#she took over fake Simone's body

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 10)

"Did you make the water too hot?" Kyle asked as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in fresh clothes after sweating all over yourself and Johnny. His eyes dilated briefly as he took in your softened appearance after the shower, his wings and talons twitching subtly, but he remained still.

"No...? I think... just warm...?" You mumble, shruging quietly.

"Okay, okay, good... can't be turning the water on too hot when you have a fever now, can we?" He rumbles, rounding your smaller body for a bit.

"It's not... it's really not that high of a fever..." You mumble shyly, keeping your eyes anywhere but on the Harpy.

"Nonsense." He croons quietly, his wing gently pushing you forward. "Are you still hungry, baby?"

"N-No..., no, thanks, I'm full...."

Which, you actually were. Sure, you didn't eat barely enough for hybrid standards, but you're human, and you're small... it was enough for you. Besides, John's bean and bacon soup was really good. You're pretty sure you ate even more than usual (even if it was mostly liquid).

"Good. But really, if you need anything, just tell us, yeah?" He smiles with that gentle tone of voice, like he couldn't hurt a fly, and....

Yeah, this guy was weird. Not that you would call Kyle outright fake, but... the wolf in sheep's clothing thing is very real.

You heard how he talks to his mates when you're 'not around'. But with you? It's just those weird, bird-like, cooey noises mixed with his gentle voice.

"Kyle, come 'ere." Simon's gruff tone came from behind you, the Wraith approaching you both with a raised brow and analytical eyes. "What's up with your wings?"

Kyle's face immediatly dropped, eyes squinting in annoyance as he turned to stare at his mate. That gave you the opportunity to see his wings for yourself, and... yeah, they looked a little messy, kinda.

"Nothing, hun. Why do you ask?"

Oh... oh, this sarcastic and sassy tone, accompanied by this fake, sweet smile, was definetly more up to Kyle's alley. So much, in fact, that Simon barely reacted besides a small impavient grunt.

"All unkept. Not like ya, bird." Then, his eyes fall on you, making you tense up a little in attetion. "Sick chick causing you stress?"

"Ugh, Si..." Kyle grumbles, frowning in displeasure. "I'm busy right now, so-"

"No, none of that." The wraith interrupts, walking over to the two of you before easily picking you up on his arms, a small squeak leaving your lips in surprise. "Go take care of them. Some nice an' good preaning, yeah? Call Price to help. Can't have you like this now, can we, bird?"

He drawls his words so slowly and paciently, it makes you think this man really have experience with children. It makes you want to do anything he says too, but this is probably just your feelings since Kyle's expression was pretty much one of displeasure, uncertainty and annoyance.

"The chick-"

"The chick's with me. And she's going to stay with me the whole time. No need to worry. I'll keep 'er safe an' healthy."

You flush slightly as he press your cheek against his, the slight stubble on his cheek scratching against your smooth one. Tho, you do calm down a bit as you feel his cool skin against your warm face.

"Hmm.... it's not worse. Actually, it feels like it has gone down a bit. You can go, Kyle."

It's not the tone, but his words seem almost... harsh. Not that Kyle seemed to mind. He just sighed in defeat with a small nod of his head as he retreated to the bathroom.

You watched as he went, eyes fixed on his wings. It was mostly curiosity that made you want to know more about Harpies, but you can't deny they were so freaking impressive. Big and beautiful wings, a tail that matched the pretty feathers on the wings. The shiny, black talons were just as pretty as they were intimidating.

"His wings are pretty, ain' they?"

You startle a little at Simon's voice, turning to stare at him properly as he carried you through the hallway.

"Harpies pride themselves in having those pretty and polished feathers.... Actually, their lives are their wings, really. They are always making sure they are in perfect state, both in health and in apperance..." He sides eye you carefully before speaking again. "Unless, something more important is taking their time."

"I-important...??" You question immediatly, flustered and surprised. "I... no..."

"Yes, kid. You're important to him. To us. You're our kid now, you know that."

"I'm... I'm just a foster... not really a..." You struggled to say more, not quite brave enough to outright disagree with your foster parent, but not really agreeing with his exaggerated words.

"But you're part of our pack now, kid. Even if you're a foster for now."

You just sigh slightly at his words, seeing this is taking you no where. Maybe that's just how it is with hybrids...

Wait, what did he say?

"W-wha... what do you mean, for no-"

"The point is, Harpies are a very parental species." He says easily, ignoring your small, indignated words as he keeps talking. You, of course, immediatly shut up despite your surprise. "So Kyle can get pretty stressed when there's a new addition to the nest."

He stops to analyze you for a second before ressuming his walk once again.

"Such a small, defenseless little thing too..." He grunts, his buff arms tightening around you a little more. "No wonder it's messin' with everyone's intincts. You're sleepin' in the pack's nest tonight."

Your eyes widen immediatly, caught off guard. Simon has managed to throw you for a loop at least four times since this conversation began.

"Pack's nest...?" You try to question quietly, clearly alarmed, but not wanting to sound disrespectful or rude.

God knows sounding or looking rude to your foster parents never end up in good things. Even your small act of not unpacking your backpack has caused comotion in an old foster house you used to stay at.

"Yes, kid. Pack's nest. Gonna be sleepin' with us, where we can keep an eye on ya and be there if you need help."

"B-because I'm sick...?"

He nods calmly, finally reaching the door to his room and pushing it open for you to look inside. It’s the room closest to yours—the master bedroom. You remember thinking it should have been where your room was. After all, what kind of house puts the children’s bedroom at the very end of the hallway?

Still, their bedroom was stunning. Spacious, with a massive nest carved into the ground at its center. The mattress inside looked both sturdy and soft, layered with neatly arranged blankets and pillows. Unlike your pastel-toned room, it wasn’t bursting with color, but it wasn’t dull either. The decor featured earthy and beige tones mingled with blacks and reds, visible in the furniture.

Very... modern and stylish.

"This is where ya'll sleep."

You nodded a little, brows still slightly furred. Maybe in worry, maybe a bit in fear. You weren't used to all of this.

"Right..., sleep... with you four...?"

"Yeah, kid." He nods, rubbing your back carefully to try and confort you. "What do you take us for? Neglectful parents? To leave our baby away from us when they're sick and weak?"

Okay, now he sounded more offended than calm.

"It's... normal, isn't it...?" You mumble, a little confused. "Otherwise... you could get sick too... sometimes..."

He scoffed at your words, shaking his head.

"Us? Getting sick from a human virus? If our immune system was that weak, we’d have died long ago eating those mystery rations during the Outpost Beta mission."

You raise a brow at his deadpan words, expression pinching in confusion and worry as the silence stretches between you two for a few heavy seconds.

"That was a joke."

"Uhum..." You hummed lightly, expression not changing much.

"What I mean is, we’re not getting sick, don’t worry, kid. And maybe it’s normal in human households to leave their children on their own when they’re sick, but that’s not how we do things here."

You quickly notice faint wisps of shadow curling from his gloved hands and masked face, the white of his eyes darkening to an ominous shade. A literal chill runs down your spine as the temperature around you drops. It makes you freeze in uncertainty in his arms, eyes wide as you stare into those shadowy, unrecognizable eyes.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for him to recompose himself. You’re not sure what triggered this, but he seems to calm down relatively quickly. The shadowy wisps started to dissipate, and his eyes gradually returned to their normal color too.

"Well, come on now. John wants to check on your condition." He says calmly, like he didn't just lose control for a few seconds there, turning to walk all the way back and down the stairs with you still on his arms.

You really should learn more about them. Like, quickly, cuz all these surprises are making you light-headed.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

[stargirlstabber]

missed wedding

featuring. simon riley

cw. angst, hallucinations, character death (already happened)

a/n. sorry, but angst isn't my... speciality. i suck at angst. but this happened to a character of a series i'm watching and i fucking cried. and that doesn't happen often.

you just sat there. you just sat there, letting the comfortable couch in your living room take up your body, hoping it would swallow you as round tears rolled down your cheeks.

you just couldn't stay at your friends wedding. not after what happened at your wedding. your heart ached, knowing you couldn't be there for her on her special day, you really wanted to, really, but it was too overwhelming.

especially when there was no sight of your friend, the bride. maybe she was just too late or lost in her thoughts when she took a little walk before she said 'yes'. but... but what if something was to happen to her? what if another marriage was to be ruined?

emotions crashed down on you, so the decision was made. so you let one of the shuttles they rented for the wedding drive you home safely.

now, at home, your eyes weren't able to hold back all those tears as you gulped down your glass of water, a medicine pill dissolved in it. you let them flow, until you saw him sit in front of you. you saw simon, your husband, sitting there, in his pretty dark suit. the once he was gonna marry you in.

but it never happened.

an accident made it never happen. he didn't even get to see you in your majestic dress. hell, simon didn't even arrive.

the day, which was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, quickly turned into the worst day of your life.

you and everyone else hoped he would make it, the doctors at the hospital were specialists, and after all, he survived worse, right? he was a soldier. he decided to lay his duty behind him, wanting to start a life with you. a life, that was put to an end too soon.

the two days where he was in the clinic were hard, especially for you, but when the machine flatlined and simon left your life, that was pure agony for your heart.

and don't even mention the day he was buried. or the emotions that flooded you once you found out a good friend of yours was gonna say yes to her man. you felt like a wash cloth that was being wrung.

so when he sat right there, only inches away from you with the smile only you got to see, happiness bloomed inside of you.

you got to see him again.

you got to hear him again.

"i'm here, lovie, don't cry..."

you fell into his embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around him as he circled his own arms around you, a hand stroking over your head in a soothing motion.

after the wedding, when your roommate came home, you seemed happy. a smile on your lips. your eyes were still red, but you smiled. and it wasn't a fake smile, it was real. as real as the fact that you were now a widow...

[albertstrustie]

Another Simon/Ghost fanfic piece. Hope you like it. A bit of a long read.

—

Your heels clacked against the cement stairs of the porch, the sound bouncing off into the clear night. You didn’t even wait for the Escalade to stop completely before flinging the door open and storming out. Behind you, Simon didn’t bother turning off the headlights or rolling up the windows—he threw the car into park and dashed after you. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. If you did, who knows what else you’d do.

His footsteps pounded against the ground behind you, matching his labored breathing as you fumbled with the keys at the front door. Your hands trembled—not just with anger but fear. You’d never seen Simon this furious. The sharp scrape of metal finally met the lock, and you twisted it just as his heavy steps reached the porch.

You shoved the door open and bolted inside, slamming it behind you. The solid thud should’ve been a reprieve, but it wasn’t. His broad arm shot through the gap, wedging the door open with infuriating ease. The force jarred you, but you didn’t look back. You were already sprinting up the stairs, your heart racing faster than your feet as his relentless pursuit followed.

The bedroom door slammed shut an instant before his footsteps thundered up the staircase. It burst open just as violently, the wood splintering against the wall. You tried not to flinch. You stayed rooted in front of the dressing table, staring into the mirror as your chest heaved.

There he was, reflected back at you—Ghost. Sweaty, flushed, chest heaving with frustration. The green irises you knew so well were nearly black, like a storm rolling over an open field, swallowing every trace of light. He’d never been in your room before. The sight of him here, invading your most intimate space, felt like a violation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to leave. Not now when he looked like he was about to rip you to shreds.

He rounded the bed in three swift strides, gripping your arm and yanking you around to face him. “What the hell was that?”

You shoved at his face, a desperate, reckless attempt to create space between you. It was bold—perhaps foolish—but anything less would have been futile against his unyielding strength. His grip didn’t waver, though a low, menacing growl rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating through the air like a warning.

For a tense, electric moment, you thought he wouldn’t let go, that his hold on you would tighten until you broke. But then, with a sharp exhale, his grip loosened, and his hands fell to his sides. He took a step back, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he dragged air into his lungs. The distance between you should have felt like a victory, but all you felt was an aching void.

The fight drained from you, leaving behind only exhaustion. Nothing about tonight made sense—not the mission, not Simon, and definitely not the decision you’d made.

That decision being the kiss.

The memory burned hot, searing through you like a brand. Kissing your fake bodyguard in the middle of an undercover operation wasn’t just careless; it was insane. But watching that spoiled socialite touch him—leaning in too close, her ruby, plump lips brushing his ear as she whispered—had been unbearable. And the way Simon smiled back at her, charming and unreadable, made you snap.

Simon? Smiling? Absolutely not.

You didn’t care if it was part of the mission.

You didn’t care that you’d made a scene. All you cared about was erasing that smile and replacing it with something real. And in the moment, the only thing you could think to do was grab his face and kiss him like your life depended on it.

And for a brief, fleeting moment, he kissed you back. But then, it came to an end, just as quickly as it began. So you ran towards the exit, shaken up and utterly mortified.

Now, in the suffocating silence of your bedroom, there was no escape and Simon was a storm barely contained, his body vibrating with restrained anger. But you knew, he wanted that kiss just as much as you did; you could see it right now, the way his chest heaved and his fists clenched at his sides as if to restrain himself from touching you.

His whole body was taut, strung tight like a bow. And the adrenaline coursing through you, made you feel like a live wire, sparking and crackling with need. “Answer me!” he bellowed, his voice thunderous. “Why in the fuck would you—”

Something knocked the sense put of you again and you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him again, pouring every ounce of anger, frustration, and longing into it. There was no hesitation this time. Simon’s hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth claimed yours, hard and hungry.

His lips were hot, insistent, and demanding, a perfect mirror of the fire burning in your chest. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you, and you let him, your hands tangling in his hair as you backed toward the bed. When your knees hit the edge, you fell, but Simon caught himself, landing on his palms above you.

He hovered for a moment, staring down at you, his pupils blown wide and his breath ragged. You thought he might stop—that the realization of what was happening would bring him back to his senses. But then his mouth was on yours again, urgent and consuming, and every coherent thought fled.

You arched into him, your dress riding up your thighs as his weight pressed you into the mattress. His hands roamed over your body, rough and searching, tracing every curve like he was committing you to memory. When his hips ground against yours, the hard line of his cock pressing into your core, you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Simon,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer—not with words, anyway. His mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You tilted your head back, giving him access, your fingers threading through his hair as a low moan escaped your lips.

It was too much, but not nearly enough.

Your legs wrapped around his hips tighter, locking him in place, and your arms clutched him even tighter, anchoring yourself to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from unraveling. You didn’t care about the way his heavy weight pressed you into the mattress, the way his fingers gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise. You didn’t care about the small gasps escaping your lips every time he ground against you, or the burning heat building between your bodies.

You couldn’t care—not when he felt like this.

One of his hands slid from your hip to your chest, his palm sweeping over the curve of your breast. He cupped it through your dress, his thumb brushing over the peak before squeezing. A deep groan tore from his throat as he pulled back, staring at you with an expression that bordered on disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom that this moment was real.

Then, with a feral growl, he grabbed the front of your dress and ripped it open. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room, leaving you breathless and exposed, your lace bra bared to him. Maybe another time you would’ve teased that he could’ve simply pulled down the absurdly expensive dress, but now was definitely not the time.

The sharp sound of the fabric tearing made your heart stutter, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But it wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t regret. It was everything—every emotion you couldn’t name threatening to spill over. Maybe you too couldn’t believe this was happening.

You barely noticed his fingers deftly working at the clasp of your bra, too caught in the way he looked at you, like a starving man about to devour his first ever meal. By the time you realized it, the bra was already unhooked, sliding from your body before being tossed carelessly to the floor.

His mouth found your nipple, sucking hard as his tongue swirled over the sensitive peak. The sharp jolt of pleasure tore through you, and you cried out, your back arching as heat coursed through your veins.

It felt like you were being touched for the first time, as if virginity had been restored and this was your initiation. Every nerve in your body was alive, your skin burning beneath his touch. His tongue scorched, his fingers left electric trails wherever they wandered. You were ablaze, consumed entirely by him.

He shifted to your other breast, dragging his tongue in a slow, teasing stripe along the underside before sucking the other nipple into his mouth. His hands gripped your waist with bruising intensity, anchoring you in place as his hips ground against yours. Words dissolved on your tongue, replaced by gasps and moans that spilled from your lips, raw and unrestrained.

For once, there was no mask, no performance—only you, stripped bare in every sense of the word. It had never been like this before, it’s never been this overwhelming. Your body wasn’t yours anymore; it was his, and in this moment, the world narrowed down to Simon.

One hand slid lower, cupping your pussy, a groan rumbling from his chest. "You're so fucking wet," he muttered against your breast, his voice rough and gravelly.

His fingers pressed against your soaked panties, the damp fabric only amplifying the friction as he rubbed slow circles over your throbbing core. The sensation made you want to cry out and were about to ground yourself against him—but he didn’t give you the chance.

With a sharp pull, he tore away the rest of your ruined fabric of your dress, stripping the first barrier from your skin. The shredded remnants joined the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

His eyes dropped to your panties, a pathetic scrap of lace that barely concealed anything. His breathing stumbled as he grabbed them and ripped them clean off with a swift, brutal tug. The motion lifted your hips off the bed before your back fell against the mattress once more, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

You should have felt exposed, vulnerable—but instead, you were nothing but raw, aching need. Seeing his eyes darken as he took in every inch of you, his gaze hungry and possessive, only made you feel more alive. You couldn’t be happier to be rid of those scraps of fabric, nude and aching beneath him, ready for whatever came next.

A shiver ran down your spine, a chill spreading over your overheated skin as his calloused hands roamed over your bare ass and thighs. He was so strong, his hands so sure and confident. You wondered if this was simply who he was—if he’s always been this commanding, this powerful—or if it was just you, the way your body reacted to him, helpless against the pull.

A small part of you tried to rationalize it, telling yourself it was proximity, nothing more. Working with him, being forced into close contact and moments of manufactured intimacy for the sake of the mission—surely that was why you felt this way. Why your pulse raced at his touch.

But deep down, you knew that was a lie.

This wasn’t just circumstance. From the very first day, when he’d drawled, “Simon Riley” in that thick Mancunian accent, your thighs had clenched, and a heat you couldn’t ignore had bloomed inside you. You’d wondered then—against all reason—what he looked like naked, what it would feel like to have those strong, capable hands on your body.

And now you knew.

Your head was a muddle of lust and want and for a brief moment, a flicker of shame tried to surface. Simon had never seen you like this; he hadn’t even seen you in a bikini—but it vanished the second his mouth descended on you. His tongue slid through your folds, burying itself in your heat, and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

Nothing else mattered. Not the mission, not your pride, not the fact that this was Simon. All that existed was the relentless pleasure, the way his tongue moved against you, the way he made you burn hotter and brighter than you ever thought possible.

You were lost in a haze of ecstasy, your hands gripping his hair and shoulders as if they were the only things tethering you to reality. His mouth worked relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge. When he groaned against your clit, the vibrations shot through your body, making you writhe beneath him.

This wasn’t his first time doing this—you weren’t naive enough to think otherwise—but the thought barely registered amidst the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through you. Any pang of jealousy or anger was drowned out by the sobs of ecstasy spilling from your lips.

His tongue flicked your clit with quick, precise strokes, each one sending a fresh jolt of electricity through your core. Your body bowed, and you gasped as he slid a finger into your tight heat, the sudden fill making your walls flutter around him.

He moved with purpose, his finger curling to find that spot deep inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. His tongue never faltered, his rhythm relentless as he coaxed you higher.

When he added another finger, the stretch was overwhelming, teetering on the edge of too much and not enough all at once. You bucked against him, desperate to take him deeper, to feel more, but he growled—a low warning that sent a thrill through you. His free hand stayed flat against your abdomen, holding you firmly in place.

Your orgasm hit you like a lightning strike. It ripped through you, white-hot and paralysing, leaving your body trembling and your pussy clenching around his fingers. Your cries filled the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you utterly undone.

But he didn’t give you time to recover. Before you could even catch your breath, he had you on all fours, his strong hand wrapping around your hair as he positioned himself behind you.

You felt him line up, the thick head of his cock brushing against your dripping, throbbing cunt. You were desperate for him, aching to feel him stretch you, fill you, bury himself so deeply inside you that there would be no space left between you.

His grip on your untamed curls tightened, his breathing heavy and uneven as he held himself steady. You braced yourself for that blinding pain right before the pleasure you knew only him could probably give you.

But then his grip on you loosened, and his fingers came around to brush against your cheek in the softest, most unexpected caress. The tenderness of the gesture sent a jolt through you, stealing your breath and making your heart clench.

“I... don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice rough but laced with a vulnerability that cut through the haze of desire. It was as though the shame you tried so hard to bury was something he could see, something he couldn’t ignore.

You tipped your forehead into your forearms, overwhelmed by the quiet sincerity in his words and the unspoken emotions behind them. Your heart swelled, the feeling both exhilarating and terrifying, but the ache inside you demanded more.

“Please!” you choked out, slamming your palm onto the mattress in desperation. “Please, Simon. Fuck me. I need you!” Your shoulders shook with sobs, your voice thick with a pathetic need you could no longer hide.

A beat passed—a moment stretched taut with anticipation—and then he drove into you. One powerful thrust and his cock stretched you, filled you so perfectly, so completely, that the breath was punched from your lungs and you jolted forward, burying your face in the pillows.

Your body welcomed him eagerly, your walls clamped around his thick length as they adjusted to the overwhelming fullness. The scream that tore from your throat was muffled by the fluff of the pillows, but it couldn’t drown out his groan as you pushed back and buried him to the hilt.

The pressure was maddening, the fullness dizzying. Rocking back against him, you met his thrusts, your movements frantic and unrestrained. His fingers dug into your hips with bruising force, holding you steady as he matched your pace.

The room was heavy with the scent of sex, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the air alongside the creak and squeak of the bed frame straining beneath you. His chest brushed against your back as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his voice dark and laced with hunger. “Me, fucking you like this?”

Words failed you, dissolving into desperate, incoherent whimpers as his pace increased and his palms kneaded your breasts. His cock pistoned in and out of you, the friction stoking the fire inside you until it consumed everything else. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, driving you mad with the sheer intensity of it all.

Like everything between you two, this felt like a challenge—a battle of wills wrapped in pleasure. You knew it was his competitive streak, the need to make you come faster, harder than before. There was no question he would win, but some part of you still wanted to hold out, to last just a little longer than the first shattering orgasm he pulled from you.

But Simon didn’t make it easy.

He fucked you with a savage, unrelenting intensity, his cock hitting every spongy spot inside you. His hips slammed against your ass, his hands gripping you so firmly it felt like his touch had become a part of you, like there was no line where his skin ended and yours began.

You were a mess—sweaty, writhing, utterly undone by his body. Your walls clenched, squeezing him so tight it bordered on painful. But the sting only added to the pleasure, making you feel like you were coming apart at the seams.

You tried to push back against the inevitable, to delay the explosion building inside you, but it was useless. He was everywhere—in you, around you, overwhelming you with his presence until there was no escape. The pressure inside you reached a breaking point, unbearable yet exquisite, until it finally snapped.

The tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in its force, washing away every shred of control. You cried out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a plea, a desperate, breathless surrender.

In a second, Simon reduced you to nothing more than trembling limbs and shaky breaths, a heap of bone and flesh barely clinging to coherence. If his arm hadn’t wrapped securely around your middle, you would have collapsed into the sheets, maybe even rolled off the bed entirely.

His hold steadied you, grounding you as he continued to thrust into your overstimulated, quivering cunt. Your nails clawed at the sheets beneath you, twisting the fabric in your grip as the waves of ecstasy refused to ebb.

“There you go, baby. That’s it,” he murmured, his voice husky and thick with satisfaction.

Oh, how you wish you could say something snarky right now! But you couldn’t. Not when your legs shook uncontrollably, your heart raced like it might burst, and your lungs burned for air.

All you could focus on was him—the man who had infuriated and fascinated you in equal measure. The man you’d secretly wanted all along, even when you were trading sharp insults and cold glares. Every mission, every conversation, every moment of tension between you had led to this.

To this blinding flash of euphoria that obliterated your vision, to this moment where your mind went completely blank. For a brief, exquisite second, it felt like you’d died and been reborn, baptized in the overwhelming ecstasy that coursed through your veins.

As your vision returned and the last waves of pleasure ebbed, Simon pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. The absence was startling, a void you felt deep in your core. His hands gripped your hips gently, flipping you onto your back as if you weighed nothing.

Before you could figure out what was happening, his lips were on yours, crashing into you with a wild, ferocious passion, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. His hands interlocked with yours above your head and his cock found its home again, sliding into your slick heat as if he’d been moulded just for you.

And if you were being honest with yourself, he probably was made for you.

Because up until now, sex was nothing but something transactional, a means to an end. It had never felt like this. Like the whole world was spinning out of control, and the only thing keeping you from falling apart was his touch, his lips, his body. Like you would die if he stopped kissing you, if his breath stopped caressing your skin.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he pushed into you again. His thrusts were slower this time, deep and measured, as if he was savouring every second. His hands came down to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your damp cheeks softly, revealing a side of Simon you never imagined you’d witness.

But here he was. Here you two were. Naked, unguarded, lost in the depths of something far more dangerous than lust. And you wanted it. You needed it, damn it.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breaths coming in heavy, ragged pants. The space between you all but vanished, and you stared into his eyes, your heart pounding so loudly it echoed in your ears. His gaze pinned you in place—intense as ever, but now tinged with a tenderness that shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been clinging to.

The dam broke, and the tears fell freely.

Simon leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a feather-light kiss that travelled all across your face. The gesture was so gentle, so intentional, it nearly undid you all over again.

His hips faltered, his rhythm stumbling, and then he was gathering you into his arms. He pressed himself tightly against you, his weight grounding you in a way that felt like safety and surrender all at once. His face buried in the crook of your neck, his breaths hot and uneven against your skin.

You clung to him, your bodies entwined so completely that you wondered how you’d ever untangle yourself. Your fingers threaded through his damp tendrils as he began to let go. “Baby…” he grunted, his voice low and strained—a question for permission.

“I’m on the pill,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Do it. Please.”

A guttural groan rumbled through his chest, and his hips snapped into yours, his rhythm quickening with a newfound urgency. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries against his slick skin. He smelled of salt and sweat, musk and wind, a scent that reminded you of the ocean crashing against the shore.

Then, all at once, he shattered. His body stiffened, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he spilled himself, marking you as his. Your name fell from his lips in a broken mantra, each syllable reverberating through your very soul. You realized, in that moment, how beautiful your name sounded when it came from him.

His weight collapsed onto you, his chest rising and falling against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His lips brushed the hollow of your throat in a lingering caress, and you ran your fingers through his hair, pressing your lips to his damp forehead. He nuzzled into your neck, the scratch of his beard sending shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips.

A quiet contentment settled over you, the silence heavy with meaning. There was nothing to say, nothing to explain. You simply lay there, wrapped in each other, your bodies tangled like you belonged this way.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, breaking the stillness.

He groaned, shifting the both of you under the sheets, his strength effortless as he moved. When he slipped out of you in the process, you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the warm, comforting weight of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Don’t be,” he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion and sincerity. “It was the best fuck-up you’ve ever done.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, muffled against his chest. He chuckled softly in return, the vibrations soothing in their intimacy. His hand traced lazy patterns down your spine, anchoring you to him.

“Together,” he murmured, his voice dipping as sleep began to claim him.

You wanted to ask what he meant, but before you could, he repeated it, this time more assured. “We’re together.”

And in those two words, you understood everything.

“Together,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as his warmth enveloped you.

Safe in his arms, you let sleep pull you under, carrying you into a dreamless, contented oblivion.

[yjhariani]

This time, the post is dedicated to @harveywritings92 due to this post being only so long.

Apparently, the only thing that gets me to write nowadays is other people's work.

There was something in his hair when Simon woke up. He could feel them tickling his head.

Simon ran his fingers through his hair and caught pieces of something in his hair. When he pulled them out, he found what looked to be flower petals.

“What the fuck?” Simon breathed.

With a quiet groan, Simon pulled himself into a sitting position by the edge of the bed. Right then he saw something falling from his chest. When he looked down to see what it was, he saw flowers on the floor.

Raising his eyebrows to nonverbally say Are you fucking kidding me? Simon looked around. The other side of the bed was empty, but there were more flowers on the bed.

That was when Simon started calling your name. Once he concluded that he would not be receiving a response, Simon got on his feet and started walking. As he did, flower petals and buds were still falling from him.

Simon called to you again and he did not get a response again.

Have I actually died? Simon thought to himself.

In his opinion, it was fitting. However, the only thing that made Simon doubt that he had died was the fact that he was at peace. He never thought that he would die at peace.

So, one more time, Simon called your name. He practically shouted it out this time.

You were in the living room with your private audio device attached to your ears. You finally heard Simon calling your name. So, you removed whatever it was that had been covering your ears and turned to face the direction of the source of the call.

Simon had just entered the living room. Upon seeing you, he slouched his shoulders that were initially tense for whatever reason.

The two of you were only looking at each other for some time.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Why the hell there’s flowers on our bed?” Simon asked.

A smile popped on your face.

Last night, Simon arrived home after what seemed to be an awful deployment. He looked so exhausted and was acting accordingly. Earlier this morning, he woke up and helped you around your humble abode until he decided that the two of you should have a nap.

When you woke up, you tried waking him up, but Simon told you that he was dead and not sleeping as well as telling you to leave flowers and get out.

Well, you did.

“You told me to,” you said. “I held a funeral, too. It’s surprising that you slept through the whole thing. I took pictures. A lot of ‘em if you wanna see. One of them is my new lockscreen.”

With the scrunching of his eyebrows, Simon could only say, “What?” as he processed what you just told him.

“Here, come see,” you said as you showed your phone.

Simon walked up to you and saw you unlocking your phone. The photo on the screen made him scrunch not only his eyebrows this time but his whole face.

It was Simon, asleep, he looked peaceful even for his standard, and with flowers slipped into his folded hands as well as scattered all around him.

You showed him the latest pictures in your gallery and Simon could not believe what he was seeing. 

There were more pictures alike what he saw on your phone earlier, but that was not it. There were pictures of you in it with black veil draped over your head as you faked crying. There were also pictures of you smiling and joking around all by yourself with Simon’s ‘dead body’.

“You are so banged up, my guy,” you teased. “By the way, I sent some of these to the group chat and everybody wishes you to rest in peace and offers me their condolences.”

The mention of the group chat was the one thing that really woke Simon up.

“You what?” Simon questioned.

“Yeah,” you nodded, knowing that Simon did hear what you said. “Laswell said she’s delivering a bouquet. That’s roughly an hour ago.”

“You’re not serious,” Simon stated.

At the same second, there was a knock on your front door. The two of you skipped towards it and found a person delivering a bouquet of flowers from Kate Laswell.

Once you received the flowers and closed your door, you looked at Simon.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon said, rather impressed, “You should’ve asked for cash.”

You side eyed him, folding in your lips to hold back a laugh.

[myveryownfanfiction]

Rickmas day 22: shivering certainty

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

Tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @deepperplexity, @smilingformoney

warnings: swearing, mention of death, hans fakes his death

A chill went down my spine as I stood next to the get away car. The boys would be piling into the ambulance by now but all time had stopped as I watched someone fall from the top of the building. My eyes were trained on the body, watching as it landed. Shaking, I climbed into the car and started it up. I dialed the phone as I drove, being careful to stay away from police cars and blockades.

“pick up. Pick up dammit.” I muttered as the phone continued to ring. Hanging up in frustration I tried again. “Hans you fucking ass. Pick up the damn phone. Prove to me it isn’t you. Prove it isn’t you who took a dive.” The ringing continued in my ear as I refused to hang up a second time. “Son of a bitch!” I screamed as I pulled over in front of a hotel. It wasn’t the rendezvous point but I needed a second. I slammed the phone down as tears fell down my cheeks. The radio kicked in as I laid my head on the wheel.

“The hostage situation at nakatomi plaza has finally ended. Police confirmed that the man who fell from the 30th floor was in fact the leader of the situation, Hans Gruber. It is reported that he died from injuries sustained in the fall. Also found dead were a large number of terrorists as well as one of the hostages. Another hostage has reportedly gone into premature labor due to stress she experienced throughout the night. One member of the terrorist group was taken into custody in the parking garage.” The reporter said as I lifted my head.

“Theo.” I whispered, fresh tears streaming down my face. Wiping them away with the back of my hand, I threw the car back into drive and took off down the highway. I passed by nakatomi plaza and saw them loading stretchers covered with sheets into the back of an ambulance. I bit my lip to stop from crying again as I continued to the rendezvous point. There wasn’t any point in going there now but if Theo was in custody, I had to grab the go bags. If there were police there I could keep driving until I reached the final point. I sighed as I noticed a large police presence at the motel we’d picked. Theo hadn’t wasted any time talking. Picking up the phone, I dialed the only other number I had memorized.

“Hans?” My breath hitched as Simon answered the phone.

“sorry Simon.” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Hans…uh Hans didn’t…”

“shit.” Simon cursed. “Get to the airfield. We’re taking off as soon as you get here.”

“copy.” I said before hanging up. I floored it and made it to the hanger in record time. Slamming on the breaks, the tires squealed as I stopped next to the plane. I got out and grabbed what I could from the car. “Simon! A little help!” I yelled. Simon appeared in the doorway and ran down to grab the rest of the bags.

“but them in the cabin. They’ll never check there should we get stopped.” I nodded as I climbed into the plane. I tossed the bags into the passenger seat before turning around and freezing.

“hello darling.” Hans said, smiling before taking a drink. I blinked at him. “Miss me?”

“Hans? You…but you…fell…” I stammered. “Thirty stories…” Hans came over and hugged me.

“I know sweetheart. I know.” He pressed a kiss to my head. Simon climbed in as Hans led me to a seat.

“you didn’t tell them?” Simon grumbled as he readied the plane for take off. Hans shrugged with a smirk. “Dumbass.”

“And ruin the surprise?” He teased. “Just get us out of here safely baby brother. We have some catching up to do.” Hans said as he led me to the bed in the back of the plane, kissing my head softly as I tried to wrap my head around everything.

“but you died.” I stuttered, looking at Hans. He kissed me softly before gently pushing me on the bed.

“I know darling. It was a decoy.” He soothed, caging me in with another kiss. “Let me prove it to you.” I nodded as I laid back, letting hans climb on top of me as he proved he survived.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Home Pt.9 - END || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: E Words: 1.8K CW: CANON GHOST BACKSTORY, death, death of a CHILD, house fire, corpses, grief, cemetery, some smut. Tags: you/your pronouns, SOME SMUT, ANGST, HURT NO COMFORT, heartbreak, grief and loss, loss of identity, canon Ghost backstory, UNHAPPY ENDING. a/n: not proofread. THIS IS THE END (it WILL be angst and nothing else... but I'll write a happy ending alternative soon).

[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

Is it macabre to attend your own funeral? Probably.

Nonetheless, Simon Ghost found himself standing near the back of the cemetery, watching on. 

His family wasn’t particularly well-loved in the neighborhood… but when a tragedy like this happens, especially one involving a boy so young as his nephew Joseph… everyone and their mother comes out to pay respects. It’s the “proper thing to do”, they say, even though it’s only out of pity.

However, he has to admit that seeing Oliver, Archie, Jack and Harry, his old mates, come to pay respects, accompanied by their respective families, pulled at his heartstrings a bit. Especially when Archie tapped Oliver in the back while the latter cried.

He’s been here the entire time watching the people come and go, flowers being thrown down into the holes of the Riley family communal grave, and other arrangements being spread all over and around the headstones. Four holes in total. First, ‘Simon’, then his mum Joanna, then Tommy… Then Beth and Joseph in the same one. 

It was close-casket, the bodies too badly burned to allow anything else. The fake Simon has the cheapest coffin he could get, leaving the best for his mum, Tommy and Beth… And he had forced himself to pick a beautiful little white coffin for Joseph. He didn’t even think they made coffins that small. 

Per his request, they lowered Joseph into the hole first, Beth’s larger coffin covering the little boy’s. Just like she was when Ghost found them. Her lifeless body curled over Joseph’s, cradling him tight to keep him safe below her own chest… It was fruitless.

Ghost allows himself to take a deep breath as, finally, the last few people have walked off. The sun is starting to set and people can only pretend to grieve for so long before the cold wind and the darkness makes them go back home. 

In his skull-printed balaclava, black beanie, and black hoodie, Ghost basically blends into the shadows that are starting to take over the cemetery, standing under a tree as his eyes trace the last people walking away from the open graves.

Just days ago Ghost himself was in one of these… buried alive. That’s the night Simon Riley died, he’d say, though, officially, he died in the house fire that took his entire family… A faulty heater during Christmas Eve, you see?

Lost in thought, Ghost doesn’t realize it until now that someone lingered behind. A woman. She moves slowly, tentatively, in the direction of the graves, carrying a couple of bouquets.

More of the same, he thinks… Though he secretly admires the commitment to stay here as the sky is darkening and the air is cooling down.

She places one of the arrangements near the headstones, somewhere amidst the mess of all the other ones…

She flicks on the torch on her phone, to read the names on them… And very gingerly crouches, right in front of ‘his’ grave. She lowers the second bouquet onto it and tosses it carefully on top of the coffin.

Then, she lays her forearms on her knees, letting her hands hang between her legs as she remains crouched in front of his grave. Only to then watch her fold her hands and bring them up to her mouth, to hide the fact she’s crying. He can tell from the way her shoulders rise and fall and and her whole form shakes.

From this distance, he can’t hear her speak, and with the darkness, he can’t see her face.

But he knows.

He knows it’s you.

He watches you fish something out of your pocket and, slowly, toss it down onto the grave too.

He feels his breath being taken away torturously slowly… It feels like someone has grabbed his lungs and forcefully wrung out the air from them like water off a wet rag. 

He’s suffocating.

-

“Merry Christmas!” You cheerfully squealed as you tossed your arms around his neck from behind, strangling him a bit and, shaking him from side to side.

It was freezing outside and you had rushed out in the early morning so you could exchange gifts.

You were twelve, he was thirteen.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, are you tryin’ to kill me?!” He complained playfully as you let go and fake pouted… Then you both broke into laughter.

He tossed a bag of Cadbury mini-eggs at you, which you caught with a giggle. Then, you carefully handed him a little box with a Terry’s chocolate orange in it.

It was all either of you could afford.

“Merry Christmas, you pain in the arse.” He grumbled at you… As if he didn’t have a massive crush on you.

-

You were thirteen, he was fourteen.

“Merry Christmas, Sleepin’ Beauty.” He said it first, as he watched you sneak out the door carefully at 1:30 A.M. You had agreed to meet at midnight but you took your sweet time because you accidentally overslept.

“Shut up, you tosser.” You scoffed as you stopped in front of him, exchanging your gifts.

Terry’s chocolate orange, Cadbury mini-eggs.

“Go back inside, it’s freezin’.” Simon added as he watched you shiver in your pajamas. Poor thing, he thought, as if he hadn’t been here, in the freezing cold, waiting for you for over an hour.

“I will, I will!” You announced dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Riley.” You added as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

Then you turned and rushed back inside. Leaving him outside... but the chill in his bones was long forgotten.

-

You were fourteen, he was fifteen.

The wall clock at your local pub announced it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He told you as he surprised you by dangling the Cadbury mini eggs bag in front of your face.

You leaned up and stole a kiss off his lips, his mouth melting into yours. Your friends around you complained in mock disgust at your PDA.

You pulled away and stuck your tongue out at them, mocking them back, before you turned all your attention to Simon.

You reached into your little shoulder bag and pulled out his chocolate orange, handing it to him. “Merry Christmas.” You told him and smiled sweetly.

-

You were fifteen, he was sixteen.

You were cuddling in the backseat of his dad’s Renault Clio, smoking together.

You had dozed off a couple of times by now, feeling warm and cosy in his arms, as usual.

Simon looked out of the window, enjoying the sight of the empty farm fields, lightly speckled in white snow.

“Darlin’?” Simon called for you and you stirred awake again.

You lifted your head from his chest, ever so slightly, where you had been lulled to sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat. 

“Hm?” You murmured groggily.

“Merry Christmas, lovie.” He whispers as he kisses your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Riley…” You return as you nuzzle up to his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin.

You’d exchange your gifts before he dropped you off at home…

-

You were sixteen, he was seventeen.

It was tight in that backseat, his body no longer fitting lengthwise across the backseat and yours just barely fitting too.

Simon thrusted into you, holding one of your legs over his shoulder, while the other wrapped around his hip. His knees were bent and his head was pressed flush against the smooth roof of the car.

Your moans were loud and almost pornographic, forcing him to have to kiss you to shut you up. But even then, he kept up a hard and unforgiving pace, his hips slamming into yours feverishly.

It all stemmed from the undeniable hunger you felt for one another after three months apart while he was in Basic Training.

He couldn’t get enough of you, the way you looked up at him with those tear-filled eyes, your face red from the heat, your breaths erratic, your forehead dripping with sweat…

“Been… thinking… about this… for so long…” He grunted through the strain of trying to hold back his orgasm.

“Simon!” You moaned, your voice jumpy and high-pitched as he kept the rhythm that was driving you both to the brink of exhaustion.

“Three… bloody… fuckin’... months… without you…” He groaned. “God…” He grunted. “Keep moanin’ for me, darlin’... Show me who you belong to.” He demanded.

And you did. You made sure to make yourself heard, calling his name and whining, desperately so, as he made you both reach your limits.

As you both winded down, your weak legs wrapped around his hip, his head lying on your sweaty breasts, he looked up at you. “I love you.” Simon told you.

Your eyes softened when you looked down at him, his brown eyes seemingly even more beautiful that night than they ever had been. “I love you too.” You told him softly.

He pushed up and kissed you sweetly and, after glancing at the dash clock out of the corner of his eye, he chuckled against your lips.

“Merry Christmas.” He murmured. You probably replied something of the sort as well, though he kissed you back into silence.

You would exchange your gifts soon after.

-

You were seventeen, he was eighteen.

Simon was at the mess, shoulder-to-shoulder with his fellow Corporals, squeezed tight so they could all fit at the table.

His rifle hung around his back, as he lowered his head like an obedient dog while shoveling mashed potatoes and slices of roast turkey into his mouth.

The CO had barked a hurried “Merry Christmas” to the troops before allowing them to dig in.

They hurried to eat. 

Simon was one of the first to stand up and rush his tray to the tray return trolley, and then slap his helmet on.

Then, he dashed out the door to join his platoon in the frontlines, swinging his rifle forward.

There was no Terry’s Chocolate Orange that time…

There was never going to be another one.

-

By the time Simon Ghost finally catches his breath again, you’re pushing back up onto your feet. He imagines you’re about to walk off and leave… But you don’t.

The sun has fully set by now, bathing the cemetery in darkness… And there you are. Still standing. 

Grieving over him.

His chest hurts, his heart squeezing with the realization that you are not taking his death well… Even after 15 years.

He wishes he could go forward… To tell you he’s not actually dead… that he just needed to pretend.

He wants to ask you how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, to tell you how grateful he is that you came, how proud he is that you’re alive and healthy, by the looks of it.

He wants to tell you about his regrets, he wants to apologize, he wants to tell you he wanted to marry you, that he's never loved another woman like he's loved you.

But he doesn’t.

He simply continues to watch you from a distance as you hang around for a long, long time. Longer than anyone else. Hell, longer than Oliver did.

He watches your figure seemingly take a deep breath… And then… you start walking off toward the car park

He’s tempted to follow after you, even if just to watch… just for a moment more.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he walks up quietly toward 'his' grave, spotting what you threw into it easily.

He recognizes the shiny foil of a Terry's Chocolate Orange amidst the flowers without any issue.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before turning and walking away.

There was a time when you found a home in each other's arms...

But that's dead and buried now... Just like the chocolate orange will be.

And that's for the best.

[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

Thank you so much for reading this fic, to the people who've read it here and on AO3! Your support mean the world to me!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Random thought....

Ghost with an emotional support animal. Not a cat, or a dog like you'd expect.

But a big, fat, Flemish giant rabbit named Major Bonsi. Named after the tree she absolutely destroyed when Simon let her free-roam the house. (A recommendation from his therapist to care for something that didn't need too much attention, before she realized it didn't work.) And Major, for... well. He did sort of like that movie "Major Payne". Just don't tell Johnny or he'd make you vanish (not really tho).

At first, Simon was a little annoyed that she ate that plant. He had worked hard to take care of it!

But all she did was lope over to him with her cute, puffy little tail wiggling, her nose twitching as she hopped around his feet before performing what Google said was a "sploot".

Simon scoffed, scooping up the fluffy ball of plant-eating destruction.

"Ay, now there's conditions to you livin' here, ya little ankle-biter." He would say, walking her to an empty room. It was sparsely filled. Some fake turf, little jingly balls, a large water bottle fit for a rabbit the size of a Doberman, and a big hutch she could climb in and out of freely.

"One: you need t' leave any of my plants alone. All your treats are in here.

Two: I hope you don't expect to constantly be kickin' my door at all hours wanting to go outside for a walk. Or whatever rabbits do.

Three: Well..." He scrunches his nose. "We'll figure out the rest of the rules as we go, yeah?"

From how he was carrying her like a baby, all she seemed content to do was bend her body to lick at her own tummy, before her odd-feeling tongue rasped against his scarred knuckles he rested in her fluff, his fingers instinctively curling into the comforting texture.

"There we go. Not so bad when rules are in place, yeah?"

He leaned down, carefully rolling her so she could plop to the floor to explore her new surroundings.

After that, Simon would spoil this fat rabbit like she was a princess. For shits and giggles he got her a bright pink, sparkly collar that said "Queen of The House".

Her harness? Skulls on it. Any little blankets he would get her for snuggle time? Pink. Skulls. Toys aplenty for her stimulation.

He'd put a little doggy door to his bedroom, leaving her door open so she can free roam (the house had been rabbit-proofed after the Bonsi incident, of course). He'd even put stairs to his bed so she could hop up and lay with him.

He'd never admit it, but he loves a good cuddle from her, especially after his night terrors. Bonsi would lay on his chest and lick and nuzzle his chin, her soft and gentle weight spreading out over his torso as his hands instinctively sunk into her plush and soft fur.

He would get women swooning of course, seeing a giant wall of muscle and mystery carrying such a cute round ball of fluff.

Bonsi however, could sense Ghost's irritation and discomfort. Tugging on her leash, she hopped over to one of the women and bit an exposed toe in her sandals.

The rabbit seemed to enjoy the chaos as she decided to make her friend her next victim by thumping her hind legs on her feet, poo'ing little pellets.

Ghost couldn't contain his laughter as she continued to thump her feet on the sidewalk as they fled the ball of adorably-menacing terror.

He scooped up Bonsi in his strong arms, talking softly to her as he continued on his way down the street.

"Good work there, Major Bonsi. Mission accomplished, you've chased out the enemy forces. I'd say a successful mission calls for a treat."

He took her to a local smoothie place, ordered her a nice little salad and watched her eat it while he sipped on some protein-rich drink, smirking as she'd nudge her cherry tomato around, as if saving it for last.

Captain Price would pretend to be appalled that Bonsi was a rank higher than anyone. Even him.

"Just s' long as the little rat don't try to come for my job, we're good." Price joked over a beer once night, earning an indignant thump from Bonsi, as if she understood every word.

Ghost smirked, his golden brown eyes lighting up with... Mirth?

"I'd be careful what you say, Captain. Major Bonsi can be vindictive when she wants to be."

Price leaned in, joking, "Oh, yes. I'm quaking in my boots at the sight of this mighty terror."

While Price made jokes about her as she hopped off somewhere in the house...

Bonsi was busy eating the laces to his boots, snipping them quite short with her little teeth.

Ghost couldn't help but grin as he held her in his arms, "See, Cap? She knows the best way to take out an enemy is to hit em where they don't expect. That's why she's the Major."

Price meanwhile was cursing as he tried to tighten his boots to keep them from falling off his feet on the way home.

[blingblong55]

Epiphany- John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: Hello do you do limbless? If you do would you write for reader who has no arms or legs and Soap and Simon finds her somewhere after she got lost while out (she doesn’t have fake body parts) it’s fine if this makes you uncomfortable but I’ll like to know if you do these types of writings ---- F!Reader, comfort?, fluff?, angst, platonic!relationship ----

A/N: I believe I did some limbless fic some time ago but yes, the answer is yes I do. 

Hello do you do limbless? If you do would you write for reader who has no arms or legs and Soap and Simon finds her somewhere after she got lost while out (she doesn’t have fake body parts) it’s fine if this makes you uncomfortable but I’ll like to know if you do these types of writings

A/N: I believe I did some limbless fic some time ago but yes, the answer is yes I do. 

It was the same old tale for a soldier like you. Losing part of your body for the greater good, but what does that even mean when no one remembers you?

It took months of therapy to get used to not having an arm and half of your right leg, but with so much support, you prevailed and now roam the streets of your town when the home gets too boring. It's also the reason why today, you're out and about. 

However, as good as the day seemed, all went wrong. A loud noise from the busy road workers triggered a deep memory of yours. The noise is all too similar to gunshots, the men yelling reminding you of the hours you spent thinking they'd be the last time you saw the moon. And before you knew it, there you are, sitting on some bench, creeping others away as you hold yourself. 

This wasn't meant to happen. 

Where's home? I need my home. 

Home...home...please...

Where am I?

What is this place?

Shit...I'm far from home. 

"Y/N!" the man says over the bombs. They are closer now. The guns are all out of ammo except yours. The blood and body parts of fallen comrades were scattered all over the grounds. "Y/N!" they keep yelling, knowing you were the last of them to do something. Do something. 

Your helmet falls to the ground as you try and cover the small child that crosses the fire. "Ma'am, I think he's bleeding out!" one of the young soldiers yells over the noise. Your gaze falls on the child. Oh...oh dear god. 

The things bombs and guns can do to a small child. The worry a war brings to those innocent. The memories a soldier takes to their grave. 

As the bombs get closer, the empty cases fall to your side. 

There are things you can never speak about and the child in your arms will be one of them. This isn't something they ever taught you in school. Grief was never part of the training. Death of a soldier was but never of a child. 

You serve the nation, the innocent and those soldiers with you. You would serve and die with them. Never leave a soldier behind, you remember. 

I want to go home. 

"I need to go home. Please.." you whisper as you silently cry. Your limbless self brings all the memories of those days. "Y/N?" Soap's voice stops all the memories. Ghost knew that look in your eyes. "Let's get her out of 'ere," he tells Soap and in some quick motion, you're carried out of the bench. 

You shut your eyes like a child that's in fear. 

"Where am I?" Your voice is soft, but the fear and worry leak through your mouth with these words. 

"You're home, Y/N," Soap whispers. 

Home, what a tragic word it must be to those in war. It'll always be a word you think about right before you reach the tunnel. 

Once in the comfort of the cosy and small place you call home, you hear the whispers of your friends. "Should we call Price?" Soap asks and for a second, you can hear the hesitation I Ghost's voice. "...No, she will be fine. We'll make up some excuse to stay the night here." And that they did. Never leave a soldier behind, they remind themselves. 

When Soap hands you your medication, they see as you drink it down. Within minutes, they can see a glimpse of relief. To many, this small glimpse is nothing but to you, it helps make sense of all the horror you saw. 

It's a sad kind of relief. 

For days, Soap and Ghost always rotated in taking care of you. They made sure to keep the home quiet if needed and never brought up the sad tales you whispered in the night. 

Your restless body looks a the missing parts, wishing that for just one more time, you could use them. That those scars from childhood would be there again, but now they are gone. All you have left is an appointment to be given prosthetic body parts and the two men who swear to care for you until their bodies give up. 

And today, as you woke up from some midday nap, they were sitting there. Arguiig over some game show, the same one they told you was absolute shit. You smile. Maybe after all, all will be fine. 

"Did yer see that! He fuckin' missed it! How do you miss it?!" Soap says as he stands up and with so much anger he walks away. Ghost laughs. " what's s'funny?" you ask with a small smile. "I recorded an old episode of the show and made sure it was one of the episodes where all goes bad," a sly smile on him. You laugh and shake your head. 

Yeah...all will be fine. 

Tags:

@liyanahelena @sampaisleyriot @uniquecroissant

[toasttt11]

your simon

March 25, 2024

Octavia woke up to the sound of familiar sound of rain, she shifted slightly feeling Louie in a little ball laying againt Octavia’s side. Octavia fondly smiled having less alone with having her Louie with her everyday.

Octavia checked her phone seeing it was already past 10:00 am as she didn’t have a morning practice today and her team was given an rest day before the Devils game tomorrow, she knew she did have to get up and start her day as she can finally see her twin after two months and Jack as she’s picking them up after their practice to spend the day and night with them.

Octavia started sitting up and felt her puppy stir slightly, Octavia got up and headed to the bathroom doing her morning routine before heading back into her bedroom and slipping on her slippers and Quinn’s hoodie, she could she Louie wide awake starting towards her as she came out to the bathroom.

“Hi Lou.” Octavia cooed softly giving her child lots of pets and straches, “Do you need to go outside?” Louie barked once making Octavia laugh as she picked him up.

Octavia walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway to her art room. The Art room has a covered balcony and Octavia turned it into a little run for Louie as most mornings in Toronto is raining or snowing and Louie gets cold to fast to try and make him go to the bathroom in the snow.

Octavia set him down on the fake grass, and let him do his business as she stepped inside the art room leaving the door open until Louie was done. She heard a small little bark and looked over seeing Louie patiently sitting at the door waiting to come, “Come in love.” Louie quickly trotted over to her nudging his head at her legs making her smile and pick him up.

They headed down to the hall into the kitchen, she turned her coffee machine on and started brewing her coffee. Octavia scooped dog food setting it into Louie’s bowl making sure the other was filled with water, she set him down letting him have breakfast.

Octavia happily took her first sip of her coffee before dreading to make breakfast but knew she couldn’t just have coffee for breakfast, she quickly make a simple piece of toast and sat on her couch enjoying her piece of toast and coffee before feeling little paws and looked down seeing Louie done with his breakfast and waiting to be picked up, Octavia picked him up and could tell he was cold, Louie quickly dove into the front pocket of her hoodie his whole body easily fitting in the pocket and warming up quickly.

Octavia scrolled her phone drinking her coffee for a while as Louie contently warmed up in her pocket.

Octavia may of ended up sitting there for an hour before reluctantly getting up, Louie still laying in her pocket. She set her mug in the sink before heading back into her bedroom, she quickly changed into grey sweatpants, a white hoodie, and slipped on her black high top converses

She picked Louie up and brought him to her bed laying him down and covering him up completely with the comforter, “I’ll be back soon.” She pressed a kiss to his fluffy head and walked out of her room grabbing her keys and wallet putting it into her pocket, she grabbed her leather jacket that was hanging on the hook by the door putting it on before locking her apartment door and heading out of the building into the parking garage and getting into the car.

She drove the short distance to the Maple Leafs Arena and parking in the garage, she got out of her car and walked through the halls saying her hellos to a lot of the staff as she walked in. Octavia saw the Devils weren’t on the ice meaning they were done with practice and getting cleaned up in the lcoker room.

Octavia only waited a few minutes before Nico and Jack walked out, Jack smiled at this sister walking over to her pulling her into a hug, “Hi Moony.” Jack smiled pulling back from his sister.

“Hi Rowdy.” Octavia smiled slightly nodding at brother, looking at Nico and giving him a fist bump, a lot of the Devils players were alreadly walking out by the time Luke came out.

Luke smiled wildly at the sight is his twin sister, they quickly hugged each other tightly, both relaxing into the hug, “Hey Win.” Luke pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Hi Lucky.” Octavia smiled in the hug holding her twin tightly. They pulled away from the hug reluctantly, and turned to Jack ready to start leaving when a voice called Octavia’s name.

“Octavia?” Simon accent rang out in the hallway when he called out her name, knowing that shade of blonde hair anyway, especially because he knows she’s part of the Maple Leafs.

Octavia quickly turned around at the sound of the accent, “Simon.” Octavia breathed out with a smile forming on her face, she quickly walked over to him as he gently pulled her into a hug, “Hi.” Octavia whispered having knowing she would see him this weekend but didn’t know when.

“Hi.” Simon smiled back as they pulled out of the hug, “It’s been a while.” Simon crookedly grin at the girl he’s had a crush on for years now.

“It has.” Octavia smiled softly, something that she doesn’t do often.

Luke raised an eyebrow at his twin and his teammate trying to figure out how they know evan other, “How do you know each other?” Luke questioned.

Octavia turned her head looking at her twin like he is stupid, “Really?” She gave him a certain a look making his eyes widen looking towards Simon.

“Wait my teammate Simon, is that Simon!” Luke realized looking at his sister.

“He was my friend first.” Octavia sassed back to her twin. Jack and Nico shared a look, having an idea something is between Simon and Octavia.

“That Simon?” Simon mischievously smiled at her, Octavia fondly rolled her eyes feeling her cheeks warm, she pushed him gently with her arm, “Shush you.” Luke smiled at his sister seeing her with the person she hasn’t stop talking about the last four years.

“Wait how do you meet each other?” Jack crossed his arms playing his protective big brother making Octavia roll her eyes at him.

“We played against each other a few years ago in WJC.” Simon explained not telling them how he truthfully met Octavia, Octavia smiled slighty enjoying he kept it to them.

“Alright Louie is waiting for us.” Octavia reminded her brothers, ignoring the red on her cheeks and the pounding of her heart as she stood next to Simon.

“Lou Dog! What are we waiting for.” Jack cheered excitedly always loving that little sausage dog.

“See you on the ice tomorrow?” Simon softly asked her, Octavia nodded with a little smile before starting walking away with her brothers.

“Do not say a word.” Octavia hissed at her two brothers as they started walking away.

“Wait but how didn’t i know that your Simon is my teammate!” Luke whispered over to his twin, trying to figure out how he never knew.

“I thought you knew!” Octavia exclaimed back, “I didn’t know that you didn’t.”

“That’s explains a lot.” Luke slowly nodded thinking about when Simon asked about Octavia and he was confused how Simon knew her.

“Your Simon?” Jack teasingly smirked at his baby sister enjoying all of this.

“No.” Octavia blunted replied rolling her eyes at Jack.

Jack just smirked seeing the slight red on her cheeks and was enjoying his sister actually having something that he could tease her about.

[jedipoodoo]

one and one is two (Hunter and Omega)

Notes: no warnings, fluff, this was meant to be short and sweet but then I made it emotional whoops. Listen along:

"Think she's asleep?" Echo asked, peering at Omega, slumped over in the copilot's seat.

Hunter listened for a moment. "Probably not. Her breathing isn't even enough."

One of Omega's eyelashes twitched, like she was trying to look around without being noticed. Hunter chuckled softly to himself. How could he be mad at her? He treasured these moments spent in the relative peace and calm of hyperspace, where nothing was shooting at them and it didn't matter when or where they landed, so long as they had each other safely onboard. 

Hunter set his knife to the side, "I'm gonna put her in her bunk. Need me to take first watch?"

"As if," Echo said, "You're looking like you need rest more than she does."

Hunter shook his head, gently scooping Omega's body into his arms. Her arms moved a little too slowly to be truly limp, but he still kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep it from flopping around. 

"C'mon ad'ika," He said softly.  He cradled he head to his shoulder, pressing his cheek against her hair

He hummed as he carried her through the ship towards her little room, a song he'd heard a mother sing to her child on the outskirts of a battlefield. He didn't really know the words, but that didn't matter. 

Omega snuggled closer in his arms, curling her fingers into his shirt, and Hunter's heart beat so fast he thought it might explode. He was used to  trusting others. They needed to know that he had their back on the battlefield as much as they had his. But knowing that Omega, someone as innocent and small and unknowing of the world, trusted him like this, was like being handed a butterfly with dewy fresh wings. Any moment, any word or action could completely shatter her, and Hunter didn't think he could handle seeing that kind of betrayal on her sparkling eyes.

He climbed the ladder, carefully balancing with one hand on the rungs and the other supporting Omega. They swayed a bit, and Hunter secured his hold on Omega before grasping for the top of the ladder. He swore Omega giggled.

The chair was the closest thing resembling a bed, but her neck would get sore lying like that. The cushions on the floor meant she could lay pretty much anywhere, anyway. Hunter knelt on the floor, cradling Omega in his arms as he lay her on the floor. He took the blanket, and pale purple with worn yellow stars, from the chair and tucked it around her shoulders, Lula settled beneath her chin.

He looked around, trying to see if there was anything else she needed, but Omega continued to pretend to be asleep.

Hunter sat there, watching her sleep. Watching her chest rise and fall. How did natborn do it? How did they fall asleep every night believing that all would be well with such a miracle when they awoke the next day? Hunter had enhanced skills that allowed him to detect every cough and sniffle, notice every pained twitch and wince, but not even they could catch everything all the time. 

"Hun'er?" Omega asked. Though she'd only been faking, the tiredness in her voice proved she wasn't too far from actually falling asleep.

Hunter lay on the cushions next to her, looking in her eyes, "Yeah, kid?"

"What're you lookin' at?" She mumbled, opening one eye.

Hunter smiled, running his fingers through her bangs to tuck them back behind her ears, "Just you."

Omega giggled sleepily, "You see me all the time, though."

"Yeah, I do," He agreed, "But it's easier to see you when you're asleep. You're not running all over the place causing trouble."

"I don't cause trouble all th' time," Omega insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, you've gotten me out of about as many scrapes as you get yourself into."

Omega was quiet, and Hunter thought that she was finally going to sleep.

"Hun'er?" she asked again.

"Yes, ad'ika?" Hunter was starting to fall asleep himself.

"You knew I wasn't really asleep, right?" Omega asked.

Hunter shrugged, "You're a good actor kid. But not that good."

"Then why didn't you make me go to bed myself?"

Hunter hadn't even considered that an option.

"I dunno," He admitted, "I guess I just love you too much."

Omega's eyes opened.

"You love me?" she asked quietly. Her voice quavered, sending a blaster bolt through Hunter's chest.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean- I didn't-" Hunter sat up, shuffling back towards the ladder. Before he could get any farther, Omega's arms had latched around him. 

"No ones ever told me they loved me before."

Hunter didn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around her tightly as his lungs constricted. He could taste the salt on his tongue before he felt the tears. 

"I love you, Omega," He said earnestly, "I love you, I love you, I love you." he would have said it all night if she let him. 

"I love you too!" She gasped, "I love you Hunter."

Hunter had never felt so loved. Love wasn't explicitly spoken out loud between brothers, it was an unspoken understanding, felt through their actions more than words. But Omega didn't have that understanding, not yet, anyway.

Maybe he should say it more often.

[sea-owl]

Penelope intentionally making yandere colin jealous to try and get him to hurry up with the proposal. The rest of the spouses help out though they all have different ideas of how to make a bridgerton jealous

Penelope trier so hard to make Colin jealous to get that proposal out of him but NOTHING worked.

Simon, Kate, and Sophie all tried to help by giving different suggestions. Some being dancing with different gentlemen at balls, accidentally losing a fake love letter to a fake gentleman, and even pinching herself so hard it looked like a lover placed his mark.

Penelope got nothing for her troubles besides dead bodies. She didn't even want those! If Penelope wanted a dead body she do it herself!

"Stupid man!" Penelope groaned, flopping back onto the couch between Phillip and Michael. Eyes closed, she rested her head against Michael's shoulder.

Over the last couple of years, she had grown closer to the other Bridgerton in-laws and future in-laws. Her closest relationships are probably with Phillip and Michael. Phillip, since they both more on the introverted side, and had a shared desire of learning, even if it was in different subjects. Michael, on the other hand, just seemed to love collecting introverts as his friends.

"Out, out, out!" Penelope heard Kate say, most likely from the doorway. "No, Bridgertons allowed at the Spouses meeting!"

Penelope could hear the eye roll in Anthony's voice. "Half your members aren't even married to a Bridgerton."

He meant herself, Phillip, and Michael. Phillip had just come out of mourning, so that is why he and Eloise have yet to marry. Though they have been corresponding through letters. Michael has also been giving Francesca space after the death of her first husband until she is ready. Penelope herself is working on it.

"They're the closest thing we have," Kate argued back. "Now goodbye!"

With that, Kate closed the drawing room door.

What Penelope had not seen was Colin's eye twitch when he had seen her sitting between two unmarried men who were not related to her. Made even worse when she rested her head against Michael's shoulder. Her eyes closed in a way that signified trust in those two men.

Anthony and Benedict dragged him away.

"They are your sisters' soulmates," Anthony warned him. "You can't kill them like the others."

Colin felt himself growl. Fine then, a new strategy was needed.

He followed her after she left. She darted in and out of her own home. This time in a maid outfit and into a hired hack.

Colin fists clinched. Why did she need to wear a disguise?

Was she going to see a lover?

Penelope's hired hack made its way down Flint Street, stopping in front of a church. It was shaped like a wedding cake.

Colin felt his heart swoop. Over his dead body. If he found out his soulmate was having an affair with one of them, well, his sisters would make do with a slightly broken soulmate.

He watched her, waiting for her to notice him. He watched as she took out a letter and placed it in a pew. Was it a lover letter? Colin decided he would burn it.

Colin took a step closer, and he saw Penelope tense up, her hand slowly moving towards a slit in her skirt that would lead to her pockets.

She turned, and their eyes locked.

Penelope froze. "C-C-Co-"

"That would be Colin," Colin said as he came closer. One hand came up to cradle his tricky nymph's face while the other reached behind her for that wretched letter.

[serafiel-jacobs]

Too much (Fanfic)

New Chapter from my Carlo and Pinocchio AU series 💚

Carlo and Pinocchio rushed to get back to the Hotel, Carlo almost broke the front door by opening it with a great amount of force, Hotel Krat had been attacked and the place was vandalized, they needed to make sure everyone was safe; no one but Sophia was at the lobby and it made sense, no one else but Carlo, Pinocchio, and Gemini could see her, they knew that her power allowed her to project herself somewhere else; Sophia didn’t say where she was, but Carlo already had an idea, he knew that her uncle must have her captive somewhere.

“The others are hiding on the second floor,” Sophia said in her calm voice, she didn’t wasn’t a very expressive person, ever since Carlo had known her she was like that, maybe she was really good at keeping her composure, or maybe she had to force herself to act that way, Carlo knew Simon, he knew how much of a bastard he was even if he always acted nice around him.

Before they could check on them Sophia spoke up again, “Carlo, Pinocchio… they took him”

Both could feel their hearts stop for a second, and then they were angry, furious but they had to go upstairs to check on the others, thankfully no one was injured, but the atmosphere was extremely tense, Pinocchio was next to Antonia’s side, he clearly was worried that she might be hurt due to her condition, even if she keep reassuring him that she was fine he couldn’t accept it, Pinocchio waved and make gestures over and over again, he wanted to ask if anyone was truly not hurt, Carlo and Gemini had to talk in his behalf.

“Pinocchio how about you go upstairs to your room? Just, try to calm down, we can do this, we can rescue Father” Carlo said, Pinocchio began to walk upstairs, everything was overwhelming him.

“I’m sorry my friend, I should have been able to do something, I talk big game, but in reality, I’m just a coward” Venigni felt ashamed of himself, he wished he could have done more.

“It’s not your fault Ven, if it’s someone’s fault it’s mine, it was foolish of me to believe they wouldn’t come here” Antonia was now the one blaming herself.

Carlo spoke up “Alright, no one is to blame here, please let’s just focus on-“

Everyone heard loud footsteps running towards the room, Pinocchio was sobbing loudly, he was hyperventilating, his entire body shaking, engulfed in panic.

“The stalkers, they, um” It was hard for Gemini to say it, the audacity of those people, “trashed his room”

Carlo was even more furious, how dare they? Worse of all he felt betrayed, how could the Red Fox and Black Cat assist in this?

Pinocchio had his drawings in his hands, he showed how they had drawn on top of them, covering their faces with a black pen, calling him a liar, one drawing that he had made of Carlo was completely crossed, with the words “should have stayed dead”

Pinocchio’s face was red, and his crying got even more intense, he grabbed his doll to calm himself but he couldn’t. Pinocchio fell onto the floor he put his hands up to his face and was rocking back and forward.

Everything was overwhelming him, the stalkers took away his father, they hurt his friends and they broke his things, he didn’t understand why, he understand why others would do that; Pinocchio wanted all of this to stop, he wanted it all to be fake, a bad dream, this wasn’t happening.

Carlo was debating what to do, he wasn’t sure if trying to hold him to comfort him would work, maybe he would get even more overwhelmed, but he couldn’t just leave him to cry on the floor. Asking Pinocchio what would make him feel better was out of the question he was in no position to communicate.

“Oh my sweet boy please come over here” Antonia had come to the rescue, lifting her arms to motion Pinocchio to go by her side, Pinocchio ran up to her, he was kneeling as she was sitting in her wheelchair, his head was on her lap; as he cried Antonia would gently play with his hair and give him comforting words.

And so Pinocchio cried in Antonia’s arms, Antonia who he saw as his mother.

———

Everyone else went back downstairs, it was best to give them some space, Carlo was also trying to calm himself, this was unacceptable, Venigni was by his side, he was angry as well, sure he felt helpless at being unable to help but at the end of the day, it was those stalkers fault, and they had no reason to be so cruel to Pinocchio.

“I need to find them, they can’t get away with this, Simon is going to pay for this” When Carlo said that, he felt an intense pain in his head, a sudden migraine, something came to mind, but he could barely remember his memory felt foggy, but he doesn’t like what he is seeing.

He is tied up, he can’t move; why can’t he move? He can feel his body being stiff, if he was already sick and unable to move then why was he tied up?

Carlo remembers the sharp needles, he was being poked and probed. He was treated as a lab rat, as a science experiment

“You know, your father has been looking everywhere for you, he is a moron, he doesn’t even suspect it was me who took you, but don’t worry Carlo, Uncle Simon is here for you”’

He can hear Sophia crying, and Carlo can hear Simon saying… horrible things to her, things an uncle should never tell his niece.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his neck, blood, so much blood, and then… and then he was alive again, Carlo remembers that his father was crying, that he was begging him for forgiveness, for not being there for him, but he was too confused, too angry to hear his father’s words at the time, he attacked him, and his father had to stop him, but before his consciousness faded he heard this father one last time.

“I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him for doing this to you!”

“Carlo? Carlo can you listen to me?!” Carlo realized he had fallen onto his knees, he was hyperventilating and crying, and he realized Venigni was holding him, he managed to snap back to reality but now he had questions.

“How…how did I die?” Carlo sees Venigni look away, and Carlo can see that he knows the truth.

“Please tell me… what happened to me?!” Carlo is sounding desperate, he holds Venigni more tightly.

“You were murdered, he murdered you” Venigni had tears in his eyes, his uncle Venigni, who, unlike Simon, Carlo knew that he actually loved him, wasn’t a fake love for appearances, Venigni truly loved him and wanted to help him.

“Carlo maybe I really am a coward, I talk a big game but in the end, I get paralyzed and can’t do anything, but I want you to know that I will always be there for you”

Carlo just cried in his uncle’s arms.

———

After both had gained their composure it was finally time to go, Pinocchio played the secret key in the piano and both brothers headed towards the secret passageway.

Pinocchio was holding Carlo’s hand, he had his doll in the other, it was clear his distress hadn’t fully gone away, he had become too quiet, completely unable to communicate, and the truth is that Carlo was in the situation, his feeling of being overwhelmed hadn’t fully gone away either.

“Pinocchio, we can do this, we are strong enough to do this” Carlo gave Pinocchio a determined look, his brother looked back at him, now with the same fire of determination in their eyes.

Both of them drew their weapon and stepped forward, ready to take any threats that came their way, whatever they faced, they could take it together.

[walker33961]

- Soap was detonating the bomb under the ground. Helping Price to detonate the other one on the side ….

Makarov and his man came and started firing , Soap got shot and Took cover …..Since he was covering himself as one of the Konni Group members for intel receive.. it was easy for him…

He remembered the lines which Makarov said during the catch in Verdansk..

“ I’ll be seeing you again , MacTavish “

*Soap took a self oath to give his words a great backfire*

“ Ah will git yer fur sure Vladimir “ *soap selftalking *

* noticed a blue eyed konni member , who was quite similar to his figure *

* a plan popped up in him instantly *

*Keeping the gun straight at the members head *

“One wrong move and a bullet in yer head “ *orders him to detonate the bomb *

- The soldier was about to touch the control and Makarov shot him …

….

“ SOAP !! “ *Price screaming while preventing Makarov to shoot *

“ JHONNY !!! “ *Ghost screaming *

….

- The soldier fell on the floor , Soap took his chance and left outside to a safe place …

He felt to go to Laswell’s place for intels , plans and to keep his existence secret ..but it would be risky so he didn’t even contacted from other sources..…

she already got the news .. fake news of Soap is KIA .. she immediately told Lavender about it …she was in another mission….

*Laswell calling Lav *

“ Lavender… ..soap is….“

*the phone fell from her hand *

…..she broke down in call understanding it was the news she feared the most…

- Meanwhile.. Soap had to wait till they cremate the other body … there was a rule that you can’t see the dead body of a soldier if he’s shot in head or throat … Lucky for him to take the chance…. But the pain it caused in them ..specially in Lavender..haunted him ..

He got the news where they’ll wind away the ashes .. he went there and stood at a distance to avoid gaze …

When he saw Price , Gaz, , Lavender and Simon’s faces with immense grief in … he broke a lot by the sight… but he had to do it … for them , for the world .. to save all..

When it was Lav’s turn to pour the ashes ..she was hugging the ceramic for a time ..Soap wanted to go and hug her but he had to stay far ….

As soon as she poured it and shoved the ceramic to Simon’s hands ..she fell unconscious…Price held her right away..

He was about to go and hold her but someone kept a hand in his shoulder which made him look back in shock ..It was Yuri..

“ I understand why you’re hiding in the shadows and faking your own death Sergeant “

“ Yuri …..”

*He hugged Yuri , him hugging Soap back *

“ We can’t be seen till we face Makarov with our plans and Intel ..I have contacts with Watcher and Nikolai from starting through comms “ *Yuri*

“ I’ll send them intel by unknown ID “ *Soap*

* fist bumps each other *

“For our soil , our land *

*looking back at his mates and Lav *

“ Ah will be back tae ye guys in yin pie..i promise “

2 Days later …

*heads to Lavender’s location *

*comes to a distance and positions his binoculars to Lavender’s window *

“What are you doing sergeant ? “ *Yuri*

“ I can’t go near her ..but I can keep a watch over her till i come in front “ *Soap*

*the sight broke both of the boys hearts*

- She was all dead from inside , her love of life , her only hope , wearing Soap’s jacket and clenching it tight with her pale fingers …

Everything got taken away by a single shot ..Soap noticed her swelled up eyes , red knuckles and tear stained cheek … holding his jacket tight ..

He was all teared up …

“ A'm in yin piece..just bade pure tough fur me loue“

*Jhonny left a bunch of Lavenders in front of her door *

- He knocked and ran to a side for a hide .. Lav opens her door to find no one …seeing down ..a bunch of Lavenders tied up softly..Soap was seeing her from a distance..tears slipping from his ocean eyes..she picked it up and went inside …

- He was staying at Yuri’s safe house till they both get the chance of Ending Makarov’s legacy

Next

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.127 - The Thundering

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Simon and Kiera talk about their miscommunication; Baler tells Kiera about his new girlfriend; Kiera and Phil cross paths with a clear warning.

As much as Simon wanted to rush home, he chose to give Kiera as much space he thought she would as well as giving himself as much space as he thought he’d need, although he had come to realize that his time of being isolated was over. He physically ached when he wasn’t around his wife, especially his children.

Hell, he even missed Baler more than he truly thought he would.

Simon eventually returned home around two a.m., sitting on a bench outside the barn and seeming to stare into nothing, his body merely even reacting to the brittle chill that settled throughout the night.

Once he had decided to enter the house, he slipped in with slumped shoulders and a deep sigh leaving his lips. I don’t know what’s scarier: coming home to an empty house and no clue where my family is, or having my own wife hating me for wanting nothing but the best for her, he sighed to himself, hanging his jacket on the rack before ridding his feet of his boots.

He felt as if he literally drug his feet along the wooden floor on the way to their bedroom, desperately wanting to glance into the nursery to check on his children, but forced himself not to out of fear that he would not see them, only hurting his heart even more. Slowly opening the door to their bedroom, he sighed heavily in relief to see Kiera laying on his side of the bed, her arms lazily draped around his favorite pillow as if she was once inhaling his scent before she had eventually fallen asleep, her phone next to her body on the bed as if she were once waiting for him to reach out to her.

Slowly walking around their bed, he slowly lowered himself onto her side of the bed, laying on his side and hesitating before he gently grasped her hip, pulling her towards him while his other arm cradled her head, eventually her head settling into the crook of his arm, relieved that she decided to not only stay, but nestle against him as if nothing ever happened. “Simon?”

“I’m here, love.”

“What did you do?”

He sighed deeply, subtly pulling her closer towards him, noting how her body seemed to relax against him, knowing she couldn’t have faked that if she tried. “We went into town, rolled him up for a little talk…”

“And?”

“Took him to a cliffside to make him tell us what his plans were.”

“What did he end up telling you?”

“He’s planning on increasing the property tax to price people out… Including us.”

“By how much?”

“Our ranch is estimated at 8 million a year in just land taxes alone. I know we couldn’t afford that if it even happened, but when he said that you only had two choices and it was either sell it or lose it, I couldn’t keep asking him questions.”

“So then what?”

“You know, love.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“We let him hang for a few moments. I was going to leave him there, but Soap told me that Dirk and Frankie hoisted him up and cut him loose. He’s probably still wandering around on the Wyoming/Montana border. Where we took him – he won’t have any idea where he’s at.”

“But eventually, he’s going to wander back to civilization and cell service—”

“His phone is gone,” Simon assured her. “And he won’t go to the sheriff because he knows he can’t win that claim. It’s his word against ours.”

“But what if—”

“Kiera,” He spoke softly, keeping her close against him. “Please, just trust me.”

“I never said I didn’t trust you, Simon.”

“You were right – because if you can’t trust me, it’ll tear us apart. That’s the last thing in this world that I want.”

“I don’t want that either.”

“Just know that I did the things I did for you. To protect you and our family. Not to hide or keep secrets. I just feel like as my wife, you shouldn’t feel obligated to do the things you used to do before you had our children,” He whispered, his cheek pressed against her forehead. “I’m not trying to tell you how you should be, but please don’t think that. I just want to be a better man for you.”

His heart fluttered when he felt her arm snug against his torso, “You are a better man, Simon. You always have been. I just don’t want to feel like you’re keeping things from me, even if you think those things are for my own good. We have to work together to make this work.”

“I know, love. It just took you hating me twice to realize that.”

“I never hated you. I hated just the principle.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just still learning how to navigate through this.”

“What do you mean?”

“This life… All I’ve ever known was how to fight or when to fight. To protect the ones I care about and love to the best of my ability before they’re taken away from me just to take me down one piece at a time. Marriage is so bloody hard – I can’t assure you and tell you that it’s a walk in the park, because it’s not. Having children of my own is hard because not only are they going to look up to you, they’re going to look up to me. I don’t want them to think I’m just a bastard father and I certainly don’t want Baler to think that about me—”

“Simon, I understand what you mean. I know it’s hard for you—”

“As a man, I should be the one to provide for my family, to protect them, to give them the best life they can get as well as be their teacher for just how fucked up this world is. All of this is hard and I haven’t had nobody to teach me how to move with it. All I’ve ever known was isolation, pain, sadness, torture, violence… I don’t want my children and you near that.”

“But you’re not that anymore. You know that.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t fully understand it, Kiera. If you would’ve left, I would’ve felt like I was stepping back in time to how I lost—”

“I wasn’t going to leave you, Simon. I was going to give myself some space until I realized that just isolating myself was all the space I needed.”

“A part of me wished you would’ve left because it’s what I deserve, but fuck I’m glad you didn’t,” He breathed. “I don’t care how hard all of this is. I want to do it with you – for you. It’s worth every laugh, every headache, every hurdle that comes our way because I know too well that we’ll have plenty of those. I can’t do this alone, even when I thought being alone for the rest of my life was what was best for me.”

“I refuse to go through this alone.” She whispered, her voice hoarse as it was hard for her to resist tears.

“Then let’s not risk it anymore,” He assured her, pressing a warm kiss against her hairline. “Starting with me – what’s going on. I won’t hesitate to tell you everything I find out. I only hesitated because I didn’t want to worry you—”

“Every bit of this worries me, Simon. I don’t want to lose this place.”

“We won’t, love. I promised your father that I’ll protect this place if it came down to it and that’s what I’m going to do. That’s my responsibility.”

“Did he tell you anything else about it?”

“He told me a lot of things,” He breathed a playful laugh. “He also told me to keep you on a tight leash because he knows that you can reign hell on whatever threat came along.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Because you know he was right.”

*

The next day came along as normal: comforting sunrise, frost on the ground, smoke coming from the chimney at every home in the valley, leaving the comforting smell of firewood blending with the smell of breakfast meat cooking from the kitchen that Kiera had been working on, leaving herself and Kimber being the only beings awake in the house.

“Good morning, Church!” She smiled softly at the Russian Blue cat, whose favorite spot within the entire house was the empty shelf that was originally intended for decorations, but since Church came along, the cat himself titled that shelf has his own perch. “I’ll give you a piece of bacon in a minute. Just a little piece, though, okay?”

The cat only hummed when she caressed him, which was enough of a yes for her as she threw on an extra piece of bacon to split between Kimber and Church.

“Morning, momma.” Baler spoke with a groggy voice, his eyes narrowed as the light from the kitchen was tough to get used to after just waking up.

“Good morning, baby. Why’re you up so early?”

“Um… It’s Friday? I have school?”

“Oh.”

“Did dad come back?”

“He did.”

“He’s… Staying, right?”

“Of course he is. What makes you think that he wouldn’t?”

“Mom, I heard you two fighting yesterday and he just left without telling me where he was going.”

“We just had a disagreement, baby. For a while, we’ve had some miscommunications and it just boiled over. That’s all.”

“Okay. It’s weird that dad isn’t up yet…”

“He’s getting the sleep he needs. I checked on him before I got up.”

“So… Are you taking me to school today?”

“Yes. Simon wanted to stay here with the kids since he was off today.”

“Yeah, that’s right. He told me this week that he was taking off for vacation. I was worried if he didn’t come back home because he promised to take me hunting this weekend.”

“I can assure you, he wouldn’t break his word to you if he promises you something.”

“I hope he knows how excited I am to go hunting in the morning.”

Kiera smiled, turning around briefly to finish making Baler’s plate before presenting it in front of him at the table, “He knows, baby. Do you have your hunting clothes ready?”

“I mean… It’s just basic camo pants and a shirt?”

“Gloves? Thick socks? It’s going to be cold in the morning.”

“Got plenty, momma,” Baler chuckled. “Got my gun ready, too.”

“And you made sure to put it in the case?”

“Yes. Dad gave me an entire crash course on gun safety.”

“Good. Eat your breakfast. I already made your lunch for today—”

“I-I won’t need it.”

“Won’t need it?” Kiera guessed. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been buying my lunch and giving mine to Holly. It’s nothing against you and your cooking, I promise. It’s just that I gave her my lunch one day and she really liked it because she could barely afford her own. She… She really likes your cooking and I figured if she could enjoy it once a day while I could enjoy it anytime, then I guess I’m happy too.”

Kiera couldn’t help but smile warmly at Baler’s explanation, “Who’s Holly?”

“She’s, well, not my girlfriend, but a girl I like.” He shrugged.

“Well, since she likes my cooking so much, how about you invite her over for dinner?”

“I’ll mention it, but I don’t know how her parents will feel about that…”

“Okay, well just talk to her about it,” She nodded. “If she does become something more than a friend, you better make sure you treat her fair and make her happy—”

“Dad already gave me the entire talk,” Baler shook his head, fighting a chuckle. “He also told me that he’d kill me after you got to me first if I broke her heart.”

“As he should,” She giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to his head before walking towards her bedroom, smiling down at Simon as he was laying on his stomach, his bare back exposed to the cool air while the comforter was pushed down towards his hips. She sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating before running her fingers through his messy hair, feeling him stir beneath her touch before he turned his head towards her. “Morning.”

His eyes slowly opened before the corner of his mouth curved into a smirk, “Love. Shocked to see you’re awake before me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” She giggled. “Breakfast is ready. It’s almost time for me to take Baler to school.”

“Want me to go with you?”

“Unlike you, I have work to do today,” She teased. “In case I should remind you, you’re on vacation from today to next Friday, then you have the weekend off then go back to work on Monday.”

“Timed it right, yeah?” He smirked.

“You sure did.”

“What time is it?”

She grunted as she reached for his phone that was on the nightstand, “6:40. I have to leave by at least 7:15 to get him to school on time.”

She watched him smirk before he extended his arm from under the pillow that was once pinned between his forearm and head, wrapping that same forearm around her waist and gently, yet firmly, pulling her against him. “In that case, I’ll skip breakfast for a few more minutes in bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s what microwaves are for, love. Taking the kids to work with you today?” He trailed off.

“Would you rather have them today?” She arched her brow, catching on to his silent plea.

“Maybe I am… Especially when I saw my own daughter spew out her first word. She’ll be singing it like a songbird by the time you get home today.” He breathed into the crook of her neck.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you can have them today. Might keep you busy while Baler and I are gone.”

“I will be, love.”

*

Once Baler had been dropped off at school, Kiera’s head was throbbing with Baler’s choice of morning music. Instead of songs coming from either her playlist or the radio, Baler’s taste in music was *hopefully* going to mature one day.

Because she nor Simon could stand hearing Lil Durk and Morgan Wallen at this point.

Unable to resist the temptation of a morning meal that she didn’t make, as well as fresh coffee that she had no time to make, she found herself parking her truck in the parking lot of her favorite and local diner, eager to have a fresh stack of strawberry banana pancakes. She just hoped Ruby still worked there – the old woman who enjoyed her retirement by still working.

Clutching her jacket over her chest, she entered the diner with excitement as the smell of fresh-cooked food was not helping her craving. “Long time, no see sweetheart!” Ruby smiled, wiping her hands on her apron before warming Kiera with a hug.

“Good morning, Ruby.” She smiled.

“Your usual?”

“There’s no way you still remember!”

“Of course I do! Two strawberry banana pancakes with turkey bacon and one egg. You think I wouldn’t remember that weird combo?” She snickered.

“Fine. You got me. That’s what I want this morning,” She sighed. “Except I want some of that iced coffee you make.”

“Sure thing! Cold foam on the top?”

“Sprinkled with cinnamon sugar,” She smiled. “You know I only come here because of your cooking.”

“Why do you think I stayed?” She laughed. “I’ll have that ready for you in a couple minutes!”

“Thanks! Just call me when it’s ready and I’ll eat at the bar with you. How’s that sound?”

“Good with me! We got a lot to catch up on!”

Kiera playfully rolled her eyes before looking around the diner for a place to sit while she waited on her food. Upon glancing around the many peers who were too enjoying their breakfast, her gaze fell upon a familiar frame with grey hair.

Phillip Jenkins.

Scoffing, she suddenly lost her appetite at the sight of the man himself.

“Morning, Phil,” She sighed, daring to take a seat in front of him at the table. “Surprised to see you eating solid food so soon.”

Phil scoffed, “That cowboy wit… Never gets old.”

“I bet you’re going to miss it. Last meal before you hit the road?” She arched her brow, her tone underlying her impressive sarcasm that only Phillip could understand in his situation.

“Why would I leave? Everyone here in Wyoming is so welcoming…”

“Your focus wasn’t right, but we fixed that. You’re welcome.”

“Ah, there goes that cowboy wit again,” He smirked. “You know, I was going to go to the sheriff, but on the way – once I finally reached a town that could give me a ride – I decided to turn around and go lick my wounds so to speak. I’d hate to see you taken away in handcuffs, Kiera. Where’s the fun in that, huh? I want to see you drug from your own home, send your husband back to England, and your kids be sent to foster care,” He scoffed. “Where’s the fun in you reading about me taking over your ranch from some prison block? I want you on that ranch when I take it.”

“Well, America is known for the land of opportunity, but to pursue an opportunity, that takes bravery.”

Phil was taken aback by her remark, fixating his gaze on his cup of coffee and bringing it to his lips to take a sip before he spoke again, “My acquaintance hasn’t seen you since your father died.”

This statement sent a chill down Kiera’s spine. What acquaintance? Who does he know that knows about my father? “What acquaintance?” She scoffed.

“You may have been able to find out everything you desire on me, Miss C.I.A, but isn’t it a small world that it’s possible that we can know the same people?”

“Try me.”

“Phillip Graves ring a bell?” He hummed, pleased at how he watched her face flush from confidence to fear. “You killed his brother – the cattle killers,” He chuckled devilishly. “You tried to kill him, too, but I’m sure you already know about how he survived.”

“Yeah, it’s clear I need to work on my aim.”

“Unfortunately for you, I made a call to him myself. A Plan B if you want to title it. I’m afraid you’ve made him thirsty for revenge. Don’t make me have to bring him into my fight with you. I’d like to see that fight separately.”

“I love it when men like you try to intimidate me,” She smiled. “It brings light to my soul.”

“It should, sweetheart. He’s been keeping close tabs on you. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep trying to get pregnant…” He arched his brow. How the fuck does he know that? Fuck, I bet it’s because I told Natalie when she and I were having breakfast at the office that day and I told her about my cravings.

She huffed, “I would’ve gone to the sheriff, Phil. You won’t be brought up next time.”

“Yeah? How you figure?”

“Because next time, I’m doing it myself.” 

[casspurrjoybell-24]

The Alpha's Brother - Chapter 3 - Part 1

Book Three In : The Alpha's Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Cypher Ravenscroft

I should have let us stop for sleep because by the time we reached the borders of the lands I was so tired.

I had slept a bit on the drive but nothing that was restful.

As soon as we hit the Autumn Falls pack territory, I could see things moving along us in the woods, wolves, obviously.

I could smell and see them.

I saw Rena's knuckles turn white with nerves as we drove closer and closer to the place Simon called home.

It came to view from over a hill, the gated community and six werewolves, all in human form aside from one sat in front of the gate.

Two more wolves ran from the road, sitting themselves in front of the gates too.

"Just a minute Rena," I said as I opened the door, the chill hit my skin though it was the summer months, it wasn't the heat my body was used to.

"Can we help you, Sir?" the biggest man, in the group said, as I moseyed towards them.

I smiled, shoving my hands into my pockets, making sure my wallet was there.

"Yeah, you can actually. I'm looking for someone named Ellis Davenport."

I took the wallet from my pocket, showing a fake but rather real-looking, FBI badge that I kept on me.

I definitely didn't look like I was in the FBI but they didn't need to know that, it was something that worked every time. 

Ellis Davenport stepped forward, arms crossed and I nudged my head towards the car, knowing he wouldn't go in it and they would most likely hear us but at least it was a bit of privacy.

"What can I help you with?" he asked as we stepped down the pathway.

"I need to get in and meet up with the Alpha of Autumn Falls. It's important."

The man chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at me.

"You want in, do you?"

I nodded and I took the letter out of my pocket and handed it to him.

I watched as he opened it, just like I had hours before.

I didn't want to but it was eating me alive, I promised Simon I wouldn't but sometimes promises were made to be broken.

Beta Ellis Davenport

Ellis. 

I'm so, so sorry for how I left things.

Goodbye was never something I was good at, we both knew it.

I just wish I had more time.

I know you found your mate and I'm so happy for you.

She seems amazing and I know you treat her like a Queen.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you got bonded.

I really wanted to wear that red suit like we always joked about.

Cypher Ravenscroft is harmless.

He is helping me.

He has been helping me these past six years.

I'm sure he pulled out his fake FBI badge.

Just play along.

I love him.

You can trust him, I have trusted him with my life all these years.

Yours truly.

Simon Claymore.

P.S. How's that nose of yours?