#simon seems the type to get things done on the first time

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[callmec0k3]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies...

TW: Sex work, specifically being a sugar baby. Mention of insanity, but it's mostly exaggeration; this one's pretty SFW, but I would proceed with caution because the subject matter is adult. Not Proofread!!

This is the first instalment of something I’ll continue writing about!!! And also my first post!!!! Yipeeee😆😆😆

I’m thinking about one tired, slow, dull day with our favourite 141 boys as they sit around waiting to receive orders and go-tos from higher-ups. They’ve done everything they could to pass the time: Polished and prepared the weaponry, sorted and stored old files, and Simon even got desperate enough to fold, wash and tuck in bedding for the second time. But eventually, they ran out of little distractions and were left waiting for orders that might never come. Bit by bit, it was driving them mad. The first to snap was Gaz, who was already pacing up and down the base like a madman. Out of desperation, he grabbed his laptop that he hid under his bed and opened it. He knew he wasn’t allowed to access electronic devices while at base; frankly, he wasn’t even supposed to have them at all. But Price couldn’t be bothered to chastise his sergeant, as he was equally starting to get desperate for some action too. 

Gaz just started opening tabs, looking for anything to pass the time. He wasn’t sure what his goal was other than to find something that might quell his building insanity. That’s when he saw it. Some sort of…dating website? No, not entirely that. It was filled with livestreams, gorgeous younger men and women just talking. He looked further and found it was some kind of sugar baby service where people could come on and interact with lonely rich fellas with cash to spend. Interesting, but not his thing. He was about to exit the page when he spotted your livestream. You were attractive, no doubt about that, but you also seemed a lot more nervous than the other ‘sugar babies’ on this website acted. Like you were new to all this. Your live stream was just you sitting on your bed with the laptop in front of you, only having a dozen or so viewers at most. Curiosity struck him, and his finger moved to click on your livestream. 

The audio of you talking played out of the speakers on the laptop, making the other three men's heads turn in Gaz’s direction. You spoke softly, careful with your words as you talked about yourself and your day, answering questions now and again. It was intriguing. You had each of their attention with the way you spoke. None of them had spoken to a civilian for months. Outside of the 141, they barely even saw another human being with the way they were stuck there. So hearing your voice felt like singing angels to them, one that came to pull them out of the darkness of their minds. Soap and Simon silently shuffled to where Gaz was and leered behind him, watching you talk over his shoulder. Price continued to sit on his side of the room, but he was still entranced by your voice. Even ordering Gaz to turn up the volume if it got too quiet.

Gaz soon realised that the livestream was nearing its end. You hadn’t earned a lot of money, and you were slowly losing steam. But Gaz was desperate. He needed to hear your voice again. To talk to you, speak to you, interact with you somehow. His fingers moved before his brain did, and he input his card details into the website faster than the speed of sound. You had to pay in order to leave a comment and interact on this kind of website, so he tipped you a healthy sum of cash before typing out the quickest sentence he could to get your attention.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt 4.

prev part. part 1 next part

TW: Drug use, mentioned rape, mention of violence, medic is the worst human on earth

Simon sat down next to Johnny on his bed, holding the Scotsman's hand while giving him a reassuring nod. "We have the whole day time."

"It's complicated."

"I will understand."

"Promise to believe me."

"Promise." Simon didn't know exactly what had happened or how Johnny got this way. He always admired Johnny for his confidence and the way he made everything seem so easy. Seeing his boyfriend like this broke his heart. He knew Johnny would never cheat on you; he loved you, everyone loved you. He remembered that one day Johnny got piss drunk on a mission and a bird approached him. He showed her pictures of you for 10 minutes, telling everyone he had the most beautiful lass on earth. This man wouldn’t cheat, especially not with her, definitely not his type.

Simon thought she had just gone into Johnny's bed at night, removing her clothes and gaslighting him that he cheated. But when Johnny told him everything about the drugs, about the rape, about the way she tried to blackmail him, he felt like he needed to throw up. He was too young to protect his mother from this. He couldn’t do anything when it happened to him. He didn’t know you when it happened to you. But this time, he was going to kill the rapist. "You’re a good man. Don’t let her manipulate you into something you aren’t."

"I feel like shit."

"This won’t go away easy, love."

"I don’t know what to do." And he really didn’t know. Everything seemed and felt so lost. Simon believed him, right? But what if she tells everyone he raped her? It will be over with his military career. After she pulled that stunt you wouldn’t believe him anymore. The look in your eyes almost broke him completely. This was wrong. It went too easy for her like she had done this many times before or had been planning this for years. It was too easy.

"Let me fix it for you, Johnny." He was determined to do this. Through his head already went 1000 ideas on how to kill her. But every way was too easy, too nice for her. Rip her head off. Sell her off to the black market so she will experience first-hand the crimes she did to others. Burn her alive. Many possibilities.

"Don’t kill her, Lieutenant."

"You know she will do it again. Not only to you but to others."

"Do you think she already did this?" Johnny fiddled with his wrist. The bracelet that you bought him to help with his ADHD was gone. It always calmed him. You told him how you searched through whole Etsy to find some gems that should calm him down. He didn’t believe this shit, but it indeed calmed him down since it reminded him of you. And right now, you were the only thing he needed. He needed you to tell him that he isn’t dirty, that he isn’t at fault, that he is a good man.

"Would explain why she was transferred so fast to us from her old unit."

"Fuck." This needed to stop. He couldn’t let that happen to more innocent people.

"Let’s talk to Price, then I’ll take care of her, and after that, we get our girl back." Simon missed you just as much as Johnny did. For a split second, he was afraid that you were mad and disappointed that he didn’t check on you. But that wasn’t the selfless girl he fell in love with. He knew you would understand if you only knew. He could already imagine how you would apologize even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You were different than the medic scum.

"Do you think she’ll take us back?"

"Yes, promise." He placed a small kiss on the shaved part of Johnny's mohawk, a small gesture that the Scot always loved. Simon always knew how to calm him down. With that, they left in the direction of Price's office.

-------------------------------

He woke up with an immense headache and the urge to throw up. John really drank too much the last few days, but this will end now. He will concentrate on you and the job again. You forgave him for lying, at least that was the last thing he remembered before you brought him to his bed. On his bedside table stood a glass of water and one of your self-made brownies with a small note. "Take care of yourself, bear." You always jokingly called him a bear because that was what he was to you. John was the big cuddly bear who always kept you safe.

He knew by the amount of alcohol he drank yesterday, he should probably head to the medical department for some meds. He would never tell anyone, though. He was a hypocrite sometimes, always letting the other hungover soldiers run miles to torture them for being so irresponsible to drink before training. But he could afford the luxury of taking meds against his hangover.

So John went to the medical. He was annoyed when he only saw her there.

"Hello, Captain." She smiled brightly, which made him almost throw up on the spot. There was always a difference between the real, sweet-like-a-cake, like his girl, and the artificial acting sweetness she faked. It was disgusting. "Is there another medic or nurse in here today?"

"No, sorry, Captain."

"I'll go then."

"Come on, Captain, be professional. What do you need?"

"Just something against my hangover." He can be professional and still respect you, right? You won’t be mad he talked to her.

"That was easy. I'll bring you something."

She came back, still with that creepy artificial sweet smile. In her hand was a glass of water with, judging by the displaced white particles, meds. "Just some pain meds against headache and dehydration. Drink up, Captain, and then stay here for 20 minutes for the next med."

John drank it up. After a few minutes of sitting in the chair, he felt his limbs tingle weirdly. This must be one of those side effects of the meds.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Weird name.

"Don’t call me that." He tried to leave, but it felt like his body didn’t do the things he wanted anymore like he was paralyzed.

"I wouldn’t do that, John."

"What was in there?" This can’t be fucking true. This is one of those weird drunk dreams.

"Oh, baby, just some mild paralyzer. Don’t worry, it only lasts three hours, and you can still talk. That’s great, isn’t it? Oh, and Viagra."

Fuck, this is true. This is how she got Johnny. She is fucking sick. "What do you want?"

"You know, I really tried to be nice, but you all only talk about her all the time, so I took matters into my own hands." She said as she slowly sat down on his lap. John tried hard to do anything, but he wasn’t able to move.

"Look, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need us. There is someone who loves you." He tried to be nice, and use his words to come out of this situation, but she already removed his pants. He knew it was over there until he heard the sudden voices of Johnny and Simon. He knew she could never outsmart them, and she knew it too.

"Fuck, fuck," she screamed, gathering the remaining meds and her things. She ran out of the room the second she saw the door open.

"Fucking hell, Captain, you're okay?"

"That fucking cunt drugged me. Get a fucking nurse here." This all didn’t go like Simon's plan. It felt like she was always a step ahead of them.

----------------------------------------

Kyle didn't notice any of the drama going on in medical as he used his time in the gym. Well, more of texting you instead of being productive, until.

"Fucking hell."

------

Tag list: @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

A/N: I know you are waiting for her downfall, it will come promise.

[novemberheart]

{overview} your pack comes back…. it's not a happy ending for everyone though

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly141, cursing, fighting, intimidation, Simon and Kyle both pop off in this chapter, mentions of torture and violence, threatening, protective boy

Chapter 17 <- Chapter 18 -> Chapter 19

Today was the first day you had nothing planned. Just you and your thoughts. You slept in till noon until you decided to get up and make some pancakes. The boys had fully stocked all of your favorite things before they left. You had no business being in the cafeteria without them- Johnny's words, not yours.

It was kinda nice actually. You’re not sure if you've ever had a full day to yourself your whole life. You dragged your desk chair outside on the patio to eat your pancakes. You even made friends with a pigeon. When you went back inside you decided to look up yoga tutorials on TV. Couldn't hurt to be flexible, could it?

It was a new feeling of freedom. You didn't have to worry about any housemate or watch yourself to make sure you weren't a disturbance. You could play music and sing as loud as you wanted. You could learn a new dance. Try a new recipe. Or you could just sleep all day and no one would be able to judge you.

You decided on a bubble bath.

It was that time of night again. Choosing between who's room you wanted to crash in. Your eyes darted back and forth between Kyle and Johnny’s room. Yet there was a tingling sensation at the base of your neck at the thought of John’s room. He never gave you explicit permission and you had never slept in there before.

But he doesn't seem like the type to get mad at you for that. Maybe in two days, your scent will wear off and he won't even notice you slept in it. You were on high alert like a bandit about to be caught. Your knees nearly crumbled as you opened the door to his room. His scent permeated into every surface, your eyes lulling closed. You shook yourself awake, making your way over to his bed. There was a jitteriness about you, the flesh under your skin buzzing. Something wasn't right. It wasn't cozy enough. You huffed back to your room grabbing pillows and an extra blanket, getting to work.

You kept John's pillows against the headboard and added one of yours to the side of the bed against the wall and one on the other side so you would be cocooned in the middle. His blanket and top sheet were pulled tightly against the bed and you tried your hardest to climb in without disrupting them. You folded your blanket and laid it down on the edge of the bed, so your cold feet would have a few extra layers. You held your jellyfish close to you and nuzzled your way under the covers.

Heaven. That was the closest way to describe it. You were quite proud of the nest you had made, well John did help- unknowingly. You gasped softly, your eyes snapping open.

A nest. You had made a nest.

You had only ever done it in your heat and when you did it then you had no materials to work with. You have heard that some omegas nest even when they aren't in heat. Happy ones at least. You grinned curling up on your stomach, your face melted against his pillow.

“You smell that?” John asked, stepping inside. They carefully putting their bags by the door, trying to not alarm you. Johnny groaned from behind him.

“Happy girl,” he commented. The tightness and anxiety his body was storing slowly ebbed away at the smell. He knew that scent. It was extra strong when you were sleeping since you weren't able to hold anything back. He could picture you in his head, curled up against his chest, a sleepy smile on your face with very little awareness of your surroundings. Your soft skin twitching under his rough hands, warm from absorbing his body heat. Your warm peachy scent developing an undertone of cinnamon and spice from his. It sent a shiver up his spine, the hair on his arms standing up.

“Go take a shower. You'll get time with her in the morning.” John yawned. He made his way to your bedroom with the intent to check up on you, only to realize his door was open. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly and he could make out a rather apparent lump on his bed. Although you wouldn't take up that much room. He snuck over a smile etched on his face. Warmth spread through his body at the sight before him. You were comfortable enough to not only sleep in his bed, but make a nest out of it. The overwhelming urge to crawl in there with you made his shoulders twitch.

He quickly made his way out of the bedroom, making his way to Johnny’s bathroom. He didn't want the sound of water to startle you and he couldn't climb into bed with you stinking like he did.

“She nested,” John spoke peeling off his clothes.

“She did? In her bed?”

“No, mine,” John clarified quickly.

“Great, now it's going to smell like horny, pompous alpha in here.” Johnny groaned, scrubbing at his scalp, making room for the broad alpha under the running water.

He picked the clothes out of his closet quietly. It was about time he used his training for good.

“Sweetheart,” he greeted. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of those claws if you got scared. He’s seen the damage they could cause. Your eyes opened harshly, making him wince.

“You’re back?” you couldn't quite believe it. They weren't supposed to be back for another two days. You pushed yourself out of bed, your fingers holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Why are you back? Is everything okay?”

He hummed in assurance.

“We were able to finish up early,” he explained. “Came back as soon as possible.”

The truth was everything was different. They were different. The team had always been “the best of the best”, but with the addition of you, they had turned practically untouchable. It was easier to move, easier to think, and most importantly they had a reason to get home. It might've just been luck, but they knew instinctively there was a change- a natural one. Their bodies transforming into vessels to protect and provide for you. It has been that way forever, consequently why the government has always taken advantage of this evolution. That didn't matter now.

“Is Johnny back?” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Yes. He's tired though, already crashed,” it was a lie, one he was hoping you wouldn't investigate. It wasn't that he wanted to keep Johnny from you, he wanted to keep you from Johnny. He knew the Scot would get you curled up in his arms before John could blink. It was his turn to have you. “Let's get you back to sleep, pretty girl,” John sighed, setting you back down in the bed, and tucking the sheets tight around you once again. He crawled in next to you, his arms wrapping around you trapping you against his chest. You nuzzled your way closer, a now familiar warmth spreading throughout your body. You were safe.

“So happy you're back,” you mumbled, already growing tired again.

“Me too,” he whispered, keeping his lips pressed against your temple.

“Is it okay that I nested here?”

“Course. I'd be happy to leave it if you wanted. I know you like to cuddle with the betas, but I wouldn't mind being worked into that routine,” he chuckled as you smiled against his chest.

You squealed as you were picked up and spun around. Johnny held his grasp on you as he flopped down on the couch, you perched atop of him. You leaned down peppering his face with kisses.

“Thank you for not being gone too long,” you smiled against his cheek.

“Had to get back home to our girl,” he purred, flipping you on the couch so you were under him. His blue eyes were sparking, making you feel a bit nervous. He was inspecting you. “Can I?” he asked softly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Please,” you whispered. He wasted no time connecting the distance. You were a bit unsure what to do. All your kisses with John had been little pecks.

“Relax, hen. Follow my lead,” he murmured, making your lips tickle. You did and once you found your rhythm you didn't want to pull away. Your hands clasped behind his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He chuckled against you, his smile interrupting the kiss. “Knew you’d get addicted,” he smirked.

“You’re right, come back,” you murmured, pulling him back down. He gasped but quickly regained his footing, hoping to keep you occupied long enough for the burning of his cheeks to disappear. He wasn’t used to someone so responsive. Eight times out of ten he had to instigate physical contact, but you were so accepting and matched his effort. You whined as he growled against you, pulling away before it all became too much. He chuckled against you as you panted, kissing across your cheek stopping just below your ear.

“Thought about you a lot you know. It was hard, especially at night. You were alright here by yourself, aye?” he questioned, his eyes softened to a point that it made your breath hitch.

“I was alright, Tavy,” you assured, resting your forehead against each other.

“Peaches, I need to tell you something”-

The door sprung open. The words “I love you” getting caught in his tongue.

“There you boys are,” John was the first to greet them. You shimmied out from under Johnny and he let you, watching as you nearly tackled Kyle to the ground.

The force of it knocked Kyle back into Simon.

You growled as all you got were scent blockers instead of fresh linen.

“I know, lovie, I know,” Kyle soothed. “Fuck,” he groaned, your scent hitting him like a tidal wave.

“Steady yourself,” John chuckled. You wormed yourself away from Kyle and wrapped your arms around Simon. He ran his hands up and down your back and you gave him one last squeeze before pulling away- not wanting to push it. “You’re both good?” John hummed, his hands resting on Kyle's shoulders. Kyle dived in for a hug and John quickly reciprocated, the feeling of finally being home settling in. You figured it was time to allow them some privacy and so you bounded into your room to change out of your sleep clothes.

“Can I talk to you two?” you questioned, closing the patio door behind you. They were having a smoke. Simon hummed in acknowledgment putting the cigarette out so you wouldn't be forced to breathe it it in such a small space.

“Something wrong?” John asked, putting his cigar out as well.

“Not really, but something happened while you two were away and I think you should know about it,” you explained hesitantly. They shared a look, before Simon nodded his head towards the inside. You took the hint as he opened the door for you. It wasn't that you didn't want the betas to know, you just felt that the alphas would want to be the first to know. “I went out with Priya one day”-

“Who’s that?” Simon interjected. John looked over, smacking him with his leg.

“Let ‘er talk,” he directed.

“I met her at that breakfast in the park thing. We have hung out a few times,” it was partially a lie. “Anyways, we were trying to figure out what to do and she said that the hospital had a rec center so we went there.” You paused trying to get a gauge on them. Their faces were like stone. You began losing the confidence you had.

“Go on,” John encouraged, his voice soft.

“Well she left to go to the bathroom quickly, and it was right across the hall. Then this doctor came over and he thought I was a freelance healer so he grabbed me and”-

“Grabbed you?” Simon interjected again.

“Where?” John pressed. You tucked your arm into your sweatshirt, pulling the hem up to show them the bruise on your upper arm. It had faded a decent amount since the incident, but there were still greenish-yellow fingerprints.

“Name,” John commanded.

“I'm not done,” you asserted. They were stiff in their seats now, John was trying his hardest to be level-headed. How many times did they have to prove not to fuck with you? This had been one of the reasons they were so unsure about an omega to begin with. “He grabbed me and put me into a room, with two”-

Simon stood up, heading towards his room to collect one of his balaclavas. He and John couldn't just stay home after this information.

“Simon, keep it together,” John snapped, his eyes still trained on you. He knew nothing too bad could've happened to you. You were fine last night- fuckin’ glowing actually.

“One was an alpha I had never seen before, the other was a beta. The beta that had attacked me by the water fountain.” John’s breath hitched and you could feel Simon stiffen from behind you. “He apologized and begged me not to hurt him,” you nearly chuckled. “I know that you two handled it- obviously, but he was talking about Lieutenant Hale,” you peaked over your shoulder at Simon. He had his back turned to you, his head facing the wall. “He wanted something with me- the beta didn't know what. I'm sure you both know much more than I do, I just wanted to let you know,” you finished.

“Thank you”-

“Thank you?” Simon snapped. “You’re on house arrest,” Simon growled pointing at you.

“What?!” you exclaimed, standing up yourself. “I'm not a child, Simon. You can't do that.”

“Like fuckin’ hell I can't. Until you can learn to not be abducted, attacked, or threatened by bloody strangers you're not leaving this fuckin’ flat,” he snarled.

“John, do something, please,” you begged, turning to John.

“I agree with him.” John sighed. “Not for long but until we figure out strategies to keep you safe,” he reasoned.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you sputtered. “It's not my fault these things are happening,” you shot back.

“No one is saying that”-

“Simon just did! He said and I quote “Until you can learn to not be..” he blames me!” you recalled.

“It's not forever,” John continued, trying to diffuse the situation. “Your incidents happen when you are left completely alone. We just need to make sure you're not”-

“You can't do that. You two have enough control over me as it is!” you spat. “I know it's the destiny of an omega to be under the pack's thumb all the time, but this is ridiculous and I think probably illegal.”

“Now I know it may feel like that at times but we do it to protect you,” John said.

“Not that it's working,” Simon grumbled.

“Fuck you, Simon,” you growled. You couldn't believe the turn of events. Just yesterday you had your hand down your pants thinking about them and today you didn't even want to be in the same room. You wished the betas were here. You wished you never said anything. Simon's deep chuckle made you falter. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, as he raised a hand to his mouth to stop the sudden onslaught. “Are you laughing?” you muttered.

Truth be told he has never enjoyed you more than right now. You, of all people, cursing at him with complete rage. Even now, your face scrunched in confusion and lingering anger, your whole being flushed with a beautiful heated glow.

“Alright, pup. You proved yourself. You're still on house arrest but just till we go on leave. Then hopefully people will have moved on to some new drama by the time we get back.” He sighed, heading towards the front door, John following close behind. Leave was scheduled for three days from now.

“Wait, are we still fighting or not?” you questioned slowly.

“I can keep going,” Simon smirked.

“No,” you replied a bit dumbfounded.

“Did I win? I feel like I won,” you mumbled, the adrenaline slowly wearing off.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, pup. Come on, let's go get dinner.”

“What is happening?” you murmured, beginning your trek to the door.

A knock on his office door caused him to raise his head. He flinched at the sound, harsh against the silent hallway.

“Come in,” he sighed, spinning his chair around to face the door. The door opened slowly and the reveal had him shooting up from his chair.

“Dr. Malcolm?” Kyle clarified. Johnny followed behind him, shutting and locking the door. “Easy, mate,” Kyle soothed his hands extending forward. “Just here to ask a few questions,” Kyle offered a smile, sitting down in one of the other office chairs. “At least I am. That one over there is still a bit worked up,” Kyle chuckled, nodding his head towards the Scot leaning against the door. The glint in his eyes was heart-stopping and Kyle’s relaxed nature only added to the uneasiness in the air. “Now we heard her side of it and we saw what happened on the cameras but I think it’s only fair if we heard your side of it before making any rash decisions,” Kyle explained. “Right, Soap?”

“There’s a lot riding on your answers. That’s for sure, doc,” Johnny spoke.

“He’s right. I imagine it being hard to do your job missin’ a few fingers, yeah?” Kyle hummed. The doctor was leaning against his desk now, knees too weak to do anything else.

“I'm not afraid of you, punks,” Dr. Malcolm managed. Kyle winced.

“Strike one,” Kyle tsked, as Johnny took a few steps forward. Dr. Malcolm quickly held his hands up, shaking his head profusely.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Alright. I made a mistake. We get freelance omegas from holding housing all the time to help with healing. I just assumed she was one of them. Honest mistake,” Dr, Malcolm sputtered, his hand still surrendering.

“That’s interesting,” Kyle sighed, coming to a stand, his broad shoulders blocking most of the light from Dr. Malcolm's frame. “Because to me, an honest mistake would you be askin’ her if she was a freelance omega. Her saying ‘no’. You takin’ that ‘no’ as an answer and going about your day. Not you dragging her down the hallway as she fights against you. Your fingers leaving bruises on our girl's arm,” Kyle finished. “You get that, right?”

The reasons behind why they wanted to take his fingers becoming more and more clear to Dr. Malcolm.

“You’re right. Completely and utterly right. I'm ashamed of myself, honestly,” Dr. Malcolm appeased. “I can transfer,” he offered. Kyle’s eyes widened a smile spreading across his face.

“That's a brilliant idea,” he praised, making the doctor's shoulders begin to relax. “But that's unfortunately not going to work for us,” Kyle became tight lip, a disgustingly fake sorrowful look on his face. “You see if we just let you go, then that's sends a message, that anyone can just come in and make our omega feel unsafe”-

“I didn't know she was yours!” Dr. Malcom nearly sobbed.

“Well, we’ll just call that strike number two then,” Kyle cleared his throat. “Now you know. And when you walk out of this office, everyone in the building will know too,” Kyke smiled.

“Gonna be missing a few pieces, though,” Johnny grunted, heading towards the doctor. The doctor's shout was quickly cut off by Johnny’s hand.

“Not to worry, mate. Sure you can find someone to attach them back,” Kyle smirked.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It has honestly been my favorite to write…..what does that say about me….Anyways Love all of you! Thank you for your support and interacting with this post! 🧡

P.S. See you in three days for chapter 19!

[empresskylo]

ghost seemed to despise you, making a mission you have to do together much tenser than it ever had to be...

a/n: i feel like this isn't great but i had fun writing it. idk.

cw: none i guess

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlist

The cold wind blew through your hair making you tighten your coat around your torso. You rolled your eyes as you walked silently beside Ghost. Of course, he wasn’t talking to you. But he was being more quiet than usual. 

You were new and had managed to get him to speak to you the first few weeks, basic training, and small banter as you talked to the task force on the comms. You thought he even liked you at that point. The way he would gaze at you gave you goosebumps. 

Then suddenly, Ghost began to ignore you. You knew you were not skilled physically. You weren’t really ‘one of the guys’. You were their tech nerd who had been trained to work in intensive situations. You felt like a black sheep among wolves. 

Maybe that’s why Ghost didn’t like you very much. You were just extra weight. You couldn’t always protect yourself the way the others could. You often put the men at risk when they would shield you from danger you couldn’t fight off yourself. 

Soap had to remind you that you were crucial to the team. You were the only one with engineering abilities—and pretty impressive ones at that. But still, it seemed like Ghost was repulsed by you and your helplessness. He made sure you weren’t on his team during missions. He’d look the other way when you’d catch his eye in the halls. He’d yell at you when you fell behind. He’d glare at you while you trained. He’d contest your appearance on more dangerous missions. It was tiring watching him act normal—whatever that means—around everyone else. 

You muttered a few things to Ghost, trying to get him to talk, awkwardly fumbling your words. As usual, he didn’t acknowledge you. 

“Well, this is fun. I just love talking to myself,” you groaned as you matched Ghost’s strides. It was just his luck that this mission required Ghost’s stealth and strength, and your tech skills. He would have put up a fight, but he knew you were the only one with the right skills for the job and he wasn’t about to compromise an important mission just to avoid you. 

Ghost side-eyed you, huffing in response to your whines. “You always this whiney?”

“Actually, I can get a lot worse.” 

“For God’s sake,” he muttered.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “…Sir,” you added in at the end, remembering just who you were grumbling unpleasantries to. 

Ghost’s fist clenched, his breath deepening. “Wasn’t my bloody idea to take you on this mission with me. Trust me, I would have much preferred you stayed back.”

You shook your head. You were over it. “I’m not that bad, you know.” You peered up at him. He kept his head forward, scanning his surroundings as he walked. “The other guys like me.” You felt like a child as you kicked the dirt as you walked. You weren’t the type of person who needed everyone to like them, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you to see Ghost joking and being friendly with the others. Why did he hate you so damn much? 

You walked the rest of the way in silence. 

Night approached and you weren’t even close to where you were supposed to be—likely your fault for slowing Ghost down. “Can’t we just stop and rest a bit?”

“We got to get this mission done already,” he breathed, the way you were dragging him behind was giving him a headache. 

“Yes, I know. But it’s not really a time-sensitive mission…” you pleaded annoyingly. 

“I want to get back to base,” he said sternly, his head snapping in your direction to solidify his words. 

You followed behind him as he weaved through an abandoned building, his gun raised and ready. 

“I can’t really be that insufferable, right? I mean you like Soap just fine, and he’s loads more annoying than me,” you mumbled, speaking of Soap affectionately, but wanting to get your point across. 

He grunted in response—if you could call that a response.

You took in a sharp breath before speaking, waving your arms as you did even though he couldn’t see you as you stalked in his shadow. “I know you don’t like me. You’ve made that blatantly clear. I just thought this would be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better. I don’t know, maybe not ‘get to know each other’, that sounds lame. I just… I just thought you’d like me if I was able to prove myself—“ You slammed into Ghost as he faced you, gun resting by his side.

“What?! Why did we stop?” You asked in a panic. Your eyes immediately started searching the perimeter, trying to locate a threat. 

“I don’t hate you,” Ghost said through gritted teeth, his accent heavy. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. He was actually listening to your rambling.

You suddenly felt embarrassed under his gaze, regretting every stupid word you just said. You must have sounded so pathetic, complaining that your superior doesn’t crack jokes or tell you how good you’re doing, like any of that is important. His eyes were burning holes through you. “Oh…” was all you could muster. His eyes shied away from you finally, deciding not to say more than he already did. 

He turned and began moving again. You felt your cheeks warm as you tried to shake off what just happened and followed Ghost.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, occasionally blinking for too long, seeing black, and feeling like you were about to nod off before startling yourself back awake with wide eyes.

“God, damn it,” Ghost huffed as he looked at you over his shoulder. 

You shook your head trying to wake yourself up. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I’m awake.” You pushed the hair out of your eyes and tried your best to keep them open. 

You could see Ghost contemplating something under his mask. He may have had most of his face covered at all times, but his eyes were full of expressions.

“Alright. We’ll rest a bit here. I’ll keep watch.”

You felt a sigh of relief knowing you could finally close your eyes for a minute, not caring enough to question him. You sank against the cool metal wall behind you. “You’re not gonna sleep?”

Ghost adjusted his stance. “Someone’s gotta keep watch. Now hurry up and sleep before I change my fuckin’ mind.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were out as soon as you closed your eyes.

You stirred, your body moved up and down waking you. You slowly pried your eyes open, wondering how long you had been out. That’s when you realized why you were moving. You were curled up against Ghost’s chest, his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes widened as you rested against him. His breathing deep. 

You tilted your head to look up at him and he was already staring down at you. Before you could speak, Ghost answered your question. “You were shiverin’.” He said matter-of-factly as if that was a perfectly good explanation as to why the Lieutenant had you pressed up against him. Especially knowing how much you seemed to bother him, why would he care if you were a bit cold?

You pushed yourself off of him and sat up in an attempt to be at eye level with him. You were partially straddling his thigh as you stared him down, trying not to succumb to his dominating glare in an attempt to overpower you. 

“I was… Shivering?” You raised a brow, clearly not buying Ghost’s explanation. Ghost continued to stare at you. “What? Were you attempting to kill me in my sleep and then I woke up and ruined your plan?”

You pushed up off of him in annoyance and you felt his large hands grip your waist. He yanked you back so you were sitting on his thigh. Your eyes were wide with shock. Shit. Did I just piss off the lieutenant? You thought.

Ghost's voice was husky as he spoke, his throat strained from being awake for 42 hours and not getting much water. “I don’t fuckin’ hate you. And I wouldn’t plot to murder one of my men,” he growled. 

You raised your hands in defeat. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” your voice became meek as you remained under Ghost’s grip, his fingers likely leaving bruises. You thought about pointing out the fact that he had said ‘men’ and not women, so technically he wouldn’t be lying if he still plotted to kill you. But you knew he was not in a joking mood—not that he ever was with you. He could see the way you were completely missing what Ghost was trying to say.

“Jesus, you’re as bad as Soap,” he mumbled.

You gave him a questioning glance. “And by that, you mean…” 

Ghost glared at you from under his mask. You could feel your ears warm. After what felt like hours, he pushed you away and stood up in a huff. “Let’s go,” he commanded. His voice was stern and you knew if you made a joke or argued, he’d likely knock you on your ass. He was grumpier than usual. 

You followed behind him solemnly, kicking at the ground as you walked like a bratty child. 

You still were exhausted, your eyes red. You had slept maybe 30 minutes before you woke up in Ghost’s arms. The memory made you shiver. 

Ghost growled, clearly as annoyed as any one man could be. He squatted in front of you and you looked at him dumbfounded. 

“Wha-“

“Get on.”

You laughed, but Ghost stayed squatted. Your face went stoic. “Wait. You can’t be serious.”

“I want nothing more than to go to sleep and forget this whole fuckin’ mission, but you sleepwalking will make it take twice as long for me to get what I want. So get the fuck on.”

You gulped. This was next-level embarrassment. Not only did the men have to protect you, but now your lieutenant had to literally carry you. 

Your face was burning hot as you timidly reached out and jumped on Ghost’s back. All his tactical gear made your position against him sort of uncomfortable, but you didn’t dare complain.

Ghost stood, his arms hooking under your thighs and began walking. 

You both were silent the whole rest of the way, your arms wrapped around him as he carried you. Every once in a while he had to adjust your position back up and your heart would beat just a bit faster as his fingers slid along your thigh. 

It felt like it took forever to make it back to base, you couldn’t imagine how long it would have taken if you both had to walk at your own pace. You were thankful at least that Ghost decided to carry you and not leave you behind to find your own way back. 

Ghost had departed from you once you made it inside and you hadn’t seen him since. You stretched, sitting on your bed and staring at the clock. 1:34 am

You grumbled as you stood up and began down the hall in your slippers, not exactly very happy that your sleep schedule was messed up. You had slept for a good 17 hours once you crashed, but that meant you were now wide awake at 1 in the morning. Ghost was probably fast asleep by now and not rolling around in bed like you were. You rolled your eyes at the thought. Only you’d be able to mess up sleeping, you imagined Ghost mocking in his thick accent. Why did the thought give you butterflies? 

You walked past the gym to go outside and get some fresh air when you saw a single light on in the corner of the gym. You rubbed your eyes, stopping and focusing through the window. It was Ghost. 

You pushed open the door and spoke softly. “Lt.?”

Ghost grunted as he set the weights he was lifting down and turned to face you. It was dark but you could see that his mask was pushed up so he could down his water bottle and you felt your ears warm. 

“What?” He asked exasperated.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” You asked quietly as if people were sleeping in the gym. But your voice was likely so low because you knew you were just going to irritate him by asking. Maybe if you spoke softly, it wouldn’t sound as jarring to him. 

He walked closer to you, grabbing a towel to your left to wipe his sweat away. You could make out the stubble that painted his jaw now that he was only two feet away. “I’m fine,” he grunted.

Most of Ghost’s eye paint had washed away from sweat and you could see the dark circles. “When was the last time you slept?” 

Ghost groaned and it made you take a step back from him. His hand pulled his mask back down and he walked back to his weights, ready to start lifting again. The man was going to work himself to death.

You walked over to him with a bit more confidence. “Lt., you really need to rest. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep—“

He spun around, glaring at you. “You know why I can’t fuckin’ sleep?”

You felt small under his intense stare. You shook your head. 

“Oblivious, you are,” he grumbled, putting his weights away. 

“You want to talk about it?” You finally asked, unsure of what else to say. Maybe this would be a good time for him to confide in you? 

Before you knew what was happening, Ghost had you pinned against the wall, his breathing deep, your own heart racing in your chest. This isn’t what you expected.

“It’s because of you,” he growled.

“Me?” You said in a soft whimper. Was he truly this upset because you weren’t like the others? You got flustered and fumbled with a gun in your hands. You weren’t as skilled in battle as they were. You were just the tech guru. 

“You,” he grunted. “You’ve fuckin’ clouded my thoughts. You keep makin’ me distracted.”

Fuck, so your clumsiness was distracting him. “I’m sorry, I—“

“I can’t stop thinkin’ bout your warm body pressed against mine.” His voice was darker than earlier, but much quieter now. His strong arms straddled each side of your head, his eyes piercing you. You mentally jumped at his words.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, always irritated with how clueless you seemed to be. Weren’t you supposed to be insanely smart? Couldn’t you feel his eyes on you wherever you walked in a room? Couldn’t you see the way he purposefully avoided you since you were too much of a distraction to him because of how effortlessly breathtaking you always looked? Or because he was focusing so hard on making sure you were okay that he’d lose track of what he was doing? Couldn’t you see the way his fist tightened when you said you thought he hated you or when your honey-laced voice called him sir?

Ghost pushed his mask back up to his nose and bent into your face, your eyes widening. “You’ve consumed my every goddamn thought,” he mumbled before connecting his lips with yours. You froze at first, completely caught off guard. Ghost… Liked you? Really, liked you? 

Ghost was about to pull away but then you started to kiss him back. You couldn’t help yourself. 

He pushed himself closer to you, his hands dropping from the wall to rest on your hips. He pulled back and loomed over you, your flustered face making him feel weak again. “Hard to sleep when I can’t stop thinkin’ bout how your warm body felt so nice against me. Knowin’ I shouldn’t be thinkin’ bout you like that.” 

It all made sense now. You finally understood why he seemed to hate you. You began laughing. Of course, someone like Ghost would act like that when he had a little crush. This whole time you were so worried he would always despise you when that was never even the case to begin with. 

Ghost watched you until you stopped giggling, your face going serious in return. “Even though I’m awful at everything I do?”

Ghost’s arms were back next to your head making you jump. “You’re not. You’re great at exactly what we need you to be great at. It’s the reason you’re part of the task force.” You looked unconvinced and Ghost dragged a hand over his mask in annoyance. “Yeah, so you’re terrible with a fuckin’ gun. Why would I care about that?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I figured the lieutenant would hate anyone who wasn’t useful in the way he was…” 

“You think so lowly of me?”

“No! I only meant… I mean, I figured you admired strength and deadly skills more than…”

He mumbled your name heavily and you got chills. “I don’t fuckin’ care about any of that. You can do shit that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. If anything, it drives me crazy knowing you always need protection.” You took in a sharp breath, your palms flat against the wall behind you, worried he was about to explain why having to protect you all time drove him mad with rage, but what he said instead made you blush. “Makin’ me act… Possessive.” He sighed like he was talking to himself, explaining exactly why he couldn’t be attracted to you. “I can’t be actin’ like that.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you almost couldn’t hear what he was saying to you. “Why?” You whispered. You could see Ghost’s jaw tighten under his mask. He stayed silent, not answering your question. 

Ghost’s eyes followed your hand as you reached up to his chin making him flinch. In embarrassment, you began to pull your hand away, but Ghost caught your wrist in his and moved your hand to lay against the side of his jaw. “Jus’ not used to touch, s’all.” 

“But you like it? Touch, I mean.” You asked softly, your fingers caressing the cheek of the scariest man you knew. If anything, the way he was towering over you, trapping you between his arms, made him scarier. And yet…

“Mhm,” he hummed almost inaudibly as if he wasn’t used to being vulnerable and was struggling to admit it.

Ghost wasn’t sure what to do next. Your voice surprised him when you asked him a question he didn’t think you’d ask. “Will you kiss me again?” Your eyes fluttered up at him. 

His eyes danced between yours. “Want me to?” A brow raised beneath his mask, his pupils blown.

You nodded. Ghost’s hand was on yours again, pulling it away from his face and pushing it against the wall behind you. His palm engulfed your hand entirely. He leaned down, hovering over your lips, brushing them slowly against yours. You whined before he finally kissed you again, this time rougher than before. 

When was the last time Ghost kissed someone else? He couldn’t remember. So then why was he acting so bold? Like this was a normal thing for him to do? It was likely the intense lack of sleep that was making him act drunk. 

Ghost moved and cupped your face as he kissed you. Your small hands gripped his shirt and tugged him closer to you, making Ghost chuckle against your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, love?” 

You were falling in love with the way he spoke to you. So much gentler than earlier. In a voice you never heard him speak before.

He pulled away, his lips hovering over yours, his eyes flickering across your face. “You really should sleep,” you whispered, the dark circles under his eyes perfectly visible to you now. 

“Yeah? It’s rather cold in my room,” he muttered, his eyes studying your own. Your hands stayed twisted in his shirt, “Need me to keep you warm, Lt.?” You couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. Granted, they were barely over a whisper. Normally Ghost could think properly, it was one of the many things he was known for, and he knew that this was a bad idea, but coming up on 50 hours without sleep was making him loopy.

He grinned and grabbed you, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

You yelped, “Ghost!” He smirked as he walked back to his room, tossing you on his bed. It was the same size as your bed: a twin. How on earth did this man fit in such a tiny bed? It was cruel. And how were the two of you going to fit?

“I don’t think we both can—“

“Would you stop whining for once and just lay beside me?” His voice was groggy and stern. You blushed in the dark, almost entranced by the way you irritated him. Except now you knew he liked it. 

Ghost climbed into the bed beside you, his room pitch black. He grabbed your waist and pulled you against him, startling you at his boldness. He had to hold you basically on top of him so you could both fit, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Within minutes he was asleep, his soft snoring rumbling through his chest. You smiled, resting against him. His arms tightened around you. You knew this was going to be a… situation in the morning. This was going to be awkward and would fill Ghost with regret and embarrassment, but right now, your eyes felt so heavy. And even if you wanted to leave, you weren’t sure you could escape Ghost’s grip. 

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part seventeen

authors note: hi! this one isn't as long as some of the most recent, but it is fluffy! well, for the most part. next one will probably be a lil longer and def not as fluffy.....

also, ya'll fake asf for not telling me i put 'simone' as reader sister's name when it's 'bianca' at the end of the last update. i may or may not watch crime docs sometimes while writing......

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @msbigredmachine @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns

You don’t typically get nervous.

It’s just not a trademark of your personality, but for this….for this, there’s definitely a fair amount of trepidation. For one, outside of the fact that most of your favorite outfits suddenly seem too unflattering or fit a bit too snug. For two, you can’t seem to get your hair to cooperate with the same updo you’ve done since you were in your teens.

Not to mention the fact that you were so in your head about this damn lunch during your shower that you weren’t paying close enough attention as you were shaving down there and nicked yourself. On a fucking lip of all things. So now you walk with a bit of limp because that fucking cut keeps brushing, burning, against your underwear.

Truthfully, all of this just feels like a sign that you shouldn’t be doing this. That you should text Bianca some excuse as to why you can’t make it to lunch.

But, it’s the image of Callie’s sweet, smiling face and ardent excitement as you told her Bianca was coming in town and bringing Taylor that you realize you can’t do that to her. She’s so excited about seeing and playing with Taylor again that it feels almost cruel to take that away from her.

So pushing aside your injured pussy lip, crooked bun, and unflattering outfit, you do what needs to be done for the sake of your daughter.

And yourself, really. 

Of course, you got Callie ready before yourself, as she’s much much easier. So, it’s nothing to grab her once you’re done overthinking to head out and go. But not before snapping a selfie of the two of you and sending it to your close friends story and Joe. Cause God forbid this man learns what Stories are and how they work. 

You may not be thrilled with your appearance, but Callie is just too cute to not photograph.

You two arrive at the restaurant before Bianca and Taylor, which you’re mostly grateful for. It allows you to work through the remnants of your anxiety and catch up on a few texts. The first thing you have to reply to though is Joe who texts you in response to your snap.

Joe: Why does it go away so fast?

Joe: Just text me the photo.

His messages make you laugh aloud, forcing you to smack your hand over your mouth not to draw attention to yourself. Joe’s paltry skills with social media, or just Snapchat, really is both comical and sad as hell.

You shake your head, typing out your reply. 

You: babe, how many times do i have to tell you? just screenshot! 

Joe: That’s too much work.

Laughing again, you see Callie briefly look your way before she focuses her attention back onto her tablet. She’s been using it a bit more often than you’d like, but considering everything ya’ll have been through the past couple weeks, it’s hard to put limits there.

It is something to be mindful of though.

Hell, maybe she can help her dad learn a thing or two about how to work technology. 

You: i’m signing you up for some type of tech class or shit for your birthday, cause this is ridiculous. 🥴

Joe: Lol.

A thought then crosses your mind as you shoot him another text.

You: what do you want for your birthday, btw?

You: and remember, only one of us is rich. 🙃

Back when you and Joe were dating, the most he’d get from you is a birthday text or maybe some baked goods if he happened to be visiting near the time of his birthday. But, this is obviously very different. You’re now in a committed relationship, about to move in together to raise your daughter.

And with all Joe has done for you these past months, both financially and emotionally, it would be almost criminal to not get him something.

Of course, you also know that your man is just about as stubborn as you are, hence your expectation that he’ll simply say nothing or find some bullshit reason why you shouldn’t or don’t need to.

If only you actually planned to listen to him. 

And it’s also only March, giving you like two months to wear him down into just accepting your gratitude. 

Joe: Just say yes when I ask.

Reading his message makes you frown, your nose turned up in confusion. What is he talking about?

Joe: That’s all I need. All I want.

He’s successful in providing a nice distraction, sure, but this man is also confounding the fuck out of you. He’s always on some elusive, coy bullshit. 

You: what? what kind of man code speak shit is that? yes? yes to what? anal? 

You: we been over that shit. you’re too big. i’m down for anything but that.

Then again, Joe does have an uncanny ability to make anything feel good. And comparing a sexual experience with Amir to Joe is literally fucking apples and oranges. Much like his wrestling persona, Joe is on some ‘god mode’ type shit when it comes to sex.

Joe: Shut up. You’re gonna make me hard in this fuckin meeting thinking bout that pussy….

Naturally, you angle your body away from Callie a bit to ensure she has absolutely no way to see your phone, to see that message that has you pressing your thighs together. It’s definitely been too long since you’ve had him inside you, and him being nasty right now isn’t helping that. 

You: stop being nasty, please. callie is literally sitting next to me, and i don’t feel like soaking my panties.

You don't need your daughter knowing her parents are freaks.

You: i’ll see about when’s the next time we can come visit though 👀

Joe is hella deep in WrestleMania season, so it’s virtually impossible for him to get away, hence you needing to be the one to take her to go see him. Granted, you’re also busy as hell, trying to wrap up things at home, gradually transitioning to the house in Florida.

The house that you and Joe now officially own, because true to his word, as always, your name is on everything. You attended the signing with him which made it official. It’s also when you got to see just how much Joe spent on said house, the number nearly making you pass out in your seat.

Even more, to speed up the process and ensure you could move in much sooner than what’s typical when buying a house, he paid over the asking price. 

Cash.

It’s most definitely not possible to love this man more than you already do.

He follows up with another text shortly after, respectfully changing the subject in a way that makes you smile warmly. 

Joe: Don’t be nervous. 

It’s a bit unreal how good he is at reading you, even through texts.

You: lmao how’d ya know?

Joe: Cause I know you. 

Joe: You two already connected before you even realized who she was. Lean into that. Try to take your father out of the equation. This is about you and her. Not him.

Reading over Joe’s message once, twice, three times really does something to help your anxiety. He’s right. If you had never even known who Bianca really is, you guys would probably be even closer now, chatting it up frequently. There’s so much more potential there than there is danger.

You: thank you….i love you ❤️

Joe: Love you too, baby. Text me when ya’ll finish. 

Switching threads, you send out a few more texts and work out a date and time with Kaylah for her to accompany you and Alexis furniture shopping when Callie’s sweet, excited voice pulls you from your phone.

“Taylor!” Callie swiftly pushes her tablet to the side and climbs off the bench you two were waiting on when she sees Taylor’s smiling face.

“Callie!” 

It’s with an absolutely full heart you watch the two run to meet each other for a big hug, embracing like they’ve known each other for years.

Like they’re family.

“Hey….”

Your attention switches to Bianca who’s standing just a few feet away from you, clearly torn on whether to offer her hand, initiate a hug, or what.

Remembering Joe’s words of wisdom, you take a deep breath and hug her. “Hi, Bianca.”

You can literally feel the anxiety melt off of the both of you as you pull back and see she has unshed tears in her eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

You’re able to offer a smile, a genuine one too, especially as you glance over at the girls who are now sitting on the bench, looking and talking over Callie’s tablet. “I think it’s worth it just for that alone.”

Bianca looks and laughs. “She’s been asking about Callie.”

That dims your smile a bit, a strange sort of sadness. “Callie has been asking about her too.” You feel bad depriving the girls of seeing each other, scheduling out this meeting so far in advance, but it wasn’t entirely of your choosing.

The past three weeks since you found out Joe literally bought a house for three of ya’ll has been filled with nothing but preparing for the move. Working as much as you can, trying to transition your students as best as possible. Trying to figure out who to hire to move you all, flights back and forth from your town to Florida as you work on things for the house like getting the lights and water turned on and in your and Joe’s name.

Just a lot of shit.

So while you weren’t itching to pencil this in ASAP, you also would have been okay if it happened a bit sooner and closer to when you finally responded to Bianca’s text.

The four of you are escorted and seated in the restaurant, you and Bianca having Callie and Taylor sit in the booth across from you. 

This isn’t a conversation they need to overhear, not that they’d want to. They’re in their own little world.

After ordering and making small talk over your meals, Bianca is the one to make the first move. “I guess it’d be remiss of me to not start off with the big elephant in the room.”

There’s an unfamiliar sense of anxiety that starts to stir in your stomach, but you push it away, joking, “just one? I think we have a couple.”

She laughs and then starts off with, “I remember that day, you know.” Your confusion must show because she adds with an almost gentleness. “That day in the police station.”

And the anxiety is back, your eyes dropping to the plate of food as you try your best to keep your shit together. “Oh…that.”

“This probably sounds crazy, but….there was something about you that seemed familiar almost. But when I asked dad who you were….well…..”

“What did he say?” A part of you wants to know, but a large part of you doesn’t. So whether she answers or not, both are okay with you. 

There’s clear hesitation but she still answers, nonetheless. “He just said you were a troubled teen.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Typical. That man is bottom of the barrel trash, and if not for Bianca probably thinking decently of him, you’d say as such. “Of course he did.” 

“When I first asked him about you, he lied. He said he had no idea who you were, but I refused to let it go because…..because I could see the hurt in your eyes that night. I knew there was a story there, and I wasn’t going to give up until he came clean. And when he did…..” She shakes her head, tapping her fork against her plate. “We haven’t spoken since.”

That surprises you. You’d take a guess that Bianca and that man were close, or at least semi-close, so the fact that they haven’t spoken…..you feel bad. Not for him. Fuck him. But for her. “Bianca, regardless of what happened between me and….him…that shouldn’t get in the way—”

“I always wanted a sister, Y/N,” she interrupts, and you can hear the emotion arriving in her voice. “I begged my parents for years when I was a kid for them to give me a sister. And he knew. They both knew about you. They knew about you, and they kept us away from each other. He kept us away from each other.” She angrily wipes at her eyes. “I–I don’t know how to forgive that.”

Her emotions and feelings are valid. You feel the same way just for slightly different reasons, though forgiveness isn’t even something you’ve thought about. There is no forgiving that man for what he did.

But, just because that’s your story doesn’t mean it has to be Bianca’s.

“You need time to sort through it all,” is the best guidance you can give her. Anything more would be the emotionally blind leading the emotionally blind. “The same way I needed time before reaching out to you.”

She nods, sitting on your words. “And I really do appreciate you giving this a chance, Y/N.”

You’re starting to as well, but before things can move forward, you feel the need to set some ground rules. “I’m open to this….to getting to know you more, to letting the girls continue to know each other more, but…..I have a stipulation.”

Bianca swallows. “I’m listening.”

“Anything I share with you regarding myself and my family, I need it to stay between you and me. Your husband is fine, but your parents and brother…..I don’t want them knowing anything about me and especially my daughter.” Fingers nervously tapping against the table, you disclose, “I just had a really messed up situation happen that I’m still trying to fully process, so I’m even more protective of Callie and myself at this point in my life. And I like you, Bianca, but this isn’t something I can compromise on.”

“And you shouldn’t.” Her initial response surprises you a bit. A part of you was worried she’d try to convince you that you should at least be open to the possibility of getting to know the rest of the family. But given she’s not even speaking to her parents right now, your stipulation must not be a hard sell. “I completely understand, and I’ll respect your wishes. It’s probably better this way, actually.” 

Her agreeing and being respectful really means a lot to you, and you express as such. “Thank you, Bianca.”

Her smile is warm and welcoming as the both of you happen to glance over at the girls at the exact same time while they’re in the midst of a giggle fest. It makes you laugh as she asks, “so, you mentioned something about moving?”

“Yeah, umm, we’re moving to Florida with Callie’s dad.” For a brief second, you second guess telling her this information. Second guess how much you want to disclose. But, you decide that if Bianca is willing to meet you halfway, you need to do the same.

“Seriously?” you nod. “You know we live in Florida too, right?”

Yes and no. You remember Bianca telling you she lived further down South, but it isn’t until this very moment that you recall Bianca lives in Florida. You ask where and realize she’ll only be about 45 minutes out from your house.

Callie and Taylor are going to love this.

“So…..” She starts off, facial expression giving away that she has a question she’s burning to ask but is trying her best to keep to herself. “Callie’s dad…..”

Instantly, you’re laughing. It’s comical seeing her try so hard to be respectful. “You wanna know how we met.”

She releases a heavy sigh, planting both hands on the table. “Girl, you cannot just have Roman freaking Reigns fine ass be your man and daughter’s father and not expect me to ask.” Your laughter increases as she adds on, “respectfully, of course. I’m happily married. But, I still have eyes.”

Fair. Very fucking fair. “It’s….a bit of a complicated story.”

She darts her eyes over to the girls who seem like they’re still only in the first stages of play. “I think we have time.”

She’s not wrong.

Leaning a bit closer to her, extra mindful of your volume, you start of this wild yet epic love story. “So it all started at a Smackdown show….”

—------

“Alexis, why the hell is your mugshot your instagram profile pic?”

It’s a question you never thought would leave your mouth, nor something you thought you’d ever see. 

You still feel bad about that, about Alexis getting arrested for assaulting Mariah. Granted, it’s obvious Alexis doesn’t. Not one bit. She’s said as such to you, that she would do it all over again, arrest and all.

And it does help, slightly, that just as she predicted, the DA chose not to pursue the case on the grounds of lack of evidence. How much of that was Alexis being rich working in her favor vs there not being enough concrete evidence to sustain a case is beyond you. Regardless, you’re just happy she’s not in any major legal trouble because of you.

She looks over and flips her recent sew–in over her shoulder. “I look cute.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but Alexis looking amazing at any point and time isn’t a hard thing in general considering she’s naturally fucking gorgeous. “It’s a mugshot, Alexis.”

“And? Booking or not, I look cute.” You can see her observing some of the living room sets you two pass while making your way back to Kaylah and Callie from your bathroom break. Your bladder has been freaking irritating, with you needing to pee more than usual. And of course, Alexis couldn’t turn down an opportunity to snap bathroom selfies. “What about this?” 

Sliding your phone back in your purse, you see it’s a bedroom set, immediately reminding, “I’m waiting for Joe, Lex.”

“Girl, isn’t WrestleMania in like three weeks? You can’t wait that long to get a damn bed.” Before you can protest, she lifts an acrylic stiletto nail to silence you. “How you gonna be sleeping in a million dollar house on a damn air mattress, Y/N? You suck at this rich bitch shit.”

“I’ll be fine. We just need to get Callie something today. That’s the priority.” And it’s the truth. Callie having at least the essentials in her room is why you’re perusing this fancy ass furniture store in the first place. “As long as my baby is good, I’m good.”

“Whatever, but do you at least like it?” Her question is valid, so you observe the bedroom set. It’s a seven piece, dark wood, silver accents. “It is nice. Looks like something for a man too.”

That’s the thing though. You feel a bit wrong buying a bedroom set that’s for two people when only one is present. Joe made it clear he’s cool with whatever you get, but considering he’s paying for it, he should have a say.

Alexis then points out. “It even includes a full body mirror that way ya’ll can watch yourselves fucking.”

“Alexis!”

“What?” She smacks her teeth, hand on her hip. “Is it a lie?”

Your mouth opens and immediately snaps shut. She’s right. It’s not a lie. Joe loves making you watch him fuck you, finger you, eat you out. You name it. And it’s not like you object either….

But, that doesn’t mean you need it pointed out in a damn furniture store.

“Let’s just get back to Callie,” you murmur, certain that your cheeks are tinged red. Thank black Jesus for melanin to hide embarrassment in moments like this. 

Callie spots you before you can even catch her attention. “Mommy!” She runs over, taking your hand as she guides you over to a display. “Look!” Immediately, you can understand why she wants you to see it. 

It literally looks like something out of HGTV magazine. White bedroom pieces adorned with pinks, purples, yellows. All of Callie’s favorite colors. The bed is actually a bunk bed that’s designed like a castle, the larger bed on the bottom and the spiral staircase leading up to the second bed a bit smaller.

It’s so excessive and so Callie.

Kaylah comes beside you with a knowing smirk. “I think she’s found the one.”

“Can I get it mommy, please!” Callie is peering up at you with those big brown eyes, holding onto your legs. “We can ask daddy!”

That last part makes you chuckle. You already know that man would have his card out by now, signing for the transaction. Whatever she wants, he makes it happen.

You do ask though, looking for a price tag or something. You know it’s gotta cost a pretty penny with how excessive and grandiose it is. “How much is it…..”

“Who cares?” Alexis suddenly sounds, walking over with an annoyed expression. “You know Joe is good for it. Time to pull out one of those fancy new cards he got for you.”

She’s referring to the new set of debit and credit cards in your wallet, all the result of Joe adding you on as an authorized user on all of his accounts. For some reason, you’ve hesitated to actually use any of them, regardless of the fact that all of the shopping you need to do is for the house you’re all living in together.

Kaylah gently bumps into your side. “You already know what he’d say.”

His deep voice is in your ear as if he’s standing beside you. My little girl gets what she wants.

“Girl, he’d be at the register by now.” You laugh, looking down and bopping Callie’s nose. “Daddy already said you can get whatever you want, Callie Bear” Wanting to be sure, you lean down, asking, “is this really the one you want?”

“Yes!” She cheers, jumping up and down and hugging you. “Mommy! I’m gonna be a princess!”

Rubbing her cheek, you lean over to kiss her forehead. She’s not entirely wrong. Especially when she sees the surprise Joe is working on for her new bedroom.

Feeling slightly ganged up on but also content with making a purchase that will make your little girl happy, you stand up, announcing, “then let’s get it for you, baby.” Callie continues to celebrate at the pending purchase of her new bedroom set as you grab your phone to check the time. The OB-GYN happened to have a cancellation today, which works perfectly cause the initial appointment they gave you wasn’t until the end of April. So, you snatched it up. “Come on, let’s go use one these fancy new cards.”

Alexis nods with such pride, giving a fist pump and high five to Callie after Kaylah does the same. “Let’s fuc—”

“Alexis!”

—---------

After purchasing and arranging an expedited delivery date for Callie’s new bedroom set, the three of you head back over to the new house. Kaylah leaves shortly after, needing to go pick Ellie up from school. 

But Alexis stays and keeps Callie company while you shower and get ready for your appointment. Callie asks if she can come with you, and you explain that you’ll come right back home after, which seems to somewhat settle her. But, you can tell she still doesn’t like the answer. 

It’s something you make a mental note to discuss with Joe. 

She’s been asking a lot of questions like ‘when are you coming back,’ and ‘can i come with you?’. 

You’ve noticed an increase in her separation anxiety since the whole DCFS nightmare. Not that you can blame her. You also have a small amount of anxiety any time you have to “leave” her, a brief irrational thought that they could take her away from you again.

Yeah….definitely something to discuss with Joe.

The doctor’s office is only about a 15 minute drive from the house, which is super nice and the office atmosphere is automatically welcoming. Right off the bat, you feel comfortable. Approaching the receptionist who offers a kind smile, you provide your first and last name, explaining you’re here for a new patient appointment.

She types on the computer, asking in a kind voice, “were you able to fill out the paperwork?”

“Uhhh, no, I’m sorry. We’re in the process of trying to move here, so I’ve been back and forth, and it just slipped my mind.” You’re probably offering more information than what’s necessary, but as someone who gets heavily annoyed when people don’t follow through on tasks, you can understand if there’s irritation on her part. “But, I came a little early to see if I can just fill it out now?”

“Of course, honey.” Her voice is honey sweet as she rolls in her chair, grabbing a clipboard that has paperwork attached. Handing it to you, she explains, “just answer as best you can and be sure to signature and initial when it asks for either. If you don’t finish by the time they call you back, don’t worry about it. You can finish it with the nurse.”

“Thank you so much.” As she hands you back your drivers license and insurance card, you place both back in your wallet and find an empty seat in the waiting area. Using the pen attached, you start to complete the paperwork, unsurprised by how thick the packet is. Specialty doctors typically have a lot of information they need. Unfortunately, some of it requires you to pull up your phone to log into your MyChart. This makes the process take even longer, so much so that you’re only about halfway done when an older black woman, probably around your mom’s age, calls you back.

Seeing so much melanin instantly puts you at so much ease. You can see why Kaylah highly recommended this practice. You haven’t even met the doctor yet, and you’re already sold. 

The nurse, Helen, as she introduced herself makes nice pleasantries with you as she takes your blood pressure before directing you to stand on the scale.

It’s one thing to suspect that you’ve gained weight but another to actually have it confirmed. And that’s exactly what the scale does.

It’s nothing major, but definitely something to monitor. You’ve never been super anal about your weight, but you also know you have to keep an eye on it, to some extent.

Helen takes the incomplete paperwork from you, kindly explaining that she can just take the information from you verbally as she types it into the system. You’re grateful because your hand is already cramping.

Her questions are mostly easy, some requiring you to use the MyChart as well as dig deep into your long-term memory to retrieve those long forgotten tidbits of information.

But, it’s one question in particular that changes everything. 

“And what was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

Naturally, you unlock your phone again to open Flo, but your finger is hovering over the pink icon when it slams into you. A whirlwind of little things that create a much bigger, life changing picture.

Nausea. Vomiting. Emotionality. Breast tenderness. Weight gain. Frequent urination.

No cycle.

“Oh my god…..” Your phone drops in your lap as you bring your hands to cover your mouth, eyes wide and focused on nothing in particular. “Oh…..” How you didn’t put the pieces together much sooner is a bit beyond you. A large chunk of it, you’d guess, was because you chalked it all up to the high stress you’ve been under the past few months. Many people would react the way you did, but this isn’t just that.

It’s more.

So much more.

Helen is suddenly crouched in front of you, hand on your knee. “Is everything alright, baby?”

Watery eyes snapping to her, you nod fervently, starting to wipe at the tears that have already started to spill. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just—” You get choked up, releasing a perfect mixture of a sob and laugh. “The last time I was in this position, I sat in my doctor’s office bawling my eyes out because I was so scared and nervous and just not in a good place mentally. But now…..” It’s hard for you to fully explain all of the wonderful emotions coursing through your body. “I’m doing the same thing but for entirely different reasons.” Your hand goes to your stomach as you look up and tell her with the happiest voice. “I’m pregnant.”

————

It’ll take a couple days for the results of your pregnancy test to come back, as explained by Dr. Young, whom you already love and trust to assist you through your pregnancy. 

But, you don’t need test results to confirm what you already know.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that you’re pregnant, and that thought alone is enough to bring you to tears. It’s why you’ve been sitting in your car for almost half an hour just crying. Tears of joy, of course.

The first and only thing you want to do is call Joe. You want to tell him with everything in you.

But…..

You can’t.

Not yet anyway.

He was deprived of so much with Callie, lost out on so many special moments. You can’t do the same with this pregnancy. You need to make this as special for him as possible, from the moment he finds out to the moment he holds this new baby for the first time.

It’s why you know that you can’t tell a soul. Not Alexis. Not your mom. Not even Callie. 

Joe was the last to find out before, but he’ll damn sure be the first to find out this time. 

It’s also why you make the somewhat difficult to keep Callie out of the loop too. A part of you thinks it could be sweet to have her help you break the news to him, but you also don’t want to deprive him of telling Callie with you.

So, you decide that this has to be a solo venture.

The first thing you need to figure out is the timeline. Figure out when you can go see Joe to tell him in person, because with WrestleMania right around the corner, there’s no way he’ll be back here before then. You and Dr. Young predict you’re about 10 weeks along, which means you’ll be hitting three months in less than a month. That works out good, because you were about four months pregnant with Callie before you started showing, so there’s some grace there.

Granted, it is a little odd that you’ve already gained the amount of weight you have given you’re not even three months along…..

The phone ringing pulls you from your thoughts. The ringtone tells you it’s Alexis before you even look at the phone. 

It takes a second for you to gather yourself, knowing her perceptive ass will pick up on something right away if you don’t. Three deep breaths help you to feel adequately prepared before you hit answer. “Hey girl. I’m on my—”

“I swear to God, Y/N, I’m literally going to kill that bitch! I don’t even fucking care anymore! I’m going to prison!”

You’re used to Alexis being dramatic and over the top, but there’s an unfamiliar level of alarm in her voice. “Lex, wait, slow down. What are you talking about?”

She pauses on the other end of the phone. “Fuck. You don’t know yet, do you?” She curses. "Damn, I figured you did by now, considering my phone has been going off with notifications from all the major news outlets the past hour."

Your throat suddenly feels dry. “Know what?” She doesn’t say anything, so you snap, “know what, Alexis!”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone followed by her directing, “go to TMZ. Right now.”

Your panic instantly melts away. Alexis and her damn obsessiveness over pop culture. 

Sucking your teeth, you laugh and shake your head. “Girl, you are so dramatic. Had me thinking something happened.” Switching to speaker, you open up your browser and start to type. “This better not be about the housewives, cause…..” Your voice stops and stomach drops when the splash screen loads, allowing you to read the headline.

A headline that includes a picture of you and Callie. 

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: WWE SUPERSTAR ROMAN REIGNS LONG-TERM MISTRESS AND ALLEGED LOVE CHILD 

Click for pictures and videos! Read the scathing story and watch the exclusive tell all interview with mistress childhood friend!

[soapsbaby]

Bookworm

Summary: Your CoD Partner finds you reading a smutty novel. Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Kate Laswell, König, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Vargas, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: NSFW (mdni) Word Count: 600ish

Simon

He doesn’t fully get it but if you love them, he does too. He's never once criticized any of your hobbies, if they make you happy, he supports it.

He has definitely found his way to have fun with it though, his favorite way is to make you read them out loud while he eats you out, making you repeat every line you didn’t manage to get out clearly enough for him to understand.

“Oh, Baby, what was that?”

Johnny

He loves your voice, he could listen to you for hours, so he loves when you read them out to him. Usually he’s just sprawled out on top of you, head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair and read to him.

He keeps commenting everything to make sure you know he’s still awake, with little sentences like “Hm. Would you like that?” or “We should try that” or “That sounds horrible, I’m sorry.” if it’s a particularly wild scene.

Definitely falls asleep at times, though.

Gaz

It started with you telling him all of the plots of the books you were reading but since he seemed so intrigued you just started leaving the books on his bedside table once you were done with them so he could pick them up too.

It has become a tradition for you to leave little sticky notes on parts you especially enjoy so he can take inspiration (and he does).

Price

He enjoys them, especially since it makes it easier for you to express your needs and desires to him when you can otherwise be a little shy about them. He likes having you cuddled up to him and reading them out to you, reenacting them while he does, if possible.

Laswell

She picked up a few of the ones you finished and wasn’t convinced, telling you they were silly and unrealistic, but the next time you picked up your e-reader, she downloaded your favorite authors’ entire bibliography for you.

König

If you love something, he loves it too, but it took him a while to get used to those books, he was scandalized by the types of things you decided to read. 

“Listen, I thought I was mostly fluent in English… But the words in here…” 

Alejandro

Now this man will indulge you. Be it reenacting scenes, taking inspo, hell, he’ll even dress like your favorite characters if you ask him nicely enough.

He’s into roleplay anyways so it’s not that much of a far cry for him to get into the characters you find yourself fantasizing about. 

Rudy

He’d be lying if he said he fully gets it, but it’s your interest and so he appreciates it as much as he appreciates you and always shows interest when you wanna share any of the stories with him. 

He’s a huge bookworm as well, so a lot of the time you will cuddle up together somewhere, both reading your books.

He sporadically looks over your shoulder and if he spots you reading a particularly explicit scene his fingers will find their way between your legs, getting you off while you read .

Valeria

When she first saw you reading one of your smutty little novels she grabbed it from you, reading it out loud to you to fluster you (which worked, of course).

“Cariño, what the hell are you reading, hm?” You straddled her, desperately trying to grab the book out of her hands, miserable failing to do so. "Wow, you little slut."

[herozdiary]

Attractive

Simon x Reader

This diary entry contains…some suggestive stuff | making out | drinking | smoking | established relationship | I thought of this last night while having a Simon brain rot😵‍💫 | basically just attractive things about Simon and attractive things he does🤗 | short 😓

Simon was probably one of the most attractive people you had seen in this shitty town.He had seen you as some type of angel when you first talked to him.His eye bags and his half lidded sleepy eyes did something to you that nearly made you do a triple flip onto his lap.

Or the way he would nod and let out a hum as you would explain the most complicated thing on earth to you.by the time you would be done explaining your topic he would be able to repeat it back to you perfectly because he’s such a great listener.

Once you two became a thing you would tell him how you found him so fucking attractive that you wanted to ask to marry him the second you opened your mouth.he was in shock but felt like a little teenage boy who just held hands with his crush.

You love the way how messy his hair looks and his facial hair…whenever he cuddles up to you and has his face buried into your neck you nearly start to giggle from the way his facial hair rubs against your neck.

For his hair you could play with it for hours.it felt soft surprisingly and he finally fessed up his secret that he uses dry shampoo.

We all know Simon is a smoker but good god how attractive he makes it.you remember how one time you decided to spend the night with him and the two of you stayed up for most of the night just talking.He never really liked smoking around you but you didn’t seem to mind.

You felt your stomach do backflips as he brought the cigarette up to his chapped lips and messed with his lighter for a couple of seconds.the way he inhaled before blowing it out and looking at you with that lazy look in his eyes made you scream inside.

Speaking of his eyes the way he looks at you makes you sweat and blush like crazy.his eyes would follow your every move and would study your features like you were his favorite book.his eyes were most of the time half lidded when staring at you knowing that was your main weakness.(men with lazy eyes make me go CRAZYY😵‍💫😵‍💫)

When Simon get drunk,He’s a stumbling,mumbling mess who always says the most random but cutest things.He always tells you how pretty you look and how he’s madly in love with you.he gets extremely pouty also.He denies everything by the time he’s sober again.

When you guys make out his hands are always somewhere on your waist,hips or ass,Squeezing the areas as he bites at your bottom lip.

He makes you his Lock Screen on his phone mostly because he can’t always see you.he has a photo of you in his wallet that you took on his camera.he found it silly and got it printed and put it in his wallet.its like his own way of having you with him at all times.

His cuddles are the best as he doesn’t mind being the big spoon or little spoon,you laying on top of him or him laying on top of you.he’s up to try anything new with you as in the end he might like it.

[lunarw0rks]

Hii, I‘ve already asked a lot of creators but it seems luck is not on my side..😵‍💫

I‘ve just read your Story with Simon „Too old for you“ and am already in LOVE with your writings!♥️

Could you maybe write one with John Price and a younger reader(between 23 to 25) that is head over heels for the Captain but he doesn‘t really know what to do with the constant flirting of the younger Female.

If you can write it or not Thank you anyway for your amazing Stories!🥰

∘⋆․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹ pining for price | headcanon/drabbles

Warning(s): sfw, hints of nsfw, age gap [reader is mid-twenties, price is late thrities/early forties], 141!reader, fem!reader Word Count: 569 ── 『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

──── AT FIRST, he thought you had picked up on mixed signals.

☆ like yeah, he's a handsome man. he's a natural leader, a supportive one at that. He started to question every interaction with you; had he been too forward unintentionally? were you confused?

☆ but it didn't take long for him to succumb to the flirting. the way you would playfully tease him, find him in every crowded room on the base and how you'd invite him to things he would otherwise have no interest in.

☆ would he show up? not unless it was just going to be the two of you. sometimes, he truly didn't have the spare time or energy to join you. others? he was using work as an excuse to rid you of his thoughts - which was no simple task.

☆ there was no fighting desire, though. no matter how old-fashioned, how respectful, how civil he was.

☆ your enamored expression through your lashes, had him weaker in the knees than he cared to admit. or ever would. perhaps, you weren't interested in him, but only the idea of an older man.

☆ but... you were never the type. not once had you mentioned a boyfriend/husband, not even a date you had been on. you only had eyes for him, it was obvious. even after months of remaining platonic, brushing you off intentionally and unintentionally — you were damn persistent.

☆ he admired the effort, whether or not he was ever going to cave. vigor is what he needed on his team; inappropriate or not. at least, that's how he would rationalize it anytime he'd indulge your flirting.

☆ Besides — he had very little game. his flirts could be downright cringe-worthy at times. either that, or they were extremely dated. it's a nice change, being the recipient of the attention for john.

☆ for many years, price thought he was long past his prime. wife, kids, home life; it was an afterthought, an oppertunity he let go of a long time ago. his life is work work work and more work...

☆ so, why not take the edge off every once and a while; and reciprocate the attention? linger a little longer at your workstation? even tell you he was proud of you in that sweet, raspy voice.

☆ however this little banter game ended, whether in your bed or his, or not at all — he cared little. it's not easy to get the captain soft, but somehow you had done it.

☆ the evening you had a nightcap with him, everything changed. the day was long, anxiety-inducing, but successful. no one was injured, no one left behind, and nothing catastrophic happened. for the first time in a while, his team was guaranteed safety until the next threat arose.

☆ you looked at him that way again. subtly looking the burly Captain up and down, all while you wrapped your lips around your glass. just the two of you, in intimate lighting.

☆ he could ravish you — but he wouldn't. not yet.

☆ restraint was always one of price's strongest attributes. he had to be in his profession and in his rank. why stop now? why not prolong the inevitable to enjoy the reward a thousand times more, later?

『 "should let me buy you a few drinks sometime, love. off duty. what do you say, hm?" 』

[eliecasa]

summary: reader see’s a man spank a box on tiktok & it awakens a monster

warnings: minors i know I said I wouldn’t but we all lie as humans. this is one of those times where you mustn’t interact, plss ( contains these mentions: asphyxiation, verbal, and spanking kinks ) the reader is mentioned to have a vagina.

wrdcnt: 2K

inspo

A small huff of frustration pushed from your nostrils as you’re once again opening your eyes to stare out into the rainy darkness of the night. The sight is usually lovely and heart-warming as it was Simon’s wish to live somewhere with nature all the while staying a generous 20 minutes away from the city. It’s quiet here but there’s a memory that echoes loud and vibrantly in the back of your mind.

Simon sat still, sleeping as quiet as a mouse as you squeezed your eyes shut and subtly rubbed your thighs together. If you’d never downloaded tiktok, you’ll probably be sound asleep and dreaming of a dog handing you something as strange as a sweater with your own face sewn into it. Soap suggested that it be a good idea to keep a good balance of humor and seriousness since Simon would be left alone to tease you without anyone else jumping in to defend you, and the only way to do that was to give in and download the god-forsaken TikTok app.

Oh how you wish you’d never listened to him.

The first thing you’re greeted with is a video of a buff man underhand smacking a box to fit evenly with the others atop and below it. It came immensely loud from your headphones and caused a barely-audible yelp to part your lips. Your first thought was to get out of there so, you did… by scrolling one video down as Simon came over from the kitchen and asked what was wrong. And of course, having lacked a good answer, you merely waved him off and cleared your throat, saying that your headphones were accidentally turned to maximum volume.

He squinted those dark and suspicious eyes before humming and going back to make dinner- which was the deal for an old bet that he lost. Anyway, you’re instantly back on the video and fluttering with little butterflies of heat and embarrassment… that was until you opened the comments and saw that everyone else was thinking the same. Even married people were saying things such as “I try to get my husband to do this but he doesn’t know manual labor too well” which tickled you a little bit.

Though you were laughing at the time, you found yourself staring at Simon’s hands a bit longer than usual as the two of you ate dinner together. Don’t be mistaken, Simon had done nearly everything you desired with those strong pair of hands but still, that new seed planted in your head was quickly taking over and growing vines up and down the walls of your busy mind.

“What’s on your mind?” He said after watching you daydream for five minutes. It almost seems deliberate as he moved to hide his hands underneath the table. Classic Mr. RIley.

“...Nothin’,” you shrugged, connecting your gaze before promptly taking a good chunk of spanish rice.

Simon paused and did that empty stare where he kinda just assessed you before going back to whatever business he was originally doing. The judgemental gaze causes the slightest of shame to boil your skin as you roll your eyes. He’s your husband and has seen and touched every nook and cranny of your body and for some reason, you don’t want to tell him what’s bothering you.

Fast forward back into the present. The fluffy white comforter seems to get unbearably hot just as the heat radiating from Simon does. Sex and experiment is no taboo between the two of you and your coyness was just overall pitiful, however, that small little angel in your head keeps saying “Well, you have to really ask yourself if he’s the type to wound his loving spouse” while the devil said “Tell him to throw you over his lap and spank you like that goddamn cardboard!”

Again, you rub your thighs together. Maybe your mind was turning into one of those awful hormone monsters from a show that shall not be named. A small sound of anger escaped your mouth as you try to clear your mind, knowing that Simon would get woken–

“Having a strop, are ya’?” His heavy voice felt heavy and trapping as you knew that this was the most reasonable time to just get it over with.

Almost too quickly, you flip in his arms and lock eyes with him. Well, he was still waking up but your patience led you to gently pinch various areas of his face before he’s basically stretching his neck to be freed.

“Fuckin’ stop will ya?”

“Why haven’t you ever gotten rough with me?”

In the moonlight that shows through your windows, you can see the way that Simon’s face bunches into one handsome twist of confusion and tiredness. His eyes slowly open to look at the ceiling before he turns his head and stares dead into your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Your right hand moved back a couple of inches and came back to gently slap him as his face remained cradled in your hands. A small chuckle escapes him before he pinches your thigh.

“Why’re you kicking my ass instead of explaining–”

“I obviously mean- like during sex,” you spoke with the tiniest amount of annoyance in your voice as the sexual frustration was beginning to plague.

The hand on your thigh rested as his face relaxed.

“I do… it was your idea to get into the choking thing-”

“No! I mean- yes that but why don’t you ever hit me?”

He seems to relax into the pillows a bit more as his eyes darted back to the white and plain ceiling. Simon was taking a moment to actually think if he’s never done such since it seems like a problem that could have been bothering you for who knows how long. Maybe you were doing that classic tactic of trying to alter his memory for your own benefit. There’s been multiple times where you’d lay on top of him and ask when was the last time he’d give you proper praise despite him clearly remembering it happening two days ago. He tilts his head, thinking of the past five months. The two of you had gotten into a couple new positions, areas to have sex, as well as experimenting with verbal kinks. Not to mention that asphyxiation kink that appeared to stay and make an appearance during each session.

“Simon!”

“I know, I know… just making sure you aren’t lying,” he said, casually sitting up to turn on the blinding light next to the bed. You try not to grab him as he moves from over you to settle back and rub his eyes.

“What needs to be done to get you sound, eh?”

A lightning bolt strikes as you pretend to think as if Apollo was saying “Don’t you dare waste that man's time, Y/N.”

So, instead of pissing anyone off, you decide you sit on your knees and face Simon with your chin up and your shirt covering your sweaty palms that were hidden underneath the oversized fabric. You’re ex-military and you’re especially all but a coward. Simon Riley will not stop you from reaching your dreams.

“I want you to start…” your lips twist in the slightest as you try to find the right words just to settle on “spanking me…”

He tries not to seem surprised but the smallest raise of his eyebrows gave it all away.

“Today,” you finish, almost coming off stern and unmovable.

Many would disagree with this but you could say that Simon had very telling eyes and right now, he was not only questioning just how freaky you were as well as how much of a possible masochist you were underneath that loving and soothing base of your personality. The asphyxiation thing was brought up during sex so he couldn’t really so no to you in the heat of the moment but now you’ve caught him fresh out of an innocent sleep.

“Are you… sure?--”

“Simon,” you dare, looking away for a second before shaking your head at his timidness.

He wasn’t following the script; you’d admit that you wanted to be spanked and he would pat his lap and get to work. That’s how it was supposed to go! However, Simon wanted to play the long game and see how long he could drag this until the sun began to rise.

“Why didn’t you say this instead of staring at my hands the entire meal?”

“Who the hell would just come out and say ‘Hey, mind hitting my ass when we fuck’?”

A small smile spreads his pink lips as his shoulders momentarily hunch.

“You’re not shy any other time.”

For the 800th time, your pupils roll to the back of your head. As you’re shaking your disappointed little head, you pause to see that the storm seems to calm down a bit, instead turning into a windless pour that wouldn’t wake anyone if they were sleeping. The silence left you no choice as Simon indeed began to follow the script written in your head.

“Guess we’d better get to trying before you’re all snappy then,” his heavy mancunian accent coming loudly as he stood up and stretched.

The movement caught your attention and glued it onto his strong thighs. Simon was a brief type of guy— which was honestly a bit surprising when you first discovered it. The soft fabric remained comfortably on his strong thighs that would soon have you stretched across them.

There’s a couple of heavy steps across the bedroom floor before he settled on the front of the bed and in front of the black screen of the television.

“Are you serious?” you purse your lips, crawling towards him as he looks at you from over his shoulder.

Instead of being verbal, he jerks his head to coax you over as a barely-noticeable smile squints his eyes.

And be damned; you were over there in no time. But instead of instantly giving you what you wanted, Simon couldn’t help but tease you a while longer. Only now do you wish he was a quick mover that despised roleplay. Your hips jump a little as two of his slightly-calloused fingers slid down the smooth and silk skin and dew of your cunt.

“Why the long face, doll?” He laughed, taking a glance at the way your lips and eyes were tightly closed shut.

“Do your thing, Simon,” you spoke quickly to muffle a sound of pleasure by covering your mouth and turning away from his eyes-view.

“I just wanted to feel you a little bit, no harm done,” he gently slapped your soppy cunt before lifting your shirt to bunch around the waist. Tonight, you were just wearing a normal pair of lace panties without the partner of a bra. Bras are vibe killers and the world could do without. Plus– it gives your lover easier access to rest or warm his hands when he’s bored.

Anticipation made the fabric become nearly insufferable as the room seemed to double in heat.

“Keep these on?”

You thought, looking at the shiny oak of your bedroom floor before giving him a muffled response.

“I don’t mind them staying on.”

As so, his ring finger released your panty and turned into a palm that smooths over the entirety of your plump ass. The feeling of Simon’s hands on your bum had often aroused you more than it probably should have. He’s never spanked you but he's grabbed it and caressed it as often as you allowed. The way he’d squeeze long enough to make it hurt had always brought out the bedroom hormones even though sometimes he would do it somewhere other than the comfort of your home. anything that made you feel like his was enough to keep it wet for hours.

“What are you waiting fo-AH!” you nearly turn into a flailing mess before your hands quickly resettled onto Simon’s strong thigh which was trembling with amusement.

For someone who was wary of hitting you, he’d come down really heavy handed. You’re a first-timer, it wouldn’t have killed him to at least warn you. However, the hot and stinging feeling is an arousal-multiplying sensation that has your mouth feeling a little numb and your adrenaline flowing.

Your eyes nearly comically blow wide as the two of you make eye-contact, Simon’s face being one of subdued delight as you gently pant out.

“Do. That. Again.”

[annwrites]

I will find you.

— pairing: simon x fem!reader

— type: one-shot

— summary: simon was your dad's best friend, & after your father's death, was tasked with looking after you. the two of you found solace in each other, until you were separated. you reunite when he one day shows up in alexandria w/ the saviors

— tags: age gap, traveling, angst, falling in love

— tw: major trauma bonding, hate sex, p in v sex, choking, degradation, humiliation, m receiving oral, slapping, spanking, hitting with a belt, abusive relationship, sex without a condom, depression, suicidal ideation

— word count: 8,408

— a/n: i am aware i switched tenses incorrectly a few times in this. i edited it some, but am leaving things as-is for now. this is simply who i am (someone who can't get her tenses fucking straight) lmao

You had intended to be in your house before the saviors pulled in, but you'd been late coming back from the pantry—you'd been helping Olivia take inventory, and had simply lost track of time.

You keep your head down, trying your utmost to remain invisible as you round a street corner, your home within eye-sight.

The street in front of it? Crawling with saviors. You pray that, so long as you seem harmless enough, they'll leave you be.

You've nearly reached your front porch when you stop dead in your tracks, an all-too familiar voice echoing off the houses.

"Alright, everybody knows the drill: spread out and half of everything. Negan wants a thorough cleaning done this time around. He's a bit concerned the 'fine residents' here might be holding out on us."

You stare at the back of his head—his thick cropping of dark-brown hair—then to his tall frame, strong shoulders, thick tanned arms.

No. He...he was dead.

You'd denied that truth to yourself for months, wanting to believe anything but. And then you'd come to accept it, knowing you had no other choice if you were to go on living. Or trying to, at least.

You shake your head. You're just hearing things. But you still silently plead for him to turn so you can see for yourself that it's not really him.

He settles his hands on his hips.

You take a tiny step closer. "Simon?"

You're so quiet when you say it that you barely even hear yourself.

Another step closer. "S-Simon?" Your voice has risen now, considerably, your tone almost panicked.

He slowly turns to face you and at first when his eyes settle on you, he stills. Then, "Oh, baby girl."

You break into a run, slamming against his solid chest and he quickly picks you up. You wrap your legs and arms around him, crying tears of joy, running your fingers through his hair.

"I found you. I found you. You're alive!"

You crush your lips to his, and you kiss him so long and so fervently, that when you finally pull away you're forced to draw in ragged breaths.

He nearly falls, stumbling as he lowers the two of you to the warm pavement, you in his lap, peppering his face with kisses as he laughs.

Neither of you see your people, or his staring at the two of you, some with jaws dropped in utter shock.

All you see is each other.

He slides his hands under the back of your shirt. "Oh, sweetheart, I thought..." He shakes his head, willing those horrible fucking thoughts from his mind. "Doesn't matter. You're here. You're safe. Alive and healthy."

You nod fervently. "I can't believe you're here."

Tears shimmer in your eyes and he removes one of his hands from your bare skin he'd missed touching so goddamn much to brush them away.

"I'm here, baby girl."

You press yourself against him, his own arms holding you in a tight embrace, terrified of ever letting you go again.

After the world fell apart, you, Simon, and your dad had been on the road together. You watched as they gradually changed right before your eyes. As the smiles and laughing and jokes they used to easily share over BBQs and working on cars disappeared and were instead replaced by paranoia, anger, dejectedness.

You grew more and more quiet as time went on. You had no idea how to survive something like this, whereas they got the three of you by alright. Hunting and scavenging. Even killing, once it became necessary.

You still remembered the first time Simon ever shot someone.

You'd been looting supplies from a local grocery store, which had, unfortunately, already been pretty-well picked over. You had wandered into the back when you'd felt a pair of arms wrap around your middle and throw you down on the floor. You'd only had enough time to scream as loud as you possibly could before a boot met the soft flesh of your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. It took you so long to catch your breath, you were afraid a lung had collapsed.

The only thing you saw when you finally looked up, was a very brief glimpse of his face before a bullet went through his head, blood spraying outward before he fell forward—dead.

Simon had kneeled down next to you, pulling you against his chest as you began to cry. "Baby girl, I'm sorry."

You'd never clung to him before like you did in that moment.

You didn't know what it was—gratefulness, trauma bonding, the fact he made you feel safe—but after that day, you began to look at him differently.

You were in your early-twenties, so no longer a child, but obviously now was not the time to admit some girlish crush on your dad's best friend. You felt mortified that you felt that way in the first place. Especially when you looked at the new state of the world around you.

But as the three of you walked, you couldn't help but admire his tall stature, broad shoulders and strong chest, the veins in his rough hands, the way he carried himself. Even his voice.

He'd only caught you staring once or twice, to which you'd always looked quickly away.

He had thought nothing of it.

He didn't think of you like that. Never had. He'd known you your entire life.

You were okay with nothing more ever coming from whatever it was that you felt. It was just nice to feel something other than fear for once.

Until grief consumed you when your dad died.

He'd gotten bit and forced the two of you to leave him behind. You'd begged and pleaded to stay with him, out of your mind with denial. You told him he'd be okay. You'd find medicine—something—and he'd be okay. He had to be. He was your whole world. You couldn't live without him. Couldn't live in a world where he no longer existed. That you'd never stand a chance of surviving without him there to protect you.

He'd told you that he loved you. That you were his whole heart and the best thing he ever did. That he was proud of you.

That Simon would take care of you from now on.

Simon had had to pull you away, even if you'd fought against him with everything you had, until you had relented, for your dad. It was his last wish.

You'd only been walking for a handful of minutes before you heard the gunshot.

After, your feelings constantly rotated through anger, grief, mourning, depression, hopelessness, rage...it took a long, long time to try and accept that your dad was gone. Even just barely.

You and Simon didn't talk much at first. Neither of you knew what to say. Maybe you had nothing left to say.

He did as your dad had asked of him: he protected you, kept you safe and fed. You tried to contribute as best you could, even if you didn't see the point. That's how you both felt. But you kept going for him.

Sometimes you resented your dad for it. Because all you wanted to do sometimes was lie down and give up.

The first time it happened was nearly three weeks later. The two of you had been lying on your sleeping bags, you staring up at the stars, head empty, apart from one thought.

It hadn't been about lust. Hadn't been about your crush that you'd forgotten about as soon as that biter had latched onto your dad's shoulder.

It had been about...working something out of yourself. You didn't have many options in terms of working out your problems—you couldn't exactly start firing off rounds out of anger; it'd waste ammo you didn't have, not to mention what it might attract. You couldn't expend your energy trying to hunt down biters that might bring you to the same fate as your father.

"Do you want to have sex?"

You weren't sure whether you hoped he was awake or not.

"No." Had been his immediate answer.

But you decided not to listen. You stood, walking over to him, lying down next to him, trying to press yourself against him, reaching down, trying to find his cock, even if it was flaccid.

He'd promptly rolled over, turning his back to you. "Go the fuck to sleep."

"No," you repeated back at him. Then you'd slid your hand along the side of him. "Please," you'd whispered, your voice pleading.

He'd remained silent. "Please, Simon. Please."

He'd growled, rolling back to his other side, hand coming up to wrap firmly, but gently around your throat. "I said get away from me."

Undeterred, you'd reached down, finding him hard. You'd gently squeezed his erection over his pants and his grip around your throat had tightened. "Stop it."

You did it again, palming him. "Please."

"I don't have any goddamn condoms. Are you stupid?"

When had he grown to hate you so much? You didn't care. You hated him, too. It should've been him instead. At least if it had been, your dad would still be here.

"I don't care," you'd craned your neck toward him, trying your utmost to press your lips to his, but he'd held firm.

He studied you for a moment, the look on his face hard, if not nearly irate.

Finally, he pulled you toward him, crushing his lips to yours so hard that it hurt. He'd grown a thick beard by this point, no longer seeing the point in shaving. The wiry hairs scraped against your soft skin, but it didn't matter. You knew: you wanted the pain. Wanted more of it.

He'd climbed on top of you, roughly pulling against his belt, unzipping his jeans, and then his erection sprang free. He scooted higher until his cock was directly in your face. "This what you want? Huh? Whole world fuckin' gone to shit and this is what's on your mind?" His voice was raised, breaths ragged, and all you could do in response was nod.

He'd gripped the back of your head, fingers tangling painfully in your hair as he forced your mouth down the full length of him.

You gagged as he shoved himself further down, using both hands to fuck himself inside your mouth.

The only sounds to fill the previously silent forest were you gagging for air—gagging against him—him grunting and moaning.

Drool covered the length of him, the salty taste of pre-cum coated your tongue.

You looked up to him, desperate for him to slip out of you long enough to let you get a breath of air.

Instead, he’d looked down. “You wanna breathe?”

You’d done your best to nod, despite his hands holding you firmly down on him.

He shoved himself further in, your nose pressed against his stomach. “Take it. Fucking all of it. Swallow it.”

You’d choked against him—his thick length filling your throat. Tears stung your eyes and you felt dizzy, black spots filling your vision.

Finally, he pulled out and you drew in a long, ragged gasp of air. His thick cock hung before you, covered in spit and dripping cum.

He grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers, stroking his cock with his free hand. “Open your fucking mouth. Now.”

You did. Wide, sticking out your tongue.

He sneered.

You wondered if it was in disgust. You felt the same toward yourself. Not even you understood what had come over you. What the hell you were doing.

You didn’t care to think long enough on it to try and find out. All you wanted was his cock back in your mouth so you could focus on sucking him off instead.

He shoved himself back in and laughed. Laughed. “Looks like daddy’s 'good little girl' isn’t so fucking good after all.” He gripped your hair again, bobbing your head against him over and over. “Fucking whore.”

You choked on him again, but he'd merely kept going. “Finally found a use for you. All this time looking after you and for what? Risking my ass to keep yours fed? Guess I found my repayment.”

He slipped out until only the tip of him was on your tongue, then plunged back in so hard that it had hurt.

“Swallow my fucking cock, you stupid slut.”

You circled your tongue around him as best you could and his hips jerked. “Do it again.”

You did as you were told and he moaned.

He slipped himself out of your mouth once more, then stood. “Take off your goddamn clothes.”

You couldn't get undressed fast enough.

Once the two of you had not a stitch of clothing on you, you spread your legs apart and he snorted. He then got on his knees, grabbed you roughly by the hips, and flipped you onto your front side, your ass in the air. He used one hand to direct himself inside of you—shoving himself into your cunt in one swift motion, which made you cry out in pain—the other pushing your head into the dirt.

“You made me do this,” he said each word between rough grunts.

As he pounded into you brutally from behind, all you could think was how good it felt to finally do so: feel.

Something.

Anything.

Even that, even pain. Even humiliation.

It didn't take long for his climax to build, and when he finished, it was all over your back, his cum warm...and there was so much of it. You'd briefly wondered when he last came. Then you'd thought how you didn't really care.

When he fell back on his ass, he'd taken a moment to look at your gaping red hole, satisfied with his work. He didn't give a shit if you'd finished as he dressed himself.

You stood, doing the same after cleaning him off of you.

Neither of you spoke another word to the other before lying down and both of you falling quickly to sleep.

When you woke the next morning, it’d been to a new soreness between your legs, but it felt good.

Simon glanced to you every few moments, and you didn't know it, but he’d been filled with complete fucking guilt. How could he have done that? Have spoken to you like that? You were such a good girl. Innocent, sweet. He’d been so fucking rough with you. Had…had that been your first time? Did you consider it a mistake? Or something worse? Something so terrible he couldn't even think the word.

“We should talk about last night.”

You didn't even look at him, but you did roll your eyes. “No.”

“Y/N,” he said, taking a step closer to you.

You felt disgusted by the guilty tone of his voice.

You looked up to him. “I wanted to get fucked and you gave it to me. We don’t need to talk. About anything. Got it?”

You started heading out of the woods, toward the road.

His feelings of guilt quickly fled him, instead replaced with a need to fill that foul fucking mouth again.

As the two of you traversed this road and that, you tried not to focus on whatever had happened to you—your sudden change in demeanor. It had started before last night: the feelings of absolute hate that now filled you.

Simon had gotten his release, but not you. Instead, you'd just felt sexually frustrated. You looked at him with a glare, at how relaxed he seemed, then back to the road. Prick.

You didn't know it, but when the two of you raided a pharmacy, Simon had taken nearly every single condom he could find, stuffing them into his backpack as he looked at you—thinking about all the things he wanted to make you do and do to you.

That night, after a rabbit dinner, he'd leaned back against a tree, and stared at you staring into the fire.

“Do you want to fuck?” He asked.

You looked at him and shrugged. “Sure.”

You took your time undressing, while all he bothered doing was pulling his pants down, rolling a condom over his already-hard member.

“Where did you get those?”

“Pharmacy.”

You didn't even nod in reply before straddling his lap, easing him into you with your dominant hand. You threw your head back and moaned in the back of your throat.

He gripped your hips so tightly you were sure he’d leave bruises. In fact, you hoped he would.

You'd begun to ride him, roughly, the back of his shirt scraping against the tree bark behind him. You'd reached up one hand, gripping his hair, forcing his head back, the other coming up to grip his face. You stared down at him with loathing as you looked into his eyes.

“I fucking hate you. It should’ve been you.”

You'd rode him harder, growing wetter.

He smacked your ass.

“Fuck you,” you said before crushing your lips against his.

He'd then pulled away. “Already are, you stupid slut.” He spanked you again and you clenched around him. So he did it again and again, alternating between ass cheeks.

Until, finally, he gripped both, guiding you against him as you began to bounce on his member.

When you came, it was so overpowering that you had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming in ecstasy. You drew blood.

He followed shortly after, your tight walls clenching, encouraging him toward the edge.

Everyday became like that. For awhile. There were times the two of you fucked up to five times a day—sometimes having to stop in the middle of a road, or doing it up against a tree, him rutting away behind you, hand fisted in your hair as filthy obscenities spilled from his mouth.

Once, you did it against the counter of some office you’d looked through—your feet dangling, your stomach flat against the countertop as the edges pressed painfully into your ribs, him fucking himself inside of you, telling you how pathetic you were, both of you cumming twice and loudly.

Another time, you’d been in a store and had knocked the shelf he’d been fucking you against over, your legs wrapped around his hips, both of you completely naked. You had been so wet it’d gotten all over your thighs and stomach. He’d mocked you relentlessly the entire time about it, about how disgusting it was that you could get that turned on when you’d just watched him kill a bunch of rotting, walking corpses outside. That you were truly fucked in the head now.

A number of nights he fucked you much like the first one—into the dirt, refusing to look at you, or teasing you with his cock, telling you that you didn’t deserve it until you proved that you really needed it. He made you do humiliating things to earn it, like tell him your most depraved fantasies. And then he used them against you when you least expected it.

But he always made them come true. Always. Those were the times the both of you came the hardest.

One time, you’d come across an abandoned neighborhood. He’d selected a house for you to stay in while he scavenged nearby.

When he returned, you’d been in the master bedroom, ass in the air, hand between your thighs as you rubbed away and fingered yourself.

He’d loudly dropped his bag, but you had barely given a reaction at his presence behind you. Other than slightly turning your head back to him, never stopping with rubbing your dripping cunt, and telling him to “get out”.

He’d walked over to the closet, found a satin tie and climbed onto the bed behind you.

You’d stopped touching yourself then as he leaned over you, breath hot against your ear as he told you lowly “this is what happens when you play with toys and don’t share with others”.

He’d bound your wrists together, then knotted the tie around the wrought-iron headboard.

He’d found another tie and yanked your head back. “I don’t want to fucking hear that foul mouth while I fuck you. Turns me off.”

Even though you knew otherwise.

He didn’t gag you with it until you nodded your head.

Finally, he’d climbed off the bed, breathing raggedly, heart pounding as he removed his belt.

“I’m going to spank you with this, little girl, and I’m not fucking stopping until I’ve broken skin. Do you understand me? It’s time you learn a lesson.”

You looked back to him, erection bobbing between his legs, then to his leather belt and then to him.

You nodded again.

“Let’s start then.”

He wailed against your bottom hard enough to make you cry out in pain and tears sprang to your eyes.

He huffed. “Not hard enough. Guess I need to try again.”

He brought the belt back down and you choked against the tie.

“Still not hard enough.” He walked around to the side of you and squeezed your face in his hand. “Maybe I should put my back into it. What'd’ya say, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly.

He studied you for only a moment before walking back behind you and bringing the belt down as hard as he could.

You screamed in agony that time.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” was the last thing he said before you heard his belt clatter to the floor and the mattress dipped behind you and he plunged his throbbing erection between your dripping folds. “Oh yeah, much fucking better.”

He fucked you brutally that night. You’d been in tears the entire time, drooling against that tie, snot running down your face and you were so wet you could hear it.

And your ass hurt horribly as he pounded into you from behind.

“You like that, you needy little cunt? Hm? That what you wanted from me? You wanted me to fucking hurt you? God, you’re so fucked up.”

You clenched around him.

“Jesus Christ, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

You clenched again. And then he fucked you harder.

After coming once, he’d tossed the used condom on the floor before walking around and untying your mouth. He smirked at the sight of the pillow below you, even your breasts, covered in spit and drool.

“Open your hole.”

You opened your mouth, wide, and he shoved himself in.

Your lips closed around him and the both of you moaned.

You bobbed your head against him, hollowing your cheeks, sucking as hard as you could, swirling your tongue around him.

He leaned back, his cock jamming against the back of your throat before standing straight again. He gripped the hair at the top of your head, forcing your eyes to look up at him standing over you, the tie around your wrists pulling tightly. “This is all you’re fucking good for, you dumb bitch. Having your holes fucked. This is the only use for that pretty little mouth. I can’t stand a single goddamn word that comes out of it. The sound of you sucking me off is so much better.”

He slips out, quickly grabbing your face, slapping you with his other hand. “Open, slut.”

You did and he forced your mouth back down. “I’m startin’ to get bored with that disgusting overused pussy. Maybe I’ll just fuck your ass next.”

You whimper, liking the sound of that.

“You like that, you nasty bitch?”

You suck harder.

“Yeah, I bet you do.”

He slips out of your throat again and you whine, looking up at him as he jacks himself off for a moment. Then he slaps you again and again. “Open. Open your fucking mouth.”

He brutally fucks the back of your throat, using both hands to control your head movements.

He doesn’t stop until you’re choking on his cum. He then unties your wrists

He puts on another condom, even though you feel exhausted. He eases into you from behind, wrapping your hair around his fist and he fucks you one last time, holding your backside against his front, palming your breasts, pulling painfully against your nipples.

He reaches down, slapping his palm against your clit and you cry in pain.

“Good. Keep crying. It makes my fucking dick hard.”

He does it again, then wraps his hand around your throat, gently squeezing. You clench around him and he squeezes harder.

“Mm, please.”

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear you talking. You want me to lose my erection?”

He reaches around, shoving his fingers in your mouth and you suck on them.

“Good little whore. Just like that.”

It’s only a few moments later when your breathing becomes more ragged, you begin clenching more quickly around him.

“You’re fucking close aren’t you? Go ahead, then. Come on my cock. Do it, you nasty fucking cunt.”

And you do. And you cry as it washes over you, fucking yourself back against him, riding out your high. Riding him.

He follows right after, shoving you face-first down into the mattress, not stopping until he’s satiated. He then gets off the bed, walking into the adjoining bathroom and returning with a couple towels. He tosses one at you.

“Clean yourself up.”

You wipe yourself off. Your face, your backside, your pussy and once you’ve deemed yourself clean enough, you lie down.

Simon had tossed his dirty towel in the bathtub and when he returns to the bedroom, you’re lying on top of the covers trembling, quietly crying, curled in on yourself.

He lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and you quickly sit up, pushing him away. “Get off of me! Get the fuck away from-”

He grabs you, forcing your arms down to your sides. “Stop fighting me and let me fucking hold you.”

You hang your head and begin to sob.

He tentatively wraps you in his arms again before pulling you into his chest. He pulls the covers back, settling them over you. He brings one hand up to very gently massage your head. “Just close your eyes. Get some rest,” he says it quietly against the dark of the room.

He pulls you impossibly closer and you fall asleep like that, breathing in the scent of him, counting the steady rises and falls of his chest.

When you wake in the morning, it’s to the feeling of Simon’s hands rubbing something cool and slippery on your ass.

You’d eventually, at some point in the night, rolled over onto your stomach, which was how you were laying now.

You try to sit up, but he grips the backs of your thighs. “Hold still.”

You look back at him. “What the hell are you doing? What is that?”

“Triple antibiotic. And lotion. Should’ve cleaned my fucking belt off before I used it on you.”

Your brows furrow. “Why?”

“To make sure you don’t get a goddamn infection. Fuck knows what’s gotten on it over time-”

“Who cares?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid.

You continue. “Who gives a shit if I get an infection, Simon? You should want that anyway. You’d finally be rid of me.”

He frowns and you roll your eyes, turning away from him.

“Means I’d have to find a new fuck toy. And the market isn’t exactly booming.”

You roll your eyes again.

Finally, he stands, walking around to the side of the bed and he sits. He squirts some lotion onto his hands, then reaches toward your face, which now has finger-shaped bruises.

You flinch away and he freezes.

He gently reaches toward you again, rubbing it into your cheeks, making sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

You’d spent the rest of the day in the house, lying on your stomach for most of it, far too sore to sit down. That night, you and Simon had eaten some jars of Chef Boyardee for dinner. And you’d fallen asleep with him holding you once again, even if you’d told him to fuck off somewhere else. That you hated when he touched you unless you were fucking.

You ignored your body slowly wrapping around his for warmth.

After that night, he never slapped you during sex again and grew angry whenever you asked for it. Not even taunting him got him to do it.

Eventually, the sex grinded to a halt. It became a couple times a day, then once, then every other day, then every other week.

You told him you’d grown bored of him. That his cock just didn’t do it for you anymore. He told you he felt likewise, that he’d used you all up, stretched you out. Wished he had a tighter cunt to play with.

You said horrible things to each other until you stopped speaking altogether.

And then you stopped eating.

And he stopped caring whether you did.

You killed walker after walker, hating every one you laid eyes on.

He told you you’d become a little monster yourself.

You told him you hated him and hoped he died and became one of them.

He told you likewise. At least he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore.

And then had come the night when something inside of you broke.

You’d been doing…quite badly for awhile. Each day got worse. You no longer felt angry. You didn’t feel anything. All you thought all day long were horrible things about yourself. And then you felt it: you were worse than the walkers. He’d been right: you were a monster.

And he’d be better off if you were gone.

So you’d left while he slept, leaving everything behind with him, minus a knife to kill with.

You decided you didn’t care anymore what happened to you. You knew he wouldn’t look for you.

Until he found you, out of his mind with anger at what you’d done. You’d merely stood there numbly as he yelled at you, telling you how fucking stupid you were, asking if you had any idea what could’ve happened to you.

You didn’t respond.

And then he’d finally opened his eyes and saw what he’d turned you into.

You looked just like them: a walking corpse. A shell of the girl you once were. Your eyes were completely empty and it fucking terrified him.

When he tried to touch you, you'd flinched, afraid.

You told him to kill you.

He refused. And then cried. You’d just stood there and watched.

He’d got on his knees and begged for your forgiveness for the things he’d done to you. Had pressed his forehead against your stomach, his trembling hands holding onto your hips. Had asked you to forgive those horrible things he’d said. How brutal he’d been when you had sex, using your for your body.

You said nothing in return. You didn’t care.

Not anymore.

Eventually, the two of you came across a small cottage in the woods. It wasn’t much, but there was a small garden you began to tend. You thought of dying every day, but kept breathing because he refused to give you your gun back. Or let you out of his sight.

You slowly began to gain weight again, even if food didn’t seem appetizing anymore.

You slept. A lot. Nearly all the time, really. You didn’t have interest in doing much of anything else.

Simon began to grow out his beard again—having shaved some time ago before he gave you oral once. Even if you’d insisted you didn’t mind, didn’t give a shit.

He tended a fire at night, making you both dinner, and you only traded a few meaningless words as a poor excuse at conversation here or there.

Until the night he refused to let you wallow in your misery any longer. Not without finally hearing him out.

“I’m sorry.”

You’d looked at him.

“After your dad-”

“I don’t care.”

You’d stood, tossing your blanket on the floor, but he’d gently grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap, even if you withdrew from his touch in disgust. “Please come back to me,” he’d whispered, tears in his eyes. “Please. I can’t survive this without you.”

You looked at each other. For a long time.

You knew the things he’d said before—he’d not meant any of it. You’d known that all along. Just as you’d not meant the things you had said to him. You’d both just been so angry. So lost. You needed someone—anyone—to take it out on.

Sometimes it felt good when you hurt him. Even just for a second. You tried to ignore when the guilt set in.

He reached up then, cupping your cheek, and you let him.

He rubbed his thumb along your lower lip. Then leaned up and kissed you. So, so carefully.

And then he did it again. And again. He gently gripped your hips. “I want you. So please…”

You’d stood, taking his hand. “How?”

He’d nodded to the floor, the plush rug before the hearth. “Here.”

He’d slowly undressed you. Before he removed each item of your clothing, he’d looked at you, asking silently for permission. And you’d granted it each time.

And then he began to undress himself, until you sat up, your hands resting over his.

He let you take over without a second thought.

Once the two of you were naked, you explored his body with your hands. The hard planes of his abdomen had now softened a bit and you smiled slightly to yourself at that, for some reason liking it. And then you lightly touched his hips, his thighs, his calves. You reached up and gently tugged against his beard.

“Do you want me to get rid of-”

You’d promptly shaken your head before softly pressing your fingertips against his cheeks, then brows.

You pressed your lips to his, then laid back on the floor.

He’d leaned over you, softly cupping your cheeks, tracing your lips, then running the palm of one hand down the plane between your breasts, down your stomach, then gently squeezing your hips, touching your thighs. He planted kisses to your knees.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d whispered.

You didn’t believe it, but you believed that he did.

He’d lain his body over yours, gripping himself in his hand. “I’d like to make love to you.”

You suddenly realized you’d never done that before. It’d always been so violent and angry when the two of you joined your bodies together.

You reached down, taking him into your hand instead and you guided him into you.

He’d been so slow as he eased in and out of you you were sure it was going to take all night. So you’d tried to wrap your legs around him, tried to scoot closer to begin fucking yourself against him, until he’d gently pressed your hips into the floor.

That was what he had taught you sex was. He hated himself for it. What he’d done to you.

“We have all the time in the world, angel. We don’t have to rush. Not this night.”

You hadn’t understood, but you’d planted your feet back on the floor.

After some time, he’d lifted you into his lap, still deep inside of you, and gently tugged against your hips before wrapping his arms around you. You began to move against him.

He tucked some hair behind your ear. “That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that. Take your time.”

You pressed your forehead against his and whimpered.

“Shh, I’m right here. Just go slow, baby girl.”

Tears stung your eyes. That’d always been his name for you. When had he last called you it? You could no longer remember.

You laid your cheek against his shoulder, rocking your hips slowly against his, quietly crying.

Neither of you came that night. It hadn’t been about that. You’d just…enjoyed the intimacy. For hours. Until you fell asleep with him inside of you.

He’d carried you to bed, wrapping you in quilts before lying down beside you, holding you close.

You'd both slept until well after noon. When you woke, you'd traipsed into the kitchen to start cutting up some of the vegetables you'd recently harvested, Simon's shirt hanging from your frame, before you felt a pair of strong arms slowly wrapping around you from behind.

"I can do that?"

You shook your head, holding up a slice of potato, which he took from you, chewing on it. "It's ok."

So the two of you had sat and ate slices of potato covered in salt for breakfast. You didn't speak. Your only contact was one of your feet resting over his under the table.

And then you'd both gone back to bed and lied on your sides, looking into each other's eyes. Occasionally, he'd brush his fingers along the skin of your cheek, or you'd run your fingers through his beard.

Until, finally, you fell asleep again.

Everyday became like that. Eating, sleeping, few words shared between you. Communicating primarily through soft touches and gentle looks.

Sometimes it felt wrong. Because it wasn't what you were used to. Sometimes...sometimes you thought you wanted to go back to the way things were: him fucking you until you were both so raw neither of you could barely stand to walk, him continually adjusting himself trying to get comfortable as you traveled. Or fighting—saying the worst things imaginable about each other. Insulting one another's looks or short-comings or how you were in bed. Telling each other how you thought one another would die.

"You'll get bit. Only a matter of time. Fuckin' stupid enough to let it happen."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll put that gun in your mouth one night. At least I won't have to be around you anymore. Probably just let the biters have you."

Even the sex became less rough and more...violent.

Him throwing you around, you hitting him, both of you leaving bruises on the other, him pulling out your hair, you leaving him covered in deep bleeding scratch marks, hoping they'd get infected. Or at the very least leave him in pain.

You both told the other nearly every day how much you hated each other. And just how deeply. How you wish you'd never met.

And yet you still stayed together.

One night at the cottage, Simon had been sitting in a recliner, looking at the fire and you'd gotten up from bed in search of him, wrapped in a quilt, naked underneath.

You'd climbed into his lap like that, legs bent, head resting against his chest. He'd placed one hand against your back, the other in your lap, which you took in both of your own hands, amusing yourself by tracing his callouses.

He'd rocked the both of you until you fell asleep there.

You'd woken first and placed a featherlight kiss on his lips. His eyes had fluttered open.

"Hi," you'd said softly, pressing more soft kisses to his eyelids, his cheeks, his chin.

"Morning," he replies quietly. "Did you sleep okay?"

You nod, resting your head back on his chest. "Yes."

He wraps his arms around you again. "Me too."

You close your eyes for a moment, until he speaks again.

"It's okay if you tell me no. But I'd like to eventually talk about...what happened to us out there."

You lift your head and bring one of your hands up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb against it. "It's not that I don't want to. I just...don't know how."

He begins to slowly rock the two of you. "I know, baby girl. It won't...be easy. I just...I think I just need to..." he sighs. "Guess I don't either," he says with a quiet chuckle.

After eating, the two of you had gone out to sit on the porch, your feet resting in his lap as you sat on the porch swing.

He didn't look at you as he spoke, massaging your feet. "The shit I said... Maybe at the time I thought I meant it. I was just so...so pissed off all the time. I was in pain, so I wanted to cause it, too. And you were there. Every hour of every day. So I made you into my own personal punching bag. Having brutal sex with you, saying evil shit... Sometimes it made me feel better, or made me forget how much I hated myself. I never bothered to pay attention to what it—I—was doing to you. Until it was too late."

You slid your feet from his hands, then climbed into his lap, sitting on his thigh, your eyes looking into his own.

"Simon, I... I wanted it. The angry sex...I asked you for that. I'm not a victim that you created. And I gave just as good as I got. What about the things I said...did? I missed my dad. I hated...everything. Hated just waking up in the morning. So I took all of it out on you, too."

You pressed your forehead to his. "I'm sorry. I never meant it: telling you that I wished you were dead." When you looked into his eyes, your own were shimmering with tears. "Because I would be without you. You kept me alive all that time. Despite no longer having a reason to."

You pressed your lips to his.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. "I'm sorry too, baby girl." He began to sob.

You'd cradled the back of his head as he cried for what felt like hours. And you cried with him. The two of you kept apologizing to the other over and over and over again.

He told you he never wanted to have sex like that again.

You told him you weren't sure that you ever wanted to have sex again in general.

He told you he was okay with that. Even if guilt filled him at knowing he'd made it such an ugly thing for you to endure. He wasn't entirely sure that he believed you'd wanted it like that every time. He didn't want to think about the time he'd fucked you while you were on your period, telling you how revolting you were, but that the sight of the blood turned him on, because he could imagine what it would be like to watch you die.

You had slumped into the dirty mattress he'd taken you on then and sobbed as he finished into his condom.

You'd stayed away from him for the rest of the night, crying quietly across the room.

He wanted to stick a gun in his mouth for it.

Finally, he told you he loved you. More than anything in the entire world.

And you repaid the sentiment.

He said you were meant to be together.

You agreed with that.

And you knew the reason the two of you felt that way was because of what you'd gone through together—had put each other through. No one else would ever understand the other the way you two did.

He'd carried you back into the house, just liking the feeling of you safe in his arms, and he took you to bed and laid on his side looking down at you, telling you over and over and over how much he loved you.

That he would until his heart stopped beating.

You asked him through tears to please not talk about such a terrible thing.

He'd nodded, kissing you.

Later that evening, you'd gone outside and sat in the grass side-by-side. You watched the lightning bugs all around the property, flickering here and there. And he watched you.

You ate venison that night. Simon had killed it a couple days prior, then cooked the meat. You made a vegetable soup, at least as best you could. He told you it was the best meal he'd ever had.

Sometimes when you slept, you had horribly vivid nightmares. Sometimes they were about Simon doing terrible things to you. Sometimes they were memories.

But when you woke, he always took you into his arms and promised that you were safe now. That you could close your eyes again; it was okay.

One morning, Simon had found you in front of an open window at the front of the cottage, watching birds playing in the birdbath outside. He's wrapped you in a blanket and then his arms. "What're you thinking about?"

You laid your head back against him. "I keep waiting for this to end. For one of us to die, or for me to wake up and find out this was all just a dream. For us to go back to the people we were. Or for this place to get overrun or be taken from us. Nothing good lasts anymore."

"We've made it this far."

At what cost, you'd thought.

He'd brought his lips close your ear. "Maybe we can try and make this our new home?"

You'd only nodded slightly. "Maybe."

You should've never bothered.

It was a month later when a pack of four men stumbled across the cozy abode. Simon had been outside chopping wood when he heard them in the woods nearby. He'd come inside in a panic, shoving things into a bag for you.

He'd told you that you had to get out, that he'd find you.

"N-no, we can't be apart. Simon, please-"

He'd cupped your cheeks firmly. "Baby girl, you have to. We don't have time to talk about this. I will find you. I will find you, but you have to leave now."

They were now pounding on the front door.

"Slip out the back and I'll distract them while you run. Sweetheart, no matter what you do, do not stop running. And if you come across another person, kill them. Don't trust anyone."

"How will you-"

"We know someone is in there! C'mon out. Just want to talk. Nice lil' place you got here. Ain't no place this nice without a woman's touch." You heard some laughing and your bowels turned to water.

He crushed his lips to yours then. "I love you. Now go."

You spent weeks alone on the road after. Every time you heard a twig snap in the forest or the sound of a bird's wings taking flight, you'd jerked in this direction or that one, uttering his name, praying he'd finally done as he'd promised and found you.

But that never happened.

The both of you had only just begun to mend what had broken between the both of you and then...you were torn apart.

You were forced into being strong, no longer having him to rely on for survival. You scavenged on your own, took down walkers on your own, built your own fires.

Even despite how much you had grown to despise each other, he'd still made sure to teach you the necessities. And you loved him all the more for it.

Every day you spent wandering aimlessly.

Until one evening, you came upon large steel walls and a gate. You'd only just looked up long enough to see someone aiming a rifle at you before you blacked out.

And when you'd come to, it'd been like you'd been dropped into a whole new world.

Acclimating to Alexandria had been...difficult. You kept everyone at arm's length, and walked by that gate every day, considering going back out there. Perhaps permanently.

Until you adjusted, which had taken a long while to come around to.

You'd only told Deanna half-truths during your initial interview. And you knew that she knew that you were withholding half of your story. She told you as much. Then told you she was okay with it. She understood.

You'd cried.

And then she'd given you a job, helping with the pantry. She said it was, at the very least, something which would help occupy your time and hopefully take your mind off of whatever you'd endured out there.

And so you went to work every day. Olivia was cordial with you. Nice even. She understood you didn't want to make friends. So you worked in amicable silence.

And you slowly began to make the house you'd been given into a home.

Had started taking daily walks around Alexandria. You'd never know it, but Deanna watched you some days, a small smile on her face.

One afternoon, Spencer had been waiting on your porch for you when you got back. He'd asked you to sit, then nervously asked you over to dinner, offering to make anything you wanted.

You'd turned him down. Told him you were still in love with someone else. And that that fact would never change.

He'd pushed further, telling you that whoever he was was gone now. That you could move on and not have to feel guilty about it.

You'd stood without another word and slammed the door in his face.

He didn't try again after that.

You didn't want to consider his words as being true: that you'd never see Simon again. You didn't want to think he was...dead.

That one small conversation had sent you into a spiral. One where all you could think were the horrible things you'd put him through. What if he was gone and the last thing that went through his mind was you telling him that he deserved it?

You'd started volunteering to go on runs then. And you looked for him everywhere, but never found him. Not a trace.

Until he found you.

Once you and Simon finally stood, breathless from kissing, you'd firmly twined your fingers between his and led him inside your house, locking the door behind you.

He'd carried you upstairs to your bedroom and the two of you couldn't get undressed fast enough.

You'd made love repeatedly. Had said all those things you should've before. Had told each other of the things you'd done and been through while apart.

Simon had promised you'd never ever be parted again. That he would either stay in Alexandria, or you would come back to the Sanctuary with him. But going back out there...it wasn't an option.

Eventually, Simon had left you for just a moment. Long enough to go outside for just a moment.

A fellow savior had told him they were just finishing up.

He'd told them he was staying for now. And to relay a message to Negan: he finally found what he'd been looking for.

[brandnewhuman]

Ghost and König s/o headcanons pleaseee, thank you!

Dutiful lovers

♡ headcanons ♡

☆starring☆

König Dominik (cause at this point I will not stop calling him that)

Simon "ghost" Riley

Tw: mentions of Simon's past, mentions of anxiety, canon violence and talks of very inaccurate military stuff, mature language, mentions of insecurities about weight, height ecc

A/N: to think this was a very well respected slasher blog and now look at us, letting this army himbos ruin our taste. Thank you so muuuuuch for the request, I LOVE GETTING REQUEST FOR OTHER THINGS BESIDE SLASHERS CAUSE SOMETIMES I DONT REALLY FEEL LIKE WRITING FOR JUST ONE THING OR ANOTHER. Anywho I hope you enjoy it

》♡♡♡《

Simon:

This man has never felt genuine and pure love in years

I feel like if you have enough patience you could make it work with him

It took him so much time to come to terms with his feelings

He did little things tho that made you realised he cared

What made him fall for you was how resilient and kind you were

A little treat for you since you have been very good simps, just for funsies we're gonna pretend you already knew about some of the more questionable things he has done

Not his past, I mean the things that he feels bad about

You knew and you saw how he always seemed kind of scare of himself

And you always were there to remind him he was a good person

He started to do more for you in general cause he wanted to feel worthy of your kindness

He genuinely folds every time you just as much as smile at him

He knew he was deep in love when he started to have nightmares about losing you

He will try to, unconsciously, self sabotage the relationship at first

I feel like he has a history of people giving up on him because of how his past affects him and how hard it is for him to live a normal life

He's not like that great with physical affection

Not because he doesn't like it but because he doesn't knows much about it

Definitely enjoys being cuddle and being the little spoon but also likes to be able to be the big spoon too

Listen this man has been burned, shot, buried ecc he has a shit ton of scars and is very self conscious about them

Not only because of how they look but because they remind him of really fucked up stuff

So maybe at first he won't be that open about you touching him in certain points of his body but after a while it will start to make him feel much better

He swears your touch is full of literal magic

Would love to be able to cook for you but he is a public danger with those cooking skills

Can't fucking handle seeing you crying, he shuts down completely

Which makes him feel like shit because he can see how you feel let down by him not comforting you

You will literally gain scary dog rights for being with him. He death glares anything and anyone he deems bad or threatening to you

Ironically I don't think he's the possessive and jealous type

He doesn't gets jealous but he gets insecure because he always thinks about how he is "broken" and "a lot" to put up with and he kind of feels bad to drag you with him and his problems

Doesn't asks for it but needs a lot of reassuring words

He literally melts inside everytime you remind him you truly love him, that you're not getting tired of him, that you care about how he feels

He may not be one for really big demonstrations of love but he always remembers the little details

He remembers your favourite flower, he knows how you like your coffee or tea and if you don't like either he remembers your favourite drink

He knows your favourite book, movie and song

If you really pay attention he's quite romantic and attentive towards you

The good days with him are really fucking good but the bad ones are way over being just bad

He can be quite insensitive with how you feel, not because he doesn't cares tho

He never causes you harm on purpose is just that he gets really scared of getting attached

Definitely the type of person that gives you anything you say you like

You could be just complimenting a shirt of his but he just immediately gives it to you

He definitely compensates his bad traits with gifts

Weirdly enough loves to hold hands and to play with your fingers

And he loves the feeling of your hands caressing his face

If you wear any makeup he takes it off of you and would love for you to the same to him

When he's on a particularly rough mission the first thing he thinks of is you and most of the time that's what quite literally makes him survive

If you're not part of the 141 or the army in general he tries to keep you as far as possible from that part of his life

He has literal nightmares about you getting hurt because of his job

He loves to do normal everyday things with you cause it makes him feel he finally has some sort of normal and healthy life

Doesn't know how to sing but likes to sing along songs with you just because you make it look like fun

With time I genuinely think he would be more openly affectionate with you

Would tell you about his past on accident

Maybe you two were arguing about him being distant or careless when it comes to keep himself safe

One thing led to another and he said he was scared of you because he didn't want to be like his father and you told him he wasn't

Which led him to rant about how many similarities there are while unconsciously telling you about his trauma

Tbh after that things went definitely better

He feels genuinely happy only when he's with you

Loves going on car dates cause he likes to drive and talk with you about anything and everything

He could literally spend hours listening to you and looking at you with that lovestruck puppy dog eyes gaze

Sometimes he looks at you while sleeping and gets somewhere between being happy and sad

Cause he loves you literally so much it hurts and he doesn't always know how to show it to you so it just stays inside him and it aches

Doesn't want photos of you on him but always carries something like a bracelet or a necklace that doesn't have any meaning to you but it does remind him of you

He has pretty severe panic attacks and night terrors and before you he used to spend days alone in his room scared af and on the edge until he didn't force himself to shut it all down

Now he trust you won't leave him and feels so much safer and so much better knowing that you're there with him

Like I said, with time he gets so much better at doing stuff for you

He always leaves you handwritten notes (his handwriting is horrible) if he wakes up before you

Always makes sure that if you're sick or don't feel too well or if in general something hurts you get checked and get the best treatment

He's a very selfless person in that sense, he would do anything for you

If you're having like major life issues or something really big he will take a time off from work to be with you

He did it for his family and he will do it for you too

Always the first to apologise

Weirdly enough I think he likes going out and doing stuff outside with you

He especially likes to go movie hunting and has so many underground titles that are very good which he always get so excited to watch with you

König:

This man is so fucking perfect it's ridiculous

He has the looks like could kill you but it's actually a cinnamon roll kind of vibe

He was absolutely terrified of being in a relationship

He tends to put up this premade personality and has always been scared of being himself because everyone he has ever met has always told him his too much

Much like ghost no one has ever stick with him

Saying him or his problems are too much

Once you show him an ounce of love he is sold bro

This man will be yours forever and falls hard in love so don't think he will be playing around

You're the only one who gets to see the real könig and is something truly amazing

He's incredibly smart and loves to tell you cool facts about the things you like

He will quite literally fuel any obsession you may have

Makes you meet his grandma cause she's a really important part of his life and he trust you enough

He gets self conscious about his body and his appearance but would never doubt you when you say you like him and you find him beautiful

He tells you quite often how he only feels special or handsome with you and you may not get how important that is for him

He never feels like that with anyone, not even his grandma

He always feels like he takes too much space, like he's too loud or too soft

But with you he really feels like nothing can get to him

Loves to cook for you and knows every recipe that you like

He's always so proud of everything you do and brags about you with everyone and anyone

He tends to have panic attacks and mental breakdowns very easily and everytime it happens he goes to you cause he knows he can be vulnerable around you

Enjoys staying at home dates rather than going out

He loves to have book dates, as he calls them, where both of you pick a book for each other to read and comment about it

Takes very seriously any problem or difficulty you may have

He hardly needs to apologise cause he always likes to talk through things instead of just arguing

You could literally give your entire heart to this man and I can guarantee you'll never regret it

Always makes breakfast for both and if he's at home after a long mission he brings yours to bed so you can have a lazy morning

He loves to dance with you while doing house chores and definitely plays piano for you

Naps with you everywhere at any time of the day, he literally uses you as his own personal Teddy bear

He gives me gomez addams in love vibes guys

He literally can and will rip the head off of anyone who dares to say something mean to you

You're gonna have to defend him tho cause he's not doing that shit for himself

If he gets sick, he tries to bother you as little as possible and even if it breaks his heart he keeps away from you so you don't get sick too

Doesn't do the same when you're sick tho

If you're sick he will spend every minute of the day doting over you

100% celebrates anniversaries, valentines days and your birthdays as if they were world known holidays

Unfortunately I do think he would be the jealous type

Specially if you're part of the 141

If he sees you talking with ghost or hanging out with soap he will get a sickening feeling of dread in his guts

He just thinks about all the things they have that he doesn't and how much more attractive or even easier to be are the others in confront

Needs a lot of reassurance for sure

Overall he's like so sweet and so caring that it makes you feel like he has got out of some kind of disney movie

He definitely didn't asked you out but spent months staring at you with that lovestruck look

He followed your every word like a lost puppy

Never expected for you to like him, he come to terms with the fact that you might never like him like he did

Like fr guys he was happy to just be around you

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 10

Summary: Simon tries to bring you back from the edge.

Words: 2.2k

CW: Kidnapping

Simon did not know what he expected to walk into and couldn't really come up with any ideas. His mind was too clouded with the need to see you, to confirm with his own eyes you were alive. He sprinted through the forest barely tempering his reckless pace through the darkness. When he reached the cabin he barrelled in without much ceremony and locked eyes on you.

You looked smaller somehow. It wasn't a physical smallness, it was the way that fear rolled off of you in waves. You were curled against Price, willingly burying yourself into him next to the fire. All of your fight was just gone. He hated it. He hated seeing you like this.

Simon had always been a bit more realistic than the others when it came to you. He had been in your cottage after all. It was chaotic but there was so much of you that shone through in the chaos. Half finished craft projects everywhere (you were clearly passionate but lost interest easily if there was nobody to keep you on task), books neatly put away by genre and not alphabetically (he could tell you were someone who took great care with them, the type to use a bookmark instead of folding down any of the edges, and the adventure and fantasy books told him you were someone who dreamed big), several different types of tea (you must like variety).

There weren't any photos up, it had annoyed him. You didn't seem to have much in the way of loved ones but for your cat who you clearly spoiled if the cat walk lovingly built along the walls was any indication. He knew you were stubborn and had a temper, he could tell from the butchered bit of wall from where you had clearly struggled to get one of the shelves to sit straight. He knew you were messy, messy enough that it would probably get on his nerves when you lived together. 

He loved you despite it. He loved seeing your passion in every inch of that cottage. He loved seeing your wild recklessness through the well used first aid kit that was lying out ready to be used again. He loved seeing your tenderness in how Dosia had subtly blocked him from touching your hair as you slept, the little thing fiercely protective even against a predator many times her size. She loved you because you had loved her and that was a beautiful thing.

This you? Dull eyed and clinging to Price like a lifeline? It wasn't right. It didn't fit properly. He would take you kicking and hissing and biting at him over this affection born from trauma. It was the reason he never tried to use the fact it had been him that carried you out of that burning cottage against you. He didn't want a version of you that had to bend to what would make him happy. He wanted you just as you were.

Price found himself in a similar mindset. 12 hours ago he would have killed to have you like this, soft and clinging to him like he was the only thing in the world. Not like this. Not broken from fear and hypothermia. 

His heart had nearly stopped when Soap had shouted that he found you, his voice laced with panic. Him and Gaz had gotten to you as quickly as they could in the dark. You were cold and you were beyond scared, tear tracks from what must have been hours of sobbing dried onto your cheeks. You thought they wouldn't come for you. You thought you would die. 

He knew how bad it was when Johnny was crouched in front of you trying to get a response and you had just slowly, painfully slowly, leaned forward to crumple into him. He saw Soap tense for a moment before scooping you up and murmuring soft words into your hair, his accent having gotten so thick Price couldn't pick up any of the words properly. He carried you like that, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head tucked into his shoulder, back to the truck.

It was barely even a two minute walk from where you were to the road but Price was telling you how fucking thankful he was you had stayed where you were, assuring you that you had done the right thing. If you had tried to get back and went the wrong way they might never have found you. You didn't respond. 

It was like you weren't even really there. He drove and you clung to Soap in the back while him and Gaz tried to coax you to talk, but they got nowhere. It was shockingly easy to pass you between them, you were just eager to be holding a warm body, to have someone enveloping you. 

Christ they could do anything to you in this state, you'd let them do anything if it meant they wouldn't leave you. It made him want to throw up. He radioed Simon on the way back, deciding to get you inside as soon as possible rather than going to pick him up. 

It was Gaz who carried you in, he was shaking himself, looking like he was liable to fall apart at any moment. This was his team, time to be a leader. Price gently took you from Gaz's arms and softly gave instructions for him and Soap. Get warm clothes and a blanket, make tea, keep the fire going, clear the now stale brunch and get something warm and easy to eat started. 

They found it difficult to not be near you, but being near you was clearly causing them to freeze up and not know what to do, so giving them a task list helped. He settled into one of the armchairs by the fire with you, letting you hold him and tucking his chin onto your head so he was enveloping you fully, keeping you warm and safe.

“You're OK little bird, I've got you. You're safe. Not going to let anything happen to you” he said in a hushed whisper to you, half because you really did remind him of a little bird that might get spooked if he was too loud and half because a torrent of emotion that felt too big for his body was choking him up. 

Even when Simon came crashing in you didn't react. 

“What happened?”

“It's our fault Si, we didnae even see her through the windae. Got all wrapped up in whit we were doing.”

“Jesus Johnny” Simon said, seeing how he looked like he really believed this was his fault. 

Price gave Simon a look and a little nod, he had you but Simon needed to keep everyone else together, calm them down. He went over to Johnny who had a plate of cold scrambled eggs in hand, clearly was midway through getting rid of them but had frozen up. He could see the plate was shaking. 

“Wasn't anyone's fault Johnny. Hey, look at me. This was not your fault.”

He took the plate gently out of his grip and started to clean away the food. It helped Johnny to sink back into the task when Simon was there helping him. Gaz came in with clothes and a blanket and swallowed thickly when nodding a hello towards Simon, like he wanted to put off going and helping get you out of your clothes that were cold and dirty and into your cosy fresh ones. 

“You got this?”

“I- yeah, I got it. I'm solid.”

Kyle didn't really know if he believed himself but he pressed forward because he could not leave you in those clothes. 

“Can one of you bring over the first aid kit? Her feet need looked at.”

Issuing an instruction made him feel a little calmer as he gently rubbed your back, crouching a little so he could speak softly to you.

“Hey luv, it's just me, it's Kyle. Pretty name remember? Need to get you changed OK? Going to make sure you get nice and warm and comfortable” he said gently, starting to coax your hoodie and top off with Price's help. “Making you safe right? I'll always save you.”

It was agonising. You let them get you out of your clothes like it didn't bother you at all. It bothered the hell out of him. They were fast in changing you because it felt wrong that this was how you'd be naked between them. It felt awful that the brush of his hand against your breasts as he pulled clothes off and on you wasn't something that caused you to hiss at him. 

He had never been more grateful for Simon Riley is his life when the man came over once you were changed to take you from Price. He knew it was jarring for them to see you so vulnerable and bare like that, a hideous bit of lust creeping in and making the both of them hate themselves over it.

You went to him easily, far too easily given your last encounter. Price focused on getting your feet cleaned and bandaged while Gaz went to knock his forehead against Soap's, needing some sort of comfort for this whole fucked up mess. They could easily have lost you tonight. They still might. Price did give Simon somewhat of a warning look but let him say his piece as he traced patterns on your back.

“What were you thinking sweetheart?” he said, gentle but with upset simmering right under the surface. “As soon as you're feeling better we are going to have a long chat hm?”

He wanted a response from you. He wanted something. You only clung to him. He nosed at the mark still healing on your neck and you still didn't react. There was a warning growl from Price when he kissed it, but Simon gave him a firm glare. He needed you to come back no matter what it took. When he kissed a little harder he could feel the slight tense of your muscles, the hint of annoyance. 

The others noticed when you twitched as he moved to suck a mark just next to the bite and watched on, hoping against hope that it meant something. It was a good thing Simon Riley was a persistent asshole.

“Think I'll leave another mark, make your neck all pretty. That what you need? Someone to bite hard, put you in your place a little?”

You didn't really remember what happened, it was a bit of a blur. You knew that you felt warmer now and that you never, ever wanted to be that cold again. You knew that behind your heavy eyelids was a soft light and that you never, ever wanted to be in the pitch darkness again. You liked that there was something living underneath you, something warm with a strong heartbeat encouraging your own.  

Somewhere in your mind when your clothes were being taken off you thought you'd just let them have their way with you. If they would just stay close, keep you warm, keep you in the light, then you could let them. You didn't care about anything else. 

There was a spark of something when lips were pressed to the tender mark on your neck. The lips pressed harder and you dimly recognised it was Simon. He sucked a mark and you remembered what happened last time with him, felt a bubbling annoyance take over that void of feeling nothing. Hadn't you been beating yourself up thinking he was a good man and now he was right back at your throat?

You actually heard and understood words then, came back to yourself a little. This fucking jerk. It's what he had said before. Well last time you had booted him between the legs and gotten him punished so who the hell did he think he was to try again when you were being nice?!

You were straddled on his lap and bundled up in him so you couldn't do much groin kneeing. You could give him a taste of his own damn medicine though. Simon groaned low when your teeth sunk into the juncture between his shoulder and neck and then grumbled out a laugh through the sting. 

“There's my girl.”

You pulled back to find him grinning at you, seemingly not bothered at all by the indents you had left. This guy was a maniac, but fuck you were suddenly glad to see him. You were so, so terribly glad he was here and you were warm and safe. Maybe. You held his gaze, not willing to face the two men who had been casually discussing your murder. 

“I don't want to die.”

“Then don't pull stupid shit like that sweetheart.”

“Don't kill me.”

“You have my word.”

Price held a hand up to Soap and Gaz, telling them to stay quiet and let Simon handle this.

“Don't let anyone else kill me.”

“If anyone tries, I'll serve them to Dosia.”

This has been the most awful night of your life so for the sake of your own will to keep going, you chose to believe him.  

[graymanshoots]

Simon “Ghost“ Riley SFW+NSFW Headcanons…

…and quotes I found that I believe fit him. With a lil chunk of comforting fluff at the end cause the quotes are sad.

(Just a reminder that these are my personal headcanons for him. Be respectful please.)

Quotes:

SFW

- I don’t think Simon as a person is as ruthless and cold as people make him out to be. He cares a lot about the people around him and locks in when necessary. He may be wary of people when he first meets them, but with the right amount of time and good conversation, he’d definitely be a good companion.

- He keeps work separate from his personal life. The way I see it, him wearing a mask on the field is to preserve his identity and to strike fear into enemies with the skull, like it had been done for him. He doesn’t wear a mask when he’s on leave because he’s Simon then, and people are gonna see him as some random big burly dude, not a soldier when he’s just walking the street.

- I’d say he would like some semblance of a normal life outside of work. By normal, I mean being able to have relationships, maybe get married, and after a lot of convincing, maybe have a kid. If he truly was going to stay alone for the rest of his life, there wouldn’t be as much of a need for him to be so secretive about his face (especially with his background). He has nothing to lose outside of the military. Sad to say, but his entire family is dead, and as far as we know lore-wise, all of his friends are dead except for 141.

- He’s confident and cocky. He’s not shy about his looks. He knows he has attractive features, and he definitely knows his capabilities. Simon is also bigger than most men and has a body sculpted by years of military training. He’s not shy about it. I can see him getting touchy about some of his scars just because they remind him of a dark point in his life, but he also reminds himself that he’s survived through them and takes them with a bittersweet feeling.

- Simon has a lot of mental issues and seems like the type of person to want to deal with them alone. If you were his significant other (you’d obviously have to be extremely close with him to get to that point), he’d tell you about his childhood. He talks about his trauma very casually like it never really affected him, but it subconsciously still hurts to think and talk about. He’ll trauma dump to a close friend/significant other and then think, “My life is kinda messed up.” Later on.

- If he suffers from night terrors or any type of sleeping ailments, I don’t believe he’d push his significant other away. He’d probably need a moment to collect himself because he’d be pretty dangerous in situations where he’s in a panic and isn’t thinking straight, but he’d definitely want to either stay close to you or hold you once he’s somewhat calmed down. He doesn’t mind being comforted; it’s just very foreign to him because he didn’t get much of it throughout his life. When he holds you, he likes to remind himself that he does have a piece of his mother in him and he isn’t 100% a monster. The softness he holds in the deepest parts of himself, he automatically associates them as traits passed from his mom.

- Simon is a soft man. He’d be very gentle as a significant other and as a father. He doesn’t yell or ever really raise his voice unless he’s pushed to a point. But he’d never want to be seen as anything similar to his dad.

- Now he may be soft most of the time, but if someone really pushes him, he can be petty and mean. When he gets angry, he doesn’t think and says things he doesn’t mean just to hurt the other person. He wouldn’t be like this towards his children if he had any, but there are definitely times where he’s argued with his significant other and thrown out a low blow. He’s someone that needs a lot of patience.

- A bit contradictory, but he has anger issues and that’s just that. Of course, he’ll keep level as much as possible, and he doesn’t yell often, but he definitely gets upset at a lot of little things. The someone spills a drink on him on accident, he has to take a moment to calm himself. His coat catches on the doorknob, and he’s gripping the wood tightly, just standing there fuming in silence.

- Carries candy in at least one of his pockets. Seems like the type to have a sweet tooth, and he especially falls into it after getting into a relationship or having a family. He used to just eat candies whenever he had a craving for them, but with an s/o or a family, he eats them whenever he feels he needs a cig or a drink. While sugar isn’t that good for you, he’d much prefer having that than dying of lung cancer or falling into addiction like his brother. He also likes baked goods purely for the fact that they have such a potent smell and can give his dreary apartment a comforting feel when he’s alone.

NSFW (you can scroll past this if you don’t want to see these the mini fluff piece is below this I’ll have it titled bold)

-He’s a gentle lover, doesn’t usually go rough unless asked or he’s upset. He likes to take his time when having sex since his work life is very fast-paced and high-stress. After a mission, he’ll want to make love to his s/o, being soft and gentle with his thrusts, enjoying the grip of you around his cock. After the initial soft round, if you're up for another, he’s not against going rougher.

-He doesn't do casual hook-ups often because they usually require him letting someone into his space or him going into an unfamiliar place. He’d do them in his car, bathroom, or generally anywhere that could give him semi-privacy with the person.

-That being said, Simon is not against semi-public sex. He’s not super kinky but is willing to try anything once. He would never do anything that had to do with blood, bodily harm with a weapon of any kind, and scat/piss. Those are super hard no’s for him. The farthest he’d go with ‘bodily harm’ is spanking, but I don’t see him using a belt at all. Besides, his palm is good enough to get the desired effects.

-Simon loves to cum inside. Not because he has a breeding kink, but because he loves watching his cum leak out of your well-used hole. He enjoys seeing your blissed-out face, knowing he’s to blame for your condition.

-He’s a giver more than a receiver. He loves giving you pleasure and often forgets about himself because he just adores your reaction to everything he’s dishing out for you. He doesn’t mind getting sucked off but would much rather eat you out or fuck you than that. He’s not a very selfish lover no matter his mood. It’s always 90% of his attention on you and the rest on himself. Even if you guys are hate-fucking or he’s in a bad mood, he’ll either edge you into oblivion or overstimulate you until you're crying.

-Simon Riley has a big dick; that’s just a fact. He is thick and he’s got good length. I’d say he’s a bit more girth than most men rather than long. He’s a grower and a bit of a shower. When he’s soft, you're gonna assume he’s like around 5.5 inches, but when you get him all riled up, he’ll get to around 6.7 inches.

-With him having been blessed in his nether regions, he does a lot of foreplay. And I mean a lot. He won’t fuck you until you’ve cum at least once and prepped and ready for him to ruin you. He will start with light teasing once he feels he's in the mood. Gets touchier than usual and will start with innocent little touches and kisses before pulling you into his lap.

-He loves doing and getting aftercare. He’ll lay down and settle for a bit after a good romp, but he’ll eventually either get up or let you get up to do some well-deserved sweet and domestic aftercare.

Mini fluff fic:

You shuffled through the kitchen, humming softly to the song playing through your speaker. The sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon filled the room, wrapping its scent around everything. Simon was supposed to be back from deployment today, so you wanted to make his favorite dessert as a welcome home gift.

You were so wrapped up in making sure everything was perfect you hadn’t heard keys jingling or the door open. With thoughts consumed, a yelp doesn’t fail to leave your lips when you turn around, bumping right into your husband's chest.

“Do I need to buy you a hearing aid, love?” Simon questioned, his unmasked face showing his amused expression.

“You are like a mouse when you walk!” You argued, lightly slapping him on the chest before turning back to the oven.

Simon let out a low chuckle and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his chest before resting his chin on your head.

You relaxed into him, leaning your head to the side, inhaling his cologne. Simon leaned down, pressing his scarred lips to your neck, mumbling something incoherent into your skin.

You squirmed in his hold, feeling ticklish as a small smile appeared on his face. “Simon, the cinnamon rolls are gonna burn.” Your words fell on deaf ears as Simon swayed you along to the music, saying nothing and just feeling you.

His fingers teased under your shirt and lightly gripped onto the skin of your hips, a soft sigh sliding from his lips as he relaxed.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, just swaying softly, enjoying each other's presence before he reluctantly pulled away, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“You need any help with the rolls, hun?” He asked, looking at the golden brown cinnamon rolls in the oven. “When I take them out, you can help me with the icing,” you said, grabbing the bowl with the unfinished icing in it. Simon smiled and took the bowl from you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before going over to the mixer…

[iblameashley]

The Gift of Giving

Civilian | Male | Gay

1,448 words Content: Face-reveal (text only). No major cw warnings. Ghost is bad at accepting things.

Follow up to Shattered.

Simon ’Ghost’ Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

Simon gaslights you, its a good thing he's just an idiot. You meet up at his flat again, this time with food and gifts. (wrote this on the plane to and from vacation, so a little shorter than 'Shattered.')

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You were content to be the 'active' one in your relationship with Si. You would text him often with memes or stupid jokes, and he would reply now and then with a 'Haha' or 'Fucking hell'. You had been doing this for weeks now, stopping by when he booked an appointment with you. And then your phone vibrated in your pocket on your way home one day. 

Friental: Si has terminated your Friental Contract.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted, nearly dropping your coffee. “What the fuck!?”

Your mind swirled with confusion and your heart sank deep into your stomach. There was a twisting, nauseating in your chest. What had you done? Things seemed to have been going so well. Maybe you over stepped when you showed up at his door with new plates and glasses? Or maybe one of the jokes you sent was too crass – admittedly, you had been more bold with what you sent him – but he didn't seem the type to pussyfoot around telling you what he thought. Well... if you pissed him off.

Your phone vibrated again. Then again.

Si: I cancelled our friental contract

Si: You said you'd be my friend for free.

You: You absolute fucking git. You send the text FIRST, THEN cancel.

You gripped your phone so tightly you thought you were about to crush it. You then wanted to throw it across the street, or dunk it in water. 

“You stupid fuck...” You seethed.

Buzz buzz, another message.

Si: Will I see you at 7 like planned?

You: I will see you in hell, Si.

You: But also at 7, yes.

You were pretty sure in a fight he'd pummel you into the ground, considering your part time martial arts training couldn't possibly compare to his military training, but right now you wanted to give it a try. The rage was still washing over you in hot waves. The man was bad at communication, but this was pure stupidity. 

You took a long swig of your coffee and tossed the empty cup in a nearby rubbish bin. You ran a hand through your hair and took some deep breaths. Assuming the rules were still in place, you thought there was room for expansion. 

Si: You can call me Simon, BTW. That's my name.

You cocked an eyebrow in amusement. “No shit.” You huffed and rolled your eyes. You had figured that out pretty much day one. But in its own way, you knew it was a big deal to him, and incredibly sweet. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he seemed only moments ago. “Fucker is playing games with me.” you said with a crooked smile.

No matter, you had things to do and places to be, so you let the irritation of this man wash away and went about your day.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

You: I will need your help when I arrive.

Si: Something the matter, mate?

You: Hands will be full. I'll need you to open the doors.

Si: Full of what?

You: Things.

Si: Such as?

Si: What things?

Si: ...?

'Suffer' you think to yourself with a light chuckle.

When you arrive at his flat, you set down one arm-full of bags and ring his number.

“Be down in a moment, mate.” He says through the speaker before hanging up.

He arrives at the door rather quickly, mask on and wearing a simple tee and jeans. He forgot – or maybe didn't care to – put his shoes on.

He opens the door and lets you in, offering to carry some of the bags. You begin to shake your head 'no' but he's already grabbed a handful from you.

“Whats all this, then?” He says gruffly.

“Things,” you repeat. “Things you can look at when we get in your flat.” You pause. “And food.”

He lets out a guttural “Mmm.”

Simon opens the the door to his flat and sets the bags down on his table. You follow suit and gently kick the door closed behind you.

Simon is already rummaging through the bags.

“I had half a mind to tell you to fuck off.” You say as you place your bags on the table. Simon looks up at you and furrows his brow.

“Still mad about that?” He asks. His voice seems sincere.

“A bit.” You nod.

“Didn't mean to piss ya off, mate.” He replies flatly.

“A Simon apology.” You smile.

He grunts.

The bags are emptied onto the table and discarded to the floor. There is an assortment of boxes, plants and food.

Simon examines the plants and gives you a look.

“I cant keep these alive.” He grumbles.

“They're plastic, you git.” You laugh.

Simon's focus changes to the other boxes on the table. Some new plates and glasses. “They're nice.” He says as he begins to unbox them. He examines each piece one by one before stacking them and moving them to the cupboard.

While he does that, you begin to place the plants around his flat. A few in his living room window, a couple on his book shelf, and one on his coffee table. His place seems to feel more like a home, instead of just the place he lives.

You locate the bag you hid away from him and grab it from under the table. You pull a large black and white throw from it. “Made this for you.” You say, getting Simon's attention.

His eyes widen as you unfurl the oversized throw, exposing the skull pattern that runs its length. It matches the mask he always wears on his face, and though he wears it now, you can see a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes.

“You made it?” He asks, his voice softer than usual. “Like a gift?”

You stare at him queerly. “Yes... like a gift.” You confirm. “I got some fabric paint and an iron. After a good wash, it was ready. Do you like it?”

Ghost retreats back into himself and scoffs. “Its acceptable.”

“Thank you,” You say with a mocking tone, “I put in an adequate effort into it just for you.”

You toss the throw over his couch lazily and then make your way back into his kitchen and unpack the take away. You brought curries and beer, and lay the assortment out for him.

“I can eat later,” you say. “Or on the couch. If you don't want me to.”

Simon holds up a hand, silencing you.

“No need.” He sighs. “If you're going to by my friend, I suppose its only fair.”

He reaches up and pulls the mask away from his face. He stares down at the table as he does this. His lips betray his attempt at a stern look. You take in the scars that map his face, the slight crook in his nose and a small burn on his jaw. His brown eyes flicker up at you waiting for judgment.

“Ready to eat, then?” I say.

“Ready to eat?! That's it?” Simon is shocked and offended.

“What do you want me to say?!” You fire back. “You have a scarred face, big deal. Doesn't make you any less handsome, or any less my friend!”

Ghost stands there seething, you stand there confused beyond belief. It dawns on you that he likely isn't used to people just accepting him as-is. He had built up this scenario of being rejected in his head and now he had no where to go except forward.

You smile. “Sit the fuck down and eat.” You say sternly.

He is taken aback by your words but slides down into his chair, never letting his gaze leave you. You sit down across from him and start dishing out portions. You crack open a couple of beers and slide one over to him.

“Cheers, mate.” You smile. You take a swig and then dig into your food.

Simon follows suit not too long after. The wheels in his mind turning as he processes what just happened. Eventually – albeit slowly – his look softens as he shovels bite after bite of food into his mouth. 'Handsome'? He thinks. His stomach twists and he feels dizzy as the word bounces around his brain.

“Good curry.” Simon huffs between bites. 'Good company too.' He thinks, though can't bring himself to say it.

You smile and accept his compliment. It seems rules one, two, and five were now out the window. Only three, four and six still remained in place. You dynamic was changing, and it piqued your curiosity.

“Really good.” You agree.