else could explain the way his stomach flipped whenever you were around? or the way his hands fidgeted nervously whenever you said his name? bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. this was ridiculous. he needed answers.

and so, he turned to the only person he trusted to give him the truth.

“steve, something’s wrong with me,” bucky blurted out later that day. they were in the gym, steve halfway through a set of push-ups when bucky’s words made him pause mid-rep.

“wrong?” steve asked, pushing himself to his feet. “what do you mean?”

bucky hesitated, crossing his arms over his chest. “it’s… i don’t know. i’ve been feeling weird lately. my heart’s racing, i can’t think straight, and every time i see - ” he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “never mind. forget it.”

steve’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “does this have anything to do with a certain someone?”

bucky’s jaw tightened. “what? no. that’s not… that’s not it.”

“sure, buck,” steve said, his tone teasing. “you’re probably just coming down with something.”

bucky narrowed his eyes. “serum, remember? i don’t get sick.”

steve’s smile widened. “exactly.”

bucky scowled, realizing too late that steve wasn’t going to be any help. he mumbled a quick excuse and left, his frustration mounting. if steve wasn’t going to take him seriously, he’d just have to figure this out himself.

next on his list was sam. surely sam would have a straight answer for him.

“ you’re not dying, man,” sam said after bucky cornered him in the kitchen. “although, judging by the way you’re acting, you’d think the world was ending.”

bucky frowned. “i’m not acting any way.”

sam raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. look, maybe you just need to… i don’t know, talk to someone about it. someone who isn’t me.”

bucky groaned. “you’re no help.”

“at least i’m honest,” sam shot back, smirking as he left bucky alone with his thoughts.

it wasn’t until later that night, during a rare moment of quiet, that bucky found himself seeking out natasha. if anyone could give him a straight answer, it was her. she was sitting in the lounge, flipping through a book, when he approached.

“can i ask you something?” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

natasha glanced up, her expression unreadable. “always.”

bucky shifted awkwardly, his fingers drumming against his thigh. “if… hypothetically… someone couldn’t stop thinking about another person, and it made them feel all… weird inside, what would you call that?”

natasha’s lips twitched, and for a moment, bucky thought she might laugh. but instead, she closed her book and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “weird how?”

bucky struggled to find the words. “just… weird. like, heart-racing, can’t-think-straight, stomach-doing-flips kind of weird.”

natasha studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp and assessing. “sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

bucky blinked. “got what?”

she smirked. “you’ll figure it out.”

and just like that, she returned to her book, leaving bucky more confused than ever.

over the next few days, bucky’s “symptoms” only seemed to worsen. he found himself drawn to you in ways he couldn’t explain. the way you smiled, the sound of your laugh, even the little things you did - like leaving a cup of coffee on the counter for him - made his chest ache in the best possible way. it was maddening.

finally, in a last-ditch effort to make sense of what was happening, he sought out wanda. if anyone could give him clarity, it was her.

wanda listened patiently as bucky explained his predicament, her expression calm and composed. when he finished, she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“bucky,” she said gently, “you’re not sick.”

he frowned. “but - ”

“you’ve got a crush,” she said simply.

bucky’s heart stopped. “a crush?”

wanda nodded. “yes. and from the sound of it, it’s about time you did something about it.”

bucky stared at her, his mind racing. the idea felt foreign, almost impossible. but as he thought about you - the way you’d stood up for him, the way you’d always looked and spoken to him with so much warmth and understanding - he realized wanda was right.

ᰔ bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid

@yvespecially, @hhiggs, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd, @superlegend216

@withasideofmeg, @pvndomi, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @bbittenapples, @hazydespair

@aoi_targaryen, @person-005, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot.

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time.

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit.

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava.

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider.

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast?

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something.

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’.

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you.

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.”

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway.

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?”

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors.

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him.

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle.

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end.

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs.

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room.

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get.

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you.

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same.

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.”

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close.

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth.

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants.

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full.

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts.

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?”

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles.

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane.

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats, nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high.

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance.

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention.

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”

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