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delfiore · 8 months

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—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

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be-good-to-bugs · 7 days

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i need to go to bed but i dont wannnaaaaa

#the bin #i work at 7am and its 1:23 am i have GOT to go to bad but ugh. if i go to bed then that means ill have to go to work as sokn as im conscious #so the longer i stay up the more time i have. but km gonna be so tired at work. hhhhh.#i dont know why but ive felt so horrible today. super anxious. miserable and really sad #im trying to just deal with it. soon enough things are gonna change. its only 34 days till my planned moving date. i will only bave like 20 #more shifts at this job. maybe less depending on what i get given. including tomorrows shift. and tomorrows shift is only 5 hours long #and the day after its only 4 hours and then i have 2 more days off. itll be ok. but i still feel so anxious and depressed and awful #i just wanna stay home and be high all the time. i feel so lonely always. literally the only thing that helps me not feel completely crushed #and paralyzed by how lonely i am is getting high. i know its not healthy to rely on getting high to feel better about stuff but idk what #else to do so who cares. when i dont do anything about it i i stead end up relapsing or worse so i think its an ok option #i hope i can meet nice people this year. year after year it doesnt happen but so much has changed!#it makes sense i havent met people since i moved out. and everything is so different from wwhen i last lived with them #all my siblings are in school. they have people over at the hair a fair bit afaik. my dad wont be there to me make feel awful. my sister #also wont be there to me me feel awful. i can figure something out. itll be ok. it has to be.#i just want to squeeze someone. i just want like. a hug. a good cuddle. and i need to talk to someone. its been so long since u had an actul #fun time hanging out with another person. i need to watch a movie with someone and joke around and. ugh.#how did my life reach this point? what happened that resulted in me spending ages 10-19 all alone. im not even 19 yet but i will be soon #and theres not a chance ill meet someone before then esp bc im moving. when i was little i didnt have mych friends but i had some #i had such high hopes for the future. i also thought the future would be terrible but i imagined id still have friends and peopwl to talk to #all ive wanted sincei was 10 is just to have people to talk to and hangout with. but i dont have a single friend. i can hardky name anyone #besides my family and coworkers. and like aa couple of my sisters friends. there isnt even like people i know who i dont really consider #friends but we talk sometimes. if i dont go to work. call my mom. or tex a sibling. i dont see or talk to anyone period #i guess unless i go to the store. that doenst really count tho.#i want to have a friends group. i want to have A friends. just like. a person. to interact with. what happened that made mw spend the past #8 years just not interacting with anyone? whats wrong with me.#its fine tho. becausebit will change. i acan heal from this and i can meet people. even if half my conscious life has been spent all alone #it will get better. it has to.

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invisiblestringmm · 1 year

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chapter one

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought

pairing: fem!reader x mason mount

summary: A one night fling that turned into the reason of your whole life, then a month of falling in love with him… until he ghosted you. Mason was never there to watch her grow, completely unaware of his daughter’s existence. It was just you and Lilian Maisie against the world until fate decided play with you and change that — now you have to face the consequences of your decision to keep him out of her life for almost five years. And also try not to fall for him again when he reveals to be the best dad to your little girl.

author: I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Thank you for sticking around, it means a lot!

warnings: this chapter contains fluff, angst, mentions of a tough pregnancy, language.

word count: 4.879k

Watching her was one of your favourite things to do; the way the soft dark brown curls bounced as she swayed around the living room, the way her cheerful laugh echoed every corner of the house and those big, brown eyes sparkled with pure innocent bliss - Lily was your everything, she was your whole life and though, at first, being a young single mum terrified your entire being, she became the reason of your existence. It felt like a lifetime, but it was just four years before that day that you were sitting where your dad was, on that large and comfortable armchair, with your feet up as you stared at a tummy poking out. You remember how that was the first time after finding out you were pregnant that you went from miserable to somewhat joyous to know a tiny human was growing inside you.

FOUR YEARS BEFORE

Every little thing bothered you to the point you’d grab the first object in front of you and throw it against the wall. Your hormones were everywhere, the nausea was unbearable and you knew it was a matter of time until you’d find yourself with another IV fluid bag hanging on your bedside. Four months of what had already earned the first place on your “lifetime worst experiences” list, when it shouldn’t be like this. You should be happy, and thrilled, planning your days and making a list of potential boy and girl names for your child. But you weren’t, considering this was far from what you expected of your first pregnancy.

The long sigh that parted your lips clashed against the daunting yet peaceful silence that took over Foxwoods House the minute your parents went out for grocery shopping after you insisted you’d be fine on your own for a few hours and how much you needed it. Even if they meant well and were just making sure you were healthy enough to be on your feet, all the attention could be suffocating, though their attention wasn’t focused only on you. Though exhausted, you tried your best to focus on relaxing once your eyes closed.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Slowly, you felt lighter, your body finally relaxing on your dad’s favourite armchair, and, unconsciously, your hands rested on your stomach and your eyes shot open when you noticed that there was something there that wasn’t the last time you touched it. Avoiding any kind of touching, talking, and staring at yourself in the mirror had been your way of coping with your new reality, even if it wasn’t a smart way of doing it. It wasn’t easier, either.

“Oh hello,” you whispered, poking your tummy with your index finger. “I don’t think you can even listen to me yet, but… can you bear with me, peanut? Hm?” Brushing your thumb against your skin, your eyes burned with tears. You wanted things to work out, you wanted that kid to be born into a healthy environment even if it included just you — of course, your parents would be there, but in the end, you’d be a single mum. The idea of it terrified you but, deep down, you could feel some courage sparkling.

“I’m still new to this mummy thing, and I hope you’ll like me once you’re here with us, running around… but I promise you that I'll do my best.”

Finally, you allowed the tears you were holding to fall, wetting your cheeks as you sniffed and quietly rubbed your stomach. For the first time since the pregnancy test was positive, you felt love engulfing you most softly. You felt peace and a strong motivation to fight for your child’s happiness. You’d be their best friend, the first person they’d think of whenever they needed something or whenever they were happy, sad, or confused. You’d be their everything because, as you watched that tiny bump, you realised they were your everything too.

PRESENT DAY

The final whistle blow and the loud groan that parted your dad’s lips brought you back from memories of the early and hard pregnancy days.

It wasn’t the first time you watched your dad so upset that England was out of another World Cup, but this time Lily mimicked everything he did and as torturing as it was to watch, it was also funny. Both clapped their hands in front of the TV, mumbling words of encouragement to the squad though they obviously couldn’t hear it. Lily was dressed in her England kit, one of the many your dad bought her along with Arsenal kits, as he was a die-hard gunner and used to take her to most of the matches with him. There was no way Lily would grow up without football being such a huge part of her life. It was part of her and who she was, it was in her DNA - even if no one but you and your best friend knew about that.

Watching the scene in front of you became harder when he was on your dad’s big flat screen, and though your daughter was mimicking her grandad, she was the spitting image of him. Her dad.

For the past four years, you’ve found yourself doing your best to run from him but Mason Mount was pretty much everywhere you looked, being Chelsea’s star boy and part of the England squad. It hurt you, it opened a wound that you fought so hard to heal but he had to come back to haunt you now and then. You’d turn your look away, turn off the TV, and ignore his face whenever you drove by Stamford Bridge - but he was everywhere. He was on Lily’s face, bottom nose, and all. And, as far as you reminisced of his laugh, hers sounded identical.

It hurt, it cut deep, and it made you swallow hard the horrible sensation that effortlessly took full control of you - so you had to inhale and exhale at a slow pace as soon as your sight blurred. Mason not being there for her still made you feel vulnerable, and not good enough for your daughter for you often felt like you were keeping her from being happier as she was always mentioning how much she wished her daddy was around, and you had either to make up dumb excuses or distract her with something else. You’d often listen to her through the baby monitor, crying out in whispers for her daddy - it always sounded like she was praying.

The warmth of your mum’s touch, softly squeezing your arm, made you feel slightly better and safe. She didn't know who Lily's dad was, but she knew what went through your mind whenever you spent too long gazing at your daughter. Not knowing the full story never stopped her from fully understanding you - she was a mum too.

“I'm alright,” you reassured her before she could say something, and watched her lips form a delicate line as a reaction to your words. She knew you were far from being alright - with Lily asking more questions than ever about her dad - but didn’t know what to say. It was something she’s never been through and thought you were both brave and a bit stupid for dealing with it all on your own, when even your dad, who wasn’t as warm as her, was entirely supportive since Lily became part of your lives. You adored them even more for being so respectful of your decisions.

“I never judged you and I never will, and I still wish you’d talk to me as you’ve always done… including anything affecting my granddaughter,” your mum confessed, doing her best to hide she was a bit upset, but failing miserably.

You nodded, moving your stare from Lily to your mum. “I see him every time I look at her, and it hurts me.”

“Because you still have feelings for him?”

“I don’t,” you were as quick as possible on clearing that question, it felt like a lifetime ago that Mason was the reason for the butterflies in your stomach and he managed to end that himself with his stupid behaviour. “It hurts me because my daughter is being deprived of a life with her father around.”

“You can always find him and tell him,” your mum moved her hand from your arm to your back, rubbing it softly.

“It’s not-” you sighed, brows furrowed, as your eyes searched for Lily again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s always simple, love. As a mum, you know it’s always simple when it comes to making your child happy.”

Always the optimist, your mum pecked your cheek before leaving you alone with your thoughts. Not knowing the truth never stopped her from giving you advice that’d often feel right, but so wrong at the same time. If Mason was any other normal guy, you would’ve let him know the day Lily was born and you held her in your arms for the first time, seeing how much she looked like him.

You would’ve let him know the day she took her first steps.

You would’ve let him know the day she screamed her first word - a loud, cheerful “goal” when Arsenal scored, making your dad the proudest grandad in the world.

You would’ve let him know the day she kicked a ball for the first time.

You would’ve let him know because you’ve always wanted Mason around, simply for being around and raising that beautiful girl as best as you both could. But there you were, doing it practically alone.

“Mummy,” Lily woke you up from your thoughts, softly pulling your sweater while curiously staring at you with her big hazel eyes. She giggled when you took her in your arms, sitting her on the kitchen counter with her little legs around your waist. “Are you sad it’s not coming home?”

“Well, baby… I’m a bit sad because grandpa is sad,” you watched her pout, nodding in agreement, as you played with her hair around your fingers. “Why don’t you go there and give him all the smooches in the world, huh? Maybe that’ll cheer the old man up a bit.”

Lily nodded again, a bit more cheerfully this time and you put her back down, watching her rush to her grandpa he nestled her in his arms as she kissed his face and squeezed his cheeks with her chubby hands. The truth was you were more than glad that the torture was finally over, with no more of him on your TV while your dad proudly cheered for England and, consequently, for Mason whenever his gorgeous face showed up.

For the rest of the weekend, you enjoyed the cosiness of Foxwoods House and that included long walks with Lily, baking with your mum, and playing poker with your dad while you shared half a bottle of whiskey - one of many in his collection.

Although you loved London, a life away from the city’s fuss had always been your goal, even more so after Lily was born so you’d often take advantage of your parents owning that huge estate and drive to Cotswolds to enjoy a few quiet days with your girl. You could tell how much she loved, always bringing up that there were just two things that’d make your getaway even more perfect: her daddy and a puppy. Usually, you’d just give her a smile as an answer and kiss her forehead, but on your drive back to London you thought about how Foxwoods would be such a great place for some family time.

On Monday, you quietly walked into the usual warmth of your office, only nodding at a few colleagues who cheerfully welcomed you back after a disappointing weekend for football fans. You spotted Willow, your childhood friend, walking towards you with two mugs of the steamy coffee you always shared in the morning in each hand, and a smile splattered on her face - to which you frowned, because Willow had never been the one in a good mood in the morning.

“I’m guessing you had a fun weekend?” You asked, taking a mug from her hand and closing the door behind you as she made herself comfortable by sitting in the armchair by the window.

“You’d know if you returned my calls, Y/n.”

“And you know how my dad is,” you shrugged, feeling your body happily welcome the hot liquid. A large dose of caffeine and chatting with your best friend was always the best way to start the day, and you were lucky to work in the same place as he – just a few doors away as you two were responsible for different departments at the Swedish fintech you’ve been working for a couple of years. “No phones allowed when it’s Foxwoods weekend unless it’s-”

“An emergency,” she chuckled. “I know, I know.”

“So?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell you whatever she had to tell, as you lazily checked a few emails.

“I was feeling a bit bored on Saturday morning and decided to go to Paris.”

“Willow, you’re so fucking random…” You sighed and she rolled her eyes.

“Met with Arthur there, and we spent the weekend together.”

Arthur, her longtime french fling, the idiot who only showed up when he wanted something from poor delusional Willow.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, because I’m not,” you moved your eyes from the laptop screen to your friend, who still had that same smile on her face. “Why are you so happy, though?”

“I met his parents.”

“He introduced you to them?”

Then, when she sighed, you knew it wasn’t as she wanted you to believe and she was making a fool of herself again for a guy who just wasn’t interested. This time, there wasn’t a single trace of pride for being right, because it meant your best friend was now hurt. Deeply hurt. You watched her nervously chew the inside of her cheeks, sipping her coffee and looking out through the window as if there was anything fascinating outside.

“Hey,” you called her, bright green eyes looking at you. “Lily’s ballet recital is right after Christmas and rehearsals start today. Come with me.”

Finally, she flashed you a smile; one you loved seeing for a sad Willow made no sense as she’s always been the happiest person in your life, always cheering up everyone and looking after people while you looked after her, so she’d be fine too. The bond you two shared became stronger when you found out you were pregnant, and Willow had been there since day one - appointments, baby shopping, days you spent at the hospital due to HG¹, and sleepless nights when it hit you that Lily would grow up without her dad around. There was no one like Willow, she was the sister you never had.

You wrapped up work a bit earlier than usual so you’d, for once, make it in time for your daughter’s ballet class. It wasn’t unusual for your mum to pick her up from school and take her to classes, and even so, sometimes you’d arrive 10 minutes after all the mums had picked up their little ones once class was over. It made you feel horrible seeing Lily there, anxiously waiting for you, and getting overly enthusiastic when spotted you arriving at the studio - she’d smooch your entire face, and tell you how much she loved and missed you.

“Mummy,” she called you, squeezing your hand as you walked to the studio with Willow on your side. Looking down, you smiled so she’d continue. “Ice cream after ballet?”

How could a wrong choice in life guide you to this? To her? Almost four years later and it still overwhelmed you, because you never believed you had that unique thing that’d make you a mum, but somehow, you managed it just fine — with extra help from your family and friends, unquestionably, but at the end of the day it was just you and Lily. And her fish, of course. The only pet you allowed her to have for now, so she’d start to have some sort of notion of commitment.

“We’ll see about that, peanut, but if we go then it’s on auntie Willie.” Lily giggled as a reply, entertained by the funny scowl on her godmother’s face for she knew that auntie Willie would do anything and everything she asked.

“I’ll pay if you eat dinner first, Lils!” Willow said, and Lily sighed in return, as if her life was the most complicated she now had a tough decision to make.

She remained in silence for a while as you chatted about work with Willow, an important deadline approaching right before Christmas break and she knew someone would have to interfere or the firm would lose such a significant client like Nike. You thought that was the issue of making partnerships with companies that had their marketing branch and the ideas had to match.

That gentle hand squeeze was there again, Lily looking at you with her big, brown eyes that softened your entire being. “Mummy,” she called. “Can Summer come too if we go get ice cream?”

Summer, the ballet bestie you never met because you always dropped Lily at the studio later than the other kids normally arrived, and she was gone before you went back to the studio to pick up your daughter. You only knew what she looked like because one day Lily came home with a cute Polaroid picture of the two of them, taken by Miss Albright, the teacher. Your heart melted a little at how precious that was, the two girls clutching each other, tiny chubby arms around each other and big smiles on their faces — you could even swear they looked alike, maybe that was a bestie thing.

“First I have to meet her mummy and make sure she trusts me, so she feels safe to leave her baby girl with me.”

“Just like you do, mummy?” You nodded, a big proud smile on your lips at how easily Lily understood things. “My legs are tired.” She said, completely changing the subject and stretching both arms at you so you could carry her but Willow was faster and nestled Lily in her arms.

“A ballerina with tired legs? Oh my,” Willow faked a shocked expression, hands on her chest as she gasped, getting a cheerful giggle from Lily. You loved how she closed her eyes and tilted her head back whenever she laughed - your chest clenched at her adorableness.

“I played footy at school today, auntie.” Lily covered her mouth with her small hand, letting out a loud yawn. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, sharing a look full of meaning with your best friend as Lily laid her head on Willow’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Mr. Martin said I’m good.” She mumbled.

Of course, she was good. How could she not be good at something that was part of who she was?

Willow gave you a comforting smile, knowing how much this could affect your mood, as you walked in silence into the ballet studio; a smiley Miss Albright welcomed you, gently pinching Lily’s chubby legs with a kind smile curling her lips. She was the most loving and understanding lady.

Lily quickly awakened from her short nap, impatiently wiggling her legs in the air so Willow would put her down. She stormed out to meet her classmates after blowing you and Willow a kiss - you left out a soft gasp, allowing the blissful effect that your daughter had on you to fully embrace you. Lily was constantly full of energy, always beaming, brightening the room every time she walked in.

Like her daddy, who had no idea about her existence.

A soft poke on your shoulder woke you up from your thoughts and you turned around to face a heavily pregnant woman accompanied by, apparently, her mum, considering they looked a lot like each other. They were both smiling at you, and the youngest pointed at your daughter, who was now clutching a little girl.

“Which of you are Lily’s mum?”

“Guilty,” you raised a hand, eyebrows softly furrowed as you let out a giggle. Taking another peek at the two little ballerinas, you frowned at how indeed they looked alike. It was easy to identify that one. “I assume that’s Summer, and you’re her mum?”

“Jasmine, but you can call me Jaz,” you shook hands, smiling at each other. She introduced you to Debbie, her mum, and you introduced her to Willow who quickly engaged in a cheerful chat with the woman.

“I’m Y/n. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Lily just won’t shut up about Summer,” you giggled, thinking of the never-ending talks about how your daughter’s ballet bestie is the… best.

“She’s Summer’s current favourite person,” Jasmine said, linking her arm to yours and walking you to where the other mums were. That sudden loving gesture made a soft smile curl the sides of your lips - you weren’t friends with other mums, especially the ones from school. They were so hard to bond and you missed having someone else - who wasn’t your mum - who’d understand your daily routine of wonderful moments and struggling as a mum.

It was easy being around them, your mum arrived at the studio shortly before class started, and quickly bonded with Debbie about the wonders of being a grandmother; how they both spoiled the girls and were spoiled by them.

The rehearsal went on fine, full of the cuteness of 4-year-old girls in baby pink tutus. You were happy to be there, so you could see how happy your daughter was as she occasionally waved between clumsy pliés and pirouettes. Nonetheless, she was a natural, and you weren’t being too biased — as a ballet dancer herself, Willow made sure to point out all the right things Lily was doing. Watching Lily so focused on everything Miss Bennett said, all the instructions she gave, and how your little one did everything so clumsy yet so perfectly made your eyes burn a little with some tears. You’d still think she was the most perfect creature even if she wasn’t your daughter.

Once the rehearsal ended, you spotted Lily yawning and blinking heavily, but you knew she’d remember the ice cream. Sometimes, you couldn’t negotiate nor change the little one’s mind, and she got all that stubbornness from you.

“Mummy,” she started, and you took her in your arms, pressing soft kisses all over her face as she giggled.

“I know, my little monster. I didn’t forget your ice cream.”

When you invited your mum and best friend for dinner, they both apologised over and over, saying their time off had been exclusive to Lily’s rehearsal and they had to go — your mum, to your dad, because even after 30 years together they just couldn’t stay away from each other; and your best friend, back home, because she needed to meet her dad for dinner. That was when, kindly, Jaz invited you and Lily for Italian at a place she loved; when your daughter looked up to you with her best puppy eyes and the biggest pout she could pull off, you couldn’t say no. Lily knew very well that most of the time she did that you’d quickly say yes, the dimples showing up when she pouted made your heart melt.

And you were also looking forward to seeing your daughter and her new bestie interacting as if they were two adults, which happened, for your amusement. Though you were engaged in chatting with Jaz and Debbie, who were two sweethearts, you couldn’t help but feel completely hypnotised by how Lily behaved throughout the whole time you spent at the restaurant; she shared a colouring book with Summer and they both talked about school, ballet shoes, and pink tutus.

Bonding with the two women was easy, especially with Jaz. You found out that Lily and Summer almost shared a birthday, with your daughter being just a few days older than hers; that you both had big families although you were an only child and she had three siblings. Debbie quickly explained that the siblings part was a bit complicated, but easy to understand, and in the end they were all family; she didn’t get into a detailed explanation, though, which you didn’t mind for it kept you from having to share something just because they shared too, although you noticed some curiosity sparkle in Debbie’s eyes when you mentioned it was just you and Lily living in a brand new flat that had more space. Your father kept teasing you about giving his favourite girl a puppy for Christmas, and you knew it’d end up in more than just teasing so you’ve decided that more space would be needed considering Lily wanted a golden retriever.

“Don’t forget about Moana, mummy!” The fish, your daughter remembered, to which you just nodded with a smile on your lips.

You watched Lily having her strawberry ice cream as if there was no tomorrow, and you could only hope all that sugar wouldn’t keep her from falling asleep right after you bathed her or it’d be a long night trying to calm her down from a sugar rush. Jaz was going through the same struggle as she watched Summer; you noticed her eyes widening a bit but she giggled each time her daughter hummed in delight with one spoon after another of her chocolate ice cream.

When you said your goodbyes after sharing the bill, and before you left, Debbie kindly invited you and Lily over on Saturday for lunch, so the girls could spend a day together, playing, something they didn’t get the chance to do yet.

“Jaz will have her mocktail and I can make us some mojitos,” the woman said; Lily looked at you again with her pleading brown eyes, blinking heavily as she let out a long yawn.

“We’d love that, Debbie.”

After exchanging phone numbers and Instagram accounts, you went in different directions of the street - you wanted to squeeze both Lily’s and Summer’s cheeks when they blew each other a kiss after a long hug. Happiness washed over you seeing that it wasn’t hard for your daughter to make friends, and bond, even if not having her father around clearly affected her behaviour sometimes, often noticing that she, sometimes, was a bit needy and clingy - but also extremely kind and sweet.

Soon, you were home and while Lily went straight to her bedroom to pick clean pyjamas, you quickly fed her fish and met your daughter already waiting for you in the bathroom; ready for her bubble bath. Even clearly tired, she chatted the whole time, telling you how much she enjoyed dinner and that Summer was her best friend in the world - she also thanked you for being an incredible mummy and allowing her to spend Saturday with her friend, which made you swallow a sob at how adorable your daughter was. Raising that wonderful little girl mostly on your own was tough, but moments like this were proof of the fantastic job you were doing.

Thankfully, after properly tucked under the covers, Lily mumbled an ‘I love you mummy’ and quickly fell asleep. You gently pressed your lips against her forehead, getting a sigh from her in return as if she had been waiting for it; when you walked into your bedroom, flickering heavily as you yawned, Lily was already snoring lightly - you chuckled at the baby monitor. You showered, switched into your pyjamas, and decided to check on your social media once you found yourself after the covers: there was a text message from Jaz but it was too late for a reply, and she also followed you on Instagram; you smiled at a picture of Summer in a pink tutu and of another one where the little one was between her parents, a wide smile, and her tiny arms was over their shoulders.

But you wish you had never met Jasmine, or that your daughter had never met Summer at all when you found a picture of her entire family at a stadium, all of them dressed in England jerseys and a familiar face in the middle was on your screen when you decided to zoom in on the photo. You dropped your phone on your stomach, feeling your mouth instantly drying and your eyesight blurring - if you weren’t already in bed, the weakness you felt spreading from your legs through your body would bring you to the floor.

Breathe, Y/n.

That was Mason, and it didn’t take you much to realise who precisely he was. Or who Jasmine was.

Mason was her brother.

Not believing what your eyes just saw, you went back to scrolling through her Insta and you felt your whole body trembling now, tears filling your eyes and rolling freely down your cheeks; there were a bunch of pictures with him, of the entire family on Christmas, of him with Summer. You felt the urge to vomit, your heart pounding against your chest so loud you could nearly listen to it.

Mason was her damn brother.

Mason, the father of your daughter.

Lilian Maisie.

********* words:

HG: hyperemesis gravidarum: A severe type of nausea and vomiting during pregnancy.

#mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount series

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81folklore · 7 months

Text

lover - MS47

pairings: mick schumacher x wordle!reader (fc: savannah delullo + pintrest)

summary: micks girlfriend always relates everything in her life to the three things she loves most; taylor swift, wordle and her boyfriend

authors note: this is probably one of the most niche things ive ever made but i absolutely love sav and her wordle content and i also love mick so why not put those together?? i dont even know how i thought of this but here it is😭

authors note 2: doesnt have all the pictures i wanted, but i needed this to be one part so i had to shorten it a bit. i ended up mainly using pintrest photos, but that was only because the sav photos i planned to use ended up being in posts i couldnt make due to the 30 picture limit. i actually think this is my favorite smau ive done so i hope you enjoy

masterlist

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, jackdoohan and 12,728 others

and everytime i look at you, its like the first time

view comments

user11: beach being the wordle today was perfect pinned

yourusername: can confirm i was very happy

mickschumacher: good pictures...must be a pretty cool photographer😂

yourusername: ehh took some practice but he learnt from the best!😉

user82: you guys are so cute

user9: micks looking more and more like his dad everyday :')

user4: im so obessed with your tiktoks

user49: favorite wordle player

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon and 14,287

you got that long hair, slicked back, white tshirt, and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

view comments

user55: officially my favorite couple

user20: dont know who i want to be more

user32: so so cute

mickschumacher: 💚💚💚

user2: i love that she always includes that days wordles in her posts

user72: and if she can, she will relate it to a taylor lyric and make that her caption

user60: and she always tries to match the pictures to the word

user46: are those his dads glasses☹️

yourusername

liked by carla.brocker, mickschumacher and 26,109 others

youre a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town🎞️

view comments

user8: micks smile AHHHHH

user92: im so obsessed with this post

user902: he looks SO GOOD

user65: i cant bresthe omg

mickschumacher: my favourite photographer

yourusername: my favourite muse

user7: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

user51: no bcs you just dont understand

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, jackdoohan and 31,273 others

✨i can still make the whole place shimmer✨

HOLY WHAT IS MY LIFE??? so much happened within the span of a night and im in shock. first, TAYLOR SWIFT?? next SWIFT WORDLE ANSWER?? ON THE DAY OF MY CONCERT?? then I GOT THE 22 HAT?? EXACTLY 10 YEARS AFTER THE LAST PICTURE TOOK PLACE?? also lets all appreciate how good both taylor and mick look!!!!

view comments

user4: YOU GOT THE HAT? IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

user6: you deserve the hat so much!!

user67: what was your reaction to the wordle?

yourusername: i actually did it in the stadium while waiting for taylor, i started freaking out i was so happy😭

user13: love your outifts! did you make both of them?

yourusername: i made micks and he made mine☺️

yourfriend2: im glad you both had fun

yourusername: mwah 💋

mickschumacher: thank you for choosing me to go with you

yourusername: why wouldnt i take my favorite person to see my other favorite person??

mickschumacher: love you

yourusername: love you🩵

user5: the IT couple

user85: i love seeing mick getting involved with her interests :(

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, georgerussell63 and 40,812 others

we could let our friends crash in the living room

tagged mickschumacher, lewishamilton, estebanocon, lance_stroll, sebastianvettel, georgerussell63+

view comments

user56: oh my god oh my god

user52: theyre literally living taylor swift lyrics

user75: i cant cope

user79: THEY HAD A SLEEPOVER?? WITH THEIR GRID FRIENDS??

user20: seb definitly spun the wheel in twister

user59: definitly had a drink with him aswell😭

lewishamilton: thanks for having us💜

yourusername: always welcome with us lewis🩵

mickschumacher: can i go where you go?

yourusername: can we always be this closee?

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton and 29,819 others

and at every table, ill save you a seat, lover...

m, you mean more to me than i will ever be able to put into words. the love i feel for you is something so special it feels wrong to just say 'i love you', it doesnt do it justice. you are my entire being and nothing i say or do will even amount to the way you make me feel

3 years ago, forever felt scary, forever felt terrifying, but how can forever be enough now? how will i ever have enough time with you? how will i ever have enough time to love you?

i would say 'take me out and take me home' but no matter where you take me i will always be home if im with you🏠

tagged mickschumacher

comments on this post have been limited

mickschumacher: my favorite person

yourusername: 🫶🫶

mickschumacher: my one and only

yourusername: my lifeline

mickschumacher: forever with you sounds perfect

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine

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pepprs · 2 years

Text

ok mutuals. i am waiting for my first layer of paint to dry (it looks like shit rn lol but if this turns out good i might post it) and im still debating whether or not to say anything now that ive written the letter. like to say that this sucks. there’s that post i just rbed that’s like don’t hold back bc you think it’s cringe but then i saw another post tonight abt a Very specific situation that is not fair for me to be thinking abt in this way but the jist of it (removing the context) was that u shouldn’t burden ppl w ur grief when they make necessary decisions that make them happy. so it’s like ok. and again this is me taking that latter post completely and inappropriately out of context but realy shouldnt / doesn’t ir apply to all situations where someone is making a choice for their own happiness that takes their idealized version of you away from them. grief and everything that comes with it is burdensome and makes the other person feel guilty when ultimately it isn’t even about you. and i know bc ive been on the other side of this situation so many times and have been angry and frustrated when (specific) ppl grieve me for not being who they needed me to be. but this is my first time EVER being on the other side actually in a way that is actually real and not just in my head or metaphorical lol. i fear it literally all the time ofc but this is the first time in my life where someone is leaving me (and CHOOSING to) and not when im leaving either by choice or by like… by virtue of having to progress into a new school or mandatory study abroad or whatever. and it fucking sucks so bad.and if it was me doing this i would want her to talk to me abt how hurt / angry / sad she was and *i* would be hurt / angry / sad if she felt like she needed to hold back but… she is wired differently and needs different things and i truly think me telling her that this is dealing me psychological damage i will carry with me for the rest of my life is only going to be unhelpful and make her angry and uncomfortable. lol

#if i had a relationship w her where we talked abt feelings (like everyone else on our staff team but me 😍) then it would be ok. but in order #to tell her this i would have to be making like a huge leap of saying yeah no we haven’t talked like this before and im forcing us to. and I #uhhhh do not think she would react well to that. i would do it if it was anyone but her but i am terrified of burdening her with me. which I #have proof of btw like she just.. idk. i mean it’s not proof. but every time i have talked abt emotional stuff when she’s been present she h #has like… idk. checked out. visibly and tangibly. i can’t go into a lot of detail abt it LOLLLL but this is a pattern. and then i hear abt h #how she ***** ** *** ***** and like…. i sound kinda jealous talking abt it BECAUSE I AM! i do not see that version of her at all. and that #is literally all i want if i talk to her abt it. to just say like.. hi. we have not talked like this before but you are about to leave and #it has destroyed everything including me. this is hurting me for particular reasons some of which may shock you. i need you to know that. an #and i want us to start telling us things and being close even though you’re literally leaving and won’t be an everyday figure in my life #anymore like you have been for the last 4.5 years lol bye 😍😍😍😍😍😍 like that’s all i want. is just to establish the closeness and make plans t #to maintain it. idk. it’s like cringe and creepy. and i KNOW also that if we talk and i try to tell her how i feel i will do that thing wher #where i cry so hard i can’t even speak through it which im almost certain i will do in front of her tomorrowanyway LOLLLL so. but yeah i #don’t think she is gonna be very comfortable with that and i can’t make her u comfortable or burden her bc she needs to do this for her and #i want her to be happy even if it’s not here. but it hurts soo fucking bad like do you realize how important you are to me and how i was #looking forward to this so much and you fucking pulled out the rug from under us and i don’t know how to be without you. lollllll. CRINGE #purrs #delete later #ok my paint is almost dry lol! win #but also there’s like. ok i will shut upi promise. bit there’s also like… am i thinking this thru clearly / rationally or am i projecting #and assuming things and like… fumbling my way thru this situation for the first time bc ive never been in it before and don’t know what to #do or what’s helpful and what’s not. i know i am depriving myself of love and comfort and things that would make this easier to cope with b #but is that the right thing to do or is it stupid and foolish. i don’t think there’s a right / good / painless way thru this. lol #<- freak <- irredeemable <- embarrassingly immature and naïve given requirements of current job let alone life experiences to this point

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 year

Text

Bandage To A Broken Heart (Simon 'Ghost' Riley)

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Fem Medic!!Reader

Summary: You're a medic assigned to the 141 task force, Ghost is particularly fond of you and after an injury, he comes straight to your door. This is in Ghosts point of view (still second person, just from his perspective)

Warnings: explicit content, minors dni, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, praise kink, size kink (mans 6'4 whaddya expect), choking, dirty talk, language, mentions of injuries, mentions of reader being much shorter than ghost and has tattoos, no other physically descriptions

WC: 7k I'm so sorry

A/N: FINALLY, ive been writing this fic for like 3 weeks now and I finally got to finish this and omggg, Im down so fucking bad for this man, so naturally I wrote filth for him. I hope my ghost girlies enjoy this

You can also read this over at Ao3

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Ghost was no stranger to pain. Not in the slightest. Pain was second nature to him. He had spent his entire life experiencing and learning to manage his pain to the point where he no longer felt it. But he'd be lying if he said that your touch didn't take away his pain better than he ever could himself.

Always so careful and gentle, and always willing to help anyone that walked into your infirmary and in the field. He couldn't understand how someone so sweet and caring could've ever ended up in the military, but then again after the things he had seen you do in the field, he'd be a fool to ever doubt your capabilities.

He was no stranger to you either, afterall, the 141 had become your main patients after you were assigned to their task force as their physician a year ago. And for one reason or another, Ghost always ended up at your infirmary, whether it was for an actual injury or to ask about your day under the excuse of needing some painkillers he probably didn't really need through grumbles and that particularly dry humor of his that always made your day. And truly, he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his day too.

Simon Riley was down bad for you, and he didn't know what to do about it.

He had lost track of time. He wasn't sure if it was from the crash or just the overall shit show that his latest mission had been, but everything was an absolute blur to him. All he knew is that there was only one thing he wanted to do and one thing only. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.

Price had insisted Ghost joined the others at the infirmary, but he knew it wouldn't be you stitching up his wounds. After a very disastrous previous mission, you were left with pretty severe injuries yourself, ones that left you at your own infirmary for a few days. And while you assured them you were ready to go back to your duties, which included accompanying the 141 to their latest assignment, Price and Ghost himself insisted you sat this one out, and took a couple more days to fully recover. After a good fifteen minutes of protesting, you were outvoted. There were medics on base after all. But they weren't you, so naturally Ghost refused to go to the infirmary. He didn't trust anyone else but you. He'd rather bleed out, he said.

Price wasn't one to question anything Ghost did, he could take care of himself. And he knew you were the only one he trusted to take care of him.

Before he even realized it, Ghost was dragging himself to your quarters, unsure if you'd tell him to fuck off and to go to the infirmary instead, or if you'd honor the idea that he only trusted your hands to fix his wounds and take away his pain, for a little while at least. He was hoping it was the ladder.

He knocked, once, twice and a third time, and with a pained groan he leaned his body against the door, trying to take some weight off his sore legs. He waited, his mind racing and thinking that maybe you weren't at the infirmary for a reason, that maybe he should leave you alone and let you take some well deserved rest.

But he needed to see you, right now.

He lifted his head only a few inches to find you, for the first time not in your usual uniform, but instead a plain dark green tee that left the pattern of black and colored ink on your right arm on full display, and sleeping pants. But you didn't look like you had been asleep, you looked wide awake. Though that quickly turned into what Ghost thought was a mixture of worry and relief on your features. He knew because he had that same look when you woke up after he had carried your unconscious body to the medivac.

"Will you ever learn to take care of yourself out there?" Were the first words out of your mouth as you scanned his slouched body, taking particular notice to the hand glued to his right shoulder.

He let out a dry chuckle and the way in which his entire body relaxed, his shoulders dropped and was no longer on high alert the second he saw you was more than obvious. Whether or not you did notice that or not was beyond his people reading skills.

He didn't have to ask or say anything, you simply moved out of the way and walked back. He followed you in, his heavy but surprisingly quick steps following close behind you until you eventually came to a stop. He stopped, standing to his full height and his dark eyes were fixed on you as he waited for you to grab your medical supplies, which he knew you always kept around just in case.

"I can't check for injuries with all that gear Simon." You motioned your free hand to his tactical vest strapped with just about every weapon he could carry and most likely a bullet covered plate underneath his jacket.

He stood silent for a long second, just taking in the way you said his name. You only ever called him Simon in private, where you both knew you were safe from everyone else, where your protective armors could come down for once. He liked it when you called him Simon, it reminded him that he was still, in fact, a human being, that he was still Simon Riley, not just the ghost of a dead man that hid behind the mask of a killing machine.

He gave you a nod and his hand went towards the clips that kept his harness and vest together. Slowly, minding the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he dropped his vest on the floor, his black jacket quickly following the same fate. This, though, earned a groan of discomfort when his shoulder moved, he closed his eyes momentarily as he pulled the sleeve from his injured shoulder before dropping his jacket to the ground as well. All that was left was his clinging black shirt leaving the black ink of his arm on full display, and of course, his balaclava and the skull plate stitched to the thick fabric.

You were already gloved up by then, your tools already laid out on a desk behind Simon. So once he was free on his gear, you looked up at him, now seeing the trail of dry blood that ran down his right arm, starting at his shoulder. You stared at him for a few seconds as he stood there before you spoke.

"I can't stitch your shoulder if you're all the way up there Simon, sit down." You rolled your eyes, forcing out an exasperated sigh and exaggerated motion for him to sit down by your desk.

"It's not my fault you're all the way on the ground down there. Would it kill ya to grow a few?" He said with his usual lack of emotion, but under his mask, his lips tugged up just a tiny bit at the glare you gave him as he sat down in front of you, because even with him sitting down, he was still half a head taller than you.

"I'll remember that next time you come to my infirmary asking for pain killers after you get shot or stabbed again." You shot him a nasty glare, but you both knew you didn't mean that. "Speaking of getting shot, how did this happen?"

He hissed barely loud enough to be heard through his mask when he felt you lift the sleeve of his shirt and scrunched it up to his shoulder to reveal a gash from a bullet just above his bicep. You glanced at him, eyes meeting his own for a second in a silent apology before you turned your attention back to his wound.

"Bastard shot me at close range, bullet must've grazed through my jacket. Good thing he was a shit shot though." He answered, his eyes watching you as you cleaned the dried blood around the wound, more focused on you than any pain he could be feeling in that moment.

"Y'know, had you let me go on that mission I probably would have cleaned this up hours ago." You muttered, swiping the wet cotton around his skin, giving him a minute or two to breathe before actually cleaning the wound.

"Had you gone with us you would've probably ended in the infirmary for another week." He quickly shot back, his naturally gruffly and raspy voice turning just a bit more so at the idea of it and you could feel his shoulders tense under your fingers. "Better me than you, eh?"

"That's not funny." Your eyes flickered in his direction and you narrowed them at him, only to find his brown eyes staring deep into you, not once looking away. Until you swiped a soaked cotton over his wound and he exhaled deeply and unevenly, his eyes closing momentarily as he felt his skin throb and burn.

"I'm not laughing," He eventually responded in a quiet tone, eyes finally opening to meet yours once again.

"Do you ever?" You asked with a tiny smile, earning the typical dead eyed glare Ghost gave everyone that annoyed him.

"No."

You looked away from him, lips curved up into a smile as you covered his clean wound with a gauze, not really needing stitches. You weren't looking at him then, so you missed the way he looked at you, his head slightly tilted and his eyes hooded as he memorized every detail of your face. He always did this, just in case it was the last.

"Anything else hurts?" You asked after a minute, taking your gloves off and throwing them on the desk and leaned on your left foot, head tilted as you looked at him again.

"Mmm," He half pointed to the left side of his face, "I hit my face when the heli crashed. 'm afraid I did some irreparable damage to that side of my face."

You stared at him, you blinked a few times and your eyebrows furrowed with confusion at his request. He knew you were trying to understand his request, he was giving you permission to see his face. For the first time and you weren't sure if he was being serious or not.

"I can't, y'know, the mask," You pointed to the thick fabric covering his face, noticing the tear on the left side but you made no effort to actually look, let alone touch.

You stood still, hands glued to your side, itching to remove his mask yourself, but you were afraid, afraid to cross an irreversible boundary. He could see it, he could see the way your hands shook and your teeth nervously dug into your bottom lip. And he wasn't much better, he could feel his heart pound in his chest and his breath pick up. But he wasn't scared.

He trusted you.

Simon watched you intensely, brown eyes watching every detail on your face, every expression as he reached up to the front of his balaclava and with a deep exhale he pulled it off his head. Your lips parted and your eyes slightly widened. He could hear how your own breath picked up in an instant. But you weren't scared or disgusted, not at all. All he saw was awe.

You slowly licked your lips as you stepped closer, until you were standing over his knee with your parted legs. With a shuddered breath you leaned down, eyes lingering on his own before they flicked down to the cut on his left cheek. Your hand ghosted over his face, but didn't quite touch him, for some reason, this felt like another boundary you didn't want to push unless he said so.

He noticed your hesitation, and he didn't blame you. But he didn't need to say anything, he simply nodded.

He shuddered when he felt your soft fingers graze his skin and he momentarily closed his eyes, before opening them again to watch you bring a wet cotton to clean the dried blood on his face.

“What happened to your face?” You asked quietly after a long silence, brushing the cotton over the cut that appeared to be a couple inches long right across his cheekbone.

“Enemy missile, the heli crashed. I dunno how I got out of there. I blacked out and next thing I knew I was being dragged out of that heli by Soap.” He explained, the memories of it all still being too blurry to remember clearly. But he did remember one thing; the thoughts going through his head in that moment. “We lost a lot of good soldiers.”

“You’re lucky all you got out of that was a cut on your face and probably a concussion. You could’ve died.” Your throat nearly closed up then, your fingers stopping to rest on his face. You were both used to this idea of death, of going on an assignment and never coming back, but that didn’t make your heart ache any less.

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes searched for yours, but you weren’t looking at him, “Well I’m alive aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and you’re one lucky motherfucker for that,” Your voice was close to breaking, and your hands were shaking. Was that anger he heard in your voice? Or was it panic at the idea of him dying? “I could’ve helped, I just wish I had been there.”

His gaze turned hard and his jaw tightened, “I don’t.” His tone shifted, there was nothing lighthearted about it, he was being dead serious. And you actually looked at him this time, and you found his eyes. But you didn’t respond, you couldn’t, so you stayed silent as you gave yourself the time to actually take him in.

"So what's the diagnosis Doc, am I gonna make it?" The low timber of his voice startled you after a long minute or two, but not because it was loud, he barely raised his voice above a whisper, it startled you because you were so focused on taking in each and every one of his features, the unique shape of his nose, his sharp jaw, the three day stubble that scratched the pads of your fingers, his light eyelashes that contrasted the dark paint smeared over his eyes. You memorized all of them in case you never saw them again.

A small smile eventually tugged at your lips and you chuckled softly, nodding, "Looks like it, you'll have a scar though."

He chuckled, and this time, you could see the tiny curl of his lips when he did so, "I can live with that."

His lips fell back into a flat line and instead, his eyes locked onto yours for a long second and he could swear he could hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it was his own. He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he was this close and he couldn’t stop the thoughts in his head.

Something was different. Something in the air felt different. The careful touches of your hands, they were different. And he felt different too.

He leaned in, stopping only when he heard you take a small breath. One of his hands rested on your hip then, and when you didn't tense or shoved him away, he pulled you closer with a tight grip

“Tell me to stop, right now.” His voice was low and quiet, but you heard him loud and clear. And you didn't want him to. He didn't want to either.

"Simon…"

He didn’t have to hear anything else, he heard all he needed to hear. The way his name fell from your tongue, the shakiness in your voice and the way you also leaned in, like your body was gravitating towards him. He knew.

His large hand found the back of your neck and he pulled you in, lips capturing yours into a kiss that left you without air. His other arm sneaked around your waist to pull you closer and forced you down on his thigh. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but you welcomed it nonetheless and you threw your arms over his neck as his mouth covered yours. He took it slow, much to your surprise. For a man known for his brutality he was surprisingly gentle. He kissed you slowly, his tongue eventually slipped into your mouth, but it never felt messy or rushed. You honestly didn't know how long he held you like this, but eventually he let you go to breathe when he started to feel you panting.

"This okay?" He asked barely above a whisper, the raspy ring of his voice filling your ears in a way that made your thighs unconscious clench against his leg. Which he definitely felt, but he kept that to himself.

"Yeah, more than okay." You answered with a breathless laugh.

"Good."

Both of his hands were on your waist and he was on his feet in an instant. He completely forgot about the pain shooting through his arm when he hoisted you around his hips. It caught you off guard and you were wrapping your legs around his torso instinctively.

"Simon your arm—"

"I don't give a shit about my arm." He had his uninjured arm holding your thighs and he was looking at you with this look in his eyes you had never seen from him, but you liked it.

You leaned down, lips crashing against his own with an urgency that made him want to find the bed even quicker. He eventually figured it out and your back was hitting the mattress before you even realized it. He held himself above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist. His lips left yours and attached themselves to your neck. He wouldn't leave a mark knowing everyone would see it, but he still took his time finding that spot that made you squirm under him while his own hands were making work of exploring. He ran a cautious hand into your shirt, calloused fingers grazing your skin until he found your breast, and he squeezed. You shivered under his touch and an unconscious moan escaped your lips. He could himself twitch against the constraint of his denim jeans at the mere sound. Fuck, if that's what you sounded when he barely touched you, he could only imagine what you would sound like wrapped around him. And he wondered when was the last time someone touched you like this. Probably as long as him.

"When was the last time someone touched you like this?" His words caught your ear in a haze, it took you a minute to register them, but when you felt him pitch your covered nipple you answered.

"I don't—” You swallowed, blinking a few times as you tried to clear your foggy mind, “A long time, years I think." You eventually answered, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to keep your head straight.

He gave you a quiet hum, his hand moving down to your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants, and he lifted his head to look at you, "Did you ever think about me touching you like this?"

The way his words left his mouth, the raspiness in his accented voice and coated with arousal, it made your throat close up, and the way his intense and dark eyes were fixated on you didn't help either. You felt so small under this mountain of a man and his gaze, all you could do was nod.

"Words love, use 'em."

“Yes.”

A subtle smirk tugged his lips, the confirmation that you had wanted him as much as he had wanted you igniting a hunger and need that could only be satiated with one thing. You.

He lifted his head to capture your lips in a feverish kiss that was so rough it made you gasp into his mouth. You snaked a hand the back of his head, one that quickly took a hold of his messy short brown strands, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by him. The growl that came from his throat was otherwise muffled by your lips, but what he did next, however, didn't go unnoticed either. His large hands found the collar of your shirt, and without hesitating, he tugged and ripped the fabric right in half. The moan that ripped from your throat at his manhandling was anything but subtle, and he swallowed it happily. He pulled back, tugging your bottom lip as he did so and his dark hungry eyes fixated on the newly exposed skin once he laid eyes on you. He took a hard swallow as his hands traveled to your chest and much like he had just done with your shirt, he ripped your bra open by the thin fabric that connected both cups.

“Fuck, look at you,” He breathed out, hands brushing over hardened nipples as he took in the sight of you in front of him, chest completely exposed, your hair loose and pooling around your head and arms now sprawled above your head, expectant and ready to do as he asked, “You’re absolutely perfect.”

“I could say the same about you,” You replied, breathless and reaching to tug at the hem of his own shirt with urgency. “Please Si.”

Fuck, how could he ever deny you anything? And more so when you ask him like that?

With a short nod, he moved his hands from your chest and grabbed the back of his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head. And fuck, the amount of gear this man wore definitely didn’t sell him short. His muscled chest was covered in various scars, ones you had seen, and others you hadn’t. And from his neck hung his dog tags, ones you had never ever seen him wear. Lord this man was going to be the death of you just as you were going to be his.

“Listen to me,” He said through a heavy breath, pulling you from your frenzied state for just a second, “If you want me to stop you tell me, no fancy words, tell me stop and I will. Is that understood?”

It took you a couple seconds to respond, your mind already foggy with the need to feel his touch, but you nodded at his words regardless, “Yes sir.”

Your hands found the back of his neck and you crashed your lips against his with a newly found urgency that made him groan into your mouth. His calloused hands found the waistband of your pants, and he tugged them down without hesitation. With a hard swallow you lifted your hips off the bed, allowing him to pull them down, your panties quickly following. He tossed them behind him somewhere to join his previously discarded vest and jacket.

He brushed a long finger through your folds, swallowing the choked out moan that came out of your mouth. You shuddered under him, your thighs unconsciously closing around his hand as he drew circles around the bundle of nerves. You didn’t even remember the last time you were touched by hands that weren’t you own, and fuck, his felt so much better already.

“No, no,” He tisked, pulling back to glance down at his hand practically disappearing between your thighs before he gave you a stern look, “Keep those legs open for me.”

You did as you were told, you shakily spread your legs apart, and you were rewarded with a thick finger dipping into your entrance with ease. He took a deep breath as he felt your walls clench around his finger and he could feel himself twitch in his pants, wondering just how you would feel around his cock instead.

With a hiss of pleasure, you threw your head back and your hips slightly lifted off the mattress as he filled you with two of his long fingers. He drew them in and out until he could feel you start to drip on the palm of his hand.

“Shit, shit, fuck.” Your lips fell open, silent cries leaving your mouth as he began to scissor you open with each snap of his wrist. It wasn't long before you could start to feel that delicious burn in the pit of your stomach.

His thumb eventually found your nub, he pressed it and rubbed circles around it as he buried his thick fingers to the knuckle each time. He could already feel it, the way your walls clenched around his fingers, your shuddering thighs, your hands fisting the sheets. His lips found the shell of your ear, and as he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot he spoke.

“You’re doing so good,” He coaxed, his thumb pressing your clit with enough force to make you twitch and roll your eyes into the back of your head, “This what you need love?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what?” He slammed his fingers knuckles deep, his palm rutting against your clit. He could have you screaming anything he wanted and he knew it.

“Yes Lieutenant!”

“Good. Good girl.”

He knew you were close, he could feel it. He was slamming his fingers in and out of you, burying them knuckle deep and crooking them against your most sensitive spot over and over. Until you were nothing more than a shaking and whimpering mess, begging for release. And he was gladly going to give it to you.

“O-oh fuck. Fuck Simon please!”

He nearly lost it when he heard you scream his name, your voice shaky with pleasure, and your own body overwhelmed with pleasure. But if there was anything he had a lot of, it was self control. He had a mission to accomplish. And he wasn’t going to stop until he had you falling apart under his touch. Which happened soon enough. One of your hands flew to grip his wrist, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your dripping core filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And in a quick flash of a blinding heat, you tossed your head and buried your face in his shoulder, your toes lifting from the mattress and curled as your juices coated his hand.

“Goddamn,” He cursed under his breath, the sound of his name leaving your mouth in a quiet whimper filling his ears as his fingers slowed, but never quite left you, “My name sounds so good when you say it like that.”

You barely caught his words as he spoke under his breath, but you did, and all you could say in response was a high pitched hum as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes were still screwed shut and your legs were still shaking when his fingers left you. With a quiet hiss, your head fell to the side as you brought a hand to your burning face, trying to compose yourself.

“You still with me Doctor?” Simon spoke, amusement coating his tone. You chuckled softly and gave him a nod. “I need verbal confirmation love.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him because you knew he was teasing you, but you indulged him regardless. You turned your head in his direction and opened your eyes to find his own glued to your face of course.

“Solid copy Lieutenant.” You finally said with a small eye roll. He looked amused, and he nodded. But what caught your attention was the growing smirk on his face as his eyes eventually landed on his hand as he held it out of your eyesight. “What’s so funny?”

“This,” He brought his hand closer to your face, and even through your slightly blurry vision, you could see it glisten. You opened your eyes more and your jaw dropped, your face burning with embarrassment. With a low chuckle, he rubbed his fingers together and then spread his index and middle finger apart to show the extent of the wetness you had left on his hand.

“Oh my god.” You threw your hands over your face, effectively mortified, you weren’t sure why, but it made you feel pathetic. Simon, on the other hand, was quite pleased.

“Gettin’ shy are we?” His lips brushed against your ear, and you couldn’t help but shove him slightly.

Both of your hands eventually fell to his chest as your eyes found his brown ones, and the look he found behind those eyes of yours made him want to take you over and over until you were nothing but a shaking and whimpering mess.

“Lay down Simon.” You eventually said, both hands flat on his scar littered chest. He took a deep breath and he nodded slowly.

“Yes ma’am.”

He was on his back in an instant, eyes never leaving you as you threw a leg over his hips and sat just above his crotch. Your thighs burned with ache as they were stretched out over his massive body. His hands held your hips as he watched you through hooded eyes, very tempted to shove you down on his cock, but he let you take your time, this time.

“Let me ride you, please.” Your words were quiet, pleading and desperate, and they shot straight to his cock. He honestly didn’t know where this side of you came from, pleading and so eager to please him, but fuck he wanted to explore every inch of it. His fingers dug into your hips, but he remained still, only nodding.

“Permission granted.” He replied with a quiet hiss, his patience growing thin the longer he had you on top of him, your wetness coating his lower abdomen. “Go on.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your shaky hands fumbled with his belt, the buckle ratling a few times as you tried to undo it, the button of his denim jeans quickly following. He momentarily closed his eyes when your hands brushed against his clothed erection. He blew out an exhale through his nose as he lifted you up just enough to be able to pull himself from the confines of his boxers. He let out a long breathy groan as he freed himself, his cock slapping against his stomach. With a hard swallow, you held yourself above his cock, hands resting against his lower abdomen to brace yourself as he lined himself up at your entrance, coating himself in your slick.

He was expecting you to take your time, to take him slowly, so when you sank down on him, his length slipping inside a few inches before being met with resistance, he had to take a deep breath.

“Easy..” He coaxed, easing a hand up and down your stretched out thighs, watching closely the way your eyes closed and your face twisted with a mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“Fuck you’re so big..” You blurted out between breaths. Simon opened his eyes in surprise at your remark, he knew he was significantly big, but he wasn’t expecting to hear you say it. But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his cock twitch the slightest bit.

“You’re doing good. Slow.” He spoke lowly, guiding your hips little by little, hissing softly each time you took another inch of him, until you sat fully on him, and even then you couldn’t fit all of him. He allowed himself to close his eyes as you sat still, your hips only rolling ever so slightly as you adjusted to the massive size of him. “There ya go, atta girl.”

When he felt you were ready, he guided your hips up, lifting you off his cock inch by agonizing inch, his eyes stuck to where his cock left your soaked cunt, and when he was almost all the way out, he pushed your hips down without a warning. You let out a quiet cry, you dug your nails into his abs and your thighs tensed. His eyes shot up to your face with concern and he sat still, but you were quickly shaking your head.

“I’m okay Simon, please.” Your eyes found his and you nodded reassuringly, teeth digging into your bottom lip eagerly. He squeezed your hips and nodded.

You were rocking and rolling your hips, your walls clutching his length with a bit of resistance. And you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up each time you rolled your hips. But he stayed still, only his fingers dug into your hips, surely to leave bruises in the morning. His eyes were closed and he was muttering under his breath as you moved at your own pace. For now.

“Fuck, come on love,” He encouraged, voice restrained as you eventually moved with more ease. His words gave you a new found confidence, and with such, you lifted yourself up and sank back down on him, and again, and again, until your whimpers turned into moans. “That’s it. Fuck that’s it, take what you need.”

You’d be damned if you didn’t do as he said.

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you bounced on his cock. His eyes moved from your face to where your bodies connected, he watched with glazed eyes as his cock disappeared inside your walls, only to appear again covered in your juices. He focused on it, the sound of his belt buckle clicking each time you bounced filling his ears.

“You’re taking my cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” His words came out through breathy groans as he guided your hips again and his own hips involuntarily lifted every once in a while.

“Please Simon, more, I want more— Fuck—”

He had to take in the way you whined his name, the way you begged, it was so fucking intoxicating and he never wanted to stop hearing it.

“Yeah? You want more?”

You were nodding frantically, your movements only doing so much to give you what you both needed and he knew it.

He sat up, his chest now pressed against yours as he sneaked his tattooed arm behind your back, holding you upright as he thrusted upwards. He found a pace quick, and even faster and deeper than the one you had made yourself. He had you twitching and shaking in his grip as cries ripped from your throat in a matter of a minute or two. And you definitely weren’t complaining, his cock was pounding deeper, hitting that perfect spot better than you could ever get it there yourself.

“Yes! Fuck, Simon please, please don’t stop.” You were begging frantically, your hands landing on his back and your nails dragged across his scar littered back and shoulders. He took in the way you pleaded, the way you moaned, and took particular note of the squeal you gave when his thick cock hit your g-spot with ease. And he did so, over, and over, until all you could say was his name between cries.

“Yeah, like that?” Again, and again his cock brushed against the perfect spot. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, your face was buried in his shoulder and tears slipped from your eyes.

“Yes!” You sobbed into his shoulder, your walls clenching around his cock in the same way you had around his fingers a little while before.

“Shit, come on, come on. Be a good girl and come for me.” He muttered, not once faltering his pace, only bringing you closer to the edge with each delicious drag of his cock. He slipped a hand into your hair, fingers fisting around the strand a as he pulled your head back, making sure you were looking at him, “Look at me, that’s it, keep those pretty eyes on me when you come.”

His name slipped from your tongue over and over as you came, somehow managing to keep your eyes open as your whole body shuddered violently. Tears slipped from your eyes as you sobbed his name and you brought your forehead to rest against his, one of your shaky hands resting on the back of his neck. The hand on your hair moved your face, and his fingers brushed against your cheek, catching your tears.

“Fuuuck, that’s fucking it. That’s my girl.” He groaned out as he fucked you through your orgasm.

He felt your wetness coat his cock even more, allowing him to slip just ever so deeply until he was nearly rutting against you, the patches of hair at the base of his cock brushing against your oversensitive clit. With a guttural groan, the hand on your face slipped to the base of your neck and he held it between his long fingers as he fucked into you with a new urgency, like he was chasing his own release. He fucked you like it too, his thrusts were sharper and shallow, and they faltered.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He muttered, droplets of sweats rolling from his forehead and mixing with the already messy grease paint covering his eyes. His forehead fell to your chest as held your neck in place, “I’m right there… Fuck I—”

He was about to pull himself out of you, but you slipped out from your drunkenly euphoric state for just a second to slam down on his cock until your hips met, hands on his shoulders as you sank down on him with enough force to slip a breathy moan from him.

“I have an IUD. I-I want you to, please.” You said shakily into his ear, your words barely coherent, but you knew what you meant, and he did too.

A low growl ripped from his throat as he gave you a few more thrusts before his hips faltered, his other hand found your ass and he held you down on his cock. His fingers squeezed your throat and a guttural moan left his lips as he spilled himself inside you.

“Bloody fuckin' Christ,” he panted into your chest, most likely smearing his war paint on your chest, but you honestly didn’t give a fuck. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

You gave him a weak hum, eyes closing as you tried to breathe once he let go of your neck. “I’m guessing your arm doesn’t hurt anymore?” You laughed weakly, brushing a hand under the gauze you had placed there earlier.

He lifted his head, brown eyes as intense as ever as he slightly tilted his head, “What arm?”

You shot him a playful glare and shook your head as you unwrapped yourself from him and with a long breath of exhaustion, landed on your back next to him, your mixed releases dripping down your thigh. He chuckled quietly to himself at the sight of his jeans, mixed releases pooling at the front of the denim. With a sigh, he tucked himself into his boxers, catching a glance of you, chest still glistening with sweat, hair messy and pooling above your head as you lied with closed eyes. He shook his head, about to stand up to find something to clean his mess with when you spoke.

“Simon?” His eyes found yours on him and he nodded, allowing you to continue. You bit your lip and sat up with a sharp exhale, your sore muscles already screaming at you for your reckless activities, “How long have we known each other?”

The question hit him unexpectedly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed but he answered quickly, not even having to think about it, “About three years.”

“Why did you take your mask off now?” You dared to ask, the curiosity of what suddenly changed eating you up.

His lips fell in a flat line, his eyes opening as he remembered that he had, in fact, taken his mask off, he had felt so comfortable that he had forgotten he wasn’t wearing it. He didn't answer right away, he sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving you as you watched him expectant. You brought the sheets up to your chest, bringing them with you as you moved closer to him, until your shoulder was touching his. You looked up at him, but you never rushed him, you simply waited patiently.

“When the heli crashed,” He began, “I knew I was going to die. And I was ready to die. And then I thought..” His lips fell in a flat line again as he turned his head to look at you. Your eyes were glossy, but you didn’t cry, you simply nodded for him to continue, “All I could think about in that moment is that I was going to leave this world when the only woman I had ever cared about didn’t even know what I looked like.”

Your lips fell open and your eyes widened with awe. He didn’t have to say the words, you knew what he meant.

“Simon…”

“Either of us could die at any moment, I realized that when I carried your unconscious body through that field, and I realized it when the heli crashed, didn’t make sense to pretend I don’t give a shit about you.”

Your hand found his face and you pulled him down into a deep kiss, one that said everything you both needed to say, everything you couldn’t say with words.

You were the remedy to all his injuries and the bandage to his damaged heart. You were all he needed and he’d be damned if he let that go.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley

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destructive-path · 6 months

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Fan. - E.W.

a/n: Hi! This is the first one shot i have ever written so i would appreciate some feedback in the comments please! (but pls be nice) This is ur average ao3 coded fic with no proofread and bad grammar to ease you in to what i plan on posting if all goes well!

summary - jackson au where basically the entire pt.2 never happened, Ellie is older, Joel is alive. Instead of falling for Dina, Ellie has a fascination with a girl (you) that swims at the local creek near jackson.

( I imagine farm ellie looks here bc im a mullet enthusiast )

warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY mdni, smut, kissing, mentions of sex, fingering (r receiving), service top! ellie, sub! reader, oral (r receiving), pet names,

word count : 8.5K (I KNOW SHE’S A BIT HEFTY BUT ITS WORTH IT IMO)

Jackson summers were painfully hot. Maybe it was the effects of the extensive bombing that took place when everything went to shit. Or maybe it was just living in the apocalypse that made everything unbearable. Everything was out to kill you, including the heat. Great.

You could cut the air with a knife. In this time of scarce recourses there wasn’t a lot of remedies people could access to alleviate the sheer heat that surrounded them. There was an occasional establishment in city limits that was graced with a limited amount of air conditioning. (In summers jackson preserved the generators for more important things) Although it never really stayed cool for long anyways because every citizen that wasn’t on patrol or working an assigned shift could be found in one of these buildings.

Fans were like gold during these times. If you were lucky to have one it was most likely scored on patrol, which was rare. So whatever chance you got, you found yourself at a creek just outside of jacksons walls to cool down. It was a flowing stream that kept cool year round, surrounded with trees and engulfed in shade from the sun.

Lots of people your age could be found there during these excruciating summer days. Mostly young adults, those old enough to be assigned on patrol with the exception of the occasional teenager. It was a safe space for younger people to get away from the effects that summer had on authority figures of jackson. To be fair the heat made everyone a little irritable, but you could only take so much.

You had almost made it to your sacred spot before a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey there little minnow” A soft but somewhat gruff voice states behind you.

You must have been so consumed with getting to your destination that you had failed to hear the footsteps of your fairly recently acquainted swimming partner close behind you.

It wasn’t an intentional initial meet cute, one day while you were enjoying your solitude she emerged from the trees. Her eyes were wondering in search of something but when they landed on you in the water, the curious stare faded and she asked if she could join you. You Accepted.

She wasn’t always there when you were but you had begun to notice that she has been attending the spot more frequently the past few weeks. You never said many words to each other, both using this time as more of a solitary escape than a social vacation. You couldn’t deny though, she had a presence that felt intimidating…yet comforting? So you never dismissed her. Maybe just admired observed her unique demeanor from a distance. Only ever exchanging words on occasion.

You slowly spun around to face her, taken aback by the new nickname that left her lips.

“Minnow?” You state teasingly, your raised brow coaxing a chuckle out of the girl.

“Ive seen you out here almost everyday.”

She looks down in a sort of bashful way. Clutching the strings of her bag on her shoulders in a fidgety manner.

“Like this creek is your home or something…honestly now that im thinking about it I dont know if Ive ever seen you anywhere in jackson but here.” She scratches the back of her neck and repositions upright. The bottom of her shirt lifts at the tug of her elbow upwards to gain better access to her neck. This action exposes her slightly tanned stomach and a v line practically begging you to stare at it.

You inhale. As you think about the times you have laid eyes on her you realize its always been the way she looks now. A slightly grown out mullet pushed back with a thin black headband, some sort of sports bra underneath a slightly cropped muscle tee, with short swimming trunks that stop a little less than halfway on her thighs. She always had slightly sun kissed cheeks and freckles that decorate her entire face in various places. Exhale. Maybe you do come here too much.

“I could say the same for you too, you know. This was my spot first.” You rebuttal in a playful tone, crossing your arms.

The young woman throws her hands up in defense and steps a little closer to you. You can see a layer of sweat rolling off her now.

“Fair, fair…you dont mind do you? Every other corner of this stream but this one is overrun by like- loud jackson youths. I just need somewhere I can cool down and relax. Away from the noise you know? If im honest the only reason I found this place is because I saw you sneaking away from the usual crowded section.”

Her eyes meet yours in search of something. Acceptance? Maybe just a sign that you dont think shes a creep? You cant help but blush at the thought of her eyes following you, curious of your endeavors.

She notices this.

“Its fine.” You state calmly. Genuinely. Which makes her smile as she watches you turn on your heels to continue to the stream.

“Just as long as you dont call me a minnow anymore…” You pause. In search of her name. You remember she told you the first time she swam with you.

“…Ellie. Right?” You keep walking ahead listening to her steps slightly behind you.

“Right. And got it, no more fish related nicknames. I like swimming here with you. Id hate to fuck it up.” You can hear the smirk in her tone. You try to shake it off but you cant. She enjoys your time together…Noted.

—

You make it to the edge of the stream and stop at a patch of grass where you normally put your things. This time Ellie settles next to you instead of her usual spot a few patches over.

“Can I ask why you come here so much? I feel like you have to be half fish.” You laugh at this, taking a liking to her humorous side as opposed to the usual quietness you are used to.

“Pretty much the same reason you do. That, and I dont have a fan in my room, so this is the only way I can stay cool in summer. ” You reply as you began to remove the clothes that served as a sort of practical cover up from the journey from your house to the stream.

Ellie hums in response and watches as you peel of the top that was clinging you your body on the walk here. Revealing the only bikini u had the luck of finding in this current state of the world. You were now only in your swim suit peering down at your own reflection in the water. Ellie stands up behind you, motivated by your new state and removes her black headband and muscle tee then tosses them ontop of her own belongings as she makes her way to stand next to you by the stream.

She is close. Closer than shes ever been before, which isnt even really THAT close. But for some reason its enough for you to notice. You can smell her now. The need to sneak a look at her state from this distance overcomes you. You can see some scars on her face you didnt notice before. A small pit in your stomach begins to form and u turn to look back at your own reflection in the water. Her gaze averts away from the stream and towards your direction. You shift your eyes to look at her reflection in the water until you muster enough strength to meet her gaze next to you. Ellies mullet has now fallen around her face and is stuck to her temples and forehead due to the heat. The green in her eyes impossible to ignore, almost as if they were daring you to swim in them and not the water next to you. The pit in your stomach grows a little larger but you cant think of anything to say. Luckily (as if she read your mind) she speaks up.

“Jump in on three?” She asks. You Nod.

“One” says ellie

“Twooo” You drag

“THREE!” You both shout and finally break eye-contact to jump into the cold water.

This day was different than the others, you both knew it.

—

After swimming for what felt like no time at all, (but both of you determined had been several hours due to the sun’s dramatic new position) you decided to leave the coldness of the water and return back to jackson city limits.

The walk back was silent. A juxtaposition to the time you two had spent together in the water. Maybe you were silently soaking in all the information you had learned about Ellie or maybe it was because your time together was almost over. This swim session was filled with questions about each other, statements about jackson and various basic getting to know each other things. Ellies questions were unique. She asked you things no one had before. It was as if she was desperate to know you, like she had already had an arsenal of questions ready for the moment you two had finally decided to get to know each other. Your questions came naturally, but still revealed a side to her that you could never predict yourself.

She was an artist. She was a killer, of man and monster alike. Mostly everyone was these days. Although, her stories and the journey it took to get Jackson was something you would never forget. Ellie loved jokes and comics and space. Nerd. She asked you lots (lots) of questions about your own theories of how the universe worked. You could tell your perspective was as interesting to her as the subject itself. You told her about your own interests which also seemed to dazzle her in a way even you couldn’t explain. Getting to know each other reminded you of reading a really good book, or traveling to somewhere new. Theres was so much to learn. So much to still unravel, details to notice. You didn’t want to stop getting to know Ellie. And she didn’t want to stop talking to you.

So the silent walk back was interrupted by Ellies voice.

“Um-you mentioned you dont have a fan in your room?” She asks, already knowing the answer but mostly seeing if you would fall into the trap she had been asking herself the entire walk back to jackson if she should set. You shake your head and respond.

“I do not unfortunately. Never got lucky enough on patrol to find one. I look every time though, and nothing. My guess is all of the ones within our patrol areas got taken by jackson citizens. If I wanted to find one these days I would probably have to journey for miles.” You state plainly. Curious why she asked, so you ask.

“Why?”

She looks up from her shifting feet.

“Well, I uh- have one. In my room…A fan. If you were still feeling hot.”

She steps closer.

“We could go there and continue to cool down...” Shes looking directly at you again. Her green eyes are begging for you to accept her seemingly gracious (but really somewhat selfish) offer. You cant help but swallow, hard.

You accept and she leads you to her place.

—

As you enter Ellies home everything she had told you at the creek before makes more sense. Its almost as if her personality had been stripped from her and placed on the walls and shelves around you. You had never seen a room with so much stuff. A part of you was curious on how she had collected so many items over the years. These days you had forgotten that was an option, you had become too consumed by other things to remember to have a personality of your own to decorate your home with.

You liked it in her room. Well liked was an understatement. You silently paced around the space taking note of everything you saw. Posters, figurines, lots of books and comics. You began to notice her art that was sprawled all over the room in various corners. She was talented. You noticed a guitar and a record player with lots of vinyls next to it. She had mentioned a guardian of hers had a large influence on her love for music. You made a mental note to make sure she showed you her appreciation for music sometime. As you continued to take in everything in silence, Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off you. She watched the way you hesitantly touched the occasional item. Her stomach did flips each time you stared a little longer than normal at a sketch or painting you had discovered around the space. Each little hmm or ah that exited your mouth left her with a mountain of curiosity. She wanted to know every thought behind every item you saw. She was overwhelmed by your presence in her space. You were here. Admiring her things, in her room, alone with her.

“So, what do you think?” Ellies asks.

“Of your room?”

“No of the fan.” She gestures to a grey fan slowly moving side to side placed near the corner of her bed.

“Oh. Its nice.”

“Im joking. Just nice?”

“Jerk. Your room is cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. I like your art.”

Ellie gestures to the art you have been observing for the last few minutes.

“Oh you mean this art?” She asks in a playfully sarcastic tone. You catch her smirking this time, not wanting to give her the full satisfaction so you decide to continue with the playful dialogue she has struck.

“Mmmhm, Id like to meet the artist someday. Do you think you could introduce me?” You ask. Now mirroring Ellie’s smirk.

“Woooooow.” She scoffs in response only making your smirk turn into a much wider grin.

“Ohhh!” You continue your game. Ellie continues to laugh whilst matching the increasing smile now on both of your faces.

“Is this? This cant be your art? I mean its actually good. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a young van gogh.” You tease. Hoping you didn’t offend her with the comparison to the only artist you could remember. Now you are both laughing.

“Oh come on.” She rolls her eyes.

“Im no Van gogh.” She states boldly. Your laughter dies down slightly as you both continue to stare at a painting she had been working on. She turned her gaze back to you.

“You know Van goh was like, criminally underrated in his prime? He was deemed untalented by those who viewed his work when he was alive.” You smiled at the knowledge she decided to share with you.

“Ah so you do have something in common.” you turn to face her fighting a smile, wanting to see her reaction.

“Ohhh okay… whos the jerk now?” She asks as her head tilts slightly to the side, lips back in smirk position.

You dont respond immediately. Soaking in the effortlessness of you and Ellies rebuttal. You search for words to change the subject, but, in this moment you cant help but notice her current state. Shes in diffferent clothes now. The change must have happened as you were distracted admiring ellies room. She was dressed in dark blue boxers and a white longsleeve sleep shirt with the top two silver buttons left unclasped. The longsleeve was slightly oversized and stopped just above her waist with the sleeves pushed to her elbows. Her boxers were slightly shorter than the swimming trunks you were used to. The pit in your stomach had reappeared again. Noticing her now dry hair didnt help much either. It was very much disheveled sticking out every which way. Ellies fringe framed her face in a way that made your cheeks turn red. It was only then, when the heat on your face was significantly more prominent did you realize how long you had been staring.

Your gaze returns to Ellies eyes and the playful demeanor she once had was gone. Instead it was replaced with something much more. Her eyebrows were knit and her bottom lip was now under them punishment of her teeth. She looked at you as if you were a painting. Not one in a museum, more like one of her own. A piece of art she could only imagine in her head. A blank canvas she needed to decorate. Afraid one wrong stroke could ruin you. She looked at your arms, legs, stomach, chest. Ellie studied you with such intensity you thought you would dissolve under her stare. Your breathing increased. You swallow hard.

“Ellie.” You say, hoping to ease her piercing stare. Its no use. Shes lost in the observation of you.

She stands from her sitting position and slowly walks towards your direction, still saying nothing. Ellie still hadnt made direct eye contact for a while, so you took this moment to look at her face. You wanted to notice every facial expression she made whilst discovering your body. You watched her mouth part to support the fact that she was now breathing as hard as you were. With every step ellie inched closer you spotted something new. A freckle or scar, the slight pink of her lips, the twinge of brown in her astonishingly green irises.

She was inches away from you now, still refusing to acknowledge your eyes. Your instincts made u step away from her like two negative sides of a magnet. The more she moved into you the more you moved away. There wasnt much room for you to avert her. You continued this dance until you were met with the hardness of her desk behind you. The solid surface made contact with the lower half of your behind, leaving you no choice but to seize your movements away from ellies unwavering advances.

She stops and places her hands on either side of you. Your trapped now. Ellie is gripping her desk like she would fall over if she didn’t. Shes so close yet not touching you at all. Your breaths are now synched. You look at ellies neck and see her swallow hard. When you look at her face she still hasn’t gained the bravery to look you in the eye. Instead she has her eyes fixed on your slightly parted lips. She looks at them as if they were a cold glass of water just out of reach. A perfectly good dessert thrown in the trash. She looked at your lips as if she needed them to stay alive. Like it was painful.

How did you get here? One moment you two had been playful and lighthearted and now the room was filled with tension as thick as the hot air outside. The pit in your stomach returned with a great force.

Noticing this, you decided to be brave. You allowed your tongue to swipe itself through the part of your lips, wetting them for whatever was to come next. Ellie let out a shakey sigh of relief. Followed by a soft hum. Her head lowered in order to get a closer look at your newly damp lips, her eyebrows knit even more at the sight of them from this new angle.

Slowly but steadily her hand began to rise from its grip on the desk behind you. Her palm inched closer and closer to your face. Only until her hand had risen past your shoulders did you notice its presence, distracted by the concentration in her eyes. She froze for a moment molding her hand into a lazy cuping formation mere centimeters from your cheek.

She was shaking. Ellies breathing had picked up slightly. You took this opportunity to look away from her hand and back to her eyes, still not on yours. The painful yearning look was still painted on her face. As if she ran a marathon in order to connect with you but couldnt go the last mile, like she needed your permission to cross the finish line. So you moved your head forward and slowly wiggled into the crescent her long and slender fingers had formed so close to your face. As if you were begging her to become your own personal champion. You wanted to be her prize. Ellies breathing stopped.

For a moment there was pure silence. Every sound around you from the fan by the corner of her bed to the hum of jackson civilization became muffled. Everything in you ached for her finish what you two had started, whatever it was.

You leaned into the warmth her fingers provided biting back a whine for something more. Only then, when Ellie noticed you dripping with desperation did the first words in several minutes get uttered.

“Can I kiss you?” Ellie whispers in a low tone. You were sure you wouldnt have been able to hear it if she hadnt been so close. The heat emitting from her hand on your flushed cheek had become scalding. Unable to utter a word because you were afraid your voice might crack, you nod.

Ellie mirrors your prior actions and licks her own lips to alleviate the dryness her heavy breathing had caused. Green eyes still trained on your parted lips.

You feel the soft grasp she has on your cheek shift slightly. Her thumb strokes your cheek unbearably slow, inching closer and closer until it finds its place at the corner of your mouth. She pauses for a second, inhales-then swipes the digit slowly across your lower lip. This causes you to inhale deeply. Ellie had barely touched you at all, her intimate gesture crumbled what ever composure you thought you had left. You were going mad and extremely needy. Heart racing faster than ever. Then once she was done with the first touch your bottom lip, she swipes her finger even slower back across your top one. You swear the roughness of her finger tip is stained in your memory forever.

This causes you to become weak.

You sink into the desk behind you slightly leaning on it due to the fact that your knees no longer seemed to function. Ellie becomes the support of your head as your neck becomes limp after she had taken whatever strength you had at the delicate touch of your lips. Fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

You start to think its impossible for Ellie to look you in the eye. She had become entranced by your lips. You have yet to look away from her eyes which were still focused on the one place you wanted her most. It was evil that she has yet to meet your stare.

“Ellie..” You whispered once more. Yearning for something, anything. Then, as if she could hear your thoughts before they left your mouth for the second time today (at this point you were convinced) she began to grant you your wish.

Ellie pressed her head against yours for a moment and exhaled. “What are you doing to me?” She asks, in that painful tone you saw oozing out of her demeanor earlier. You cant find the words because you honestly dont know what you have done to make her want you this way. All you can think, see, hear is Ellie, ellieellieellieellieellie. So instead you plead for her. “Please look at me Ellie.”

She becomes more malleable each time you utter her name.

Ellies eyes rose to meet yours. Finally. Then your lips meet. It was as if your stare had pulled her in. When eye contact had been made she couldn’t stay away anymore. You thought that was maybe why it took her so long to return her gaze to yours. If she did, she couldn’t stop herself from doing whatever she wanted with you. But you didn’t care. You needed Ellie.

You both sigh into the kiss, eye contact unbroken for a moment. Sure most people would consider open eyes during this moment strange, it didn’t bother you though. It had felt like eons since she had graced you with direct eye contact. You needed it so desperately you refused to look away. So did she. So you kissed like this for a moment.

Her eyebrows had scrunched together again at the sight of your own eyes trained on hers, matching desperation. This made you sink even further into her grasp. Finally finding the courage to reach out and grab onto her, you placed your hands on either side of her waist pulling her into you. This new closeness made both of your eyes snap shut. You swam in the feeling of her lips on yours. She was as comforting as the stream that had brought you together.

Ellie was remarkably soft. Images of her once rugged state appeared in your head furthering the intensity you were feeling. How could someone who appeared so tough, be so malleable? So gentle? The curiosity made you whine for more. More and so much more. Her lips belonged on yours. Each slip and slide of your swollen pink lips on each other further ignited what you both thought was long gone. You couldn’t stay silent, moans and whimpers escaping from you left and right. This only made Ellie hold you tighter. Kiss you harder.

She ran her hands to the underside of your exposed thighs until her hands were where she wanted them. Her grip tightened on your skin as she lifted you onto her desk. Painting materials shifted behind you due to your presence. This action caused you to squeal slightly, which drove Ellie mad. She grabbed your waist and brought your clothed core against her own. This new position made Ellie moan into your mouth.

It was a sound that made your whole body become hot. The once soft kiss had turned into a dance for dominance. Your hands traveled from her waist to the back of her mullet due to the new position. You tugged on Ellies hair as if it would bring you closer in her already impossibly tight embrace. This action coaxed another moan out of her mouth against your lips and she broke contact for the first time in what felt like hours. Ellie left her forehead connected with yours and suddenly she was back to her harsh breathing state.

“Shit.” She curses and breaks her gaze on your swollen lips to meet eyes that are already trained on her. “Your driving me crazy” She pecks your lips. “Those pretty fucking noises you make are driving me crazy baby.” Ellie states in that dangerously intoxicating tone. You both breathe harshly. You can still feel her hands on the small of your back underneath your shirt.

A devilish grin forms on your lips which turns into a breathy laugh coming from both parties. She interrupts your laughter with another peck on your lips. and another. and another. You are both still laughing. You cant tell if its because everything was moving so fast or because how good you feel in this moment. Thats a conversation for later.

“You taste-“ Ellie starts in a whisper.

“Like the lake?” You cut her off.

She laughs at your answer and deepens the kiss once more. “Mhhmm” She hums into your mouth. Then pulls away.

“Wait how did you know?”

“Because you taste like the lake.” You moan back pulling her in to kiss you again. She pulls away.

“Shit, is it bad?” She inquires in a concerning voice.

“Do I taste bad?” You ask.

“No, you taste like fresh water and the feeling of outside? Its like oddly addicting.” Shes scratching your back now and it’s making your head spin.

“Good. You dont taste bad either. You taste really good actually.” You say shakily. Your brain has become foggy due to Ellies-well everything. Her smell, her voice, her hands on your body.

“Yeah?” She asks and leans back to observe the effect she has on you. Ellie loves how out of it you are. She needs more.

You nod slowly and hum whilst wrapping your hands around her neck again to pull her head closer to yours. Before she can enclose the space between you, she whispers something against your lips.

“Can I lay you down on my bed pretty baby?” Shes begging you now. Ellie is drunk on your touch and reassurance. You mistake her desperation for confidence at the new nickname for you that leaves her lips. You cant do any thing but whine and wrap yourself around her. Legs surround her waist and arms settled on her broad shoulders. You crane your head against her neck and whisper your response in her ear.

“Please Ellie.” You drag out slowly. She shivers at the feeling of your breath against her neck. Ellie runs her hands over your legs making sure you are securely wrapped around her. Then she grasps your butt to lift you off her cluttered desk. The grip she has on you there sends a shock to your core. You cant help but moan and sink further into the crook of her neck. She chuckles at your sensitivity to her touch. Which only sends you further into bliss. Theres something so tantalizing about the fact that you were falling apart so easily and you had barely been touched. You both could feel it. Ellie holds you close until she reaches her bed and gently places you on her dark green covers.

Almost as soon as you hit the mattress she was on you again. Ellie had one hand on the side of your stomach just above your waist. She had slipped that hand under the shirt you had on and was touching your skin directly. Her other hand was propped in a way that help her upper body stay upright, but her lower half was slotted in between you. You continued making out like this.

The friction of your bodies was becoming more and more intense. The hand that was touching you began exploring your body. From caressing your stomach to your back and down to your butt to pull you closer into her lower half. “So soft.” Ellie barely whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

Your hands had found their way underneath ellies shirt and clawed at her back desperately. You tried to mirror her caresses of you on her back, but her touch and kiss was so overwhelming all you could do was grasp at nothing but skin. Leaving scratches she would sport proudly at a later time.

“Your body feels so good against mine.” She says against your ear making your hips buck up to hers. The slotted position makes your core connect with her thigh. And your thigh to her core. Ellie hissies and grips your hips in that position so you cant move as she rolls her own hips into yours. This action elicits a moan from you both. Foreheads connect as Ellie swears against your mouth. “Fuuuuck.” She continues the movement of her hips in an achingly slow manner. You both cant believe how good it feels and you tell her that you need-

“More. I need more.”

“Yeah?” She moans. This is when Ellie realizes you both are fully clothed. She moves her hands from your hips to your back and sits you both up. You pull back from your closeness to look at her for a moment, wondering what her actions would lead to next.

You take her current state in. Ellie is completely disheveled. She looks so fucked out in-front of you. You blush at the thought that its because of you. The mess of her mullet, the sweat on her temples, her flushed cheeks and glossed puffy lips. All your doing. If she looks this good now you were definitely a goner for whatever she had in store.

Ellie maneuvers herself so she can sit in between your legs. She takes in your spread out position on display for her, then looks at you.

“Im getting hot in these clothes.” She says as her hands move back to their place under your shirt. You exhale at the feeling of her fingers tracing your sides.

“M-Me too.” You whisper.

The heat building in you as she moves her hands up your sides as your top bunches at her wrists the higher they venture up your body. When her hands find their place just below the pits of your arms you lift them above your head and let her remove the damp fabric from your body. Ellie hooks her fingers into your shorts and states-

“Lift your hips baby.” You should’ve known to do this. But you were far too distracted by the way she looked undressing you. That same sort of nervousness from earlier (when she refused to look you in the eye) filled her demeanor. So when she snapped you back to earth with her voice you had to ask her to repeat herself. Instead of vocalizing her needs she took matters into her own hands. Ellie leaned over you and grasped your hips to lift upward. This caused you to fall on your back and gasp as she shimmied your shorts down your legs. When she pulled them off you completely, her hands dragged back up your legs to spread you open and move them back in their position on either side of her. She pulled you closer so that she could move her hands up and down your thighs and take you in for a moment.

Her eyes on you in this position made you grow wet. You have nothing but your swimsuit on now. Which was in a different type of way than what she saw you in earlier. This was 10x more intimate, you feel exposed. Dirty.

You are nearly naked with your legs open due to Ellie putting them there. Now it was your turn to look a mess. Fucked and blushing without even being touched in your leaking center.

Her bottom lip is pushed out into a pout and her head cocked to the side. Ellie sighed deeply like she pitied you. Like you were a toy left at her dispense to play with for as long as she wanted.

The darkness that slowly seeped into her eyes made you embarrassed at your exposed state. You didn’t want her to think you had abandoned all of your composure and willpower. You wanted to surprise her. You brought your hand behind your neck and lifted it slightly so you could untie the swim suit top you had on. As the strings fell apart on either side of your head Ellies breath hitched. Then you lifted your back and pulled the bow placed there loose. You never broke eye contact with her. There was no support on your chest now. This left the swimsuit to act as a mere barrier between your breasts being fully exposed to Ellie. Instead of removing the piece yourself you asked-

“Will you touch me Ellie?”

The way her name exited your lips drove Ellie insane. She let out a shakey breath and brought her hands to your ribcage. Each time her fingers met your skin its like the first. Your stomach flips and the temperature rises in your head fogging your brain. Ellies touch had you reeling. Slowly she raises her hands up your sides until she is grasping your fully exposed chest in her palms. Shes shaking.

“God.” She breaths out.

You cant help but whine at the contact. Instinctively your chest rises with her grasp causing your back to lift off the bed making Ellie bite her lip as her chest rises and falls. She kneads the soft skin and you squirm under her touch. Her hands are impossibly hot against your skin. The sounds coming from you only encouraging her more.

“Fuck baby.” She whispers to herself again. “Look at you.”

She spreads her hands to reveal your perky nipples. Painfully hard from her touch. Shes salivating now. Her mouth remains parted as she inhales harshly, tongue constantly swiping and swirling around her lips to keep from drooling. Ellie runs her thumbs over your sensitive buds, taking you back to moments earlier when she did the same to your lips. The roughness of them still not lost on you, you sigh from her touch.

She playes with you like this until you cant take anymore. With every knead and tug on your breasts, your pussy became more wet. The puddle forming underneath you was not ignored by Ellie. She simply wanted to take her time with you. But you were growing impatient, you needed relief.

“Mmmno more.” You grabbed her wrists to stop her movements. She tried to continue but your grasp was so strong she had no luck. So instead she leaned down to your chest and blew cool air on your right nipple causing you to bite back a moan.

“You all done baby? Cant take anymore?” She continued to blow on your chest. Your whole body shivered. She moved to the left nipple.

“I havent even kissed you here yet…” Her tone had you spinning. She sounded sad. Deprived. Shit.

“Mmmfine. Y-You can keep going. But not for too long, I need you Ellie.” You managed to get out. She gave you a look of affection and relief. Like you gave Ellie her life back. She nodded and reassured you.

“I promise I wont tease you for too much longer, I just want to savor you. You are just sooo pretty baby.”

Your head fell back against the mattress at her words. You have never heard something so intoxicating to your ear drums. Ellie sounding desperate to have you sent you even further into bliss. Then she brought you a new wave of pleasure when her soft lips came in contact with your raw nipples, sensitive and red from her teasing. She sucked the pain of her previous actions away. Ellies tongue swirled around your areolas and flicked across your aching buds. You could no longer stay silent. Your hands flew to Ellies Mullet and scratched at her scalp at her undying progressions on your body. You were a mess of “Ohs and Ahs” urging her to continue as she switched to your neglected breast causing you to go through the motions once more. This went on for what felt like forever, then Ellie finally detached.

“Wait-“ You whined at the loss.

“Shh shh. Im going to take care of you now.” She says against your lips before kissing you again.

You dissolve into her kiss. Its wetter now, the saliva from making a mess of your tits had coated her lips. Everthing had become sloppy. Ellie kissed you as she fumbled out of her boxers and white sleep shirt. Leaving her more exposed than you were, seeing as all you had left to reveal to her was your soaked cunt hidden by your bikini bottoms.

But first you admired her. She was beautiful. Lean and strong. Her frame was small but she somehow had muscle everywhere you looked. The longer you stared the hazier your mind became.

“You’re beautiful.” It comes out of your mouth like a waterfall, so fast you couldn’t stop yourself. You inhale a sharp breath and blush from embarrassment.

“Thank you pretty.” She says in a slight chuckle. When she had enough of the attention on her she began to slot herself against you once more. Bringing together your two hot, now exposed bodies.

“Oh my god.” She breathed.

The feeling on skin to skin contact was a drug. She lay barely ontop of you as you collided. Her exposed cunt was moving and grinding on your thigh messily with no rhythm. Ellie was using your body. Hands exploring each other like it was your job. You were drunk on the feeling of her body on yours. You were jealous at the relief she was getting from you, but it had also sparked something deep inside you. You kissed like this until Ellie had moved her lips to your neck. She sucked there for a moment, making sure to leave a mark. Her hips had lifted as she moved lower down your body. She kissed your collarbones, the valley between your breasts, stomach, belly button. Until she kissed you at the center of your swimming bottoms. Then she moved lower and finally kissed you right on your clothed core ontop of your puffy clit.

“Oh shit” You breathed. You were incredibly sensitive.

She looked up at you from her new spot settled between your legs. Ellie gave u a pleading look. Laced with lust and desperation. She needed to taste you. Now. You gave her a nod of approval and moved to remove your swim bottoms before she stopped you.

“Keep them on.”

There it was again, that tone that drove u crazy. How could you deny her? You wanted to tell her that it wasn’t fair because she was more undressed than you were. But when she sounded like that, and looked like that, between your legs no less…all you could do was nod and watch. Ellie hooked her finger into the side of your suit and tugged them upward creating friction between you and the fabric on your clit. The sensation made u grasp at the comforter underneath you. You tried to hard not to rock your hips, at least not yet. You were sure if you moved any more than what ellie was already doing you would snap. Ellie brought her free hand to her mouth and spat. The sound caused you to twitch. Which she noticed.

“How does this feel baby? Do my fingers feel good? They making u wet baby? Hmm?” It wasn’t a condescending tone. She wanted to make sure you felt good. Really.

Ellie had began to circle her slick digits around your sensitive mound. She would occasionally drag her fingers up and down the sides of your exposed lips. Sending you into a frenzy.

“Y-Yeah…” Your overwhelmed shy tone wasn’t enough to convince her that she should continue.

“Yeah? You sure?” her expression is almost teasing now. Eyebrow raised and grin apparent. You were under her spell.

“Yes! Yes…Feels too good Ellie.” You almost shout. Your voice is tinged with pain and pleasure. The good kind of pain. The you needed release and you needed it now, pain. Finally satisfied with your response Ellie massages you harder, tugs at your swimsuit harsher. The sight of your arched back and agape mouth only made the need to taste the continuous slick pouring out of you unbearable. Ellie needed to take action. Now.

You yelp as Ellie unexpectedly tears your swimsuit down your legs and wets her fingers in your slick. Then she is face to face with your dripping cunt.

“Im gonna kiss you down here now okay? I cant wait anymore…you look too delicious, soo beautiful.” The words ooze out of her perfect mouth.

You sit up to watch as Ellie places a delicate kiss on your clit. You’re shaking now. She repeats this up and down your pussy a few times never breaking eye contact. Each kiss sends you deeper and deeper into the pit of pure euphoria.

“Ohhh fuckk Ellie—.”

You think it cant get any better until Ellie flattens her tongue and begins to lap at the pool of slick pouring out of you. She sinks her tongue into your folds sucking, kissing and licking every surface of your overstimulated core. You are nearly screaming now. You hadn’t even come yet. It was approaching fast, you were trying so desperately to release, you were just so damn hot. Too hot. You pat the soft top of ellies hair and she stops her antics to meet your gaze.

“You dont like it?”

You shake your head harshly and tell her that you’ve never felt so good.

“Whats wrong then baby?” She gives you a look of genuine concern.

“M-Hot Ellie, I feel like im going to pass out.”

Ellie gives u those pitty eyes again and your weak. “Oh babyyy.” You hear her pout. She lays u flat on your back once more and pushes your body to the corner of the bed. At first you question her methods but then remember the savior device that persuaded you to come here in the first place.

Ellie leans over u to halt the rotation function of her fan and dials the speed up to 3. Now cool air is flooding your senses and bringing you back to earth. Ellie finds her position back in between your legs and continues her earlier routine. Instantly your brought back to your breaking point. Something about the heat between your legs and the cool air at your front was driving you insane.

“Better?” Ellie questions as she continues to suck hard on your clit. Already knowing the answer based on the way your body is reacting. You cant even answer you are so consumed in the pleasure of the movement of her fingers and the breeze of the fan. The cool air has made you dumb. Ellie had made you weak. Still, she needed to hear you say it. So she teases her middle finger at your entrance to get an answer out of you.

“I need you to tell me if you feel better pretty girl, or Im going to have to stop.”

That was the last thing you wanted. Your hands left the sheets and found their way to her hair, eyes meeting hers. You hum and whine shaking your head in protest.

“Better Ellie, So much better. Please dont stop.” You almost cry. Its all too much.

“Good girl.” Ellie Coos, then inserts her finger inside of you. With every centimeter entering u deeper and deeper your back arches higher and your mouth falls more open. When shes fully in you, she begins thrusting her long digit in and out curving the tip of her finger prodding where it feels the best.

“Shit your tight.” Ellie spits.

You become limp at her actions and your hands grip her auburn hair tight. You cant help but moan loudly at her actions. The feeling of her inside of you was heaven. Ellie couldn’t take seeing you like this, she had to give you more. So she brought her mouth down to your shaking legs and placed wet kisses on your thighs and all around your pussy until her mouth sucked where you wanted her most. You were a wreck. Exactly how she wanted you. She continued moving her longest digit in and out of you in that curling motion loving the way you clenched around her finger. When she thought you could handle it she detached her lips from your pussy and slipped in another finger.

“I need you to take this finger too baby, it’s going to feel so good okay?” Shes talking you through it like it’s your first time. Obviously you have touched yourself before. Sex wasn’t foreign to you, just rare. But something about this moment made it feel like you were discovering the act all over again, with Ellie as your guide.

This full sensation brought you back to a sitting up position so you could make eye contact as she exited and entered you over and over. It was a filthy sight. Her hair was completely stuck to her head and her mouth formed and ‘o’ shape. Ellies string of curses and moans were borderline pornographic.

“Yeah Hmm? Shit listen to how well your- fuck-fucking taking my fingers in baby.”

She was turned on just by the sight of her effect on you. Ellie was getting off on it. The sounds coming from your cunt drove her mad. She wouldn’t let up, she moved back down to taste you again. You began to move your hips chasing that same need you saw from the girl below you. You could feel the fuse about to blow inside of you as you humped Ellies fingers and face.

“Els Im gonna-“ your voice had reached an impossibly high pitch.

“Please please come for me baby let me taste you.”

Remembering how good the cool air made you feel earlier, she pushed you closer to the edge of the bed until you were almost hanging off. Your body was so close to the fan you could feel the fast blowing air everywhere now. On your nipples, stomach, and even through the hair on top of your pussy. You focus on the feeling of the cool from the fan for a moment to long that u see water. You saw the beloved stream you swam in just today. Your own heaven. You see Ellie. You had reached your climax and you didn’t even know it until you were coming all over Ellies hands and face.

“Shit-Ellie!” The speed of her fingers had doubled. You saw flashes of the creek and you swimming in it. Ellie had made you come so hard you were seeing things.

“Mmhmm baby you’re doing so good. So pretty like this.” She kept you like this until the pitch in your voice had become so high it was silent. Until you were a writhing panting mess chanting Ellies name over and over. Only when your hands loosened their tight grip on her hair did she slow the movement of her fingers inside of you.

Ellie helped you ride your high for a moment before retracting her fingers from you and kissing your swollen cunt one more time.

“You taste amazing.”

She smoothes her hands over your body making you shiver under her touch. She couldn’t help but stare at your fucked out state.

“You are so beautiful.”

You don’t even have words to respond to her compliments. Your sex drunk more than ever and completely non verbal. Instead u hum in acceptance. Which she laughs at.

After moments of admiring you she grabs her discarded boxers and begins to clean you up with them, too lazy to move up from the bed. This was fine to you because while u were nonverbal, you also couldn’t move.

The fan was still on full blast and Ellie craved to share the cool air with you. You had gone completely limp. Exhausted from Ellie having her way with you. So Ellie laid next you and pulled your body against hers. Skin to skin contact making you hum. Your face had gone to that perfect place in her neck. You took in her smell before she turned her head to look at you. Her eyes were lidded and sleepy, but also in awe of your state and her affect on you. She smirked slightly and placed a slow breathy kiss on your lips. When you broke apart your eyes were too heavy to open them again for the night. Ellie took one last look at you before sleep over came her.

“Thank youu, fan.” She whispered before pulling you closer and falling into deep sleep.

Thank god for fans. Thank god for the creek. Thank god for Ellie. (and her fingers) You thought and snuggled into her before dozing off completely.

Maybe this summer won’t be too unbearable.

🌿

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