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indecisivekitty · 19 days

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Deployment

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.

One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?

“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”

There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.

“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”

Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.

Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.

The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning. “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.

Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”

“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.

A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”

The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.

He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It’ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”

It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.

Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…

A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…

Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.

It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”

For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”

John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”

“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”

Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024

#— reblogs #simon riley x reader

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indecisivekitty · 19 days

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i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#— reblogs #arthur morgan x reader

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indecisivekitty · 19 days

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woof

cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering over two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

#— reblogs #simon ghost riley

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indecisivekitty · 20 days

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Tommy.

He came out looking exactly like his father. He acted exactly like him. He didn’t sleep, he had nightmares too often, he loved watching telly, he wouldn’t sleep without you near him, and so much more.

While you make lunch, Simon sits on the couch with Tommy, watching a football game. The little boy was in his own jersey, babbling everytime his father yelled at the tv. The sight was adorable to anyone who had eyes. He copies his father, bottle in hand, drinking every time his daddy takes a sip of his rootbeer. Tommy’s eyes light up as his daddy turns to him. “Team sucks, don’t they, bubby?”

Tommy didn’t understand, obviously, but he babbles away anyways, like a fan meeting their favourite celeb. Simon was tommy’s favourite person. You always said that they were twins. Tommy always wanted to do everything his daddy was doing.

“Should we just eat on the couch?” You ask, carrying two plates in hand. Simon nods, patting the spot next to Tommy. You hand Simon his sandwich before turning to Tommy and sitting next to him. You pull the bowl of soft rice off your plate, feeding Tommy little bites off the plastic spoon, He continues watching the game with his dad, chewing with his little gums.

He’s halfway done the rice before Manchester scores.

Simon stands up, cheering as loudly as he can. Tommy tries to copy him, knocking over the bowl of rice.

Luckily, it doesn’t spill too much.

A few grains land on your lap. Simon chuckles, sitting back down.

Bastard finds this funny.

You throw a spoonful of rice onto him. Tommy laughs, reaching his hand into the bowl and picking up a handful of rice. He shoves his whole fist into his mouth, giggling.

Simon gasps. “What did ya throw that at me fo’?”

“It’s funny,” you giggle.

Simon pulls Tommy’s fist out of his mouth. “Bubby, say ‘bad mommy’.”

“Hey!” You pout. Tommy giggles.

Simon leans over his son, kissing you softly, Tommy’s fist hitting at his chin. He kisses the baby boy’s cheek, smiling. “Love you too, bubby. And you, lovie.”

“I know.”

#— reblogs #ghost x reader

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indecisivekitty · 20 days

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To Undoing The Past

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 930 (i think but idk i got that adhd memory)

genre: angst…(?)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, avoidant man 😔, is that it? idk it’s 1am lmk

He doesn’t understand love.

The concept and the entirety of it. He doesn’t understand what it is. What it looks like. What it feels like.

He thinks if he was a better person or if he had a better life that he’d finally understand. That he’d be able to fully reciprocate what you feel for him. You love him and he knows that, you constantly remind him of the fact. He’ll feel a tightening in his chest and nod before giving you a kiss on your head without saying a word. He’ll hold you close and mull over those three words before locking it in a box and throwing it somewhere deep in his mind.

Simon is at a loss when you’re sat on your bed with your knees pulled tight to your chest after you told him you were pregnant.

What’s the next step?, he wonders, what am I s’pose to do now?

He thinks that maybe he should marry you and move into a house with you. It makes sense. But he isn’t sure what to say as you stare at him while he stands a few feet away from you.

A part of him wants to walk away and leave. No warning or response to the news either. That part of him wants to pretend he didn’t hear what you said and disappear from your life. How can he be a dad when he wasn’t blessed with that from his shitty father growing up?

“Simon?”

Your voice interrupts his line of thinking.

You swallow anxiously. “I know that this isn’t… ideal, let alone planned but I just wanted to say that I’m keeping the baby.”

Simon felt himself grinding his teeth before he willed himself to stop. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be normal and feel what ordinary people felt? He gave a slight nod. “Okay.”

Your knees slid away from your chest, making you sit normally on the bed. “Okay? Simon what does okay mean in this situation?”

He leans on the wall closest to him while he pockets his hands. “Just okay.”

He notes the way you narrow your eyes and look away from him. He wishes he could better himself for you more easily. He frowns, maybe he did love you? He still doesn’t know what anything he feels means.

This all started from a one night stand from a bar meeting and was meant to stay that way, really. But after that night, he couldn’t resist replying to your messages after exchanging numbers and he couldn’t help but itch to call you every few hours.

A year of this going on is what exactly? Simon couldn’t say you were his girlfriend because he never asked but the two of you only saw each other. So what then?

Then came to when you first said, “I love you.”

It was quiet around when it happened, he wasn’t suppose to hear it and you hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You two were in Southport though he can’t remember why. Something about a beach? He just recalls how the both of you drank and how you were getting more tipsy as time went by.

It was sunset and he wasn’t looking at anything particular before you said it. You were staring at him with the biggest smile on your face with crinkled eyes while the wind disturbed bits of your hair.

He thought you were beautiful.

But hearing those words made him freeze. Something inside him plummeting while he searched your face. Your eyes widened suddenly before a hand flew to your mouth. You looked away from him. But Simon couldn’t help but stare at you even as you were turned away from him in embarrassment.

He looks at you now and still thinks about how beautiful you look. He wasn’t sure how worthy of love he was but somehow you were convincing that he was. And that he was deserving of your love. Maybe this news was what he needed to wake up more. He is unsure of that still.

He pushes off the wall to crouch in front of you, one of his hands hovering above your knee in hesitation before he sets it down and tries to reassure you with his thumb rubbing in circles. “I’m sorry,” he starts, his throat feeling tight. Apologies aren’t a normalcy for him. “I want to do this with you. ‘Ave this baby, I mean.”

Reaching up with his free hand to caress your face, he spoke softly, “I think I’m falling in love with you or at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. If anything, I would like to learn how. ‘Specially for our kid.”

He watched the silent tears cascading down your face and wiped them before holding your face with both hands.

He exhaled gruffly. “Been a real fucking asshole to you. Johnny talks my fucking ear off time to time about the way I act. Or shit I did or didn’t do.”

Your hands grabbed his wrists gently. “Si-“

He shushed you before continuing, “No, love, listen. Got a long list of shit I have to make up for before this kid gets here and I can’t waste more time then I already ‘ave.”

A smile finds its way on your face, a laugh leaving you despite the tears and stuffy nose. Rubbing his wrists with your thumb, you joked, “You should go to weekly therapy. Two times a week even.”

“Done.”

“It was mostly a joke.”

“Fuck if I care, did you not hear what I said?”

a/n: i didn’t plan to make it long but a song inspired me and then i kept writing and i’m tired and so this is very not edited. also hey it’s been awhile since i’ve posted something LMAO… sorry fam 😝😗

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indecisivekitty · 20 days

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arthur morgan pls hogtie me before fucking me 🗣️‼️

#— 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 #arthur morgan #rdr2

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indecisivekitty · 25 days

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First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 5

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, first kiss

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: You are having a blast doing what you want to do for the first time in your life. However, the longer you live with Ghost, the stronger the tension between you gets. One night, curiosity gets the better of you and Ghost can’t help but satiate it for you.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

Ghost watched you watching your movie with a slight smirk under his mask. While you have already seen him without the mask a couple of times already, he still felt more comfortable with the mask. Especially since he was technically still working. While he has been having fun watching you run around the safehouse enjoying new knowledge, he still had to stay on his toes. Your life was still in danger as far as he knew.

You were wrapped up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, your eyes trained on the screen that flashed movie scenes that were once banned for you. Since day one, you have been desperate to fit as many banned activities as you possibly could before you would go back, whenever that was. Watching movies was part of those activities along with listening to diverse music, exploring the wonders of the world wide web, and trying new foods that weren’t exactly the healthiest.

In your hands while you watched the movie was a small journal and pen where you took notes. For you, this was more about enjoying the contraband. This was research. You took notes on the cinematography when it came to shows and movies. You took notes on the melodies and harmonies when it came to music. You took notes on ingredients and flavor when it came to new food.

Anything and everything was a research opportunity in some way. And Ghost admired that about you. You weren’t too naive despite growing up the way you did. You picked up on things rather quickly, especially when you were in a groove. Now that you were free, you didn’t hold back in demonstrating just how smart and competent you were. He figured that if you weren’t a princess, you’d be a scientist of some sort.

He suppressed a chuckle as you gasped and jumped from a jumpscare on the screen, the horror movie clearly getting to you. Not that you were silly for being scared. The original Psycho was a fantastic piece of cinematography from the horror genre. The lighting work, the script, the acting, and the camera angles all contributed to creating the creepiest horror movie that has stood the test of time.

You wrote down your experience in your notebook, excited to add to your research. Just before the credits began to roll, Ghost walked over and sat himself next to you on the couch. The couch dipped under his weight, reminding you of how big a man he is. You scooted over, making sure to give him enough space that he took up.

When the credits began to roll, you stretched your arms above your head to help out your back. Ghost stared at how your graceful arms raised up high, how your back arched slightly. He noticed how flawless your skin looked. It was no surprise that you had scarless skin. At the same time, though, you looked unbelievably soft to touch.

Ghost had been thinking about that more often within the past week and a half. It was hard not to think about it as you became comfortable within the space. You wore more casual yet cute clothes, you carried yourself more easily, and you have been more active in maintaining the temporary home. Not to mention that you have been wearing that hair clip he bought you just about every day, exposing the nape of your neck.

He wanted to snake his arms around your waist, pull you close into his lap, and kiss your bare shoulders. The desire passed as you looked at him suddenly. “Would you like to choose the next movie?”

“Me?” He questioned, surprised by your offer. Ghost hasn’t had much time to see a lot of movies. He’s seen the classics and some modern popular films, but his job didn’t exactly allow him time to really indulge in any binge watching of any kind.

“I was planning on choosing a romance to directly compare the cinematography differences since I expect the contrast to be quite stark. However, if you would like to watch something else, I don’t mind.” You warmly smiled, happy to have Ghost join you in your movie binge.

You had been trying your best to give him space since he was still taking his job very seriously. You were also trying to keep your crush on him under control by keeping a healthy distance. Though, you still always craved his attention. You wanted to spend time with him. Get to know him. Now was the time to perhaps learn something new about him.

Ghost held his chin in thought for a moment before grabbing the remote off from the coffee table. It didn’t take him long to find the movie he thought would be best for the both of you. Your small smile turned into a large grin as he started Casablanca.

“Is this your favorite movie?” You inquired curiously.

“It’s the best romance movie in my opinion. Not particularly my all time favorite, but it’s up there and a first choice if I’ll be watching a romance. Besides, it would probably serve as a good film to study alongside Psycho since they’re around the same era of film.” He explained, not realizing how easy it was to talk to you about his personal opinions.

You snuggled back into the couch, getting cozy once again for a new movie. The both of you sat in comfortable silence as the film played, feeling a sense of ease in each other’s presence. As the film progressed, you only became more and more entranced in the wonderful story on screen.

It was hard not to sympathize and empathize with Ilsa. To swoon with her, smile with her, and cry with her. The acting was impeccable. It almost felt real. Especially when Ilsa asked Rick for a kiss for the final time without him knowing. A sharp pain went through your heart as they closed the distance, your notebook and pen falling into your lap. The bittersweet romance made you think of your own inexperience.

You haven’t thought of it much before. Yes, you did read a few contraband romance books here and there. However, there were more important things to you besides finding a partner you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t until the event with the Duke that you began to think about it a little more each night. You were a grown woman. A capable, smart, curious, and slightly rebellious woman. Yet, you still haven’t had your first kiss. It was starting to make you feel like you were missing out on something in life.

“Hey, you okay?” Ghost called out to you, noticing how pained and distracted you were. He paused the movie for a moment so he could completely focus on you.

“Ah, pardon me. I was just thinking about something serious.” You apologized, your cheeks flushing a bit.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered, causing your cheeks to turn even more pink. While you have been feeling more comfortable talking to your bodyguard, it was still a little embarrassing to talk about the romantic things on your mind. It was hard to refuse him though. You knew that he was genuinely concerned about you.

Curiosity was getting the better of you too. You wanted to know what kissing was like. If Ghost had ever kissed someone before. He probably has given his age and ability to actually see the world. The image of him kissing someone made you a little sick to your stomach too. Oh god, what if he has a girlfriend back home? Or a wife?!

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your silly anxieties. If this were to be truly resolved, then you needed to speak up. Hopefully Ghost won’t judge you too much. “I. . . I was thinking about how I haven’t had my first kiss yet. . .”

He quirked a brow under his mask, not expecting that confession to come out of your mouth. He didn’t even occur to him before that you thought about those kinds of things. “Something like that bothers you?”

Your cheeks began to feel like they were on fire. He didn’t say it in a judgemental tone, but it was still very embarrassing to admit. “It doesn’t so much as bother me, but I do feel like I am missing out on something. Most women my age have already had their first kiss. Probably a lover. Some may already have children. I know that I’ve been locked away for most of my life so it isn’t my fault. Still though, I can’t help but wonder about it.”

“I can understand where you are coming from. Most people get curious about things like that eventually.” He reasoned, hoping that his understanding would make you feel better. It was obvious that you were getting uncomfortable talking about something like this with him. Your shoulders were tense, your cheeks were pink, and you stared down into your lap where your thumbs twiddled.

“May I ask how your first kiss was?” You pried in a cautious tone.

Now it was Ghost’s shoulders that were tensing up. Besides feeling the instinct of keeping his privacy that he so strongly protects, it also didn’t feel entirely appropriate to talk about his experience with you. You were still a princess by nature. Plus he was still working.

It was hard to say no to you though.

With a deep sigh, he leaned back into the couch. “I was a teenager. There was a neighbor who’s granddaughter came to visit every once in a while. She kissed me one night when we were hanging out. We fooled around until she left to go to college. Haven’t seen her since.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to his story. A part of you was glad that he left out the more intimate details. Another part of you wanted to know what his true feelings were within those moments. “Were you heartbroken when she left?”

“Not particularly. I already knew what was going to happen by the end of that summer. We didn’t really kiss out of mutual feelings either. It was more so just. . . curiosity.” He elaborated further, somehow finding it easy to tell you about these things than he expected.

“Have you ever fallen in love then?” You asked before you could think.

This caused Ghost to tense up again, his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t know why, but the first thing that came to his mind when you asked was your name. Not even a yes or no. Just your name that danced at the tip of his tongue.

He felt his body grow warm as he swallowed your name down, not ready to acknowledge what it probably meant. “I had a girlfriend several years back. Hard to maintain a relationship with my job.”

“I see. My apologies.” You lowered your head, somehow feeling like it was your fault that your bodyguard can’t settle down with someone. Like you were keeping him away from a lover that didn’t exist.

He noticed how depressed you seemed about his answer. He didn’t mean to make you feel bad. “It’s just part of the job. And I won’t say that I was completely innocent in the breakup.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, unsure how to respond to his confession for a moment. You never really asked about his work before. All you really knew was that he was in the military and was one of the best at his job. Now that you thought about it, though, he probably had to move around a lot. He had to travel all the way to your country after all.

“Did you want to experience your first kiss?” Ghost asked, switching the attention back onto you. The question made your heart feel like it was tripping over itself with how fast it pounded. At the tip of your own tongue, you wanted to admit that you wanted to experience your first kiss with him.

“Um. . .” You hesitated, feeling the butterflies in your stomach turn into a hurricane. It felt like your brain was malfunctioning. Still, Ghost waited patiently for your answer. Silently.

He didn’t mind waiting. It just meant that he got to see just how flustered you were. While he did feel partially guilty for being the reason why you were embarrassed, he also secretly enjoyed it. It was too much of a treat to see just how pink your cheeks could get. It made him want to tease you.

Finally, you raised a hand up to your face to try to cover your blush. You were just getting way ahead of yourself. “It’s not nice to tease a princess, you know?”

He wasn’t expecting you to say something so cute and cool at the same time.

At that moment, Ghost wanted to pounce. Hover his weight above your body and give you a kiss you would never forget. Nibble on your kissable lips while you shivered underneath him. Or he could pull you into his lap and slide his tongue into your pretty mouth. Slide his hands along your waist as he tasted you. You probably tasted devine. Sweet.

He had to bite his tongue hard in order to get his mind out of the gutter. After that, however, he couldn’t help but chuckle. You were so much more full of surprises than he realized.

Your eyes widened as he laughed. What could be so funny? Was what you said really that comical? Thankfully, your bodyguard was willing to explain. “Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to laugh at you. What you said was just cool. I didn’t expect it.”

The attention went back to you, Ghost clearly not willing to let this go just yet. It was a little strange. You have never seen your bodyguard so playful before. Relaxed. It made your insides feel like they were melting. While you couldn’t see it with the mask, you knew he was smiling. At the very least, you could tell he was through his eyes. “Anyway, do you?”

You almost forgot what you were talking about until he brought it up again. It seemed that you weren’t going to escape this. “Well. . . yes. However, I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

“What about with me?” Ghost slipped up. He gauged your reaction swiftly, trying to figure out if you heard him or not. If you didn’t he could save face.

You did hear him though. Loud and clear. It wasn’t like there were many distractions that would cause you to miss what he said. The movie was on pause. There was no sound but the conversation at hand.

This was dangerous territory. Saying no would result in losing your chance to not only experience your first kiss, but also miss a kiss with your crush. If you said yes, then the professional boundary of princess and bodyguard would be broken. That could lead into a whole whirlwind of issues if things were to progress. Or if the kiss was found out.

No, you could keep a secret. You have been keeping secrets for years. There were even some secrets that Ghost didn’t know about yet. You were sure that with his occupation and general character, the lieutenant could keep a secret to his grave.

Could you excuse the kiss for research purposes? Accepting a kiss would satiate your curiosity on the subject. For now at least. Besides, the safest way to explore this was probably with the man that has been keeping you safe. He wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with or even sure of.

This was your chance. You couldn’t miss it. “If you wouldn’t mind, then yes. . .”

It took everything out of Ghost to not pull you in right then and there. He didn’t even think you would say yes. However, he had to be sure. You had to be sure. “You positive? There’s no taking it back once it’s done.”

You seriously considered it again for a second before nodding, not much more confident and sure of yourself on this. “Yes. Only if you are willing.”

Oh, he was willing. He craved it. Slowly, he took off his mask, allowing you to see the face you didn’t even realize you missed. Your heart picked up speed. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as a surreal feeling took over. Was this really happening? Your first kiss? With your bodyguard?

As much as you wanted to just keep admiring his handsome face, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to make the first move. You felt the cushions on the couch shift as he moved to a more comfortable position. You felt his body heat become more noticeable as he got closer.

You flinched slightly as his hand cupped your cheek, the feeling of his skin on yours sending fireworks through you. Ghost was feeling the magnetic pull too. Just as he thought, your skin was silky smooth. Your lashes were delicately long and your lips begged to be kissed already. He felt his own heart thud loudly within his chest as he got closer and closer.

He let his lips lightly brush against yours, not wanting to startle you too much. At first contact, your heart soared. Naturally, you leaned forward to really close the distance, feeling your bodyguard’s lips perfectly fitting against yours.

Soft, sweet, thrilling. You wanted more. You really wanted more. Ghost felt the same way as he got lost in the way your lips felt. So perfect. So flawless. Without thinking, he deepened the kiss, pressing his lips firmer against yours.

A subtle moan came from your throat, pleasure spreading across your body. Your lips moved in sync with his, despite this kiss being your first. It was amazing how warm you felt, how sparks flew. It was exactly what your romance novels described. It made you want to try the other intimacies you’ve read too.

As much as Ghost wanted to keep kissing you, he had to pull back. He was getting too lost at the moment. Any more and he could completely lose control. This was meant to give you new knowledge. A favor. He couldn’t enjoy it as much as he was.

The absence was devastating though. As soon as his lips left yours, you felt a terrible pain in your heart. It broke your heart that this could be your first and last kiss with him. Your bodyguard felt that strain too deep within his soul.

He cleared his throat before speaking, trying to relieve the romantic tension that still lingered in the air. “Well, was it what you were expecting? Gonna write it down for your notes?”

You scooted back, creating distance between the two of you. It felt like he was an ocean away. “It was pleasant. I see why people like doing it. I may write about this a little later.”

An awkward silence fell as the both of you tried to ignore the magnetic pull. Ghost scolded himself for getting too close. He really shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. His attraction to the beautiful princess next to him was consuming his mind, body, and soul. The kiss only heightened it.

You reached forward towards the remote and put the movie back on, hoping that this would distract the both of you from your intense attraction.

It helped somewhat as the movie audio filled the silence. However, while your eyes were trained on the screen, your mind was as chaotic as a hurricane. You loved kissing Ghost. You craved it now just like how you have been constantly craving his attention.

This didn’t feel like this was just a crush on your bodyguard anymore.

Bittersweet, romantic music swelled as Ilsa and Rick said their final goodbyes and finally reached closure with each other. Ghost turned towards you once again, watching your reaction to the end. As he waited, he couldn’t help but gaze upon your lips.

You felt his eyes on you, something that you were getting better at detecting. Turning your head to meet his gaze, you realized that he seemed closer than before. Did he move closer without you realizing it? Or did you?

Credits began to roll, the sweet music still filling the quiet. Before he could stop himself, Ghost had cupped your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your skin. God, you were gorgeous. A princess from another world. Away from his world. Just looking into your sparkling eyes helped him escape the traumas in his life.

On his own, he saw blood, guns, death everywhere. With you, he saw life blossoming from the ashes of the world.

His lips crashed into yours, no longer caring if this was crossing the line. For now, he wanted that temporary escape. That fantasy of being with you. Of you being his.

You closed your eyes as he kissed you greedily, your arms looping around his neck. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as he kissed you how he wanted. A real kiss. His kiss. You could feel every cell in your body melt under his touch.

His hands moved down to your waist where he lifted you into his lap. Straddling him gave you an exciting rush of pleasure that traveled all the way down to the tips of your toes. Strong, large hands felt you up, sending shivers down your spine.

He nibbled your lower lip for a moment, making you moan not so subtly this time. Taking advantage of the situation, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. The pace wasn’t as greedy as he tasted you further. He slowed down to not startle you. But god damn did he want to take all of you. He wanted to take all of your firsts. This was shown with just how deeply he kissed you.

Your grip around his neck tightened as your tongue slid against his. Your chest pressing against his didn’t help the now sexual tension growing. His body felt amazing. Strong, defined muscles with the perfect touch of softness. True strength and power that has protected you.

You could feel your sex tingle with need.

Ghost pulled back to give you a moment to breathe. He also was feeling himself responding to the sexual tension. It took everything in him not to start grinding into you. The side effect of holding back was gripping your hips tightly to hold you close.

Feeling weak and out of breath, you leaned against him further, your head pressing against his shoulder. As the both of you began to calm down, his grip loosened. His hands now traveled around your back and waist, hugging you to provide more comfort.

Once your breath became steadier, he placed a kiss against the side of your head. He could tell that you were tired now. He did just take a lot of energy from you. “Why don’t you go take a nap in your room. I’ll be getting some work done.”

Your brows furrowed out of his vision. It hurt that he was sending you away so quickly. But, you did need a moment to think. Regain some energy too. With that realization, you then realized that Ghost was just being courteous to you.

Slowly, you got off of his lap and headed to your room, fighting the urge to turn around. At the same time, Ghost fought the urge to pull you against him again. As soon as he heard the closing click of your door, he gave a loud sigh. He was really in it now.

You laid yourself down onto your bed, the phantom touch of Ghost still lingering. It felt like his arms were still wrapped around you. Like his lips were brushing against yours. You rubbed your thighs together unconsciously as you recalled everything about your sudden makeout with your bodyguard.

It didn’t take long for you to bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans as you touched your slick pussy to the thought of him.

Before you were a princess, you were a woman after all.

#— reblogs #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost riley

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indecisivekitty · 25 days

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I JUST WANT TO ROMANCE HIM IN GAME 🙄

There was only one bed

“Don’t you worry about me, farmer,” Willy assures, stepping into the empty living room with his duffle bag. He wasn’t expecting a fully furnished guest bedroom in the small, newly refurbished house on Ginger Island. In fact, Willy had helped the farmer lug over construction supplies and the bare minimum appliances from Pelican town, so he knew he would most likely have to sleep on the floor. He is surprised the farmer even has a bed to begin with since that hadn’t been in the stuff they brought here a month or two ago. It showed just how crafty the farmer had become since arriving to the valley. “This living room is more than enough. I’m used to sleepin’ on wooden planks anyway.”

“You sure?” The farmer asks, wringing their hands. Their cheeks are flushed pink from the rain and wind outside but also from embarrassment. It’s their fault Willy is stuck on the island in the first place. They forgot to check the weather forecast before booking this trip and a nasty storm started to roll in, preventing Willy from going back.

“I’d ’preciate a blanket and maybe a pillow if you could spare?”

“Of course!” The farmer scurries off to their bedroom. Their cheeks further reden. Why didn’t they think to offer first? They open the bedroom closet and grab a thick quilt and blanket before snatching one of the pillows from their bed. When the farmer makes it back to the living room, Willy is off to the side, kneeling in front of his duffel bag to look for a change of clothes. The farmer folds the quilt to make a sort of futon, and gingerly sets it next to where the fisherman is. They place the pillow on one end and the blanket on top before glancing at Willy.

The man grins at them, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” the farmer sheepishly mumbles. “Uhm, if you’d like to freshen up I can heat some water on the stove for a bath.”

“That would be grand,” Willy smiles pleasantly.

“Alright,” the farmer says, walking to the kitchen area. Willy follows after them. “The bathroom is through my room to the left. Well, I call it a bathroom, but really it’s just a wet room with a wooden tub. The door in there connects to the outhouse.”

Willy hums, looking around. There’s a wood burner to heat the house, small gas stove, equally small sink, and fridge all lined up nicely along the wall. He frowns, questioning the safety of having the gas stove so close to the wood burner. He’s about to ask when there’s flash of white followed immediately by a sharp cracking noise and rumble that rattles the windows.

The farmer yelps and drops the large pot they were taking out of the cabinet. The pot falls onto the counter with a metallic clatter. The loud noise only makes the farmer recoil further. They cover their ears and shut their eyes tight, crouching down and make themselves even smaller.

Willy immediately kneels down in front of them. His hands cradle the farmer’s face and he starts talking to them. His soft tone and warm touch coax the farmer to open their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the farmer wobbly apologizes. They bring their shaking hands down to their knees, and Willy shifts to hold their hands up in his own firm grip. The slight pressure helps ground the farmer. “I- well, I don’t do well with storms anymore.”

“Don’t worry,” Willy soothes, noticing the farmer starting to shiver. They still haven’t changed out of their soaked clothes. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

The fisherman gently pulls the farmer up and guides them to their room. Willy waits at the door frame with his back turned to give the farmer some privacy.

Quickly and more than a bit flustered, the farmer haphazardly shrugs off their soaked clothes and puts on pijamas. “Willy, I—

Suddenly there is another flash of light and thunder. The farmer whimpers and flees under their covers. They really don’t want to be alone until the storm passes, or at least until the thunder and lightning stop. Before they can think too much about it, the farmer blurts out, “Can you stay with me? Please.”

The silence is deafening. The farmer’s anxiety increases, so they start to ramble, “There’s more than enough room for the two of us. Only if you want of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Actually, if you’d rather not—”

Willy interrupts, “Let me get changed. Be right back.”

From under the covers, the farmer silently counts the seconds it takes for Willy to come back. It helps calm their nevers, but it also makes them truly think about what they just asked. They wonder if it was really okay with Willy. What if they ruined whatever rapport they had with him? Soon they hear Willy’s approaching footsteps.

“I’m back,” Willy says moments later. He hesitates and stands beside the other side of the bed. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” is all the farmer replies. The bed dips as Willy climbs on, but he doesn’t get under the covers. The farmer inches their way closer to Willy when lightning strikes again.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Willy speaks. He gathers the farmer closer to himself. “It’ll be over soon.”

A wave of comfort washes over the farmer with Willy’s firm grip on their midsection. There’s a faint smell of the ocean and coffee. It isn’t long before the farmer fully relaxes and falls asleep in the safety of the older man’s arms.

#— reblogs #sdv willy #stardew valley #sdv willy x farmer

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indecisivekitty · 26 days

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IM CRYING

brainrot 🤤🤤

#— reblogs #rdr2

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indecisivekitty · 1 month

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im gnawing on my cage

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4k

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s time to head to the safehouse that Ghost set up for the both of you. Before you leave though, Ghost introduces you to some new experiences in your own country. While he takes care of you, you find yourself falling for him even more to the point where you want to test curiosity of yours.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4

“Has the duke spilled his guts yet?” Ghost asked Soap, making the last minute arrangements for the safehouse as quick as he could. While he would’ve liked to have been the one to interrogate the bastard in his own special way, he didn’t want to leave you alone for too long. Luckily, Soap arrived quickly to take care of the interrogation for him. He was glad that his sergeant didn’t mind talking with his fists too.

“Bits and pieces. Not much though. At least, nothing that will really bolster our investigation. He seems like he genuinely doesn’t know much about the organization he decided to trust. They just made him safety and financial promises which he took without question.” Soap revealed, wiping stray specks of blood on his arms with a warm, moist cloth provided by a maid.

Ghost hummed in annoyance. An idiot like the duke, who was so willing to sell out your life along with your country, wasn’t worth breathing the same air as you. He would kill him if he could. It would be doing the world a favor. “What about the servant?”

Soap shrugged and shook his head. “Still working on that one, Lt. He’s been asleep.”

“Asleep?” Ghost repeated, hardly believing what his sergeant just told him.

“According to the guards, when the man was taken in for custody, he just dropped dead asleep. Coma-level sleep. We can’t get him to wake up. I’ve contacted the team about it and Kate is going to send an expert to test for drugs. We think that he might’ve taken something before being taken into custody. Capsule in the teeth kind of shit.” Soap explained carefully, making sure he covered everything that he needed to cover.

“What about guest statements? Anything useful?” Ghost continues, his patience wearing thin. He needed a win. They all did. This was no longer just a concerned parental request. A whole country was truly at stake of being taken over by terrorists.

Once again, Soap shook his head. “Sorry, Lt. Everything is on record so you’re free to read through everything just in case I missed something, but the only thing we can do is continue our investigation and wait for the servant to wake up.”

Little did they know that you were just outside the doors, listening to their whole conversation. You were finished packing what you thought you needed with the help from your maid staff. So, you ended up leaving the room in search of Ghost to let him know that you were ready to go.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You only meant to wait patiently for their conversation to wrap up. But you couldn’t unhear what was being discussed. It scared you that they haven’t been able to uncover much regarding these terrorists that were after your country and life. It was even scarier to know that there wasn’t much you could do except trust in Ghost and his team.

Finally, you mustered up your courage and gave the door a light knock before coming in. “Pardon me. I’m all set to go to the safehouse.”

Soap’s expression lit up at the sight of you, his lighthearted, playful side coming through immediately. You were fascinated with how different he appeared compared to Ghost. A little shorter, stylish faux mohawk, and a smile that brought life to the prim and proper room. A part of you was expecting Ghost’s teammate to be more like him. Was the 141 actually quite diverse? What was the rest of his team like?

“Well hello, Princess Y/n! I’m Sergeant Mactavish, but people call me Soap. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all the things Ghost has said about you.” He greeted you warmly, holding out his hand for a casual handshake. Without thinking, you took it, your own eyes brightening up along with your cheeks.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Sergeant Mactavish. Ghost talks about me?” You couldn’t help but clarify, your eyes meeting Ghost’s who just averted his gaze. God damn it, Soap!

“He-”

“That’s enough, Sergeant! Get back to work.” Ghost shut him down swiftly, the word of the lieutenant being final. It didn’t hurt Soap though. In fact, he was used to Ghost reacting this way which he thought was hilarious.

With a chuckle, Soap took his leave out of the room. “Aw well, maybe next time! See you later, Princess.”

As he walked out, you smiled, feeling uplifted by the interaction. Meeting Soap was like meeting an old friend. You hoped that you would be able to meet him again, especially to hear the kinds of things Ghost said about you. For now, you redirected your attention back to Ghost who looked more tired than usual.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant Ghost? You look like you need some rest.” You gently pointed out, your brows furrowing in concern. Ghost’s soul warmed up like a fireplace being started at your consideration.

“I’ll be alright. No need to worry about me. You said that you were all ready to go?” He switched topics quickly, not wanting you to worry too much about him. He would catch up on rest later. The most important thing was getting you to a safer place. That would be his safe space to rest too.

You gave a sheepish smile as he redirected the attention onto you. “Indeed. I would prefer to leave sooner rather than later. I hope that me being ready does not rush you.”

He wanted to shower you with praise over you being such a good girl. Ghost was incredibly grateful that you weren’t fussy whatsoever. “No, that’s perfect. We should be getting out of here now.”

An armored car was waiting right outside the palace to take you to the safehouse, already loaded up with just a few suitcases. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be at the safehouse, but you only packed necessities. No formal wear, no jewelry. Nothing that would take up too much space. As you stood on the palace steps, you took a deep breath of fresh air. Birds were chirping excitedly, a slight breeze cut through the would-be heat. It was a perfect day to finally leave your marble prison. Not without protests from your parents, though.

“Are you absolutely sure that this is necessary? I mean, how else will we know that the princess is safe if she is so far away?” Your father nervously blurted, his eyes shifting from Ghost to you to the car in an anxious cycle.

Your mother wasn’t too happy either, though for different reasons that almost had Ghost snap. “How will we know that she is keeping up with her studies?!”

Before Ghost could combat their nerves, you huffed and faced your parents for the first time in your life. This new courage was found in knowing that there was really nothing your parents could do to stop this from happening. “Mother, father, I will be perfectly safe. I will continue to study as usual. However, this will also be a great chance for me to learn what the world is really like outside of the palace. We won’t do anything unsafe, so please, just let me learn what I need to learn.”

For a moment, there was pure silence between everyone. No one was expecting you to stand up for yourself, even if it was about time that you did. Then, your father places his hands on your shoulders, his gaze softening. “Y/n, when did you become such a wonderful young woman? It was only yesterday that I was holding you in my arms for the first time.”

Your eyes widened for a second, not expecting your father to become so affectionate all of a sudden. He was certainly more affectionate than your mother, though, you couldn’t remember the last time your father told you that he loved you. You blinked back tears he pulled you in for a sweet hug as if you were leaving forever.

As Ghost watched, he felt his anger begin to melt. As much as he hated the decisions your parents made regarding your life, at least he knew that it came from a place of love. At least for the case of your father. Your mother, on the other hand, still had a sour look on her face. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut in a tight line.

“Lieutenant, keep my daughter safe.” The king ordered to which Ghost gave a firm nod to. He would rather lose his life than have you in danger again.

After you pulled away and said your final goodbyes, you got into the armored car. Ghost got into the driver’s seat and started it up, eager to help you see the world outside of the palace walls. As you looked out the window, seeing your parents get smaller and smaller with the distance, you felt a surge of excitement run through you.

Ghost noticed how your demeanor changed. Now without the pressures of royal conformity, you were free to be yourself. More courageous. It seemed like you had some bark and bite in you as well after all. He wanted to know you even more. “You wanna choose the music for the ride?”

You perked up at his offer, eagerly nodding your head as he handed you his phone that was already connected to the car’s bluetooth system. After perusing some options, you settled on a playlist that surprised Ghost. Even under the mask, you could tell that he was questioning your choice. “I want to hear all kinds of music. I want to hear every single song that was banned for me.”

He gave a chuckle for the first time that you’ve been together. The sound had your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even know that he was capable of laughing with how serious he looked all the time. “Very well. I’ll make sure you get your chance to experience anything you want that you normally wouldn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain the utter joy you felt, completely forgetting that your life was in danger just for the moment.

It was a long drive to the safehouse in the deep countryside. Your eyes were trained on the views through the window like it was television. You never knew how pretty your country looked. The architecture was classic with plenty of brick buildings and natural curvatures. There were plenty of sidewalks to cater to pedestrian travel rather than cars. Ivy vines with flowers crawled on the side of buildings, the natural beauty of nature colliding with man-made structures.

There were plenty of open-air markets as well. Produce stands, custom art pieces, coffee trucks. Everything was conveniently available, no matter if you were heading home from work or just taking a stroll. As you passed a farmer’s market, you noticed how busy it seemed with families. Kids running around, parents picking out ingredients, business owners offering samples to treat the good children.

Ghost noticed how you looked out the window, longing to join the streets to really experience what life was like. He debated if it would be safe to allow a little time for you to explore. He wasn’t keen on the idea of so many people around you. However, if he stuck close to you, then it should be fine, right? Besides, how could he deny the pretty little look you gave as you yearned for a little adventure.

Before you knew it, Ghost found somewhere to park and got out of the car. Then, he opened your door and held his hand out for you to take. “Just for a little while, okay? Stick close to me.”

The smile you gave was so big and bright that it almost hurt your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, though. Ghost was granting you one of your biggest wishes. You took his hand and stepped out of the car, taking in the sounds of the city. People conversing, bike bells ringing, dogs barking. It was unlike anything you have ever heard.

Obeying his orders, you did stick close to Ghost, your arm naturally looping around his without much thought. This was the usual hold for an escort that you have performed many times. It was a natural instinct as Ghost led the way to the farmer’s market. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t notice how strong his muscles felt underneath his shirt. You definitely felt how hard your heart pounded as he held you just as securely to his side.

When he paused to swap out his balaclava for the skeleton face mask that he wore at the party, you nearly tripped over yourself. In the natural light of the sun, his blonde hair seemed brighter like sunshine itself. His eyes seemed more open as well. Warmer. You blushed and stared down at the sidewalk for a moment, trying to catch your breath that he ended up stealing from you.

“Everything alright? Having second thoughts?” He wondered, compassion present in his voice as you all of a sudden seemed shy.

With a shake of your head and a smile, you reassured him. “I’m fine. Just eager is all.”

With that, he led you into the market that was flooding with people. Ghost kept a careful eye out on everyone that passed by. His arm also tightened just a little more firmly to ensure that you didn’t get separated from him. As you walked, your eyes scanned over all of the products up for sale. Baked goods, ripe fruit, crocheted clothes, beautiful art. Before you knew it, you were dragging Ghost from stall to stall to ensure that you could see everything that the market had to offer.

Ghost found it amusing. He noticed the way your eyes lit up when you tasted a free sample of fresh cheese or juicy apple slices. He noticed the way the corners of your mouth lifted into a grin as you admired the craftsmanship of art. He also noticed when your eyes lingered on a particular homemade hair claw clip that was decorated with pearls, thin gold chains, and delicate flowers.

“You want it.” He pointed out as more of a statement rather than a question. Your cheeks flushed pink, feeling a little embarrassed by your obvious infatuation. The truth was that most of your clothes and jewelry were chosen for you. You were allowed to mix-and-match with what you were given, but you have never really chosen out anything yourself.

“I’m just impressed with the details. It is quite a beautiful hair clip.” You danced around the topic, wanting to seem more humble. However, Ghost didn’t really buy it. With a swift motion, he fished out his wallet from his pocket and took out some bills.

Your mouth opened in shock. “Lieutenant, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. Consider it a souvenir for your first real outing.” Ghost dismissed you with ease, handing over the money to the seller. He picked up the hair clip and handed it to you to try on, happy to indulge in your wants.

For a moment, you separated your arm from Ghost to put your hair up, loose tendrils naturally falling to frame your face. You let them be as the rest of your hair was fashioned up with the clip. The seller handed you a small mirror to see your reflection. You almost cried when you saw yourself. You never imagined that your bodyguard would buy you such a wonderful gift. “Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost.”

Ghost found his heart skipping a beat as he took in your new appearance. The clip matched your princess personality perfectly. The delicate chains that dangled down pearl and flower beads guided his eyes to the smooth nape of your neck.

The thought that he wanted to kiss that nape crossed his mind.

Clearing his throat, he took your arm again. “It suits you. Wouldn’t look better on anybody else.”

It was hard not to fall even deeper for him when he complimented you like that. Your heart pounded as you walked beside him again, your steps feeling lighter than air. Nothing else at the market caught your eye as his compliment kept echoing in your head, turning your feelings into goo.

As the market neared closing time, the amount of people began to dwindle down. Ghost felt his shoulders fall, feeling more at ease with less people around. Circling back around, he led you back to the produce stalls, wondering what ingredients he should pick up for the safehouse.

The safehouse would be stocked with food, but not with a lot of fresh ingredients. He wanted to continue making this a good day for you with a homemade dinner rather than whatever TV dinners were waiting in the freezer. He wasn’t a chef by any means, having spent most of his life eating MREs and military canteen food. At the very least, he could make you something simple yet good.

Remembering the cheese you seemed to enjoy as a sample and how it was tomato season, Ghost picked out all the necessary ingredients to make homemade tomato soup and grilled cheeses for tonight. You watched him curiously as he picked everything out before something in the distance caught your attention.

“What kind of bread do you like?” He asked you, holding two different loaves of bread in his hands while he considered the options. When he looked to you for an answer though, he could tell that your gaze was trained far into the distance. He turned to look around, trying to find what you were staring at.

In the distance was a person with a dark hoodie and a bandana covering their face. Bright paint brought color to their sleeves and jeans. The figure was walking away, but it was obvious what they were just up to with what was close to him.

“Shit.” Ghost cursed as he pulled out his phone with Captain Price on speed dial.

The other line was picked up quickly. “Lieutenant?”

“Tagger going east on Clover Street. Black hoodie, blue jeans, red bandana, covered in paint.” He informed, his voice low as he kept an eye on the distant figure. He observed how they walked down the street, waiting for them to change directions if they were planning on it.

“Getting a hold of local cameras now. You’re with the princess?” Captain Price inquired, his hands moving fast to find this figure through the city cameras. Finally, he found the person that Ghost described.

“Affirmative.”

“Sending Gaz to pursue. I recommend that you two get to the safehouse pronto. I didn’t think they would be out in broad daylight.” Price advised, already contacting Gaz to give him his new assignment. Once Gaz accepted the orders, the captain hung up. Ghost knew that his captain needed to focus on this immediately, so he wasn’t offended by the sudden hang-up.

He bought the groceries, now in a bit more of a rush. Securing your arm around his once more, he began to lead you back to the car. “Let’s go, Princess. It’s not safe here anymore.”

Your face fell as the day seemed to be ruined by another case of danger. However, there was something that was bothering you. You noticed the paint on the person’s clothes and a strike of color against one of the brick walls he was near. Curiosity was getting the better of you.

“Wait!” You paused, your stance suddenly strong and pulling back from Ghost.

His bold brows rose as you defied him for the first time. Surely you had a good reason to. “What is it? Something wrong?”

You all of a sudden grew a little shy as his intense eyes bored into you, waiting for your explanation. Despite how bashful you grew, you persisted. “I want to see the graffiti they were making. Can we? Please?

“Oh, Princess, it wasn’t a piece of art they were making.” Ghost said knowingly, flashes of the pictures he’d seen crossing his mind. Tags of revolution. War.

“I still want to see. Please, Lieutenant?” You pleaded, trying to follow your instincts as closely as you could.

With the way you looked at him, it was hard to say no. He wasn’t sure if you knew that there were tags around the whole city calling for your head. Probably not since your parents didn’t tell you the truth about your life being in serious danger. But. . . he supposed that you deserved to see them just this one time. This was your country after all. “As long as we’re quick. You have to stay close to me too. Got it?”

You eagerly nodded and latched onto his arm, letting him swiftly guide you to the spots of paint on brick in the distance. As you got closer, you could make out specific shapes and color switches. Getting even closer proved Ghost wrong.

This was art.

You stared in awe at the giant mural before you. A crow with a golden crown in its ebony beak. Feathers wrapped in fire and barbed wire. The crow was about to drop the crown into a pit of hell below it, filled with skulls, demons, hellfire, and sharp blades. Ghost was surprised as well. The pictures he saw depicted small tags here and there of the crows. Here, this was a full blown work of art.

Your free hand drifted up to touch the now colorful bricks. The paint was still a little tacky, but nothing that would stain you. As you looked up, drinking in every detail, Ghost watched you. He was nervous about what you were going to say.

What you did say startled him. “Crows are a symbol of transformations, prophecies, and death.”

“Your mother said the opposite, save for death.”

“For her, death is an inescapable darkness. Evil. In reality, crows can bring fortune during bad times. Death is good fortune since it is a new beginning. This message isn’t a threat. It’s hope.” You concluded, tracing the swooping beak with your fingers. The shadows and highlights made the crow look almost three-dimensional.

Ghost wasn’t sure how to respond. He normally had an answer for any situation, yet what you said stumped him. How could he respond to something so poetically profound?

You did give him something new to look into though. He would find the time to talk to his team about it later. For now, he had to finally take you to the safe house. “Come on, we gotta get moving.”

The drive through the countryside was long and soothing. Ghost took control of the music once you began to doze off. Something light at a low volume was played so you could continue sleeping peacefully. You had a long day out. You probably burned a lot more energy than what you were used to as well.

Once the car hit the dirt road, you stirred awake. The stars were beginning to come out, having driven for hours. You were surrounded by endless fields of local wildflowers with only the occasional tree. While you did love the looks of the city, there was something to love about the countryside too. The land that felt infinite made you feel like you could do anything. You were eager to see what the land looked like during a beautiful sunrise.

Soon, the car pulled up at a rustic cottage with a large shed beside it. Ghost stepped out of the car for a second to open it up, turning it into a garage that would just barely fit the vehicle. Once the car was parked, you were led into the house.

A thin layer of dust hung in the air along with the fresh scent of nearby wildflowers. The cottage contained the essentials as far as you could tell. A living room, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Generically decorated, yet cozy compared to the sterile fanciness of the palace.

Ghost brought the luggage in, setting yours in the bedroom of your choosing. He gave you some time to unpack and settle in while he got started on dinner.

As you placed some of your clothes in one of the empty dressers, the fact that you would be living with your bodyguard for who knew how long began to hit you. Your heart picked up speed along with your breath. Not that you expected anything to happen or develop between the two of you, a part of you still had a sense of hope that your relationship would grow stronger at the very least.

Before heading back out towards the kitchen, you caught your reflection in a bedroom mirror. The hair clip was still fastened to your hair, giving you butterflies. It was still hard to believe that he had bought you a gift so easily like it costed him nothing. You could’ve sworn that he seemed a little stunned when it was in your hair too. In a good way.

Ghost was a gentleman. He was just being kind. He wouldn’t do anything that could be considered unprofessional or unfriendly.

Bodyguard protecting a princess. That’s all your relationship will ever be. Right?

Tag List: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess @cum-tea-and-towels @littleghostbride @meowzerzstuff @izziyuwh @literaturewh0r3things @bi-witch-bxtch @victoriareadsbooks

#— reblogs #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader

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indecisivekitty · 1 month

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YEAH

stripper undercover (simon riley x reader) tw: cash play?? not sure if that's a thing but in this universe papercuts dont exist

“you need me to be a…stripper.”

you repeated back price’s words, unbelieving. gaz chortled next to you and you quickly shut him up with an elbow to the gut.

“sorry, lass. i offered but they dinnae take male strippers.” soap emphasized the last two words with air quotes, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

“sir, no offense, but i really can’t dance.” price gave you a slight smile.

“no choice, sergeant. you were the only one not at the last op, so the target doesn’t know what you look like. anyways, you won’t be alone.”

your stomach dropped. you turned your neck in an owl-like turn until you came face-to-face with ghost, the only other potential accompaniment to the mission. “target doesn’t know ghost’s face,” (soap snickered), “so he can carry the equipment since you won’t have any…pockets. get in, be seen asking him for a private dance, and bug the vip room. there’s only one, so odds are our man will take a dance there after. we’ll take it from there.”

you gave your captain a sharp nod, breaking eye contact with ghost.

there was always tension between you two. “accidental” waist touches and leg brushes. that one time there were only four seats in transport and you had to sit on his lap. late night tea and early morning runs. just a glimpse of something, too faint to grasp at. who knows where this mission would lead you.

two weeks later and you’re sitting in the back room of the club, nervously applying eyeliner in the mirror. the other dancers seem so confident and friendly, as you’re the only new girl. “ready for your first time on the stage?”a girl asked. you looked at her, confused. price didn’t mention a stage performance, promised it would only be a private dance. “what?” she smirked. “every newbie gets a welcome dance on their first day. some guys have a thing for new girls, think they’re more innocent or something.” she snorted, turning back to the mirror. shit.

and that’s how you got here, working the pole like an actual stripper. your roommate convinced you to do a pole dancing class during one of your latest deployments, so you tried repeating the lessons to yourself. hook. strong arms. look sexy. fuck my arms hurt. these shoes are too tall. you were nervous, way too nervous, about to blow the mission and get kicked off by the stage manager by the looks of it. you scanned the room, searching for anyone who could help you. then, you locked eyes with simon.

he was maskless, arms crossed as he lazily manspread in his chair. an open invitation to his lap. he cocked his head at you, as if to say “that’s all you got?” that flipped a switch in you, filling you with spiteful confidence. you'd show him what he could have if he would just buck up and do something. you moved sensually, legs caressing the pole like a lover. your body worked with the music, crowd slowly getting louder as they threw more and more cash on the stage. by the end, you were panting, but the manager was no longer frowning and about half the stage was covered in cash. not bad for a newbie.

after collecting the money in your bag, you sauntered over to ghost. neither of you had comms in as the club was too strict, too vip, to allow any sort of headwear in. it was just the two of you.

"need a dance, soldier?" your hand caressed his broad should, feeling the muscles underneath. "thought ya' couldn't dance." you smirked, pushing him back gently as you propped yourself over him, hovering. his hands came to rest at your waist, encouraging you to sit down on his lap. "ah. no touching." he raised his arms in a fake surrender, giving you an almost-smile. you rewarded him by running your nose up and down the side of his neck, the ghost of a kiss. realistically, you had to make it look like there was some buildup before getting to the vip room in case any patrons found you two suspicious, but you were getting lost in his scent. "might need some more convincing before that dance." you pulled back, confused. that wasn't part of the plan. you were supposed to be in and out. he answered your unasked question before you even opened your mouth.

"target isn't here yet. convince me, newbie." you'd show him. you finally sunk down into his lap, feeling his hardened cock underneath your clothed cunt. sure, strippers usually tried to 'drain the clock, not the cock', but this was ghost. you wanted to show him what he could have.

you started grinding, satisfied when he let out a slight growl. good. he raised his hand again to your waist, and you swatted it away before he touched you. "listen to your orders, soldier. no touching." he could easily overpower you, but he let you have it. you steadily fucked yourself in his lap, feeling his cock grow. your nipples tingled, aching behind the sequined one-piece you wore. ghost's pupils were blown out, his focus on your bouncing tits. the grind was slow, torturous. your outfit was slightly too small, borrowed, and he could see where the skin turned darker at your nipples, begging to be released. "your tits are almost out, dove." you locked eyes, shrugging. this was one of the shaddier clubs, and some of the girls around you fully had their tits out. you were high on him, high on the thrill of doing this in public. you knew for a fact that soap, watching from behind the bar, could see everything. let him.

"wanna see them?" ghost sat up, reaching for something in his pocket. the change in angle rutted his boner against your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet moan from you. he pulled out his wallet, finding a $100 bill and presenting it to you with a flourish. you nodded, and he tucked it into the bottom of your outfit, fingers edging dangerously close to your sopping cunt. there was no underwear underneath, and he reveled in the feeling of your bare skin. "feel good to fuck y'self on my money, love?" you nodded as he moved the bill downwards, giving your clit much-needed friction.

"ghost- i- fuck." your need to climax appeared out of nowhere, horniness transforming into something more. his other hand reached towards your tits that begged for attention. he pulled down your outfit, angling you so no one could see except you. ghost pulled your nipple with his thumb, massaging it this way and that. "my girl, so needy for me. boutta come with strangers watching. on a mission, no less." this was wrong, so wrong, but you needed him too much. his hand abandoned the dollar bill in favor of your other breast, squeezing them like he owned you. "need to get these pierced." he sat up to whisper in your ear, cock bumping right where you needed it. suddenly you were cumming, mewling in his ear as he moved his hips to draw out your orgasm. finally, he tucked your tits back into the outfit. he reached into your crotch and pulled out the $100 bill, soaked with your juices. "think i'll keep this. souvenir." you nodded uncomprehendingly. could not believe you just came on your superior's lap with the task force watching. and in public.

"come on." he lifted you off his lap, adjusting his still-hard cock. "let's go do that private dance."

my stripper credentials are watching hustlers and striptok so if there are inaccuracies, pls ignore.

#— reblogs #simon riley x reader

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indecisivekitty · 2 months

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simon who cums during sex when u tell him u love him ¯\_(˶′◡‵˶)_/¯

#— 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 #simon ghost riley

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indecisivekitty · 2 months

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big boy simon

gn reader, tw: body and food talk, ghost isn’t super nice to himself but you’re nice enough for the both of you

“where’s the rest of your food?” you nodded to ghost’s plate, laden with one chicken breast and a couple of vegetables from the mess hall. he stopped short in the hallway, trying to control his blush even though he was wearing his usual balaclava. you looked at him curiously. he got lost in the warmth of your eyes that showed genuine concern about his food, scrutinizing his plate.

“‘m on a cut.” he grumbled, gravelly voice at odds with his thoughts. you looked down and fuck, he had gotten it all wrong. he had been too gruff, like a fumbling kid talking to his crush on the playground. you tilted your head back quickly, now armed with a cheeky grin, and he almost let out a breath of relief at the sight. stupid simon, he’d almost messed it up, but you always gave him unending grace. “why? i like you big.” you started walking, nudging his shoulder in a silent goodbye. he was rooted in place, his legs like concrete as he replayed your words. you liked him big.

“thought you were on a cut, l.t.?” soap asked the next day, in line with ghost who was currently loading up on carbs and protein. “little birdie told me they liked me big.” he meant to say it in a whisper, but somehow you heard. at the front of the line, you whipped your head around fast, sending a secret smile just for him. fuck it was worth it, even if he felt too large for the room sometimes. simon would never cut again if he could see that smile. you ducked your head, suddenly shy. you couldn’t believe your l.t. took your words to heart that much. maybe there was something more in all those glances he gave you when he thought you weren’t looking.

#— reblogs #simon riley x reader

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indecisivekitty · 2 months

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First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 3

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.3k

TW for this Chapter: roofies/drugging, attempted assault

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s the night of the party and everything seems to be going well at first. However, after a close call, Ghost decides that he needs to keep you safe by any means necessary. You don’t oppose any of his ideas.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3

The dress felt tight around your waist as the maids zipped you in. It flowed out in other places, but the cinched waist was so tight that it made it almost hard to breathe. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to this. Your mother always picked out party dresses that showed off your figure. Forced a figure sometimes. You did always look beautiful at the end of getting ready, though you were always eager to undress by the end of the night.

As the maids finished styling your hair, the door to your temporary bedroom opened up to reveal a man that you almost didn’t recognize. If it wasn’t for the skeleton-jaw face mask, you would’ve mistaken Ghost for a different man. A warm blush crept along your cheeks.

His dirty blonde hair was stylishly tousled in all the right places. His navy eyes seemed brighter without the black warpaint and full balaclava as well. There was a scar cutting through one of his bold brows, but it only made him oh so much more ruggedly handsome. All of that combined with a simple, black suit had your heart fluttering.

Ghost was feeling the same way as soon as he saw you in your formal dress. A rather modern, yet elegant dress perfect for a modern yet elegant princess such as yourself. He had to clear his throat before speaking lest his voice would crack due to light nerves. “Almost ready?”

“I believe so. We are just doing some finishing touches.” You explained, familiar with the maids’ routine when it came to pampering you. As the last tendrils of your hair were in place and jewelry was secured on your person, you graciously thanked the maid for all of their help. Many of them fawned over you, admiring both your beauty and their finished work. The compliments made you blush, but you remained humble. You wouldn’t have looked nearly as good without their efforts.

Ghost escorted you to the ballroom where the party was being held. Before you opened the doors though, you paused to take a deep breath. You were nervous to meet so many people, especially the man that your parents wanted to marry you off too. You didn’t even realize that your hands were trembling with anxiety.

Your bodyguard noticed, though. He began to notice almost everything about you since the night you played piano freely in the moonlight. “Everything is going to be okay, Princess Y/n. I’ll be watching over you the entire time. If we need to leave earlier, we can do that as well.”

You let out a shaky breath and gave him a light smile. Though, it was hard to look at him with how handsome he was. “Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost. Truly.”

As soon as the doors to the ballroom opened, all eyes were on you. Every man, woman, and child were watching your every move as you entered the party. Everyone was dressed formally. A small orchestra played live music for the party. Plenty of flowers, tables, and silver platters of champagne were available everywhere. Your parents eagerly waved you over to where they were, a decently handsome man in their little group. That must have been the bachelor.

“You look ravishing, dear! Very pretty in your dress. This gentleman here is Duke Theodore. He has been waiting to meet you.” Your mother played up, taking care to ensure that her loving, motherly facade was set firm. No one was the wiser except you. You could tell that she disapproved of something in regards to your appearance based on how her gaze on you became icy. Thankfully, your father was a little warmer with his honest approval, a proud grin on his face as he took in your formal wear.

The Duke held out an open hand, a gesture that you couldn’t refuse in front of your parents. Once your hand was in his, he raised it to his lips. The feeling of his chapped lips on the back of your hand made you tense up. Ghost, who diligently watched from a safe distance, felt tension too along with a steady fire that rose from the pits of his soul. While he promised that he wouldn’t let this guy touch you, he had to obey the etiquette here. You had told him that you approved of the common greetings already as well.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Y/n. I’ve heard many good things about you.” Duke Theodore tried to converse. Every word out of his mouth was sickly sweet, disingenuity clear as day to your ears. You knew immediately from the way he looked and spoke to you that he saw you as a prize. Already, you knew that you hated him.

If only you could call him out. Instead, you kept up appearances and faked a smile like you have done for every party guest since the day you were forced to attend these vanity projects your parents loved. “It is lovely to meet you as well, Duke Theodore.”

“Princess Y/n has many talents. She is very diligent with her studies, is committed to learning the piano, and always does what she is told!” The queen chimed in, pitching you to him as if you were a product to sell. Duke Theodore’s cold eyes lit up a little at the reveal.

“Is that so? It seems like she is indeed a proper young lady then. I am excited to get to know her very well.” He replied, his subtly sinister smile making goosebumps run up your arms.

He attempted to reach for your hand, eager to pull you in to drag you to the dancefloor. However, a strong, firm hand stopped him. When he looked up, he was startled to see a pair of cold, angry eyes that stared daggers into him. Ghost had finally come to your rescue, finally keeping his word. His tone was equally spine-chillingly cold. “All party guests will refrain from touching the Princess unless it is for a simple, common greeting or if she permits it first.”

Your heart swelled as your bodyguard protected you directly. No verbal warning first with a lack of bite. Ghost’s grip was firmly on the Duke’s wrist, ready to break it if he really wanted to. And God, did he really, really want to. From the moment he dared to kiss your hand, make you have goosebumps, Ghost wanted to break every bone in his fucking hand.

The king and queen quickly tried to save face. Your father gestured for Ghost to let go, to which Ghost slowly did. “Pardon our daughter’s bodyguard! He takes his job of protecting her very seriously. Lieutenant Ghost, this man is trusted. There is no need for such aggressive protection.”

You fought the urge to defend Ghost. To pipe up and reveal that you requested his protection like this. However, one look from Ghost told you that it was fine. He was expecting this kind of push back from your parents. And he wasn’t going to back down. “This protection is absolutely necessary, your Majesty. Unless the princess herself approves, then no one will lay a finger on her more than what is just basic courtesy.”

Some eyes from party guests began to watch the scene unfold. Any amount of drama brought them in like buzzards to a corpse. Already, gossip began to erupt through little whispers.

Clicking her tongue, your mother saved the scene, not wanting this to turn into a real altercation. “Let’s all calm down now! You know, we just love our daughter so much that we decided to hire such a devoted bodyguard. He comes from a military background, so it isn’t his fault that he can’t let a little loose for the night.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your service, Mr. . ?” The Duke awkwardly laughed, also trying to salvage the situation that would make him seem like he was innocent in all of this.

“Lieutenant Ghost. You will address me by my title of Lieutenant.” Ghost subtly threatened.

While everything went down, you just stood complacent behind Ghost, unsure of what to do or say. Truthfully, you were loving the way Ghost was protecting you at the moment. How he was sticking it to both your parents and the man that you already didn’t trust. Saying so in front of everyone was sure to get you into serious trouble with your parents later, though.

While it wasn’t fair that Ghost had to fight your battles for you, you had no choice. Especially not during a party.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, for protecting me so diligently. I should be okay now.” You finally reassured, your response to the ordeal graceful as you praised Ghost for his work while also catering to the pressure on your shoulders.

Your parents seemed satisfied with your response. Duke Theodore especially seemed happy with how you handled your words. Before backing off though, Ghost looked at you, searching for any sign that you want him to just whisk you away right now. He would do it in a heartbeat if you so much as looked hesitant to continue the party. When you seemed sure of yourself, he finally backed off, retreating to his safe distance.

Party guests returned to their conversations, disappointed that drama didn’t unfold more to gossip about. However, they did spread compliments on how well the situation was handled. Of course, praise of your parents’ devotion to protect you didn’t fail to reach their ears, inflating their egos.

“Well then, shall we dance with your consent, Princess?” The Duke offered, his tone slightly bitter now that he had to ask first. Not even wanting to touch him again with a ten-foot pole, you instead made a graceful excuse that should take up most of the one hour you had to be here for.

“My apologies, Duke Theodore, but I must refuse your offer for now. I think it would be wise to partake in a few hors d'oeuvres to gain some energy for dancing. I would hate to only give you a single dance if you wish for more.” You cleverly excused, quite proud of yourself for such a simple plan.

Thankfully, the bachelor and your parents seemed to buy it. Duke Theodore grinned as if he won the lottery. “Of course! How considerate of you, Princess. We shall eat and enjoy some private conversation then.”

Your parents split off to socialize with the other guests while you and the Duke grabbed some plates and drinks to take to a private balcony. Normally, you would have refused to converse in private. However, Ghost presence, even from a little distance, made you feel secure. There was no doubt in your mind now that he would run to your rescue if you needed him. He would be listening to the entire conversation anyways without the bachelor knowing it too.

The night air was crisp and cool, providing a comfortable temperature for what was a late summer season. Stars painted the sky as far as the eye could see. Music from strings, winds, and brass traveled out to the balcony, setting a rather easy mood. While you nibbled on the small hors d'oeuvres on your porcelain plate paired with a golden flute of champagne, Duke Theodore tried his hand at conversation once more.

“So, Princess, how far along are you in learning the piano?” He started innocently enough.

“I know the basics along with some simple classical pieces. I hope to one day play more complex pieces such as Fantaisie by Chopin.” You lied as if it was second nature to you. Hidden behind a red curtain just near the balcony entrance was Ghost who listened to you lie with ease. A part of him was proud of you for keeping such a secret. A part of him also felt rather giddy at the realization that he was probably the only person in the world that knew your secret.

He wanted to keep it that way.

“Ah, a classic and known to be a difficult piece to learn. I’m sure that if you keep up with practice, you will learn it in no time. I myself am a fan of Nocturne in E flat Major. A very romantic piece. Do you appreciate romance, Princess Y/n?” He continued, his tone shifting from polite to mischievous subtly that you picked up on immediately.

Treading carefully, you answered. Though, you did avert your gaze to the stars as you felt uncomfortable looking him in the eyes. “I do enjoy romantic pieces greatly. Clair De Lune and Gymnopédie are a couple of my favorites. While they may not be overly complex pieces to learn compared to some, there is beauty in simplicity.”

“Right. Love does not need to be so complex. I am happy to hear that you can appreciate the simplicities in romance. I take it that you prefer it when people are straightforward then?” He pushed, his tone hinting at something you didn’t like.

“I do like it when people are straightforward, but there's also something to love about complexities. Noticing extra efforts to create beauty should be recognized as well. The melody must match the harmony, after all.�� You elaborated, hoping that he would pick up the hint that you weren’t such a simple woman to win over. You expected him to put in a real, kind effort into earning your affections if he really wanted it.

He didn’t get the hint. “You are quite right. I will be upfront then. I am curious to know how far your romantic knowledge extends to.”

You nearly choked on your champagne. “Pardon me?”

Ghost was close to stepping in, not liking Duke Theordore’s insinuation whatsoever. In fact, he wanted to punch the guy right in the jaw. Before he could intervene, however, a server bumped into him. Champagne spilled all over his suit while crystal glass shattered on the marble floor. The server profusely apologized, pulling out a handkerchief for Ghost to use.

Distracted by the sudden mess, he missed some of the next pieces of conversation you were having with the inappropriate bachelor. “You don’t have to play coy with me, Princess. I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, let alone more than that.”

Panic started to rise in you, your stomach tying itself into knots as your instincts screamed for you to get away from him. You were baffled at how nonchalantly talked about your romantic life. “This conversation is incredibly inappropriate, Duke Theodore! I-”

“You are to be my wife soon, so I don’t see how this conversation is inappropriate. Early? Sure. But I just want to make sure that my wife truly is a virgin. Don’t you think that is fair?” He justified, a malicious smirk on his lips.

Just as you began to protest some more, your head suddenly felt woozy. Your vision began to turn fuzzy and your strength dropped like heavy weights. It suddenly began to get hard to stand, your hands holding yourself up on the balcony rail. A pair of hands landed on your shoulders, making your blood run cold. “You know, if you won’t tell me outright, I don’t mind checking myself. I think I would like to finally have that dance you owe me now.”

Your brain blacked out for a moment, your body following along with the bachelor without you knowing. No one bat an eye, not even your parents, as he guided your body out of the party, figuring that the both of you were simply already madly in love with each other. Besides that, they did trust the Duke to remain gentlemanly. He was a Duke after all.

When Ghost finally managed to get the server to fuck off, his heart dropped when you were missing from the balcony along with the bachelor. Blood ran like ice through his veins. He ran to the balcony, calling out your name as if doing so would suddenly make you reappear. When he noticed your half drunken champagne glass still on the rail, he examined it carefully.

His eyes widened as he noticed tiny flecks of powder that haven’t completely dissolved yet float with the bubbles. An untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed the powder whatsoever. Especially not a princess that wasn’t exposed to the outside world. His mind raced to dangerous places as he scrambled to look for you.

Reentering the party, he tried to look through the crowd for you or that damned duke. After trying to see through the crowd, he grew frustrated. There were too many fucking people at this party! Your life was in danger and your parents invited so many people to their fucking palace!

Having enough of it, he pulled out his pistol that he kept hidden under his suit jacket. With a booming voice and gun aimed, he gave orders. He didn’t give a shit if he made a scene. “Everyone get down on the ground now! That’s an order!”

There were screams of panic as everyone dropped like flies, obeying the command as their lives depended on it. Not with better vision, Ghost was able to scan the crowd better for you. When he still didn’t see you, he nearly became weak in the knees from devastation. To no one in particular, he called for witnesses. “Where did the princess or the duke go?! Someone answer me now!”

“Please, Lieutenant! Let’s just calm down and-” The king tried to take back control only for Ghost to fire his gun into the air as a warning, the sound echoing throughout the ballroom. He didn’t care if he was terrifying everyone. Traumatizing them even. All he cared about was finding you before it was too late.

“WHERE?!” He demanded, this time louder and more aggressive.

“Th-They left! They went out those doors!” Someone finally spoke up, pointing to one of the exits that led to a long hallway.

Ghost wasted no time weaving through the crouched crowd to storm the hallways. As soon as he entered them, he heard nothing but silence. He called your name again, hoping to a god that you were conscious enough to hear him scream for you. There was no way you could have left the palace yet. With how huge this place was, there was still time before Ghost could figure that you were truly gone. His hands shook at the idea before he clenched his fists tight over his gun that he still carried. Leaning into his earpiece, he called for extra security to search for you. No one was to come in or out of the palace no matter what.

He didn’t think he would be this shaken up on the off chance that you were harmed. Now that it was happening though, it was like a living nightmare.

As your bodyguard continued his search for you, you drifted in and out of consciousness inside a private gallery room. Pieces of valuable art ranging from portraits to landscapes hung along the walls around you as you lay down on a classic chaise lounge. It felt like white noise was flooding your senses. Your limbs tingled like static electricity.

All you could think about in your moments of consciousness was how you wished Ghost was here.

A finger traced up your cheek, catching a tear you didn’t even know you shed. Out of the corner of your blurry eyes, you watched Duke Theodore lick the salty tear off his finger. “No need to cry, Princess. You should be happy. Not only do you get to lose your virginity to a man with a high pedigree, but you will experience life outside these walls right after. I know that you have been stuck here your whole life. You must be dying to leave, at least for a little while.”

“There are some people that are dying to meet you too, you know? People on the outside. They aren’t unreasonable people. They just have different views on how this country should be run. If they meet you and your parents give them the power they seek, then you and I will be free to do whatever we wish. Of course, as my promised wife, I will make sure you are taken care of. As long as you agree to my own needs.”

You felt fingers lightly trace the length of your neck to your collar. You felt disgusting as he treated you like not only a piece of meat to eat, but as a bargaining chip too.

From outside the hallway, you could hear the echoes of Ghost calling for you desperately. Duke Theodore must’ve heard him too by the way he sucked his teeth. “That bodyguard of yours is quite a thorn in my side. I suppose that’s what you get when you are up against someone from the military.”

As you heard the calls get louder and closer, you began to muster up your strength. You didn’t have much of it from whatever was in your champagne, but you were trying to save as much of it as you could nonetheless. With the right timing to use it, it could save you.

Right when it sounded like Ghost was shouting from right outside the door, you spent your energy on calling for him right back, hoping that he could hear you past the thick doors. “Ghost!”

Surprised by your sudden outburst, Duke Theodore clamped his hand over your mouth. “Damn it! Your mother told me that you always did as you’re told! Shut up!”

That one scream for him as all Ghost needed to pinpoint where you were. The doors to the gallery were kicked in hard, the doors swinging open as if they were loose on their hinges. Gun aimed at the duke’s head, Ghost suppressed the urge to just shoot him dead right then and there. “Get down now before I fucking kill you!”

Blood draining from his face, the duke slowly lowered himself to the floor. More security rushed in, guns and handcuffs ready. Once the duke was apprehended, Ghost immediately turned his attention towards you. You were barely hanging on, fighting another blackout as your bodyguard appeared in your vision. He sighed in relief as your dress was still in place on your body. Though, the stray tears on your cheeks told him that the duke did more than enough damage already.

“It’s okay, Princess. I’m here. You’re not leaving my sight again.” He soothed, that strong, Manchester-accented voice giving you more comfort than you ever imagined. He gingerly picked you up off the sofa in a princess carry, holding you close to his chest that hammered away for you.

You let your head lull against his shoulder, sleep overtaking you once more. As you drifted to sleep, Ghost gave the security detail some strict instructions. The duke was to be detained for interrogation along with that server who bumped into him as a distraction. All party guests were allowed to leave after leaving all of their contact information with the team for future interrogation. Captain Price was to be contacted immediately to be informed of what happened and to send backup.

In the meantime, the lieutenant was going to watch over the princess and make plans to leave for a safehouse.

With the security detail all set up with their orders, Ghost left them all to settle you into your bed. He didn’t mind that he had to carry you a bit of a way to get to your bedroom. He could carry you around the whole palace several times before getting tired. He was just relieved to have you in his arms, safe with him.

Finally, you were back in your bedroom, away from the chaos. Carefully, Ghost tucked you into bed, not bothering to call for a maid to help undress you or let your hair down. He didn’t want anyone but him near you right now. He didn’t trust just about anyone now. Not even your parents.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the feeling of his fingers grazing your cheek waking you up for a brief moment. Your voice came out as a whisper as light as a breeze. “Ghost?”

“Yes, Princess?” He immediately gave you his attention.

“Please, don’t leave the bedroom tonight. . .” You managed to request, your words slurring as the drugs still took their toll on your body.

Taking your hand in his and taking off his face mask with the other, he revealed his whole face to you. Your vision was still fuzzy, barely making out most things in the room, but you saw his face as clear as day. You knew it was a sign of trust. For the both of you. You nearly cried when you saw him like this. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Wouldn’t even think about it, Princess.”

The way he called you “Princess” was soft, loving, and determined. He said it like it wasn’t just your title. It was your name.

You drifted off to sleep once more, leaving Ghost to begin planning the move to a safehouse. All while holding your hand and sitting right by your side the entire night, he planned his next move.

You woke up with a migraine and a dry mouth. Your eyes were slow to adjust to seeing clearly, your first sight being your bodyguard sitting in a chair right near your bedside. His attention turned towards you as soon as he noticed you awake, skull balaclava back on. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“I have a headache and I feel dehydrated.” You answered honestly which Ghost was grateful for. He liked how you were blunt about your physical ailments. It meant that you knew the severity of the situation.

“I’ll get you some water and some medicine. Some breakfast will do you some good too. You haven’t had anything since those appetizers from last night. Do you remember what happened?” He questioned, careful with how he asked for your memory.

You took some deep breaths, trying to remember what happened last night. All you could see when you closed your eyes were bits and pieces. Visions of Duke Theodore, drinking champagne on the balcony, and then nothing but darkness. Eventually, you shook your head. “I don’t think I do. I’m sorry.”

Ghost shook his head. “No need to apologize. Perhaps it’s better that you don’t really remember. The duke drugged you and took you away from the party. Before he could assault you or take you out of the palace, I managed to find you just in time.”

Your heart dropped as you heard what had happened. Now that he mentioned it, you did remember more of what happened, but it was still mostly a blur. “I see. . . Thank you for finding me in time.”

Again, Ghost shook his head. He couldn’t forgive himself for this. “No. I don’t deserve your thanks. I should’ve kept a better eye on you. I shouldn’t have gotten so distracted. Hell, I should’ve have even allowed your parents to throw a fucking party. I was supposed to protect you and I failed. I owe you an apology.”

It broke your heart how Ghost beat himself up over this. Yes, the situation was bad, but you could never hold this mistake against him. Neither of you knew that this was coming. The royal etiquette wasn’t meant to make protecting you easy either.

This time, it was you who took his hand in yours. “I don’t expect anything that I say will make you feel better, but I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. I wouldn’t want anyone else to continue to protect me as much as you have. What needs to happen now?”

Ghost looked at you like you were an angel. While it would still take him a while to forgive himself for what happened under his watch, he was still grateful for your forgiveness. The fact that you still wanted him to remain your bodyguard meant the world to him too. You trusted him, even if things went wrong.

Now more than ever, he wanted to protect you. Not as a lieutenant doing his job, but as a man that has fallen for you.

“We are going to move to a safehouse. Captain Price has sent Sergeant Soap to come help file reports and take testimonies while me and you begin to pack what we need.” He determined, ready to whisk you far away from this marble hell.

“What about my parents?” You couldn’t help but ask. Surely, they wouldn’t approve of this.

“They won’t know where we’re going. I don’t care about their approval either. I tried doing things their way. Now, we do it my way. Do you have any issues with this?” He considerately asked, though his tone was rather jaded.

Your heart leapt within your chest, your stomach turning into a full butterfly house at the prospect of you finally leaving the palace walls. You tried to hold back your excitement as you shook your head. Ghost saw how bright your eyes got, though.

He lifted your hand to his mask, kissing the back of your hand through the mask. The gesture made you blush like mad, not expecting him to do something like that. The truth was that Ghost has been wanting to erase that duke’s kiss off your hand like this for a while now. “Good girl. I’ll have one of your maids start getting you all set then.”

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest as he praised you, the moment replaying in your head over and over. Even after he left the room to allow you some privacy, you couldn't stop thinking about it. It lit something up in you. A feeling that you only read about in banned books.

This seemed more like just infatuation or fascination at this point. Yes, you admired Ghost for his work ethic. His powerful build and handsome features were nothing to scoff at either. His tattoos that decorated his sleeve held your attention more than any piece of art in the palace too.

Now? Now it felt like more. Now it felt like your heart skipped a beat every time he called you “Princess.” Now your hand ached to keep holding his, craving the strong warmth that he gave you. Now you wished to play the piano for him every single night to capture his attention. Now it felt like you wanted him to call you a good girl through a husky whisper straight into your ear.

You buried your reddening face into your feather-filled pillow, feeling the heat radiating through your whole body. Perhaps you always had a little crush on Ghost since meeting him and understanding his true character. However, now it was definitely more than just a crush.

You have fallen in love with your bodyguard.

Taglist: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess @cum-tea-and-towels

Please comment that you would like to be added to the taglist for this story! You can just say "please add me to the taglist" and that would be enough :)

#— reblogs #simon ghost riley x reader

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indecisivekitty · 2 months

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“no.”

“simon, i’m serious. i have to get up and start work soon,” you sighed, still trapped lying in bed by simon’s embrace.

simon grumbled in response, his face buried in your neck as he held you from behind. “‘nd i said no. fuck if i care if you ‘ave work. i make good enough money, love. you could just quit and do whatever the hell you want. go out anytime, anywhere.”

you scrunched your nose at his words and grabbed the hand he settled on your waist, kissing it and holding it to your chest. “as tempting as that is, i do love my job, si. you know that. plus it’s a remote job, my love. i’m still here, i just need to get freshen up and eat before getting started.”

he grunted in response, removing his hand from your grasp to your hip and squeezing lightly before moving it between your thighs.

“how ‘bout just staying in bed? just stay in and i’ll eat that pretty pussy before fucking you nice and slow, yeah? feed you a good breakfast afterwards.”

“simon…” you started, already knowing where this would go.

“c’mon, love.” he chuckled, his fingers quickly finding your clothed clit to rub slow circles. “lemme rub this clit before i finger that pussy. bet your already so wet too, huh.”

“fuck,” you moaned lightly. “simon, i really do need to start the day-”

he hummed, sliding his hand into your underwear to rub your clit more easily. “start it later.”

accepting you’d start work later in the day, you relaxed more into his embrace as simon grinned at your pliancy. he kissed your neck, sucking hickeys onto your skin, biting lightly before following with his tongue.

his fingers moved to stroke over your pussy, teasing you. “gonna let me finger this tight pussy? bury my fingers in that pretty fucking cunt?”

a breathless whine came from you before you buried your face into his other arm. “please…”

he nipped at your neck before slipping a finger into you, thrusting it slowly in your wet cunt. “gimme a kiss, pretty bird, while i stuff another finger in you, yeah? can’t wait to fuck this needy cunt and fill you up.”

you suppose staying in bed isn’t so bad after all.

#— 𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost smut #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #cod mw ghost #mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mwii

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indecisivekitty · 2 months

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i want to cry

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

part one / part two / part three / part 3.5 (drabble)

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

#— reblogs #cod mw2 fic #call of duty

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