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#ghost x reader series
elizabethwritesmen · 3 months
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The Devil Wears Lace
chapter 1 : July 2, 2022
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pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader
summary: you obviously weren’t expecting someone to kidnap you after your shift at the bar that night. even moreso, you weren’t expecting them to want to kill you. but the thing you weren’t expecting the most was the masked man who saved you.
warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, kidnapping, violence, talk of unaliving the reader, dark themes throughout this whole series, leg injury, talk of being tied up and drugged, i think that’s everything but let me know if i missed something!
a/n: this chapter is basically the prologue, so it’s super short but gives necessary background info (:
series masterlist
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July 2, 2022
I don’t remember much. In fact, I don’t remember anything clearly after being taken.
What had happened was, I was walking to my car after my shift at the bar ended. I happened to be parked on the side, in the alley. There, three men were waiting for me. Waiting to take me.
I put up a fight, really and truly, I did. I think I even gave them a run for their money considering they were all quite large compared to me. I punched, and scratched, and bit what I could. But they overpowered me, and one of them hit me on the head with something. Who knows what? Doesn’t matter.
Since then, I’d been fading in and out of consciousness. The first time was on the ride there. I’d been shoved in the back of a van with several boxes, wedged in between them like some kind of cargo. The driver hit a turn way too sharp and slung one of them onto its side, the contents emptying onto me. One of the things in there was a small safe with sharp edges. It slammed into my ankle, breaking the skin and cutting deep. I instantly woke up, screaming, red hot pain searing through my entire leg, and they pulled over somewhere. One of them crawled into the back with me, and I tried to resist him but I was tied up with my arms behind my back. I even kicked at him, but there was only so much I could do with one good foot.
“Shut the fuck up!” he growled, taking a syringe out of his pocket and forcefully twisting me so he could shove it into my arm.
The next time, I was in a warehouse. Everything was dark and blurry, shapes fading together. I felt… wrong. Woozy, like I’d been drinking. Then I momentarily remembered the syringe and realized that thought wasn’t too far off. There was probably something in my system to keep me docile. That only lasted for a second before I was out again. Then again I just barely faded into a conversation two men I’d not yet seen were having in front of me.
“We’ve got to wait until the 4th or it won’t work,” one raised his voice at the other, tensions high.
“I say we kill the bitch now. She’ll be worth just as much dead as she will be alive.”
“You don’t know that!”
Everything went black again. I couldn’t even manage to panic about the fact that I was probably going to die. What day did I get snatched? I thought it was the 30th of June. How long had I been there?
I don’t remember waking up again at all, until a loud sound rocked the building. My eyes cracked open, vision still shaky, to see men rushing in. A fight ensued between them and my many captors. I watched as intently as I could manage as they took each one of them down, police arresting them all.
A man rushed my way. I couldn’t see him clearly until he was right in front of me, tall and large and… masked.
Strange.
I tried to scoot away from him, scared he was going to hurt me in my drugged up state, and he spoke softly as not to frighten me further.
“It’s okay, I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” I stayed wary, eyes focusing in on him. I had to focus in on him. If I didn’t, he just looked like a blob. “They’ve got you fucked up good,” he commented, then asked, “Will you let me cut off these ropes?”
I nodded and he leaned down, slicing through the binds on my ankles, careful of the wound that was looking worse for wear from being ignored. “Can you stand?” He asked, and when I didn’t respond, he tutted. “Let’s try.” He picked me up from under my arms, placing me on my feet.
Fuck if that wasn’t the worst pain I’d ever felt. I cried out as pressure was placed, falling into him in the least graceful way possible. His arms secured themselves around me, placing me gently back on the ground.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to stand,” he hummed, kneeling behind me to cut the ropes off of my hands. I relaxed my entire body, relieved to have mobility back. “Put this on,” he commanded, slipping his jacket off and handing it to me. I furrowed my brows, looking down to see my clothes were in tatters, ripped to shreds just about. The low cut T shirt with my work’s logo on it was completely open and the matching skirt was half off. My bra and panties were on full display, light hitting the lace perfectly. I gasped, grabbing the warm fabric from him and trying to put it on. I was too weak, though, so he had to do it for me. He zipped it up, and once he was satisfied with my modesty, he hauled me into his arms, carrying me out of the building. I started to slip out of consciousness again, my mind still foggy from whatever was in my veins. The last thing I remembered seeing was him, walking away.
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ave661 · 1 month
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lethalchiralium · 5 months
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Simon sleeps best when your head is on his heart, knowing his heartbeat lulls you to sleep most nights. Your arm on his chest, the other tucked underneath your side and your leg thrown across his hip - no matter how bony you say it is. “You have no cushion there, Si,” you always say, “You need to eat more. They don’t feed you enough when you’re working anyway.”
His head is either back on his pillow, eyes staring at the ceiling or he’s looking at you. Baby monitor on his side of the bed, wanting you to take more rest. I’ll be awake anyway, he says. Damned sleep schedule, he says. He’s asleep ten minutes after you are.
He sleeps second best when his head is settled on your stomach. Hands cradling your lower back, eyes drooping as the TV hums from across the room. Your fingers in his hair, your body wash lingers on your skin. He rubs his cheek a bit on your stomach, just to make you smell like him.
He sleeps the third best with the dog pile - Mellie on his chest when you finally allow her to sleep in the bed, Winnie tucked into his side in a ball, and your head on his shoulder and hand gently settled on his belly button - near Mellie’s socked feet.
He doesn’t sleep much when he’s far from home, far from the woolen blankets, loud laughs and soft cries. He can’t rest when you aren’t beside him, holding him through the nightmares and the dreams that make him cry silent tears. He doesn’t sleep well without knowing his home is safe, that his girls are asleep soundly - whether they’re in his bed or their own, all three of his Riley girls are safe and sound.
That’s all he’ll ever care about.
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Roommate!Simon who loves to listen to you talk and likes talking to you but wishes you would stop talking just for a little bit so he can kiss you
He just got back from deployment. You’re both laying in bed catching up, having talked to each other for hours now, and he’s yet to kiss you.
He wants to so badly. He wants to feel your lips against his, to hold you and feel your weight in his arms before he falls asleep because he desperately needs to show you how much he missed you.
But he can’t bring himself to interrupt you. Not when you’ve got that twinkle in your eyes, not when you’re so happy he’s home.
Every time he thinks you’re done, he leans in to go for it but then you start talking again.
He’s tried staring at your lips, he’s tried practically getting up in your face to hint at it, putting his hand on your hip to pull you closer but you’re obvious to it.
You’re just so happy he’s home safe.
“Love.” He somehow manages to get the courage to interrupt you but you’re not mad. “I want to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me?” You gave him a confused look.
Usually he doesn’t ask, he just pulls you in for a kiss and you happily accept it.
Simon scoffs but finally, finally pulls you into him and kisses you deeply. He heaves a sigh of relief, pouring every ounce of love he has inside him at that moment into the kiss as he practically smushes you against his chest.
when you break apart you’re both breathless and he caresses your cheek gently.
“Didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Your eyes widened and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You hadn’t realized you had talked so much since he got home.
“Sorry.” You gave him a sheepish smile but he shook his head.
“Don’t be.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Keep going.”
For the first time two weeks, Simon fell asleep to your voice.
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bunnyreaper · 7 months
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kinktober 8 - breeding
simon riley x reader
(18+/mdni, breeding kink ofc hehe, just a little thing today <3)
for a man that doesn't want kids, simon riley sure has a breeding kink. simon swears on his life he doesn't want kids. not now, maybe not ever, a stance you've never had a major issue with. but considering his firm line in the sand, he always tries to knock you up anyway.
the first time you fucked had been a whirlwind of post mission adrenaline and raging lust, and you hadn't even stopped to consider the consequences--neither had simon. he was pushing in his girthy cock and fucking you deep before you could even think to ask for a condom, and he fucked you so good you didn't stop to care when his cock kissed your cervix and painted your insides.
after that, he didn't even bother offering to wear a condom, after the contraception and disease talk. why lose out on cumming inside? he just had to stuff you full.
sometimes he'd fuck you until you're a babbling mess, cumming hard and deep inside and then continuing to fuck his cum back in you, not letting a single drop escape. on one lucky occasion, he even came again, cock covered in his own essence as he filled you to the brim with his sticky cum.
his desires had escaped him mid session once, lost in your silky depths as he started to babble about how he needed to breed tha' pretty lil cunt and how he wasn't letting you go until he made you leak him down your fuckin' thighs.
and then it became an obsession, despite the low risk and the lack of desire, he seemed almost determined to fuck a baby into you--like he was testing your birth control, filling you up whenever he could. keeping track of your cycle so he could remind you, balls deep in mating press and eyes glued to yours, that it was your most fertile part of your cycle and that your body was just begging for his cum.
sometimes he'd even lose it just a little, chastising you for anything anything that might affect your fertility, anything that could ruin your chances of bearing his child. for a man that doesn't want kids, simon riley took breeding you very seriously.
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nitewingbabi · 8 months
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↳ call me anytime             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】warnings ⇢ sexting, swearing, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading, breeding-kink, rawr, overstimulation, mentions of somnophilia, pervert ghostface, voyeur, stalking, the usual dirty stuff ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock second part  ▻ a pretty mouth  tag @drpreminjer a/n; wrote this while listening to call me - blondie, and it just made the whole thing a lot hotter. if this gets 500 notes then I’ll put out a part four 
“This is going to be fun.” He was hungry for you, his jeans were off within seconds of seeing your pussy sprawled out for him. You turned your head in hopes to see him but from your angle it was hard. 
“I’m going to fuck up this pussy, you’re gonna be dripping with my cum when I’m finished with you.” You could only moan as you felt his hot tip brush against your slit, running along the thin crack and ever so slowly pressing into your folds just slightly. 
The tease was enough to drive you into psychosis, but you were pretty sure you were already there. At least now you could tick ‘fuck a serial killer’ off your bucket list. 
After dragging the head of his cock along your folds did he finally push in, the first inch painful as it surpassed your hole with a ‘pop’. After that he pushed himself further in til the base of his cock was against your thighs and ass. His thrusts were harsh but slow, teasing yet fulfilling. His own moans began to mix with yours as he started to speed up his pace. 
The sounds of pleasure and skin slapping echoed off your walls, and if you weren’t already turned on the smack delivered to your left cheek made you weak. It took you by surprise but it made you melt at the rush it gave you. 
“Such a slut, you’ve been dying to be fucked like this haven’t you? Been waiting for me to fill up your hole? Make you into a dirty whore. Feels good being fucked by a real man? A real killer.” You could barely get a word out as his thrusts became more violent and he was slamming against your cervix, ripping screams from your throat of pain and pleasure. He stopped his movements for a moment, flipping you over and pushing your legs against your chest. 
He slipped your shirt up, your tits falling out and bouncing as he thrusted back in and out. You didn’t take your eyes off him, looking over his body to see he had a button up shirt underneath his cloak and his pale toned abs were peeking through. His cock drilling in and out of you was a sight you thought you’d never get to see. 
His leather gloved fingers toyed with your perked nipples, twisting oh so painfully that it pulled a yelp from your lips. You loved it and hated it at the same time, wanted more and wanted him to slow down. 
“Such a dirty princess.” He muttered, almost going crazy with his thrusting as he could tell you were reaching your high. Your eyes watered at the immense sensation that passed through you, body shaking and clutching onto his arms as he continued to pound in and out. Your thrashing for him to stop was frustrating and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them down by your sides and pushing even harder. 
“P-p-please! I can’t—“ you tried to get out but your body felt like it was going into overdrive and spasming from the overstimulation. 
“You can princess. You will.” He laughed at your tears, throwing his head back as he began chasing his own orgasm. His moans got louder and you could feel yourself clenching as another orgasm would be ripped from you. 
“Fucking cum on my cock princess. Cum on your master’s cock. Do it for me.” You had only just realised that he was not using protection and you didn’t have any form of birth control. 
“W-wait, I’m not—“ you tried to speak but he cut you off. 
“Oh I know, I’m going to fill you up with me. Does that scare you? Carrying my baby? Carrying a murder’s baby? I thought you liked it like this princess? Hmm? Don’t back out now, I’m s-so fucking close—fuck!” His high came quicker than he wanted, clashing with your own high and both your juices flooding each other. Your orgasm clouded your mind and his cum warmed your walls. 
His hips had clashed against yours a few short times before he stopped riding out his high. Looking down and seeing you so full of his cum it was pouring out of you. He pulled his cock out, both your juices coating the member. 
You weren’t sure what to say but you wanted to say something. Anything. But what do you say to ghostface after he fucked you and came inside your pussy? You sat up, feeling slightly icky at the feeling of cum all over your thighs and comforter. 
He was making quick work of his pants and cloak, grabbing your chin to stop you from saying anything. 
“Until next time princess.” He placed his glove over your eyes and removed just the bottom of his mask to shove his tongue in your mouth and leave you with a taste of alcohol and what you guessed was marijuana as well. It made your heart race and you didn’t open your eyes until after he had left, looking over the damage that he had done. 
You knew you’d be at the pharmacy as soon as it opened the next morning. There was no way you were getting pregnant by a killer. 
-
It had been two weeks, and three murders since you had last had any contact with ghostface. Which was also when he fucked you raw and came inside you in your bedroom. 
You felt stupid for even thinking it, but you thought that he’d at least try and stick around or visit you. You weren’t after a relationship, but you were getting tired of the shower head and you were too embarrassed to keep a vibrator in your room. You walked down the hallway, carrying your books from class to class. You felt like you had been on autopilot for days, waiting around for something to happen. 
You felt bad for the families that had lost their members of family to him. And the police had still come up with nothing. You even began to think about who ghostface could possibly be? His body didn’t match a lot of the guys at your school. But then again some of the guys didn’t wear the most framing clothes either. You knew he was pale, and toned. Definitely taller than you. 
You began scanning the hall of your school, eyeing the guys that walked past and whether or not they fit your description. Or at least what you had seen of him. Your phone began vibrating in your hand, alerting you someone was once again messaging you. 
➤ looking for me? 
Your heart began racing, he was watching you. Your eyes left your device, looking around to see if anyone around you was paying a little too much attention. But you didn’t see anyone. The bell rung for class and you headed off to your last periods of the day. You were going to have to do some digging to find out who he was, not that you really cared who he was. But it would make contacting him a bit easier. 
Finally school being over for the day, you could collapse on your bed. Slumping down on the mattress and you felt your skirt fly up, your ass exposed to the empty room. You felt your phone vibrate again. 
➤ arch your back and spread your legs 
The message was mysterious and you had wondered how once again he was watching you. 
➤ do it. 
Without another thought you did as he said, pushing your ass to the ceiling and face into the mattress like you had been asked. Your back arching in a graceful way that it could’ve been considered art. 
➤ that’s a good girl. 
You wondered where he was, out your window? In your closet? You began to situate yourself back into a comfortable position. Eyes scanning around your room for once again, something out of the ordinary. Your eyes fell on your computer, green light appearing next to your camera and it hit you. He had been watching you that way. You moved closer the laptop, brows furrowing as you got up close to the camera. 
You knew he could see you, but could he hear you? Like he read your mind, your phone began ringing. 
Private Number 
“Hello?” You answered, hiding the slight worry in your voice as you thought of how long he must have been watching you through your camera. Not that it mattered but, he had access to it before he even started targeting you possibly. 
“Hi princess, wish you could see me. Cause I can see you.” His words were followed with a deep throating laugh, why did he have to make you so hot? 
“How are you doing that?” You asked in a harsh tone of voice, biting on your lip that he might react poorly to your aggression. 
“I can do whatever I want. You think this is the only camera I’ve been watching you through? I’ve got your house hooked. I know when you’re alone. When you’re awake. When you’re asleep. Although, while you’re sleeping it’s much better climbing through your window and fucking my fist to the sight of your cute pyjamas right in front of you. You don’t even stir, tits all perky for me, legs spread and ready to take me in. Maybe one night I ought to just fuck you then, wake you up nice and good with my cock. Hm? Bet you’d fucking worship me and beg me to stop but you wouldn’t mean in.” 
His words were working you up and you felt bothered that it did this time. He had been in your room when you weren’t conscious, seeing you in a vulnerable state and position. It felt unfair. 
“Well what if I keep you out? I’ll lock all my doors and nail my window shut if I have too.” You spat back, hoping he would take your warning seriously. 
“Oh princess, even if you could…would you really want me too?” 
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jelliessoap · 7 months
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Idea! he team found out about Price's husband on a tv game, which they were watching out of boredom. His last name on the jersey is [lastname]-price. They think its a coincidence. But when he makes a winning shot, and the camera pans to him, he dose this specific hat thing, like pinch and smuge the rim of his hat, like when you pinch salt. They realize, its what Price dose! Coincidence I think not!
OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!!! IM !!!!!!!
hehehe some hcs under the cut thank you anon!
no warnings i can think of, m!reader, reader is a pitcher in this!
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- john would have the game on at the base, ultimately forcing the rest of the task force to watch as well
- literally put the remote in his pocket so they couldn’t change it. they just assumed he really liked the sport for some reason and watched it as well.
- soap was and gaz ended up being the only ones truly paying attention, ghost would give the screen a glance every now and then, mostly just listening to the announcers voice as background noise.
- price only paid attention when you were on the field as per usual, sat next to gaz puffing away at his cigar, soap sat on the floor ( swears its more comfy ), with ghost at the opposite end of the couch
- it was bottom of the 9th and the opposing team’s bases were loaded, 3 balls 2 strikes and 2 outs. your team was up by two points but if they managed to hit a run or walk there was a good chance they could catch up. you needed to strike him out.
- price was stressed. his body tense as he leaned forward eyes fixed on the screen.
- gaz is looking at him like ‘???’ because price never mentioned being a baseball fan.
- it wasn’t that he kept you or your career a secret, it was well known he was married. he was just never questioned about it by the boys and the topic never got brought up
- he also figured it might be safer for both of you seeing you were such a public figure and he had plenty of threats with his job, it wasn’t exactly something he bragged about at work. should your identity fall into the wrong hands he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you
- ghost ever the observer couldn’t help but notice the way price paid extra attention to the player with, [last name]-price on the back of their jersey. though he figured it was just coincidence
- soap was just excited to be watching a sport tbh, thought it was boring but started to understand as the game went on. now that things were tense he was at the edge of his seat.
- “c’mon luv…” price would mutter under his breath barely audible as you prepared for the pitch that could make or break the game
- you threw a strike with precision, striking their batter out and earning your team the win for the night
- you had your signal to price, it’d become a bit of a signature move for you. as your teammates joined you on the field, cheering and celebrating everyone pumped full of adrenaline you smiled brightly eyes searching for the camera
- as soon as you found it you pulled your signature move, pinching the bill of your baseball cap and smudging your fingers along it while shooting a small wink to the camera. every one of your movement a direct communication to price. that you’d played for him, you won for him, that you were still thinking of him
- gaz noticed your gesture and looked to price in slight confusion. he’s seen price make that exact gesture with his boonie hat more times than he could count.
- ghost noticed too, also taking note of the way price’s lips twitched upward when he watched you and your team celebrate on screen. he was already sure there was something deeper to price’s interest in the game
- soap of course was the first to open his mouth
- “s’like he’s yer soulmate er somethin, captain.”
- “he is.” price would state so seriously, not a hint of joking in his tone. only fondness, even a bit of pride, his eyes never leaving the screen clinging to every bit of you he could get while so far away
- gaz’s eyes would get all wide and he’d say something like “right way to go cap.” finds the fact that price would watch a whole baseball game just for you and your on screen silent communications really romantic ( hopeless romantic gaz truthers rise up! )
- ghost pats himself on the back mentally, muttering a “knew it.”
- then there’s soap who turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “YER GAY??” which earns him a light nudge in the side from ghost’s boot and a chuckle from price
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Grocery shopping with Simon “Ghost” Riley.
My blog is predominantly 18+ minors DNI
No warnings but there are mentions of food and alcohol. 440~ Words
Simon is the king of loyalty cards.
He has a Nectar card. He religiously swipes his Tesco Club card. He has a Morrisons Fuel card for Christ’s sake.
He claims it’s because it saves money, even though he frequently grumbles that “it’s a con to make you shop there more”.
So when you’re out grocery shopping he’s always looking for good deals and will use up every point, coupon, and special offer whenever he can.
Before you he wouldn’t dare put something in the trolley if it wasn’t on offer, switching deodorant brands frequently, eating the same soup for weeks because he had to buy ten cans to get the best price.
Now, however, he has loosened his rules. Relaxed his near-obsessive frugal habits, because he wants you to have the best.
If that bottle of wine/brand of crisps/favourite ice cream you like is on offer? Well that just sweetens the deal. Literally.
You call him out on it one day when you’re in the frozen aisle, trying to decide between a branded frozen treat or Asda’s (cheaper) own brand.
“Get the more expensive one,” he coaxes you as he notices your decision paralysis as you hover in front of the glass door.
He snakes his thick, muscular arms around your middle and pulls you back against him as he places a kiss to the side of your temple. You lean back and squeeze his forearms with both hands as you look up at him.
“Don’t think it’s a waste of money?”
“Nah, besides, we earn enough to not worry about,” he pauses to peer at the prices, “A fifty pence difference.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Simon Riley?” You ask with a chuckle as he smiles against your skin, a soft hum rippling through his chest.
“Shut up and just get the ice cream,” he growls but there’s no menace in it.
You both know how much he’s changed, how much he’s grown since he met you. It warms your heart to know that you’ve impacted his life so positively.
Heavens know he’s done the same and more for you.
You finish up the shop and are getting ready to pay when the woman at the till beams at you.
“Ah the sign must have fallen off, this is actually half-price!”
She wiggles the tub of ice cream in the air and you can’t help but grin at the way Simon exhales in a silent laugh. Nostrils flaring as he tries to stifle the triumphant grin on his face.
CoD Masterlist Grocery Shopping with Gaz Grocery Shopping with Soap Grocery Shopping with Price Grocery Shopping with König
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frogchiro · 1 year
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HELLO LOVELIES!! due to popular demand I present to you this, a kinda 2 part to this baby. I wanted to thank you for the overwhelming love that little brain rot got so I'm writing something extra ^^ While this may not be a direct continuation it's set in the exact same universe and everything so you can read is as a stand alone another part of perverted nasty Ghost (and a guest!) or a continuation of other nasty shenanigans that Si would do to his little hacker girl :(
fem!reader, nsfw, nasty perv Ghost and a special guest, can be read as kinda dark? nothing hardcore it's just implied that Simon is terribly possessive bordering on obsessed and he has dark-ish tendencies so be careful!
That being said, nasty perv Ghost who's almost buzzing with barely repressed anger, almost snarling, teeth baring beneath his mask. He's standing on the sidelines of the mattress laid out on the gym floor as he watches Price go at you almost like a wild animal, grabbing and tossing you around like you're a rag doll, ultimately pinning you down to the floor with his massive body with your hand behind your back and laid out on your tummy, all tired out and panting with Price leaning down to your ear and growling something to you that made you let out a pathetic keen.
Simon didn't hear what the captain said to you but judging by your facial expression it must have been something suggestive; nasty and perverted and delivered in that deep growly rumble of Price's voice.
The blonde man knew that this whole 'compulsory hand to hand combat training' was a load of bullshit, it always was. It was organized a few times a year when the higher ups insisted and there was no way out. It was usually terribly boring, just a load of loud and sweaty men tumbling like beasts while screaming at each other and a few hot-shots who showed of like peacocks.
Except that this time there was a new addition to this mess, little old you. The new hacker of 141, the young lady who always dressed nicely, nails always manicured and smelling oh so deliciously with your perfumes. Since you're technically not a soldier Ghost thought that you'd be spared from the training but apparently he was very wrong and he hated it. He could see how flustered you were earlier, how small and soft you were in the presence of all these big hardened soldiers. He could see that you were nervous and he didn't exactly blame you therefore he decided that he would be the perfect match for you for training; it would be a win win situation!
He'd treat you as gently as he could so you wouldn't have bruises and aches from a rough treatment, and him on the other hand would have jerk off material for the next month. He could almost taste it, taste you. How he'd press you against him, how his big scarred hands would be able to run over your soft body all he wanted under the guise of training. How his big sweaty body would rub against you, his musk rubbing off on you and making you smell like him, like Ghost; a primal way of marking you. How he'd listen to all you little whines and mewls when he'd grab you too roughly and how you'd be able to feel his hard cock press against your ass as he mounted you from behind to press you into the exact position as you were now. Except it wasn't him who had you caged in his grip, it was fucking Price.
That fucker snatched you right from under his nose. Literally. Simon was just about to go up to you when suddenly Price appeared seemingly out of thin air and swooped it to basically tell you that you're gonna be his sparing partner, not even asking, he was stating a fact and since he was your captain you couldn't really say no right? :(
As John was leading you away from a growling Simon he could swear that the older man turned slightly to him and gave him a smug look that said 'better luck next time son, she's mine' and what made his teeth grit even more that he could perfectly hear these words in John's smooth growly drawl.
He's very well aware that Price has the hots for you, that dirty old pervert. He caught him looking at you more than once now, his gray blue eyes following you like a predator watching his prey, how whenever you stopped by his office to deliver some new intel or paperwork Price's voice suddenly dropped a few octaves into a deep, hot and enticing drawl that made you stutter and goosebumps appear on your skin. Also Simon heard Price going at it in his office, jerking off or doing god knows what and growling your name, or the occasional pair of your (stolen) panties peeking out from a drawer, the delicate pink material stained white with John's seed. His naturally possessive character getting amped up whenever you're with them on a mission or even in the same vicinity, any soldier who has the balls to talk or even flirt with you getting swiftly removed and ordered to run 30 laps around training grounds.
And now Ghost lost to that old perverted fuck and he will have to endure his smug commentary about how nice your soft body felt under him, how your delicious ass pressed against his cock and how you whimpered in confusion as you felt your captain grind against you and growl into your ear to 'be a good girl and get a feel of your captain, feel what will be breeding you later' and you couldn't help but whine and wiggle around a bit, you were so hot and so embarrassed, pinned under your captain with all those men watching you with heavy eyes :((
You soon stopped your wiggling and just laid there under the heavy man, his panting and growls rumbling against your back as you got a bit intoxicated on his heavy musky scent, pure masculinity and dominance oozing out of him and rubbing off on you.
You started to wonder if he'd truly keep his promise up and take you with him later, lock you in his bedroom and ravish you, breed you good with his babies :(
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elizabethwritesmen · 3 months
Text
The Devil Wears Lace
chapter 7 : November 1, 2024
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pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader
summary: a year has passed since you last saw simon and your mind has run wild with possibilities. they all grind to a halt, though, when you run into soap at the grocery store.
warnings: none in this chapter
series masterlist
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November 1, 2024
Three months passed, then six, then a year. I still hadn’t seen Simon again. I tried not to fall into a depression, throwing myself into my education. I’d applied at law school after law school, but I’m embarrassed to admit I focused on those in the UK, thinking if I could manage to get there, I might find him. Maybe if I did, it would just be fate.
Shockingly, I made it into Cambridge with scholarships. I���d done well in undergrad, but I didn’t think I did THAT well. It was a blessing, though. I spent the year leading up to my first semester saving then got my things together and moved into a little rental house not far from campus.
I’d made it through a couple weeks of classes, and had even managed to make a couple friends. I called Sabrina a lot, though, just to catch up. It was hard adjusting to being without her, but we promised to visit each other when we could.
I was at the grocery store, stocking up on what I could afford. I was waitressing, but still struggling to make ends meet with rent and school costs. I was thankful I’d been saving money for so long and that I got grants and scholarships.
I had a basket full of stuff and was looking for a couple more things to add when I heard someone call my name. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking up to see Soap standing on the other end of the aisle.
My heart skipped a beat, and I moved toward him involuntarily.
“Soap,” I gasped, smile breaking out over my face.
“What’re you doing here, darlin’?” he asked me.
“Oh, I got accepted into the law school at Cambridge, and it was my best option so.. here I am.” I shrugged at the end, like it was obvious or something, and he gave the biggest smile I’d ever seen.
“Hey, can you look up an address for me?” he asked, and I nodded, grabbing my phone and opening Google. He ratted off some numbers and a street name and when I searched, it was a bar not far from the market we were at.
“Here you go,” I showed him and he nodded, grin widening.
“Can you do one more thing for me?” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “Be at that bar tomorrow night around 10.”
I was taken aback by his request, and I stuttered, “U-uh, I guess I could but, I mean, do you think I should?”
“Of course you should.”
“Will he be there?”
“Yeah, I believe he will,” that smile was still plastered on his face but mine fell.
“I don’t know if he wants to see me, I mean, it’s been over a year. He’s probably forgotten all about me.”
“He hasn’t forgotten about you,” he shook his head as he assured me, but my skepticism still showed on my face, “We just got back from a deployment. It was long. He didn’t want to leave you hanging, he just didn’t have a choice. Trust me, he hasn’t forgotten about you and he wants to see you.”
I felt a paradigm shift and all the times If worried and stressed over him vanished. Of course he’d been deployed. I’d been freaking out for no reason for a year.
“I’ll be there,” I grinned, and he nodded victoriously, going to pay for his groceries and leaving.
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marcsburnerphone · 2 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: oral smut, sexual comments, awko moments, kissing?
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9!!
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It was the best night of sleep John price has ever had in his life. He wishes deeply his early bird tendencies hadn’t woken him from it. You lay facing opposite of him with his chest pressed snuggly up against your back spooning you. He thought he was dreaming at first, or maybe he died and went to heaven, but your steady breathing and warm skin was much too authentic for that. 
He gently brushes the hair from your neck to kiss at the smooth skin, not in means to wake you, simply cause he just can’t help himself. 
“Goodmorning.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He says while peppering kisses up to your jaw.
“Are you sure?” 
“Not anymore.” You turn over in your spot to face him, he’s a big man, a wall, even as he lays down. He peers down at you as you place a hand on his cheek. 
to your misfortune he’s borderline obsessed. 
“Shower with me?” He asks.
“Sure.” He pulls you with him as he rolls to get off the bed. He’s about to walk into his bathroom to get it started when he realizes you're about to walk out of his room.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my shampoo and conditioner.” 
“I have shampoo and conditioner.” You laugh, confusing him.
“John, I'm a hairstylist, I wouldn’t be caught dead using head and shoulders. I’ll be back.” He watches you leave, still not completely sure what you mean by that.
When you return steam has already filled the roof of the bathroom. You carry your toiletries in both your arms trying not to let anything drop. 
When John takes notice he goes to help you, except you’re not focused on the help he’s offering, you're focused on his bare chest, strong arms and slightly soft belly.
“There will be time for staring doll just not right now.” He says plucking your stuff from your hands. You roll your eyes at him trying to suppress the blush climbing up your neck. 
He undresses fully and steps inside waiting for you to do the same. Suddenly you feel awfully nervous while lifting your shirt. You pause when it gets to your rib cage suddenly feeling self conscious.
“You okay?” He notices your absence and peeks out of the glass door.
“Uh yeah.” You say, willing yourself to pull it over your head. Your pants come off next and you pray soap gets into his eyes so he doesn’t really look at you. 
You step in trying to keep your eyes on his out of politeness even though it feels like your eyes are magnets and the other magnet is in his southern region. He turns the two of you so you're the one mostly under the shower stream. His lustful gaze can’t help but look at the way the water runs down your shoulders and over your breasts.
“You’re shameless.” You say to him with a smile, you couldn’t feel self conscious under a gaze like that.
“Very.” He replies while leaning in for a kiss. He’s awfully warm, the shower at a temperature you like and one he’s not used to, but he couldn’t care less as long as he gets to have you like this. 
“Can I wash your hair?” You ask.
“If you let me wash yours.” You hum in agreement, grabbing your overly expensive bottle of shampoo and pouring some into his hands. You tell him to lather it in his hands before he puts it in your hair and he entertains it even though he bets it does nothing. Lacing his fingers through your hair he watches the way your shoulders relax and your mouth slightly parts. He tries to stop it, really he does, but he can’t help the way his cock begins to harden. He prays you don’t notice, not because he’s insecure, it’s a totally normal human reaction, but because he doesn’t want you to think he can’t enjoy a wholesome moment without getting turned on. 
“Feels good.” You sigh out as he begins to rinse it out. A groan is threatening to spill out and with all his might he is fighting it. 
When you open your eyes you notice the stone cold expression on his face. The way it looks like his eye slightly twitches for a second. And just like his human tendencies have troubled him yours too make you look down to see what may be the biggest dick in your life resting against his lower stomach. 
You look back up quicker than you looked down and it seems he hadn’t noticed. 
“Your turn.” You say scooting closely by each other so now he stands under the water. 
“I’m going to use my shampoo so you can see the difference.” You say as you pour some in your hands. It’s a bit of a reach to get all of his head so he slightly lowers it for you. You run your slightly long fingernails on his head scratching soothingly. He groans at the immensely good and foreign feeling as you make sure to not miss any hair. 
When you’re done he begins to rinse and this is the chance you take to really look at him from head to toe. Do you feel a little perverted, yeah you do.
“Look who has the staring problem now.” If John’s going to do anything he’s going to own it. 
“Who?” You say as you stand on your tip toes for a kiss. He gladly obliges, holding your head at an easier angle for him. You place a hand on his chest, which is normal, nothing that’d raise suspicion. Until it starts slowly dragging down his body. 
He's pulled apart from your swollen lips carefully watching your fingers continue to trail down. When they reach his happy trail you hesitate.
“Go on.” He says softly.
Your fingers softly brush against the soft velvety skin of his awfully gorgeous cock. Your mouth instinctively watering at the sight, and his falling open at the tease.
You grip him in a mostly closed fist giving a gentle squeeze. His hips jolt slightly forward as a pearl of precum appears at the tip. Impatiently you swipe the pad of your thumb over it bringing it to your lips. You sigh softly at the salty taste, spitting into your palm you bring your hand back down to his cock. You give him a firm stroke as your hand slightly shakes. His groans and shut eyes encourage you to continue. You find a steady pace as your hand dedicates itself to providing him pleasure. He tries to control his breathing but it loses its pattern when you quietly moan at the way it twitches in your grip. 
“You're so pretty.” You say quietly.
“Me or my cock?” He sighs out breathlessly 
“Both.” 
“Can I try my mouth?” You ask kindly he chuckles not humorously simply cause he can’t believe this is real life.
“I mean I don’t have too.” You say suddenly which he objects too.
“No, please.” He says watching the way your eyes light up. You waste no time lowering your knees onto the tile floor not caring about how they might hurt later on. 
You grab him eagerly, in your lustful subconscious nature you paint your lips with the tip. He squeezes his eyes closed to try and calm himself down but you’re doing nothing to help his case. 
“I’m losing it up here doll.” He says while leaning a hand against the wall for support. You begin to lick and suckle just to get comfortable, planning a course of action in your head.
Then you take him fully into your mouth bit by bit. His girth causes the dry corners of your mouth to slightly crack. Your eyes close as you try to focus. The sounds of slurping as you try to take him fully is sinful. He watches drool run down your chin and water droplets fall down your whole body almost cinematically. 
“You’re a sight.” He groans out when you pull him from your mouth to simply kiss from base to tip. It’s never been done to him and he would’ve never thought of it, but after that he’s not sure anything else can occupy his mind.
You suck him back in, determined to make him come. You might just want it as much as him. You're putting in your best work, ignoring the ache in your jaw. He has a hand on your cheek stroking the tears that fall from your eyes away. He tries to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth as your hand on his thigh flexes subconsciously. 
He’s so close but is greedily holding it in to keep his cock in your mouth for a bit longer. Your eye lashes bat up at him to watch his slackened features grunt and moan your name. With lidded eyes he watches the hand that once rested on your thigh slide down in between your legs, as you moan into him when he sees the way you slightly part them to give yourself an easier access.
“Mmmf fuck.” You hadn’t expected it quite yet, lost in your pleasure and his. 
He pulls from your mouth as his cum splashes onto your lips, cheek and for his personal pleasure your breasts. When he’s done he pulls you from the floor, sucking your slick fingers into his mouth with a satisfied groan before kissing you long and hard. It’s a mix of you and him as he pulls your tongue into his mouth. His thumbs rub his spend into your cheek like it’s a facial cream as he looks in your big eyes. 
“Shall we finish this elsewhere?” He says with a hand resting on the curve in your waist.
“As much as I’d love to, we can’t, I have to go grocery shopping and have to buy and restock some things at work.” You say with a small smile.
“But you haven’t gotten to finish?” He says with a little discontent.
“I don't need to.” You say giving him another quick kiss.
“That’s crazy.” 
“Make it up to me another time?” 
“Oh, yes” he couldn’t have been quicker with his answer.
“Very well then.” You laugh, grabbing your loofah which he plucks from your hands to pour soap on. He washes you tenderly, kissing every spot of your skin he swipes the sudsy soap over. He can’t help the way his eyes threaten to water at how ethereal you are to him. Call it the post clarity or whatever you want but he wants to put you in his pocket and take you everywhere. 
He doesn’t let you reciprocate the favor but does let you wash his back when the time comes. He leaves the water on for you as he steps out to grab his towel. When he returns with yours you turn it off and wrap yourself in it. 
You dress right then and there in the clothes you brought to his bathroom so you don’t have to suffer the cold. Grabbing your hair dryer to plug it in telling John to watch out for the noise. He dresses quickly and goes to the bathroom standing beside you at the his and hers sink. 
He puts on his beard oil keeping in mind that it’ll need a trim sometime this week. After that he just stands there and watches you do your thing. Admires the fact it’s being done in his bathroom. 
“May I join you?” He says amongst the noise. You click off the hair dryer after asking him “huh” for the second time so he repeats himself a third. 
“Of course.” You smile feeling a little giddy at the fact you’ll have his company. John’s not a man who seems to like to go out much nonetheless shopping. 
“Be ready in twenty?” He asks. 
“Yeah I’m just going to finish drying my hair and put on some makeup.” He nods, walking up to you to kiss your cheek before heading outside for a quick smoke.  
When you’re done he’s sitting on the couch watching whatever is on the news. You call for him from the front door and hear the silence from him clicking off the tv and his footsteps begin to approach you.
“Can I drive?” You ask hopefully.
“No.” 
The weather is beginning to become more livable and sunny. You settle into the seat as he shuts the door and gets in himself. Your hand rests above his on your thigh as the radio hums music. There is something so dreamlike about the feeling he has around you. Like the air is smoother and easier to breathe. 
“Where are we stopping first?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence.
“My work so I can see what I need, beauty store, then groceries.” 
“Okay just let me know where to go once we get near.” He says giving your leg a gentle squeeze. You nod to him as his focus returns back to the road.
He gets out with you at your job, walks you inside passing up all the private booths of other hairstylists as you lead him into yours. He sits patiently on the chair a client would usually occupy and watches you take product out, put it back and write some stuff down. 
“Okay you ready.”
“Only if you are.” He says as you grab his hand and your purse to walk back out. That’s before you’re stopped by one of your coworkers who’s just walked out of her booth. 
“Hey, who’s this?” She asks, giving you a hug and nodding to John. 
“This is John, my roommate.” You reply softly as his hand on your waist tightens.
“Nice to meet you.” He says kindly.
“Yeah you too, so just roommates then?” You wish you could rewind time and keep her stuck in that room a little longer. Cause truthfully you and John technically still were just roommates.
“Um yeah.” You say trying to end this conversation. She glances down to his hand on your waist and then slowly back up you.
“Okay then, have a good day.” She says walking past the both of you. 
John hadn’t realized till this very moment that he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend or anything official. It’s actually kind of a sickening thought to him that you're not really his. I mean in a perfect world you’d walk around with his name above your head in neon lighting. So he conspires, he’ll drop you off at your little beauty store, leave quickly, buy flowers and cute things, hide them in his car, pick you up and go grocery shopping and cook dinner with you and ask you to officially be his. 
“John you okay?” You laugh as you wait for him to unlock the car. 
“Yeah doll sorry.” He says snapping out of it.
———
You're genuinely a little confused when he tells you he’s got some business to take care of real quick and drives away after you’ve made it inside. Not that you mind, you’ve shopped alone for forever now and it’s kinda therapeutic but it’s unusual. No more than twenty minutes pass by as you continue looking at all the new products from beloved brands that the doorbell jingles as someone walks inside. You don’t look up nor really pay it any mind till strong arms encompass you.
“Where’d you go?” You say looking up at him and the foolish smile on his face.
“Just handling some business.”
“Okay, I’m trying to decide between this conditioner or this one. I love the scent of this one but love the lather on this one.” You say holding up to large bottles showcasing them. 
“Buy both and mix em’.” He says grabbing them from you as he also takes the slightly heavy basket from your hands.
“Yeah right that’s way too self indulgent.” You say while trying to make up your mind. 
“Can I just buy them for you?” You look up at him in disbelief.
“Absolutely not.” You quickly decline his very generous offer.
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m a big girl who has money and should be able to pick a product.”
“I never said you weren’t a big girl with money, I just don’t see the need for you to choose when you can have both.” He retorts back. 
“No I’ll just get this one, fan favorite.” You say hesitantly putting it back and putting one in the basket then looking at your list to see what’s next. He lets you disappear into another aisle before grabbing it back off the shelf and hiding it under the other stuff in your cart. 
You shop for a while longer before heading to the cashier as the lady rings up your items. She makes small talk with you about your day and what not. As she nears the last items John asks you to run to the back of the store for that beard stuff he uses and you quickly do. She finishes up before you make it back and he happily takes his card out and pays for your stuff. 
“I don’t know which one because they all look the same.” you say handing him three different types of the same brand.
“It’s this one.” He says giving it to the cashier along with the extra two. 
“Wait John, where's my stuff?” You ask a little confused.
“In those bags.” He says nonchalantly as he pays for his one item telling the lady to have a good day. 
“I’ll pay you back.” You say as he grabs the bags, heading to the door and pushing it open with his back. 
“Don’t worry about it.” He says ignoring your persistence. 
“I am worried about it.” The bill on your restocks is always over six hundred dollars and you cringe at the idea of him spending that on you. 
“Well don’t.” He shrugs as he hands them to you once you're sat too put in the backseat. There’s no room for disapproval as he shuts your door and heads to his side. 
————-
“Have you been drinking my oat milk?” You ask him as you pass the dairy section in the grocery mart. 
“Oat milk?” 
“Yeah the one in the yellowish carton.” 
“I mean yeah I’ve been drinking it but I just thought it was flavored milk.” 
“No, it's non-dairy, made out of oats.” Although that slightly disgusts him he doesn’t say anything cause he’d enjoyed it up until now. 
You continue to shop around picking up things that you need and different snacks to try. You hate grocery shopping more often than you need to so now’s the time to stock up. 
“Can you grab that for me?” You say point at the top of a shelf for the detergent you use. He does with no complaints as he effortlessly plucks it off the shelf. 
You’re never out of his eyeline, he watches your every move along with everyone around the two of you. Although you don’t stray far from him it wouldn’t even be an option. He tried to trap you between him and the cart that he pushes but unfortunately you escaped quickly. 
“I pay this time, you pay the next.” He says as you load stuff up onto the belt. Although he knows you wouldn’t pay for a thing in his presence. 
“Deal.” It sounds fair to you. Once again he very happily pays and puts the grocery bags into the cart as you stand there and admire him. When you guys are done he tells you to sit inside and hands you his keys as he loads the stuff into the truck.
The drive home is mostly silent. His fingers trail shapes onto your clothed skin as you scroll on your phone looking at other people’s lives through a screen. He peeks over at you from time to time and you smile when you notice. 
When you pull into the driveway you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your purse. 
“Go on inside I can take our stuff in.” He says, not wanting you to see the stuff he has back there. 
“You know I can help, right?” 
“Yeah but you don’t need to.” He says leaning in for a kiss which you gladly entertain. His mustache scratches your upper lip slightly, it's becoming something you love.
“Ever the gentleman.” You say as he pulls away. 
“For you, always.” If you weren’t experiencing this first hand you’d be giggling and kicking your feet at the thought. 
“Okay.” You say smiling way too hard, something that’s been a recurring situation.
————-
“How do you like it cooked?” You say as you finish seasoning the steaks you guys bought at the store for tonight’s dinner. 
“Medium rare.” He replies, nearly drooling at the sight of you, hair messily put up, apron tied around your waist, as you concentrate all your attention on what’s in front of you. 
“Mkay.” You slightly sway your hips to the tune of the small radio playing music. 
“How’d you learn how to cook?” He asks.
“By spending a lot of time by myself and having a cook book obsession.” He smiles, very you esque.
“I’ll be back in a short minute.” He says as you move onto chopping potatoes. You nod in response as he walks down the hallway. 
As quietly as possible he sneaks back out to his car to grab the flowers, vase and earrings he bought you. And brings it inside walking slowly to his room. You’re too lost in thought to hear a thing. Potatoes in the pot of boiling water and steak in the pan. Your mind was occupied with one not over cooking anything and two not getting splashed by hot butter. 
“John.” You call out. You're thankful he heard you with one yell as he came down the hallway. 
“Yeah doll.” You turn to look at him and tilt your head in confusion when you see a leaf stuck to his half shirt.
“Was just going to ask for help in dumping the water.” You say ignoring it. 
“Of course.” He says walking up to you grabbing the mitts you offer him that were a bit too small for his large hands. He picks up the heavy pot with ease as he drains it. 
“Were you outside or something?” You say noticing another leaf on his pants. 
“No, why?” He asks as he sets the pot back on the burner.
“You have leaves on you.” 
“Oh not to worry, must've gotten there when I brought the groceries inside earlier.” 
After that you pay it no mind as he returns back to whatever he’s doing. You finish cooking and set the table for you two. You plate the food and call for him again. He panicked when he heard you, although he’s going to wait till after dinner. What if you say no? What if you're not ready for a relationship, let alone with him.
“John.” You yell again, he hears your footsteps coming towards him and quickly leaves his bedroom.
“Sorry, I was just picking up.” You know for a fact it wasn’t messy when you guys left. Regardless he follows you back down the hallway and into the kitchen. You two sit in your now assigned seats.
“Looks great, Thankyou doll.” He says caressing your chin affectionately.
“You're welcome.” You watch him take his first bite waiting before you take yours, gauging his reaction then getting distracted by how wide his legs spread out, so much so that they peek out from under the table. 
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to enjoy dessert first.” You look away quickly, beginning to eat your own food. The first 5 minutes is silence that’s filled with chews and clinking. 
“I think I’ll reopen bookings next month.” You say randomly as the reoccurring thought occupies your mind. You took some time off work to get some rest and have been enjoying it too much.
“That’s interesting, what for?” You laugh softly before looking up at him. 
“Because living isn’t free?” It could be for you, he thinks. 
“I could always pick up more bills.” He doesn’t want to push the topic knowing you don’t like to talk about it.
“Or I could just get back to work.” That’s your way of ending the conversation, he ends up finishing way before you do and sits back with a satisfied sigh chatting about some kind of camera he wants to put outside.
“I’m full.” You say pushing your plate away. You’re about to stand up and collect the plates before he stops you.
“Allow me.” He says grabbing them and setting them inside the sink, he washes them quickly and puts them in the drying rack before turning to do the pans you used. 
He’s deep in thought about how he’s going to ask you but  snaps out of it when he feels two arms wrap around his waist and slide under his shirt, then your head on his mid back. It’s so subtle yet so affectionate and foreign to Jonathan Price that he just wants to melt.
“You smell good.” You whisper as you stick your nose deeper into his shirt.
“Thank you?” He laughs.
“I’m sleepy.” You say as he reaches for the kitchen towel to dry his hands.
“Well before we head to bed I’ve got something for you.” Your head perks up curiously. He turns around and smiles softly at your drowsy eyes yet wide smile.
“What?” 
“Well follow me and I’ll show you.” He’s wringing his hands as you both walk toward his room.
“Okay, close your eyes.” He says and you do.
You're both in his room now, you hear him shuffling things around or something of the sort as you stand there patiently.
“Okay, open them.” Once your eyes adjust you see him standing there with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a little box. 
“Will you be my partner?” You tilt your head at the question until you realize he’s asking you to be his girlfriend.
“Your girlfriend?” 
“Doll, I'm too old for that.” 
“Yes then I’ll be your partner.” You laugh, grabbing the flowers from him. 
“Open this.” He says handing you the small box and taking the bouquet of flowers to set them down on his dresser. Nervously you flip the top open as your eyes go wide. 
“John, these are beautiful.” You say looking at the pair of small paint brushes with a diamond as the bristles.
“Pretty things for a pretty lady.” He says reaching to push a strand of hair behind your ear.
“This is too much.” You whisper truly admiring them, for a man who doesn’t believe in fate finding those in the small jeweler right next to the flower shop is the closest he’s come to it after meeting you. 
“Nothing is too much when it comes to you, doll.” You close the box, setting it down. You look at him for a couple of seconds just admiring the man that’s been nothing but a blessing to you. 
“What?” 
“Kiss me.” It’s nothing sexual, it’s purely out of affection. The way you feel light as a feather beneath his touch, as he feels real against yours. He’s so enamored in everything you, loves the way you breathe, smell, move, laugh he’s obsessed with everything. 
You feel like the heavens have sent him to you. He’s safe, warm and everything you’ve ever wanted. He cares for you truly. He holds you tenderly and gives you all the attention you crave, and you don’t even have to ask for it. 
“Can we sleep in my room tonight?” You say when he pulls away. 
“Yeah, but why?” 
“I feel like this is too boyish for me, I need to see my plants and sleep in my matching sheets with my thousands of pillows.” He laughs as you put your vase of flowers in his hands and lead him towards your room.
-----------------------------
Thankyou for reading, truly you guys are the greatest motivation to contune writing known to man - All my love
comments and reposts are deeply appreciated<3
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601 notes · View notes
lethalchiralium · 5 months
Text
“Simon.”
His teeth nipped at your neck, a little giggle escaped your lips. Hands holding his head and back as he pressed his own grip into your hip. Your smile was small, trying not to entertain him while waiting for one of the girls to wake up from their naps.
“Simon, I mean it-“
His forehead pressed against your jaw, slick with sweat as he panted, “Five minutes. Five minutes and I’ll be quiet too.” You didn’t have to look at him to know his desperate gaze, the way his bottom lip would be swollen from your teeth chewing on it a few moments earlier.
Your nails scratched his scalp, his body involuntarily shuddered. “The girls will be up any moment-“
His nose pressed against your pulse, the knee in between your legs pressed up a little bit - you gasped, gripping your husband’s head and back like your life depended on it.
“Y/N.”
“Mhm.”
“You’re not letting yourself relax again.” His forehead rose from your skin, his dark eyes met yours with a gentle gaze. “We don’t have to fuck but it’s not always about the kids. Sometimes it’s about you.”
You let a huff escape your nose, eyebrows furrowed and your eyes rolled. A smile tugged at your lips.
“Five minutes.”
He kissed your cheek. “Gotta remember you need time for yourself too.”
“And for my needy husband.”
He kissed your nose and lips, the lips he was tracing with his tongue a few minutes prior. “You can always kick me off and call it a day.”
You shook your head, your nails dug into his back. “You’re so sure they won’t wake up.”
“Door’s locked anyway.” He smirked, pressing his lips with fervor. You tilted your head upwards, deepening the kiss and feeling your husband’s hands dip underneath your waistband. He pulled away after only a second, mischievous and greedy. “Tell me to stop if you need.”
You nodded, letting your head fall back onto your pillow as your husband began to kiss down your chest, his lips parting as soon as they met your cunt.
3K notes · View notes
The Roommate Series
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
This is an (18+) story which means if you are a minor, you are not allowed to come onto my page and read this story. Smut will have a * in the link to the part
This series is complete
Synopsis: Three years ago you decided to go to college after being out of high school for so long but the only problem was that you needed a place to stay. You found an ad about someone needing a roommate for their apartment and ended up becoming roommates with a man named Simon Riley.
Now you've become best friends with Simon even when he disappears to work for months on end and shows back up randomly while never telling you what he does. As your relationship with Simon begins to change, you wonder if maybe his secrets were meant to stay hidden.
Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love
My Heart is Yours
It was Only a Kiss
The Only Exception*
I Missed You, I'm Sorry
Home is Whenever I'm With You*
Lover Boy
So This Is Love*
I Surrender Who I've Been, For Who You Are*
Summertime Sadness*
Ptolemaea
In My Time of Dying
Aren't We Just Terrified?
Bury Me in Your Kiss*
Epilogue*
The Roommate Series on AO3
Extras
Why did Ghost fall in love with you
Dream
Flowers
Future
Argument
Sick
Nightmare
Zombie/Roommate!Simon 1
Zombie/Roommate!Simon 2
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
I don’t own these characters, Call of duty, or any of the Modern Warfare titles. You do not have permission to sell this work. (2/27/2024)
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nitewingbabi · 9 months
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↳ a pretty mouth             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading,  ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock
It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too. 
He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round. 
You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.
➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop  ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy
His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy. 
Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before. 
Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well. 
When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until. 
🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap 
The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin. 
“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove. 
“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were. 
“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other. 
A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade. 
“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway. 
“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup. 
“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax. 
It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead. 
It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong? 
Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface. 
Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night. 
“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke. 
“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you. 
You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes. 
“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg. 
He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace. 
$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you. 
He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement. 
“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.
Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure. 
“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more. 
“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it. 
“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic. 
“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out. 
You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth. 
He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. 
Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you. 
“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame. 
“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high. 
“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress. 
“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more. 
“This is gonna be fun.” 
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strlingsav · 8 months
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Drive: Four
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Requested: @sarcanti 🫶🏻
For this anon too since it's pretty much the same thing!!
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Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
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Sipping intermittently from your room-temperature drink, your eyes reached Ghost's across from you. He was settled on a bar stool, watching you as you leaned against the bar, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.
Music hummed from the speakers, a loud buzz inside the bar as it began to fill. It was late- dark and cool, nearing midnight without a shortage of people filtering in.
The two of you were content in your own world, hardly paying much attention to the conversation beside you; idle chatter from Soap and Gaz and a few other men you vaguely recognized from previous deployments.
Your leave was almost over; a few more days and you'd be back to base, far away from the cycle of unfamiliar habits. You missed the routine, knowing exactly what to expect day-after-day, but a break from the organized chaos and a little bit of freedom was enjoyable.
Simon opted to stay with you- a decision you'd not expected from him, brought up after he complained of having to stay in his own 'lonely flat'.
You'd meant it as a joke, an offer thrown into the air with no strings attached. It was another step toward something more serious than you were sure he was ready for, maybe more than you were ready for.
A nonchalant 'alright' was all he'd said, before he packed his bags and drove the two of you there.
In an effort to contain the growing relationship between you, you maintained that you were spending your leave with family. Your squad-mates were entirely unaware that the two of you were sharing your apartment, and you desperately wanted to keep it that way; you stayed light on alcohol to avoid any drunken confessions.
The bar was grimy and sticky, smelling like an ash tray and spilled beer, but it was comfortable. No obligations, no expectations- only Simon's blackened eyes undressing you from across the bar.
You were flustered, reasonably so, thighs squeezing together with the imagery of his long fingers gripping your waist instead of the glass in his hands. You broke eye contact, moving your attention to Johnny who'd been chatting away the entire time before it became obvious you were fantasizing about him.
You liked to keep your personal life private, especially from coworkers, even before yourself and Simon founded your new situation, if it were to be called anything. You liked things that way, and it came with an added bonus; no one ever pried.
It made your secret affair a bit easier to keep secret. The only downfall being that with the eyes of your teammates watching every move, there was no palpable excuse as to why the stranger across the bar couldn't buy you a drink.
You could've lied, said you were married or seeing someone, but it would've created another layer of secrets you'd have to remember to keep. So, you sucked in a sharp breath, smiled politely and nodded curtly as he slid onto the seat beside you and handed you a beer.
Simon watched the entire exchange. His rationale had nearly all but gone, mostly replaced by a stinging sensation in his chest that threatened his temper. Even as your eyes met his across the table, and he could see the nervous smile on your lips, he felt nothing but betrayal.
You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. His eyes had finally left yours and were honed in on the smiling stranger leaning in close, brushing your arm with his. It made you cringe to imagine how it made him feel- Simon already had a bad temper, inexplicably enraged by the smallest things, and this man coiling himself around you was sure to make him combust.
You sneaked a glance up, your eyes meeting, offering an apologetic expression. It didn't seem to have the intended effect, as Simon stood from his seat, pushing off without a word.
"Where're you off to?" Johnny spoke up, catching Simon before he could slink away.
"Gotta piss," He muttered.
You watched his shoulders sway as he sauntered to the washrooms, an overwhelming amount of guilt settling in your gut.
You made polite conversation, but your body was stiff as a board. It was difficult to allow yourself to play into the charade of interest, especially with the man you truly cared about fuming just metres away.
Simon had reappeared, finding the man with his hand on your waist, his body caging you off from everything and everyone else. He couldn't handle it- watching the exchange made his stomach churn, his chest tighten with anger. He abruptly left his seat, lunging for the exit.
You cleared your throat, throwing back the final sip of beer before turning to the stranger with a meek smile.
"Thanks for the drink. I've got to get heading out, though," You mumbled, your attention focused on Simon.
You offered a short goodbye to Johnny and Kyle, who seemed just as perplexed by your quick escape, before sliding from your standing position. The stranger didn't have a chance to reply; you were dead-set on the exit, hurriedly walking out to escape the clutches of his unwanted advances.
You found Simon leaning against the rough brick of the building, a lit cigarette lighting up the outline of his lips.
You wanted to blurt out, 'I'm sorry', but a trickle of resentment- and pettiness- made its way to your thoughts before that- you hadn't had the conversation yet. Maybe you never would.
You knew your situation was wrong, entirely wrong, and illegal- but the part of you that hadn't yet become numb to normal interactions wondered if that was what he even wanted; if he wanted only you.
"You done with your li'l show?" He asked, nonchalant, uncaring, but it had a bite to it.
"My show?" You repeated, watching him stand to his full height as he scuffed out the cigarette.
"With that bloke," He nodded his head, gesturing to the bar. "Lettin' him buy you a drink, touch you." His tone was venomous, accusatory- and you hated it.
"What was I supposed to do?" You scoffed.
"You've got a mouth, haven't you?" He was stepping toward you.
"That's not fair," You said, tilting your head. "People were watching."
Your voice faltered as he closed in on you, your eyes meeting his and finding the glazed-over expression of pure anger in his gaze. It made you feel guilty; maybe not irrationally so, but guilty nonetheless.
You wanted to go home, wanted to forget how you made him feel, forget how guilty your conscience was even when the stipulations of your situation weren't clear.
You turned on your heel, heading toward the parking lot at a leisurely pace, hoping he'd catch on that you wanted to drop it and go home.
"You want fuckin' fair?" He called, quickly catching up to you with fewer strides, slowing as he watched you pull the door of his truck open. "I ain't the one bein' felt up right in-fuckin'-front o'you." His hand reached the side of his truck.
You exhaled sharply, before turning to face him. Your glare was suffocating, standing to your tallest height as you furrowed your brows. He had cornered you against the truck, scowling down at you, though your expression could more than contend with his.
"You haven't asked me not to fuck or see other people," You threw your hands up, continuing before he could interrupt you. "Maybe if you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
There was silence for only a few beats, before he moved even closer. You knew it wasn't entirely true- neither of you had made the effort to discuss where exactly you were headed. Your flustered judgement got the better of you.
"You been fuckin' other blokes?" He asked, suddenly stepping closer, his voice quivering ever-so slightly. It wasn't sadness in his tone, it was jealousy, anger.
You tilted your head, nearly astonished by his ability to avoid the most prevalent argument in your statement. Regardless- it wasn't entirely the lack of commitment that lead you to accepting the strangers advances, it was the presence of your squad mates. Nonetheless, you'd honed-in on his noncommittal attitude and had no patience for hypocrisy.
"You expect me to believe you haven't been sleeping with other people?" You shot back, watching his eyes dart back and forth between yours.
You held your breath, subconsciously; you knew the answer you wanted- you wanted him to tell you it was special. You were special- but your Lieutenant wasn't that kind of man.
"Yeah," He answered, deadpanned and stern. "'Cause I haven't." He leaned in even closer, nearly nose to nose as he shrunk himself down to your face. "Answer my fuckin' question."
You gave a harsh no, hidden behind gritted teeth and tight lips. He was shrouded by anger, and instead he spoke over you, pupils expanding in the darkness, redness pooling in his neck and chest.
"Got me on a fuckin' leash while you're out shaggin' other people," He spat.
"I haven't slept with anyone else," You said. "But if you don't want to be tied down, you've always been free to leave." Your hands flailed as you fought back the tears welling in your eyes.
It had been a while since you'd been close to tears; especially because of a man. The familiar sting in your eyes, the lump growing in your throat. You'd had little expectation that Simon would be much different from others before him, and a part of you hoped otherwise, but it still caught you off-guard.
He straightened his back, still caging you in behind his arm. He released a quiet breath, his shoulders dropping as he took a moment to process the conversation.
"Didn't say that," He uttered, reeking of nonchalance, and a hint of surrender.
"You did," You said. "If it's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore." Your gaze pored into his, unbreaking and persistent.
Your vision was blurrier than before, your voice threatening to waiver, crack, but your composure was held together by the pitiful hope that he'd do what you wanted- what you needed.
He retracted his hand, idling awkwardly while he searched his mind for a response. You watched his eyes dart from yours, cogs turning.
"That what you want?"
Your brows furrowed. "No."
He was quiet again- a common reoccurrence but not usually with you. He had his moments of silence, though his stone-like stance put you off. The calloused part of you had already begun to wall-off the the feelings you'd since developed for him, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes and clearing your throat.
Sudden chatter outside the bar alerted you both, remembering that inside were the coworkers you'd been trying to avoid. Simon cleared his throat, standing up straight.
"Get in," He muttered, holding the door as you slowly turned to jump into his truck.
Once settled beside you, he turned the truck over, heading for your apartment. There was more silence- hardly even the sound of breathing. He didn't look your way, or rest his hand on your thigh, and a part of you took it as a premonition for the difficult conversation to come.
You'd poured a glass of wine by the time he returned from your room- dressed in only his sweatpants, void of his mask; vulnerable. You stood at the counter's edge, taking a slow sip to avoid speaking while he stared at you.
There was only the sound of deep breaths, a stalemate while you locked eyes. Simon knew he'd crumble- you'd grown too valuable to let slip away- but not without delving into the evening's events.
You sighed as he neared, wandering almost aimlessly through your apartment. Your shoulders collapsed in defeat; growing tired of the silent war waging itself between you.
"What are we doing? Where is this going?" You sighed, catching his eyes as you looked up.
As badly as you wanted to fix the anger and frustration brewing beneath your skin, you knew it would take a lot- maybe more than he'd give. You'd known from the start he wasn't like usual men, and you didn't expect him to be, but the issue at hand was starting to snowball.
"Whad'you want? You want a ring? A kid?" He tilted his head, chest expanding as he neared the kitchen island.
You shook your head, ignoring the mockery in his tone, "I need to know you want me. Only me. Even just for now, not forever. But if not-" Your lips rubbed together. "I can't keep risking my job for something going nowhere."
"My arse has been on the line too," He reminded you, his hand finding the counter. "A lifetime's worth of hard work and shite I ain't proud of- threatened by you. I wouldn't've bothered with any of it if I didn't want you."
"That's not what I meant," You tilted your head, examining his eyes. "I appreciate the risks of our situation-"
"I don't think you do," He moved even closer. "I'm riskin' everything just by bein' here. That ain't an answer for you? Doesn't tell you how fuckin' much I want you?" His breaths were heavy once he'd finished his sentence.
You blinked- shocked by the unexpected passion coming from a man whose stoicism was unmatched by anyone you'd ever known.
He set his jaw, working up the courage to solidify what you wanted desperately to hear. It was like he was choking for air, his chest tight, deeply afraid to offer his trust and commitment, aloud, without something tangible to prove you'd reciprocate it.
His jaw clenched again, his eyes flickering between yours, deciding once and for all that he'd without-a-doubt take what you'd offer without a second thought, even if he had to lay his peace of mind on the line.
"'M with you. Only want you." He stared at you, moving closer. "Don't want anyone else havin' you, either. Call it whatever you like but I ain't been subtle about it."
His words melted away the grudge you'd been holding, finding solace in his words. You had no intention of holding on to anger, especially not as he peeled back the layers of armour protecting him from being hurt. Your lips pursed, biting your lip before meeting his eyes.
"I feel the same," You answered, nodding firmly, meeting his eyes. There was a brief pause, preparing yourself to offer your commitment. "I should've said so sooner, but I only want you, Simon." Your words softened, melting slowly into his ears before settling in his stomach with weight and warmth.
It was so genuine, so utterly vulnerable he was nearly overwhelmed. For a moment, he almost forgot how poorly it could end. It was just the two of you; two people in a normal, mundane relationship, in the dim light of your kitchen, exchanging a stare that dared to pull you into an alternate universe where you didn't have to worry.
He hummed softly- a surrender. He gently, almost begrudgingly, pulled you into him by the fabric of your shirt, a soft kiss against your lips that was like sealing a deal- an exchange of commitment.
Still a bit irritated at your lack of observation, he threatened to pull away. Before he could, you teetered on your toes, moving to drape your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You held him close, pressed against your body as you reconnected your lips.
"I'm sorry," You whispered. "I should've known better."
When he hummed in response, you kissed his lips again. He was stiff against you, though you felt him relax into your touch while you spoke in his ear.
"I'm glad you're here. Happy you're here."
His eyes searched yours for a moment, before he pulled you in by your waist, his lips engulfing yours with warmth and wetness.
You hummed softly, leaning into his touch, standing taller to press your lips against his. You exhaled softly as he slid his tongue against yours, parting your lips with force.
His warm, strong hands tugged you closer, hand moving to hold the side of your face as he guided you against his lips.
He grunted as he lifted you to his hips, large palms and fingers digging into the back of your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he began heading for your room; you kept your arms tangled in the short hair on the nape of his neck.
He sat down, your thighs landing on either side of his as you straddled his lap. You pulled your shirt over your head, breathless and rushed, before pulling him back in. His lips fit perfectly together with yours, his tongue sliding between your lips to collide with yours.
His hand clung tightly to your waist, while his other dipped beneath your waistband and panties, gently finding his way over your clit. Rough fingertips traced it softly, a jolt running up your back at the sudden pressure.
"Simon," Yoir voice was airy and desperate, your hands grabbing pulling him closer.
He grunted in response, hardly recognizing his name from your needy mouth, and instead was focused on how soft and wet you were, his warm lips making contact with your neck.
You moaned, cradling his head as he nipped and licked, biting softly at your neck, the cool air of the room bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You writhed against him, your thighs squeezing his between them, trying to stay still while his hand explored the flesh of your pussy.
Your soft moans were muffled by his neck, panting quietly into his skin as your fingers grasped at his back. Your lips made contact with his neck, sloppy and haphazard, making your way to the sharp crease of his jaw before finding his lips. He couldn't help but press into you, grind his already-hard cock against you, finding some measure of relief and pleasure.
"Doin' my fuckin' head in, you know that?" He breathed, warm breath against your neck that made you shiver.
A subtle nod between soft moans was accompanied by a meek and stubborn, "Yeah. I'm sorry."
His hand slipped from your pants, reaching for his sweats as he began to slide them down his hips.
You stood from his lap, slowly pulling your jeans down your thighs until they pooled on the floor, nudging them with your foot before dropping to your knees. You inched forward, your eyes meeting Simon's with an apologetic look- one that intrigued him as much as it turned him on.
"Go on," He nodded. "Let's see how sorry you are."
Your cheeks flushed as his hand came to your cheek, following your lead as your lips puckered around the tip of his cock. He nearly shivered- each time was like the first all over again, unable to overcome the feelings of pure lust when he watched you on your knees.
Your lips wrapping around his cock, eyes locking with his when you'd take him deeper into your throat. The feeling of your throat closing when you'd gag on his dick made him grunt quietly and subconsciously grab a fistful of your hair while he resisted the urge to fuck your throat until you couldn't breathe.
He liked watching you struggle to take it all- the desperation to please in your eyes, the shift in your hips to ease the growing discomfort of your swollen, almost sore, clit. He'd take care of it- always did, always would.
He'd close his eyes only momentarily to listen to your mouth; sloppy sounds of saliva and sucking in sharp breaths. He preferred watching, though, especially when your eyes began to water, your nose began to run, and you'd be sliding your hand up and down his cock to ease the pain in your jaw.
You met his gaze again- eyes half-shut, cheeks flushed, his hand on the back of your head as he guided your lips up and down his cock.
"That's good," He muttered, "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart."
Your heart would race when he praised you, soft murmurs of thanks that vibrated against his cock. He grinned momentarily while you tried to talk with a mouthful of his cock.
"Come 'ere," He leaned back. "Come sit on it, love."
You stood, allowing him to guide your hips over his lap, his eyes settled on yours as he helped you slowly take every inch. Your mouth fell open with disbelief- your lubricated walls drew him in without resistance, his calloused hands on your waist helping to lower you down.
"Right there," He muttered, finally exhaling as your bodies were flush together. "Good fuckin' girl."
Sitting up straight, his hand moved around to grab a handful of your ass, suddenly pulling you forward. A sharp gasp left your lips, falling into his chest with your palms.
You couldn't resist, regardless of how sore your hips were, stretched out from the position, your thighs aching; you rolled your hips forward, a shiver and quiet moan of satisfaction coming from your lungs.
Your arms draped around his shoulders, enthusiastically grinding your hips against his, slowly rising up and lowering yourself to feel his cock push back up inside you. Your soft pants hit his ear, warm breath bringing goosebumps to the surface of his skin.
He pulled you close, his own quiet grunts could be heard in the quiet of your room, especially as your pace sped up. His fingers would squeeze your waist and ass, gripping tightly so you wouldn't stop.
"How's it feel?" He asked, turning his head to watch your lips part with a deep moan. "You like ridin' my cock, don't you, sweetheart?"
"Yes," You mumbled. "Yes- fuck, please touch me," you whispered against his neck, your body hunching over his.
His spread his thighs, his fingers finding your clit as you continued to bring yourself up and down on his cock. Your head fell back, fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, eyes squeezing shut.
Encircling your clit, his touch, combined with his girth sliding in and out, was more than enough to have your stomach tightening. Your moans had turned to choked gasps for air as you neared your climax, strong fingers still keeping their pace on your clit, black eyes watching you fall apart on his cock.
You froze, squeezing his cock as you came, harsh waves of pleasure that made you shudder. He sounded strained, holding in every sound that threatened to spill while your pussy clenched around him.
Rather than waiting for you to gather your composure, he lifted his hips up and began thrusting into you. It was slow at first, quickly turning needy and desperate when he saw the sweat on your brow, and disheveled expression.
"Fuck," He grunted. "Will y'let me cum in you?"
You nodded, too dazed for words, and his own anticipation got the better of him.
"Oughta get you pregnant," He huffed. His hand trailed up your waist, to gather your hair in his fist and pull. "You want it? Wanna be all fuckin' mine, don't you?"
You nearly sobbed, a quiet cry leaving your lips when his grip on your hair tightened and he forced your hips forward to meet his.
"I'm all yours," You answered, nearly all air, breathless amidst his chase for orgasm. "All yours, Simon."
Your words pushed him over the edge, a crippling hold on your waist holding you in place as he thrusted a few more times, forcefully. A low growl against your ear as he came inside you made you shiver, especially as his warm cum filled you.
"All mine, yeah?" He said, his breathing heavy.
You nodded against the side of his head, exhaling harshly.
You couldn't help but feel conflicted at the bittersweet revelation. You were his- entirely, but decades of playing pretend was not what you'd expected for yourself. You fell into him, ignoring the gnawing in your gut and pretending that the reality you'd created for yourselves was forever.
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peachesofteal · 3 months
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Part two the Sassy Series but can be read as a standalone.
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Simon Riley/female reader 3.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Angst, PTSD, canon typical violence, bombs, blood and injury. Smut, oral sex - fem receiving, praise kink, creampie. Unplanned pregnancy. Everyone is bad at feelings. He's like a bomb. Note: This was never posted to Tumblr, so in honor of the series and to complete the masterlist I decided to clean it up a bit and bring it over here.
The truck is a silent tomb.
Rigid, hard lines of muscle hold themselves still without quiver, eyes darting from the road to the floor, hands to feet. No one speaks. Soap’s fingers tap restlessly on his leg, and occasionally, he peeks around before refocusing his vision on something in the distance, something you’re not even sure exists.
The only one really looking at anyone, is Ghost. He’s staring daggers at you in the rearview mirror, fire blazing in his irises, heat so intense it forces your head down towards your knees. Even Gaz looks away from you now, occasionally nudging his thigh against your own, but keeping his gaze fixed out the window.
You’re fucked.
Simon explodes as soon as you’re all unloaded inside the gates. He detonates like a bomb, raw fury rippling through the air, impact radius large enough that it sends nearly everyone else scurrying. “Sass.” Your call sign is rough on his lips. He motions for you to step away, forcing you out from where you’re lurking close to Soap, rage, and something else, something secret, simmering beneath the surface, something you barely glean a glimpse of when he towers over you.
“Ghost. Listen-“ you hiss, fingers flying to push his hulking body away, anger boiling in your blood. He scoffs, like you’re so easily dismissed. Like you’re a child.
“You’re losin’ it Sass. I don’t know, and I don’t care how you used to operate, but we don’t pull shit like that in the 141.”
“Fuck you, Sim-“
“Don’t use my name right now.” The paint around his eyes is cracked, revealing small swaths of skin, the crinkle of crow’s feet. “You had no idea what you were doing out there!” He yells, and you snap backwards instinctively. “You were operating blind, like a fuckin’ idiot. Cap, and everyone else, seems to think you’re a world class operator but today all I saw was stupidity. Are you stupid, Sass?” His raised voice has captured Soap’s attention, who drifts closer and closer to where the two of stand. “I asked you a question.” Ghost snaps, and you want to melt into the ground.
“No.” you whisper. It’s too much. This is too much. 
“Then why would you do something like that?” He snarls, and you shy away. You’ve never seen him like this. You’ve seen him ruthless, cold blooded, laser focused on target. You’ve watched him shove a pistol in another man’s eye socket and pull the trigger, torture someone, and in the same breath, turn around and save a child from a burning building.
But you’ve never seen this. Gunpowder and rage. Metal and carnage.
You’re about to ask him what the hell his problem is when Soap steps between you both, hand out towards Ghost like he’s trying to gentle a scared animal.
“Take it easy, LT.” You use the distraction to make your escape before he can see the tears that are trying slip down your face.
Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. 
“D’ye wan’ talk about it?” Soap sits with a thud next you, soft blue eyes shining in the setting sun.
“I think you got the gist.”
“LT can be kind of intense, but don’t take it personally.”
Don’t take it personally. 
Don’t take it personally that last week he was shoving his cock down your throat, telling you how good you were. 
Don’t take it personally that last week, when you woke up sweating and shaking, he pressed his face to yours with a whisper. “Just a nightmare Sass, I’ve got you.”
Don’t take it personally, that five, six months ago in Belize, he was screaming in a field medic’s face, promising to hurt them if you died. 
Don’t take it personally. 
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shrugs, slapping you on the back playfully.
“Get some sleep, lass.” Across the gap between two tents, Price and Ghost stand with their arms crossed, murmured words drifting on the wind.
Price glances at you. His mouth moves. Ghost nods, and then leaves.
Great. 
A day passes, then another.
Then a week, then two.
Ghost- Simon, vanishes from your life. Evacuates whenever he sees you coming. At first, you tried to run him down, tried to corner him, get him to talk to you, but he’s too smart, applying his tactical prowess to his new mission: avoiding you at all costs.
One day, you catch sight of his retreating back around a corner and sprint after him, calling his name, not his call sign.
He ignores you.
He’s not Simon anymore, at least not to you. He’s Ghost.
You give up. You have enough sense to know when you’re not wanted.
“Sassafrass!” Johnny gleefully calls out as you duck into the ten for the briefing. Ghost tenses like he’s just stepped on a landmine, but you roll your eyes. Dickhead. You position yourself as far away from him as possible, just to the right of Soap, out of view.
He doesn’t even look at you anymore, anyway. Not like it matters. 
“It’s an easy extraction, get in, grab the target, get out. Don’t over complicate it.” You nod your understanding, and Price gives you a smile. “Sassy, you and Soap will tackle the southeast side of the building from the back door. Gaz and Ghost will come through north. We’ll meet in the middle.” Again, you nod, and Soap grins at you like a goofy faced teenager. “Alright. Let’s load up.” You shimmy your backpack high above your hips and roll your shoulders, partially listening to your partner’s excited, halfcocked thesis on entry tactics.
It's the behavior that catches your attention. The guy looks nervous, skin gleaming with the sickly sheen of anxious sweat, tense and poised, like he’s waiting for something.
You’ve seen it before. Too many times.
“Soap.” You whisper. Your tone is dead serious, and he turns with a question in his eye.
“What’s got ye spooked?” Your gaze flicks over to the guy you’ve flagged. You shake your head, just as your target is swinging his backpack around and unzipping the top pouch.
You try to warn Soap.
You press your comm and try to tell the 141.
You manage to do neither before the world explodes.
Your eyes open to pandemonium. People are screaming. Kids are crying. You can hardly see, debris and smoke from the explosion making your eyes water and practically blotting out the sun.
There’s blood on your face.
Everyone is scattered. The screaming echoes around you, mirroring the screaming in your mind.
Where are you? 
Your comm’s been knocked loose. Your gun is gone.
Your body is not your own. It’s acting on instinct. Fight. Flight. Push. Pull.
It shoves everything down. Everything your brain can’t compartmentalize right now gets locked away in a dark place. You can feel it all, later.
Right now, you have to survive.
“What the bloody hell was that?” Soap yells over the noise, snapping you out of autopilot. He’s somewhere behind you, sense of relief making you dizzy when you turn and see him crouched next to a large chunk of concrete. Thank fuck.
“Johnny? Shit.”
“Yeah. Shite. What was that?”
“A bomb.” You say, dryly. He gives you a dirt look.
“We’ve gotta split, lass.” The ground has a unique dirt pattern to it. The grains are all a different size, different shades of reds, greys, brown. Where are you? They work together, forming a chaotic design, one blanket of earth, dust and dirt swirling together and- where are you, where are you, where- “Sassy!” Soap’s face careens into your point of view. It looks distorted. You jerk backwards, the quick movement making your head spin. “You okay?”
“Where are we?” The words stick to the roof of your mouth. He gives you an odd look.
“Hey, Sassy. You alright?”
“I’m good. Yeah. All good.” A pause. A deep breath. A denial. “You got comms?”
“Negative.”
“Great.”
Johnny is bleeding. You didn’t notice right away, but the crimson stain spreads under his shirt near his hip, and your panic returns, ice slowly spreading through your veins, threatening to freeze you where you stand.
“You’re hurt.” You pat his shoulder, and he nods.
“We’ve got to find the others. Or the truck.”
You can’t find the god damn truck. You have no comms. No guns, only your combat knife and two grenades between the two of you, and Soap is actively bleeding.
It looks bad.
It feels even worse.
“Maybe we should just sit tight.” He grunts, and you startle.
“Yeah. Yeah, Johnny. Let’s just sit here, in the middle of active territory, with no comms, no guns, in the middle of the street. When you’re fucking bleeding out from your gut.” You snap. Confusion flickers across his face. You never snap at him. Gaz? Maybe. Ghost, yeah. Even Price sometimes. But never Johnny. “Sorry. Sorry, Soap. My head is still spinning from the blast.”
“It’s alright, lass.” His voice is calm, smooth. You can feel him watching you from the corner of your eye before he straightens, head turning the other direction. “There’s a hostel, a few clicks down the road. Want to give it a go? They probably have a phone.” You look at him, and then down the length of your own body, tallying and subtracting, plus or minus the odds.
Fuck it. 
It’s not very far, but it feels like a full days’ walk. Your head is still buzzing, proximity to the blast too close, too much, too familiar. It’s scrambled your brain, and you find yourself trying to focus on the back of Soap’s head, breathing through your nose. One foot in front of the other.
Somewhere, a block or two away, a car backfires.
Your muscles flex, and you flatten against the side of the building. Soap is talking to you, but you’re immobile, and you can’t hear him. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Something kickstarts in the back of your brain and your feet move. You give him a nod.
The woman behind the desk is terrified of you. Her eyes go round when you approach, gesturing to the phone, and she hands it over immediately, nervously looking between you and Soap, who’s slumped over in a plastic chair, bleeding.
You dial the number you know by heart without pause.
Soap is leaning against you when the truck roars around the corner, dust fogging the air beneath its wheels. He’s doing alright, your rudimentary medical skills coming in clutch when you decided to pack his wound as you waited, and the woman at the desk kindly gave you some towels for pressure. You flag them down, Price white knuckled behind the wheel, familiar skull mask in the seat next to him.
Your heart sinks.
He’s going to kill you.
When he jumps from the passenger seat, he looks anything but angry. His eyes are frantic behind the mask, wide and darting from you to Soap, pulling him from your side into his as you get closer.
“Johnny.” He says gruffly, and Soap cracks a smile.
“S’all good, Sassafrass patched me up.” He groans, and Ghost loads him into the backseat, sliding in beside him as you take the spot up front.
You’re numb. Price is asking you questions, and you’re answering as best you can, surprised when he seems satisfied after the play the play. He even says you’ve done well, the praise from your captain warming a little spot in your cold body. You nod robotically, shallow smile on your face, and check on Soap in the rear-view mirror, relieved that he’s got good color in his cheeks, still breathing.
You catch Ghost’s eyes in the reflection. They burn into you from behind the mask, pulling you apart to see inside. He doesn’t blink, and you turn away, uneasy.
You stumble away from everyone after you give Johnny a pat on the head. He’s still smiling, and squeezes your hand affectionately, medical team carting him away to receive actual care.
He’s fine. We got here in time. 
You’re staring at the blood in the sink when someone tries the door handle. After it doesn’t budge, a heavy fist thumps against the thin plywood.
“Someone’s in here.” You croak. The fist bangs again, and you sigh, swinging it open to tell whoever it is to go away.
Except, it’s Ghost standing on the other side.
“Fuck off.” The bewildered words come easily, and his eyes narrow. He shoulders through the door, slamming it shut, large hands gripping onto your shoulders and then tugging you into chest, heavy arms pressing you so tight into him that you’re having trouble breathing.
Your heart flips over.
He holds you, in silence, for a moment that feels like a decade. The balaclava scuffs along the top of your head, and he steps back, still clutching you by the arms, looking you up and down.
“Where are you hurt?” He shifts, thumb stroking a tender spot above your temple where you have a scratch, pulling the wet cloth in your grip free and dabbing it to the side of your head gently. 
“N-no. I’m not. Just Soap. I’m fine.”
“Good. That’s… that’s good.” You stare like he’s grown two heads.
“Ghost.” You’re cautious, unsure. Confused. You don’t know what’s happening, why he’s standing in the bathroom, caressing your face, helping you clean up. He holds the cloth under the tap, bringing it back up to your cheek. “Ghost.” You try again. Nothing. Finally, you try; “Simon.”
His hand stops moving. He’s as still as marble in the bathroom, lungs frozen in his chest.
He’s looking into your eyes with a long, dizzying gaze that has your own stunned wide, unable to blink, unable to look away.
Until he lunges for you.
He snatches you by the waist, dragging you out the bathroom and hoisting you over his shoulder. You yelp. “Simon, what the fu-“
“Hush.” He swats your ass like you’re a petulant child, beelining for your tent.
Sometime in the night, when the base is somewhat quiet and the lamp light has dimmed, he folds you in half on the threadbare mattress, pressing your legs back towards your ear, eyes trained on where your cunt flutters for him, clenching around nothing as you wriggle and try to press your thighs together for friction.
“None of that. Be good.” He admonishes.
“Simon. Please.” You’re not too proud to beg in this moment, that’s what nearly dying will do to you. You need him.
He sinks to his knees, still framed between your legs, and rolls the bottom of the balaclava to his nose.
It’s the first time you’ve ever really seen the skin on his face in such a large amount. No paint. No skull. No black cloth. Just his jaw, broad and sharp. His lips, full and wet, flash of tongue darting out from behind his teeth, mouth hot against your pussy, thumbs spreading you open to have his fill.
“There she is.” He murmurs, lips on your clit like a lover’s kiss. His tongue seeks your swollen nub under its hood, and it’s so much, warmth of your body, his face, all of it melting into your skin. Your heel pushes against the mattress as you rock your hips up into his mouth and he chuckles, a hand pressing down on your lower belly. “You taste good, Sass.” You clench, twitching, getting close, orgasm barreling through your nerves, body moving in tandem with each swipe of his tongue, muscles seizing-
He pulls away, hand wiping his face and rocking backwards on his knees.
“What the fuck?” You screech, propping yourself up on your elbows. He’s loosening his belt, and you can’t resist reaching, wrapping your fingers around the throbbing length of his cock. He snatches your hand away, holding you by your wrist and bending you back down, laying his weight on top of you and pushing inside your cunt with a single thrust. It’s been months, yet your body yields to him immediately, aching burn fizzling out as your walls flutter and you whine.
“My girl.” He moans, fucking into you like a man starved. “My good girl.” You stutter out a response, some jumbled nonsense that sounds like his name, sounds like Simon. “My sweet girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it.” He rears back, pulling your leg to his shoulder, foot dangling next to his ear.
“Fuck, Simon. Don’t- don’t stop please-“ His thumb continues in a circle on your clit, pleasure shooting through your muscles.
“Are you going to come?” you nod furiously, eyes clenched shut. “Look at me.” He bears down on you, gripping your face, and you find his usual guarded gaze nowhere, nothing between the two of you, just two raw currents slamming against one another they’re sparking. You can’t look away.
He thumbs your clits hard, giving you more as he thrusts, rising crescendo forcing insane noises from your mouth, sounds you don’t even recognize, gasping as your orgasm rolls over you like you’ve been hit by a truck. You tighten around him like a vice, and he swears, burying himself deep, walls pulsing around him, pulling his orgasm into you with ease.
You both slips into uneasy sleep, his body wrapped around yours so tight it almost hurts. Your dreams are broken, shattered fragments of bombs from past and present; voices screaming, friends pleading. You scream, pain and fear scratching under your skull, an attack, and bombardment you didn’t see coming. He holds you, soothes you, kisses you, still tense, coiled, ready to spring if need be.
“I got you, Sass. I’m here.” His voice is soft in the dark, fingers smoothing the sweat dampened skin of your face. “I’ve got you.”
Two days later, he rips the rug right out from under your feet.
“What the FUCK is this?” you brandish the stack of papers in your hands at Simon, who sits calmly in the corner of the tent. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge your shrieking, your voice reaching frantic pitches of incredulity.
“Can’t have you here.” He says simply, like that’s all the explanation that’s needed. You’re vibrating, rattling with fury, with fear.
“You reported an intimate relationship with Price, to get rid of me?” His eyes narrow behind the mask, but he doesn’t deny you. “Oh my fucking god, Simon.” You laugh, and it’s sour, spoiled. Rotten, like the sickness that’s turning your stomach. This has to be a joke.
“I can’t have you here.” He repeats himself like a broken record, before he’s on his feet and heading for the exit.
“Simon!” You hiss at his retreat, but it’s far too late. It’s too late for all of this. He’s already gone.
He doesn’t come to say goodbye. Johnny shuffles out to the airfield to give you a hug, Gaz and Price with him. Betrayal burns the back of your eyelids as you shake hands with your captain, and he gives you a knowing look. A sad look.
When the helicopter banks over the tents, you see the black spot of someone standing outside, face turned up to the sky, and you stare at the white and black skull until it disappears from view completely.
You’re restless.
Your house is a skeleton, the walls of the rooms empty, silence so loud you swear you can feel it reverberating in the floors. You were technically on leave, but available for transfer, even though you hadn’t put in for anything, and hadn’t put any feelers out for private sector either. There was something glitching in your brain. Something serious after that last explosion. The whispers of self-doubt echo in your mind. You were off after that bomb, there’s no denying it.
You’ve tried to cleanse yourself of it. Of him. Of everything. You stand under the spray of the shower and scrub your skin until it hurts, letting the bathroom become so thick with steam it’s hard to see. It’s the only thing that relaxes you. It’s the only place that feels quiet.
It’s three weeks later when you start to get sick. At first, you think it’s a bug and expect it to pass. You have a hard time keeping anything down, your stomach sending food and water right back up your throat, forcing you to sip electrolytes throughout the day to keep from crashing.
When four days of the same turn into five, and then six, and then a week, you start to get nervous. You start to do the math.
That’s how you end up in the drugstore, staring at the selection of pregnancy tests. Just to rule it out. You tell yourself. There is no way you’re pregnant. You were good with your pills. You rarely ever missed one. Better safe than sorry.
The test glares at you, fully aware of much an affront it is.
“This can’t be happening.” You whisper to yourself in the mirror. “This isn’t right.” Fear ricochets up your spine.
Fuck. Simon. 
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