#ghostriley

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Ghost, looking at himself in the mirror: Ah, you again.

[annaphoenix1994]

Acts of Service Headcanons

Masterlist:

How I would assume Simon shows his love for you.

Tags: Domestic Simon/Soft Simon/Implied Smut/Fluff

Simon has always been rough around the edges, but that doesn’t mean he can’t show how he feels for you through acts of service as he has always been bad with expressing his emotions through words.

He gets you flowers for no reason at all.

He brings you lunch when you’re working a long shift at work, even when you’ve already packed your lunch.

He knows you’d prefer take-out sometimes anyway, especially if you’ve been having a stressful day.

When driving, he likes to hold your hand and fidget with your fingers, giving your ring finger more attention than the rest, rubbing the area where a ring would be.

One day, he thought.

Even though he had been looking at rings every chance he got, not liking any of the ones on display as he thought you wouldn’t like it as you weren’t one for extravagant taste. You were simple.

Hell, he could get you a ring from Claire’s and you’d wear it proudly.

When watching a movie or his favorite show. He likes it when your legs are propped up on his lap so he can massage your feet and calves.

While deployed, he would find the time to send you a loving email or paper letter - depending on where he was.

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet as well as in his uniform - one of them being of the two of you in his breast pocket of his uniform, reminding him with every glance that he had everything he ever wanted.

You brought out the best in him.

However, he kept the photo in the barracks if he knew he was about to go on a recon mission, afraid that the enemy would find it and target you.

When in the bedroom, he puts your pleasure before his own.

He lets you take the lead in foreplay, loving every bit of it. But when you tell him with your body language that you want him in control, he doesn’t hold back.

When sleeping, he’s either the big spoon or on his back while you’re snuggled to his chest.

He never lets you sleep where you’re between him and the door.

There’s no way in Hell.

No matter where you’re at - whether it be at home, a hotel, or a relative, he’s always between you and a point of entry.

In public places, his hand is always on the small of your back, keeping you in front of him as most enemy’s attack from behind.

If you’re at a store and stop to look at an item on the shelf, he stops walking and waits for you to finish, not wanting to put major distance between the pair of you.

He was a bit clingy sometimes, but you understood why. In fact, you embraced it as you haven’t been used to it before.

He wished you could be as clingy as he would, but he knew you always tried to give him his space when he needs it.

On the days that you’re working and he’s off-duty, you text him when you make it to work and when you’re leaving, knowing it gives him reassurance that you’re okay.

Although he checks in every hour or two to check on you and if you’ve eaten your lunch yet.

Speaking of reassurance, you never have to ask for it. He knows when you feel uneasy about something. Whether it being your social anxiety, sensory overload, or frustration from a work day, he was always there to help your mental stability.

When out with your friends, both yours and his, it’s always a group affair. Soap would bring his spouse as well as Price and Gaz. It helped Simon’s social anxiety a lot as he knew his team was there, but it didn’t stop him from keeping himself between you and the point of entry.

[cassandrabetty1]

my first post!!! AHHH!! (I DIDN'T MAKE THIS I GOT IT OFF PINTEREST) Mwahh

[cat-d1e]

蜘蛛🕷 Arachnids | Ghostxoc - 𝓐/𝓝 ༊·˚ (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1444066290-%E8%9C%98%E8%9B%9B%F0%9F%95%B7-arachnids-ghostxoc-%F0%9D%93%90-%F0%9D%93%9D-%E0%BC%8A%C2%B7%CB%9A?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=AH8832 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐈𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐨. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡... 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧... ⚠️𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ... ✂ 🇬🇺🇳🇸 ✂ 🇧🇴🇲🇧🇸 ✂ 🇰🇳🇮🇻🇪🇸 ✂ 🇹🇴🇷🇹🇺🇷🇪 ✂ 🇸🇼🇪🇦🇷🇮🇳🇬 ✂ 🇰🇮🇩🇳🇦🇵🇵🇮🇳🇬 ✂ 🇩🇪🇸🇨🇷🇮🇵🇹🇮🇴🇳🇸 🇴🇫 🇬🇴🇷🇪 ✂ 🇲🇪🇳🇹🇮🇴🇳🇸 🇴🇫 🇷^🇵🇪, 🇧🇱🇴🇴🇩 ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʳⁱˢᵏ...

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Here's part 3! This one's a little shorter, but I think you'll like it ;) Likes, reblogs, and comments are encouraged and appreciated, so feel free! Enjoy :) Image credit: mr.ghostcos TW: scars

It had been a week of utter silence since giving your phone number to Simon, and you were starting to give up hope. 

The lovely Sunday morning sunlight streamed through your open windows as you worked on the manuscript of your second book in the comfort of your little apartment. Your phone was on your desk right next to your laptop, and you found yourself glancing at it repeatedly, still having an inkling of hope that he would call. Lately, any unknown number that called you would be greeted with exuberance, only for it to deflate when it was not him. You even followed him back on Instagram, but he hadn't accepted your follow request yet, as his account was private. 

Your fingers tapped away on the keyboard unenthusiastically, nearly turning yourself into a factory of sighs. Even your friend Lindsey, the same one who lived in those dangerous streets and knew of how you had been saved, was worried that you wouldn't finish your manuscript in time for the deadline. Your well meaning friend would try to encourage you to move on from him, but it would just make things worse. You still couldn't help but hold on to that hope, because if he and you met a second time just out of pure chance, then that would mean something, right?  And so you stubbornly held on. 

You made things worse for yourself too, and you snatched your phone to stalk his Instagram account and whatever you could see of it. He went by the username “ghostriley”, and his profile picture was his gorgeous black motorcycle. There was his full name “Simon Riley” and his bio was non-existent, except for the Union Jack. 

You mindlessly gazed at this profile, and let your mind wander back to last week when you met him the second time. You couldn't help but replay that moment over and over and over again. 

The way he approached behind the man, and put his gorgeously rugged hand on his shoulder and frightened the wits out of him just with his voice was worth fangirling for, even though he was no celebrity himself. You recognised him immediately, just by looking at his eyes; those same dark, black hole-like eyes. With only a couple glances at the first meeting, you already memorised its shape with how keenly observant you were. 

It was a welcome surprise to see him without his helmet, and to learn that his hair was blond, styled in a low tapered fade that looked freshly cut. Now the only thing that shrouded him in mystery was the mask he wore that had the lower part of a skull printed on it. It made him look a little frightening, but maybe that was the point; it worked well to scare others if needed, along with how tall and broad-shouldered he was. 

Your ringtone blared out loud. You flinched at the sudden noise, nearly making you drop your phone on the floor. But you managed to catch it in time, and upon looking at the screen, it was another unknown number. You rolled your eyes. 

“Hello?” You answered flatly. 

“Hello, am I speaking to ____? This is Simon.” came the familiar gruffness that you recently learnt was a Cockney accent.

You immediately sat up in your chair like you were a jack-in-the-box that had been opened. So unexpected was this call that your heart nearly stopped, and you found yourself opening and closing your mouth, struggling to find the words like you were a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Yes, you got the right person,” You finally answered with a wide grin, feeling your cheeks burn, hoping you weren't sounding too excited. You had to admit to yourself that you secretly missed his voice, which left your ear feeling tingly from the proximity.

“I'm so sorry,” he apologised immediately, his words now tumbling out of his mouth, “I know you asked me to call you, but I had been on a road trip and a hike with my friends, and I didn't have a jot of static in the mountains anywhere to call you. We've been away a week, and I'm finally back.” He paused to sigh and collect his breath, “But I had your novel with me, thankfully, and I read a bit of it,”

You were relieved to hear that he hadn't done this intentionally. “Don't worry about it. How did you like my story?”

“I've only read a couple chapters, but I'm hooked. I'm no reader, but I'll be damned, you're turning me into one.” 

You raised your eyebrows with a smile. “Oh? But didn't you tell me the other day that you were a voracious reader?”

There was a brief silence, and then a very quiet, “Fuck!” Apparently, Simon didn't keep track of his lies, and didn't expect you would remember. 

You giggled triumphantly. “Caught in a lie?” 

He could hear you smirking and he sighed, a little embarrassed. “Caught in a lie.” 

Before you could say anything else, you could hear loud yet muffled music playing on his end. “Kinda noisy there,” You commented. 

“You can hear it?” Simon remarked with surprise. “My friends crashed at my place after our trip. They're…” he paused, looking over his shoulder to look inside his living room from the balcony he was standing on, “They're busy dancing; no idea why. Got endless energy, these lads.”

You chuckled. “Don't you want to join them?” 

“Not my cup of tea, ye ken?” he said. 

“ ‘Ye ken’? What's that?” 

Simon groaned when he realised what he said. “It means ‘you know’ in Scottish. My friend is Scottish, and all his words are rubbing off on me.” 

You had heard snatches of the Scottish accent before, but hearing him say a Scottish phrase in his British accent sounded both funny and endearing. “You two must be close then,” You chuckled. 

“We're practically brothers, he and I. We've known each other for a very long time.” Simon said, trying to sound nonchalant about his long friendship with Johnny, but the brotherly tenderness found an opening to slip out a little.

You could hear the regard Simon had for his friend in his voice, and it made you smile. It gave you the impression that he cared deeply for his friends, and it appeared to you sweet. “Is he the same friend you told me about that day in the cafe?” you asked. 

“Yeah, his name's John. John MacTavish.” 

Just as you were about to answer, you were interrupted by the very subject of your conversation on Simon's end. “Oi mate! Wit ye doing there outside? Cut the call and dance with us!”

Simon groaned and answered Johnny unenthusiastically, “Coming!” He then turned to the call to tell you, “That's John, by the way. And I think I have to go.” 

“I can tell,” You chuckle, “Have fun dancing?” 

“I don't plan on dancing. I'll be reading your novel… hopefully.”

Him saying that gave you a flutter in your chest. “Keep me posted on your thoughts.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, his voice now lowering slightly, as if whispering, “You'll hear from me very soon.”

Something about what he said and the way he said it sent a tingle down your spine strong enough to force the wind out of your lungs. 

Simon, concerned about your momentary silence, asked, “You there?” 

“Yeah! Yeah, I'm here. Sorry, I got a little distracted.” You scrambled to say. Little was an understatement. 

“It's alright,” You could hear him smiling, “I'll be hanging up now.” 

“Sure, I'll talk to you soon.” 

“Oh, before I go, I was wondering…” he paused, hesitatingly running his hand through his undercut. 

“Yes?” 

“Do you want to see the pictures we took on our trip?” he asked, and quickly added with, “Maybe they could help you with writing?” 

“Oh yeah! That would be great. Thanks a lot.” 

“Right then, I'll send them right after this call.” 

“Perfect. So, I'll see you later?” 

“See you later, love. Take care.” 

You could practically hear the gentleness oozing from his voice and you shamelessly wished you could have a recording of those very words so you could hear them over and over. You answered, “You too, Simon. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

You kept your phone down on your dinner table you sat at and sat for a moment in silence. Pushing your laptop aside, you held your face in your hands and squealed like an excited piglet, kicking your legs under your chair. 

“He called! He called!” your thoughts screamed as your entire body went on celebratory mode. The echo of his gruff yet sweet voice reverberated in your mind, and you couldn't help but think of using his voice as the voice of the male lead in your second book.

You held your flushed, burning cheeks in your hands and exhaled heavily. “Oh, calm down, calm down,” You patted your chest where your heart was, as it was throbbing wildly with excitement. 

And then, to make things worse, your notifications went off chiming. It was Simon sending you the photos from the trip, and you immediately took your phone to take a look. He had sent photos of distant mountains, streams, and a couple photos of the backs of his two friends hiking on a beaten trail. 

A particular photo of a row of trees in the forest that shaded the grassy ground was captioned, “This reminded me of your book cover”. You smiled, feeling a little fuzzy that something reminded him of you; not a feeling you were used to. You replied to it:

You: It really does look like the cover! 

As you scrolled down the chat screen to see photos of mountains, flowers, and bugs, which were all beautiful, but the last photo took the cake. It was a candid picture of him walking across an aged stone bridge bathed in the tree filtered light of the evening sun, making his face and clothes speckled with golden yellow. He was looking over his shoulder with a look of surprise in his eyes like he had been called out of the blue. The entire photo was beautiful enough to take your breath away. It was captioned, “Don't mind me. I thought you'd like the bridge. The place is beautiful… would make a good book cover.”

You wrote in reply:

You: you're so right

You paused for a moment, looking at the pictures again. “So this is what the world looks like in his eyes.” 

Mountains, nature, bridges, his two friends, and the reminders of your book were in his field of vision that week. You knew for a fact that people take photos of what they cherish or something interesting, a snippet of time forever frozen into a memory. You felt your cheeks flush again. 

“Maybe…” You found yourself thinking, but you shook your head, telling yourself not to be delusional. 

In the meantime, Simon stood leaning his back on the balustrade of the balcony, staring at your messages of approval for the photos with a relieved smile. 

Author Girl: Thanks for the pictures! They're so beautiful. You guys must've had a lot of fun 

He typed back. 

Simon Riley Biker: We did, it was great 

Simon Riley Biker: I'll text you soon ok? Have to go

Author Girl: okay tc :) 

Simon Riley Biker: you too. Cheers

Author Girl: cheers :) 

Simon shoved his phone back in his pocket, exhaling. The music inside the apartment had died down as his thoughts wandered. He wanted to ask you if you would come on a hike one day, but he didn't want to come off sounding like a serial killer. He was already aware that his size and his voice were intimidating to most. 

But you seemed to be mesmerized by it. 

Simon walked back inside the apartment where his two friends, Johnny and Gaz, were found fallen over each other on his sofa like dominoes, tired from all the dancing. Johnny had fallen on one of the cushions, while Gaz had his head resting on Johnny's thigh, and his legs hoisted up on the arm rest. These two sure were comfortable. 

“Done dancing?” asked Simon, standing over the two. 

“Done talking to your missus?” asked Gaz, who was a handsome, lean, and dark skinned fellow whose real name was Kyle. He was also an Englishman. 

Simon, who was normally unmasked in front of his friends, scrunched his nose in a sneer. “She's not my girlfriend.” 

“That's not what Johnny told me,” smirked Gaz, glancing at Johnny who was already half-asleep, having spent his energy. Johnny grunted sleepily at the mention of his name, and went right back to sleep. 

“Mate, she's not my girlfriend,” insisted Simon, “She's a friend that I happened to save twice by pretending to be her boyfriend.” 

Gaz raised a brow. “A friend? Thought you never wanted any girl friends.” 

That reminder got him thinking. He didn't, really. But maybe he wanted to change that. 

“She's nice,” he admitted quietly, not wanting to come off sounding enthusiastic.

“Go on and steal her heart then, lad!” Gaz exclaimed, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. 

Simon thoughtfully ran a hand over his left cheek, his fingers running over his stubble, but more so over the groove of an old scar that reached from the corner of his lip to his cheekbone, one of the many that told a story of a troubled youth. 

“I doubt she'll want her heart stolen when she sees this,” replied Simon, pointing to the scar as he pushed Johnny's head aside and sat down on the sofa. 

Gaz now sat up. “You're telling me you'll let a scar– a scar, of all things, hinder your chances at finding a girlfriend.” He looked at Simon with raised eyebrows and rested his fist under his chin, looking at his friend like a disappointed parent. “She even gave you her number. That's a massive green light!” he motioned to the novel the novel on the coffee table with his hand exasperatedly, “She's clearly got more balls than you.” 

Simon looked back at Gaz, and a momentary staring match ensued. “What if she's just being friendly?” asked Simon, raising an eyebrow to challenge Gaz. 

“Just shoot your shot, lad,” Gaz shook his head, now growing a little impatient, “Life's too short to worry about being rejected. Don't wanna have regrets now, do we? What if she gets taken by someone else? What you gon’ do then, huh?”

Simon was still unsure but Gaz did have a point. He sighed, relenting, “Fine. I'll try.” 

Gaz smiled proudly. “That's my boy!”

Simon retreated to the bathroom to think. He stood in front of the mirror and stared at his rugged face. While he was only in his late twenties, he easily looked thirty-five thanks to his pale skin, the dark circles under his eyes, his strong cheekbones, and his untrimmed beard; he was a lifeless thing sometimes, and that's why he earned the endearing moniker of 'Ghost' from his friends. The scar on his face stood out like a sore thumb and he rubbed the base of his palm over it, a vain attempt at trying to remove the ugly thing.

He looked at his hand, another rugged thing, calloused more than anything from holding on to knives and people too tight. More scars peeked from under the sleeve of his jumper, numerous and woeful pale lines crossing over each other like scattered toothpicks, all of them staring at him under the intersections of his black tattoos.

His vision blurred as he thought of her smile, that beautiful grin which would crinkle her nose and the corners of her beautiful, shining eyes; she appeared to him the personification of purity and sweetness; that was his deduction of her from their short acquaintance, and he felt like he could not be mistaken.

He could see how she looked at him, stared at him even. He could hear how happy and excited she sounded when he finally called. Practically everything was telling him to respond to her advances without fear.

And yet standing before him was a seemingly insurmountable wall that he erected to keep himself out of the world's notice. His distant eyes focused on the scars on his hand and then at the one on his face. "Would she really want all of this?" His thoughts swirled like cesspools as he continued to stare at himself. He didn't know the first thing about her, and yet his insecurity condemned him, saying that he was no saint compared to her.

Of a truth, he wasn't a saint, but must it hold him back? Gaz and Johnny would beg to differ.

“Just shoot your shot, lad,” his friend's voice echoed in his thoughts.

He murmured, now standing up straight, "I hear you, Gaz."

End of Part 3.

Part 4

[tojisun]

did a goofy gulp seeing this but

biker!simon n biker!konig meet up mhmm

bear with me here but remember the whole social media au? RAHH ok so imagine this yea yea

simon and konig are being the pit against each other—“abc is better than xyz!!” type of posts—until it got to the point that meets and rallies are flooded with the chance of seeing konig and simon (ghost) interact.

naturally they kind of don’t because they have their own social circles, so people assumed that they really would just not interact as they exist outside of each other’s crowds.

UNTIL [screams] a new update from each other’s instagram accounts.

ghostriley and konigofficial

(im foaming at the mouth)

[spartanzayle]

i made ghost from call of duty sing poison from hazbin hotel please follow my tumblr and sub my youtube channel thank you for more characters singing i take requests on what character you want to sing as well make other stuff in their voices also here is my youtube name its known as GhostRiley also my stuff and commissions is made for free for the time being by the way . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heW_vT7Ewpo

[acidgreenfilling]

ghostriley replied to your post: today at training there was this little kid who...

But you’re so cute, Turtle!!

NO,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

[magi-reve]

ghostriley replied to your post: ghostriley replied to your post: So, Naruto is the...

YES. YES I DID.

You're making me re-evaluate my life choices. Goddamn it.

[weirdystar]

ghostriley replied to your photo: Yep, still regretting nothing. Enjoy.

OMG. WHY DO YOU DO THIS. CRY HALP

Because of reasons.

[awkward4lyf]

ghostriley replied to your post: I wonder what it would be like to magically turn...

Did you know that female Hyenas have a penis?

omg yes i could finally use all the penis centric pick up lines and jokes that I know!

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.25 - Homeward Bound

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Kiera is cleared to return home, Simon returning with her.

Eleven Days Later

Kiera was the last to be released from the hospital while Price, Gaz and Soap enjoyed much-needed rest as well as tending to their wounds in the confines and comfort of the local hotel. Simon wheeled her to the lobby in a wheelchair after he had taken his belongings as well as hers to Laswell's car. She had been cleared to go home. 

After being wheeled out of the lobby, she toyed with the fleece blanket Simon had bought her from the local store that would keep her warm from the Chicago air. During her recovery, it was discovered that she had contracted a mild case of pneumonia due to breathing in the cold air during the traumatic event. Due to this, she had been directed to receive oxygen during her flight home. 

Price and the rest of his team were cleared to go home as well, waiting to deploy home after receiving good news of Kiera's departure. Simon wheeled her to the passenger seat of the car, it being the most comfortable seat in the car as Laswell would be driving them to the airport. She clung to his shoulder as he eased her down into the seat, setting the oxygen tank between her knees as it continued to distribute oxygen into her nose. He reached over her, securing her to the seat, "Is that comfortable?" He whispered to her. 

She nodded, "As much as I'll ever be." 

"Good." 

He shut the door, leaving her inside for warmth as he turned to face Price who held a genuine grin on his bearded face. Simon furrowed his brows as he looked down at his hand, a slip of paper between his fingers. 

It was then that Simon realized that Price handed him a plane ticket to Cody, Wyoming. "Here, son." 

Simon shook his head, knowing he was going to go with her anyway, but the fact that Price had taken the time out of his healing process to buy a plane ticket for him was enough to show that the Captain had compassion for the Lieutenant. "You didn't have to, Ca-"

"I wanted to, Simon," He assured him, patting his shoulder. 

Simon nodded, letting the Captain pull him in for a comforting side hug. "Let's get you on your way home." 

Price knew - hell, Soap did as well as Laswell. They all knew as it was rather obvious that Simon was in love. Neither one saw it coming, never seeing him with a woman before, but it was bittersweet to see how compassionate he let himself get when it came to caring for her. 

From comrades to lovers, Soap sighed to himself as he was truly happy for him. 

*

The flight home was exhausting - having a layover in Missouri was enough to drive both her and Simon into a raging fit of a fight for sleep, but Simon held through, wheeling her through the terminal as both duffel bags were secure to his torso, ensuring her comfort before his own. "You're going to be mad, love." He said to her, watching her exhausted eyes look at him. He knew she was tired but was in dire need of a sarcastic comment to shoot back at him. He could feel it. 

Hell, he wanted to poke at her, too - loving her one-liners and sarcastic comments that left a genuine rumble in his chest. 

"Why?" She asked. 

"Your keys aren't in your bag." He said, referring to her truck keys. 

He did his best to hide the smirk toying on his lips as he watched her brow arch and bottom lip pucker slightly, "Guess you've got a long push ahead, huh?" 

"I guess so," He replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Better hold that blanket close to you." 

"Mhm, I know you're screwin' with me. I'm not easy to fool." She retorted, watching how he failed horribly in keeping his smile at bay. 

"We'll see about that." He replied, his voice sounding with serious tone. She began to wonder if he truly was being serious or dragging it out for as long as he could. 

She huffed, rolling her eyes playfully as he chuckled to himself, reaching to his right to grasp her left hand as he had wheeled her to the innermost part of the lobby, sitting between her and the entrance. She watched as he toyed with her fingers like he always did, the familiar warmth of the pad of his thumb rubbing the top of her ring finger. 

As time went on, he continued to toy with her fingers, looking down at the cracks, cuts, and bruises on her hand from both the explosion and the damage Graves had done. He wondered how a hand as small as hers could do as much damage as he had seen during their time on the battlefield, but she wondered the same about him - how his hands could kill a man with one grasp, yet grasp her skin as if she were made of glass. "Do you want to take your medicine now or when you get on the plane?" He asked her.

"Probably when we land, honestly. It's been making me feel like shit and I don't want to throw up everywhere." 

"It's because you've barely eaten, sweetheart." Simon reminded. 

"I'm just... not hungry." She frowned. 

"We'll fix that."

*

Cody, Wyoming

The western air was brutal and cold, Simon rushed as fast as he could to get her to the parking garage where her vehicle that she had left before they took the flight back to the battlefield. Fumbling through his pocket from his pre-landing plan, he looked at the fob for the 'unlock' button, watching the running lights of the Ram truck light up in a glow as he stopped at the passenger side door, opening it for her and carefully hoisting her in. He secured the oxygen tank between her knees and ensured she was buckled. "Can you pull that lever, babe?" She grumbled as it was clear she was getting restless, pointing down to the adjustment lever that reclined her seat back. 

Simon stopped briefly at the sound of the pet name she had called him before doing her request, pulling the lever up as he used his other arm to let her cling to him as her back was sore from the grafts. "Thank you." She mumbled, bringing the blanket closer to her chest. 

"Say that again." He asked, referring to the pet name. 

"Thank you?..." She replied, a smirk toying at her lips, knowing what he was referring to.

But it was her turn to poke at him.

"No, what you said before." 

"Oh!" She nodded. "Can you pull that lever?" She giggled while a laugh prodded in her throat at his reaction. Okay, Kiera, stop teasing him, he looks offended, she thought. "Babe." 

She watched him grin, unaware that the name coming from her throat sounded as sweet as honey - the sound of her voice leaving him to want it more. He leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her caste lips, not giving an absolute fuck that her lips were dry in moisture and her throat dry. He reminded himself that she was real and only for him, unbeknownst to her that the pet name gave him a rush of adrenaline having never been called that before. 

And he liked it.

He shut the door before folding the wheelchair and putting it in the backseat, the sharp wind cutting through the parking garage and rustling his jacket. "Bloody fucking hell," He grumbled, his complaint being heard from inside the cab as well as he slung himself into the driver's seat, his knees colliding with the dashboard and his thighs pressed against the bottom of the steering wheel. "Christ, woman, short stack." He teased. 

"How else do you expect me to drive this thing?" She scoffed. "By standing on the fucking seat?" 

"Might as well!" He poked back, looking at the fob as he wondered how the fuck to start the diesel, but he wasn't about to ask her. "Surprised this thing isn't beat to rubble - not being able to see over the steering wheel." 

"At least I can start it." She poked, taking note of his hesitation. 

"Love, I can drive a tank if I wanted to-"

"-But not a truck." She giggled. 

He sighed, shaking his head, "Should've invited Soap along to join in on the harassment." 

"Hey, you started it, babe," She smirked. "Besides, it would be fun if he was along." 

"Oh, I'm sure." 

She scoffed playfully, pointing to the ignition, "It ain't no different than a regular car, just put the key in and turn it once to let the glow plugs warm up before you start it." She explained. 

He did just that, waiting for her instruction. "Now, the light went off, go ahead and start it." 

The diesel fought for a few moments, Simon being paranoid that he broke it, but kept listening to her as he trusted her judgment...and the fact that it was her vehicle. It rumbled beneath him, his excitement sitting in his stomach as he tried to contain himself. He was just like a kid in a candy store. Rev it... 

He couldn't help it, putting his foot on the throttle to just hear the mighty whistle, once being enough as he didn't want to overstay his permission on driving her truck, knowing she'd take over in a heartbeat regardless of her status. "That out of your system now?" She chuckled. 

He sighed, "Yeah." 

"Can't help it, can you? I don't blame you." 

He breathed a laugh, putting the truck in reverse and cautiously - slowly, even - made his way out of the parking garage that lead onto the main road, stopping at the stop sign and mentally coaching himself and reminding himself on how to drive when not escaping from enemies. "This isn't England, right lane is the right side." She poked. 

"How stupid do you think I am?" He replied. 

"You want me to be honest?" She arched a brow, poking at him. 

He huffed, "Give me that," He said, reaching over the console for her hand. Carefully, of course. "You have to remind me how to get home, love." 

"You'll be on this road for a hot minute." She replied, embracing the warmth of his hand wrapped around her cold fingers, looking over and watching him bring her hand to his lips, keeping them there and rubbing the knuckles closest to the pads of his fingers as well as against his chin, leaning his elbow on the console as he drove. He couldn't get enough of it. 

"Just tell me when to turn." 

"I might." 

He glared at her playfully, "You need to get rest. We don't need to be roaming around." 

"What I need, is my va-"

"I'll throw it out the window." He arched his brow at her. 

She scoffed. 

"I'm serious, that's the last fuckin' thing you need." 

"I've got a stash." 

"Oh, I'll find it." 

She giggled, thoroughly enjoying that she was still fortunate to be going home, especially with him. 

"Have you checked your phone?" 

"No, can you reach in the console and get it for me?" 

He nodded, letting go of her hand briefly to open the center console, fumbling around inside through the AQHA membership card as well as spare change along with pens...and a syringe? 

"It's for cattle, Simon. I'm not shooting up." She giggled, taking notice of his discovery. 

"I was about to say," He chuckled, handing her the iPhone before reaching down to hand her the end of the charger that came from the center console as well. "Don't strain yourself, love." 

"I'm not." She replied, turning on the phone and seeing the usual blast of notifications as she typed her address into the GPS, knowing that Simon would miss the directions as she was sure she'd fall asleep eventually during the drive. She scrolled through her phone to distract her from the aching pain in her back and face, opening her music app to kill the silence that would fall between them, randomly shuffling to Sturgill Simpson's Life Ain't Fair as she deemed it as "fitting." 

"You have a song for everything, huh?" 

"I sure do." She snickered, setting her phone aside before returning her hand to the empty space between his fingers, watching him curl his fingers around hers before the back of her hand returned to being pressed against his chin. 

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.33 - Friends Close, Enemies Closer

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Kiera starts her search for the culprit of the cattle crime.

Bud paced along the field of deceased cattle, his lips pursed and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. Kiera stood alongside him as Frankie and Lawson walked along the corpses of the livestock. "Sir," Lawson said, approaching him with a clasp of what looked like wheat grass. "Found your culprit."

Bud took the grass from Lawson's hand, bringing it up to his nose before slinging it to the ground. "Goddamn clover," He mumbled. "This is a fuckin' crime scene. Kiera, call your brother and get livestock agents out here."

She nodded, removing her phone from the pocket of her bibs. Dennis was considered the black sheep of the family, but he wasn't included nonetheless. He lived off of the ranch with a family of his own as well as ran his own real estate business.

"Cole, you're not a reserve agent anymore, you're on regular duty. You cover this area. I don't even want a fuckin' bird landing on it. Got me?"

"Yes, sir." Cole nodded.

"You, come with me." Bud pointed to his daughter, both Soap and Simon watching as they all shared a look of confusion. What the fuck is happening here?

"Looks like we have another fight on our hands, honey." Bud said lowly, adjusting his hat.

"Do you have any idea who would do this?"

"No," He shook his head. "That's why I need your help."

"I'll get right on it."

"Use my office in the lodge."

Once the sheriff arrived, tension seemed tense between Bud and sheriff Richards, the men glaring at each other as if they had a past conflict. "So, you think this was intentional?"

Bud nodded.

"I don't see any tire tracks. The fence is way over there, so nobody threw it over and it didn't fall out of the fucking sky--"

"That's exactly what it did."

Richards scoffed, "So you think someone flew a plane over here and dropped clover on your cattle in the middle of the night?"

"That's the only thing I can think of," Kiera added, the tension between the three rising, Simon's fingers flexing against the reins in his hands as he stayed on his horse as well as the rest of the team. "Could've been a King Air, which is designed for skydiving and has a side door large enough and could hold the weight."

"Why would anyone do that? Who would do that?" Richards questioned.

"That's what we need to find out."

"Bud, I have no jurisdiction. Cattle is Chris's department. What can I do for you?" He sighed, referring to Chris Farley - the Livestock Commissioner of Wyoming.

"Well, Chris has six four full-time agents and two reserves. He doesn't have the manpower for this investigation. I need your deputies."

"No, I can't spare any deputies," Richards shook his head. "There's more county police guarding the jail than who I have out on patrol."

"You wanna help so bad, then give me deputies or deputize my men, and not in eight weeks - right now, right now in this field."

"Which ones?"

Bud turned and looked at his daughter, "Her, for starters."

Richards scoffed, Simon seeing the borderline disgust Richards had once he laid eyes on her. And he didn't like it. "Isn't she still on duty with her federation?"

"On leave." Kiera corrected.

Richards paused, looking down to the ground at his feet, ignoring the searing pain of his fingers freezing from the harsh wind.

"In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going to start in this valley," Bud said to Richards, patting the sheriff's shoulder. "Today is the day you choose sides."

He sighed, removing his hat and the wind nipping at his semi-bald head, "I'll issue the permit, but she has got to understand that a gun isn't the first thing she reaches for. I know how she is--"

"She's trained to use it."

"Well, now you train her not to use it," Richards scoffed, watching Bud walk to his daughter. "If it comes out of your holster, you better have a sure-as-shit reason to use it, got it?"

"Loud and clear." She sighed, looking over at Simon, embarrassed that the "Christmas Break" had to come to an end. You're about to see why we're all so crazy, babe...

"If she calls dispatch for support, I expect you to give it to her," Bud shouted, his hands on his hips as he watched Richards walk away towards his car. "Did you hear me?" He repeated.

"I heard you, Bud! The whole goddamn valley heard you!"

Bud shook his head, scoffing as he pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lighting it before looking to Kiera, "I know you can find out who did this. Find the evidence. When you do, you drag him by the hair back to me."

"You got it, daddy," Kiera nodded, sighing as she returned to her horse, the split rein clasped between Simon's fingers as he kept her horse still for her. "Guess I'm back to work." She frowned.

"Don't worry. We'll find out who did this, love." He encouraged her.

"I need to make a call."

He furrowed his brows at her, asking who.

*

Simon sat in the guesthouse with the rest of the men, shaking his leg impatiently with both worry and anxiousness as he hadn't seen Kiera since discovering the deceased cattle in the field. A beer bottle clasped between his fingers, leaving all but two sips as it had been hours since he had seen her. What is going to happen? Is someone starting a war with her family? I need to do something.

"What's eating at you, Simon?" Price asked, taking note of Simon's worry by his furrowed brows and sad eyes.

"Never seen nothing like it."

"Nor have I," Price sighed. "She has it under control. You should know that by now."

"It's not her I worry about - I worry about who this person is that intentionally did this."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what's going to be worse: when her father gets a hold of him or when she gets a hold of him."

Price breathed a chuckle, lighting a cigar and offering one to Simon, "She's a walking fit of rage, but I don't think I've ever seen her as angry as I did today."

"I don't know about that, she was spitting fire that night I found her in the prison break," Alejandro added. "I feel sorry for whoever decided to start a war with her."

"It had to have been someone who knew of this place. Aren't cattle worth thousands?"

"Yeah, per head," Simon added with his extended knowledge of raising cattle by overhearing conversations between Kiera and her father. "At least fourteen hundred per cow."

"Fuck," Soap sighed, sipping from his bottle of beer. "Wonder how many there were?"

Simon shrugged, "Frankie and Lawson are counting them." He recalled, remembering how they stayed behind to get an exact number of fallen livestock before herding the bloating heifer they had saved to the barn for recovery.

"Is-Is there anything we should do?"

"I don't know. As much as we shouldn't expect to, have your guns ready just in case."

The desire to go to the lodge and check on her was unraveling within every minute, noting that dusk was approaching. Removing his gifted phone from his pocket, the corner of his mouth curled as he looked at the wallpaper he had figured out how to set - his favorite photo of her he had kept in his uniform breast pocket, glad he was able to set it to where he can look at it every time he looked at his phone.

Finding the 'messages' app, he searched her name, relieved that she had programmed it already for him by putting in her contact information as well as the rest of his team's, knowing he was always eager to keep in contact with his friends--

Family.

Today, 4:18 PM

Simon: Are u in the lodge

The text was simple, yet held so much worry behind his screen as he waited for her to read it, wondering if it would even notify him that she had. He set the phone aside, ensuring the ringer was on before trying to peer his focus on the television that both Price and Gaz had their attention to.

You two are seriously obsessed with that show, he scoffed to himself, forcing him to watch as he knew better than to ask Price to change the channel.

It was "Lizard Lick Towing."

Soap joined in on the watch party, chuckling at Ronnie on the screen. "I like his haircut." He commented, referring to Ronnie's mohawk.

"Of course you do." Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes before they darted to his phone, seeing Kiera had finally replied to him.

Today, 4:47 PM

Kiera: No. On my way back from Cody. Should be home in an hour.

Simon: ok. be careful

Kiera: I'll think about it.

Simon huffed at her response.

Simon: I love you

Kiera: I love you, too. See you soon. :)

*

The sound of Kiera's truck caught Simon's attention from the kitchen of her house, wanting to have dinner at least started for her when she returned. Though Kiera wished the roles were reversed, thinking that she was the one who needed to have dinner ready for him after a long day.

Unbeknownst to her, Simon thoroughly enjoyed cooking for her. Granted, he wasn't the best cook, but it reminded him of how he would cook for his mother when she was sick. It was nostalgic to him as his wandering thoughts sunk back into the depression of finding her deceased from enemy forces, the memory never failing to leave his mind.

He heard her rustling with the doorknob, turning his head to watch her enter the house with a smile on her face. She was wearing a bulletproof vest with a badge hanging around her neck with a laptop clutched under her arm. "Hey," She smiled, the velcro of her vest ripping apart as she removed it along with her badge, setting it on the table as well as the laptop before walking up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and seeking his natural warmth. "You don't have to start dinner, I can-"

"I'm going to," He hummed, placing a delicate kiss to her neck as he was grateful for her return. "Look at you, little miss deputy." He poked.

"I figured I should've been suspicious when this break went on too long," She frowned. "You sure you want to deal with me and this crazy family?"

"Positive. As long as it's with you, the whole world can throw itself at me."

She smiled, leaning her head on his chest as her fingers spread through his hair. "I'm trying to find any leads. So far, nothing."

"You'll figure it out, C.I.A." He encouraged.

"It's one thing if it's terrorism, which I'm used to, but I've never had to deal with something like this before. Someone is wanting to attack this family and it's up to me to stop it."

"Well, I'll be guns-ready if it comes down to it."

"Oh, I know," She chuckled. "I pity whoever it is."

"That's for sure."

*

A loud moan ricocheted from the shower walls as Simon had her pinned against it, her hands bracing against the wet tiles as he had a bruising hold on her hips. Hot water streamed down his back, leaving marks in its wake. Neither had expected to be having a lovemaking session in the shower, but her constant teasing and his eagerness for her touch were too much to ignore. In one powerful thrust, she felt her feet shift against the shower floor, causing her to gasp, "Baby, don't let me fall." She giggled.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere." He smirked, using his body to push her up further against the wall, his lips finding her shoulder and pressing a soft kiss there, his growing beard scratching against her skin.

She reached her arm around his neck, turning her head to kiss him as his thrusting began to subside, his hot breath against her ear before he peppered kisses to the skin behind her ear when his hand reached down to slide down her leg, lifting it up to where her foot rested on the side of the tub, giving him deeper access. She gasped, leaning her head back onto his shoulder as his head cradled hers, their cheeks pressed together.

He listened to her moans, holding back from edging her as he did before, and let her enjoy the release of her orgasm, his soon to follow. The grip on the back of his neck intensified as her rush of ecstasy consumed her as his hand fondled her clit as his massive arm snaked down her torso.

He encouraged her through her orgasm with three delicate kisses to the crook of her neck, "There you go, love. Let go." He encouraged her, his other hand gripping her hip and rubbing soothing circles on the bone, ensuring her that he was there to help tame the wave of arousal.

She panted in overstimulation briefly as Simon's orgasm was soon to follow, his grip tightening on her as the rush subsided.

She relaxed into his touch, the water becoming too hot as the surface of her skin matched with his was beyond intensifying. "At least we're already in the shower to clean up the mess." She giggled, feeling his smirk on her lips at her comment.

"Makes it easier, doesn't it?" He smirked, reaching for the washcloth that was draped over the side of the tub, running his fingers through his wet hair as his body caught all of the water during their intimacy.

He helped wipe away the stickiness between her legs as she held onto him for support, turning the heat of the water down as he helped guide her to the falling water, insisting on washing her hair for her.

"You know something?"

He hummed in response, the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp gently.

"We never started dinner."

"Well, you were desperate to have a shower," He chuckled. "Besides, I'm never against having dessert before dinner."

"I'm surprised we didn't use all of the hot water." She blushed.

His lips pressed against her shoulder, "I mean, give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to have you against the wall again."

"Don't tempt me."

*

"Are you ever going to stop working for the day?" Simon huffed as he made her a plate of fresh food, seeing she was still on her laptop. 

"Eventually," She sighed, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "I just have to make a call." 

"It can't wait for the morning?" 

"Not something like this, babe." 

He sighed, "I'll take your word for it. Just at least eat." 

She nodded as he sat the plate of food next to her, closing the lid to her laptop before beating him to the fridge, getting him a drink before getting her own, a grin on her face as she watched him make his own. She rushed to compile the data she had been needing to search, jotting down quick notes before he joined her at the table, knowing he had been glaring at her. "Thank you," He said, appreciative that she put away her work to have dinner. "Find anything?" 

"No," She sighed, opening her can of Dr. Pepper. "I need names to run through a database and see if I can pinpoint who would've had that plane." 

"It had to have been someone with deliberate intentions." 

"I know. I ran Graves' name to see if he owned a plane. Even though he's dead, it wouldn't surprise me if word got around to take me out." 

Simon gulped.

The table fell quiet as the couple ate, a mischievous chuckle filtering through her nose as she looked up to the ceiling, Simon watching as, out of habit, reached her hand toward her shirt pocket in search of her vape pen. "What is it?" He asked, swallowing his food as he watched her chuckle. "Kiera?" 

"Right under my goddamn nose." 

[acidgreenfilling]

ghostriley replied to your post: ghostriley replied to your post: Turtle, there is...

My dad *sniffle* came down to see us, a-and he made us stay on the base because he got a discount or something..

dang... well, um... at least there are hot guys playing trumpets..??

[acidgreenfilling]

ghostriley replied to your post: Turtle, there is a railroad, an airport, and hot men playing trumpets outside my window PLEASE SHOOT MEEEEE ;A:

I’m on an airforce baaaacee *crying*

qurl what are you even doing there

[acidgreenfilling]

Turtle, there is a railroad, an airport, and hot men playing trumpets outside my window PLEASE SHOOT MEEEEE ;A:

wait what what the fuck what on earth is going on in your neighborhood man