#he's so lana del rey vinyl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloodyknucklesforme · 1 year

Text

Thunder Pt.1 | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

"Honey, if you're on fire, you're on fire Just keep burning, keep me alive Spare your blade"

You've spent the last couple of months telling yourself that your relationship was purely physical but what are you to do when Ghost comes crashing in late at night needing more.

CW: Depictions of Violence

(smut will be in pt. 2)

A late dinner of frozen pizza, a cigarette, and a strong drink. You told yourself it was almost French so it was okay. You put on some music and swayed around your flat, a little too drunk to sing on key.

"Just do it, just do it, don't wait." You sang even when the song moved on. You were always a homebody deep down, that was the one good thing about not being in the field. You had a flat instead of a tent or barrack. You could sign and dance and drink and inevitably pass out on the couch.

There was a knock on the door; three quick raps. He was there, in all his muscular glory. He still had his duffle meaning he was coming straight from base. He wasted no time pushing in and lifting up his mask to kiss you. You heard the door kick shut as he pushed both of you toward the dining table.

You stumbled under your own feet. He caught you with one thick arm around the waist. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

"You're drunk."

"It's okay," You said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck trying to reconnect the kiss.

"I'm not gonna fuck you when you're drunk, love. I'm not a cunt." He helped you into a chair and walked back towards the door.

"You're leaving?" You tried not to sound upset but the alcohol had made everything sound wet.

"Sorry, love. Really only came here for one thing. I'll catch you tomorrow, m'kay?"

"Stay..." He stopped, hand on the doorknob. You added quickly "I can make you a drink. You just got back, relax a bit."

He was hesitant. You and Ghost had only had a physical relationship. He didn't stay for a drink, he came in, you fucked and that was that. The most he'd ever asked from you was a post-sex cigarette.

"I'm not going to be drunk in the morning." That convinced him and had him turning back around to you.

"You got bourbon?"

"No, sorry. Got whiskey though."

"That'll have to do."

He was tense, even more so than usual. You fixed him a whiskey on the rocks, and his eyes followed you around the whole time.

"I'm sorry," you said handing him the glass.

"What for?"

"Being drunk."

"I'm not expecting you to live your life around me, love." He ran a hand over your hair. "I'm not gonna be rough with you if you can barely stand on your own."

"You were going to be rough?"

"Oh, yeah." He chuckled.

"You're always a little rough." You slide a hand up the sleeve of his coat, running your fingers over his muscles.

"Had a bad couple of weeks." There was a somberness to his sentence. You never talked about work with each other. You knew the type of shit SAS got involved with. His unit wasn't under your watch anymore. You got moved to domestic intelligence. You didn't need to talk.

You took his wrist and led him to the couch, you laid down and beckoned him to follow.

"I'm cold, be my blanket." He laid back, his head resting on your chest. You rubbed his shoulders, loving the feeling of him relaxing under your touch. You hummed along to the music still playing in the background. He drank in silence, one hand rubbing your calf.

"New recruit died." He finally said. Your hands had cracked his shell.

"I'm sorry."

"I've seen a lot of people die. He was standing next to me, half his head was missing when he hit the ground. I should have made sure it was clear." He was matter of fact as he spoke, his tone divulged no secrets. His eyes were heavy though, staring at the glass in his hand.

"It's not your fault."

"It is. Captain Price is probably on his way to his ma's house right now." His grip tightened around your calf. He never talked like this before. Any emotion was taken out on you when he pushed himself inside.

"Why aren't you going?"

"Carried his body nearly three kilometers. I'm fucking exhausted, love." You leaned down and kissed his head. He had this hard appearance but you remember how his eyes looked when it was you bleeding out under him. He carried deeply about the people around him. You always knew something bad had happened when he came crashing into your flat, late a night with the smell of gunpowder and oil still stuck to his skin. He'd take his anger and frustration out on you, fucking you till you couldn't feel your legs and you were crying from pleasure underneath him. You weren't afraid of him but the look in his eye when his hand snaked around your throat reminded you of who he was outside of your little world together.

"You can't save them all. It'll get you killed if you try."

"Better me than you, love." He finished his drink and twirled the cup in his hand. "Let me know if you go back in the field, won't ya? So I can keep an eye on ya. Took long enough to find you the first time. Hate to have to start over."

"Didn't realize you'd miss me that much."

"Just parts of ya." He slapped your calf before rubbing and kissing the red skin. "Maybe a lot of ya."

"I'd miss you too."

The empty glass sat on the coffee table. He had pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face against your thigh. You'd promised him breakfast in the morning.

"What kind?" He asked, kissing your thigh.

"Whatever you want."

"Breakfast in bed?" He chuckled.

"If we make it to the bed tonight."

He stretched out, his feet sticking out from over the couch arm. A hand slid up your shirt to the scar on your abdomen. He rubbed his thumb up and down the raised line. The same wound he'd held together almost a year ago. You felt like it was a security blanket for him. A physical sign that he didn't fail you. He saved you. His eyes started fluttering as he rubbed your stomach. You smiled to yourself as he fell asleep, his head resting against your stomach, his mouth just next to your scar.

You woke up the next morning in your bed with a glass of water on the bedside table and a strong arm around your waist. His hot breath against your neck.

#He's so lana del rey vinyl #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon Del Rey #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #call of duty #ghost #mw2 fanfic #my writing #ghost x agent!reader

155 notes · View notes

applbottmjeens · 1 year

Text

listening to Playing Dangerous and thinking of Officer!Graves and Mafia/Criminal!Belle

Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer No, I wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure The house was already on fire, I swear I'm not a liar (Well) I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine, thanks for asking Tell me, do you always work alone so late? Gosh, I'm a little shy standing here in my night gown Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?

Like imagine her being the sultry one for once, and Graves struggling with being a professional around her (oh how the turntables)

This ship has taken over my brain (I wanna RP/Write about them so bad FUUUCK BRO)

#modern warfare 2 #mw2 #annabelle kit pham #canon x oc #mw2 oc #modern warfare oc #phillip graves #warren kole #janella salvador #alternate universe #officer au #pls someone stop me #playing dangerous #he's so lana del rey vinyl

5 notes · View notes

chickchimm · 5 months

Text

my lana del rey man <3

#mixte1963 #mixte #jean pierre magnan #jean pierre mixte #baptiste masseline #he’s so lana del rey vinyl coded

666 notes · View notes

cmterygrl · 4 months

Text

thinking abt that tt coquette ribbon trend but w simon 🤭😵‍💫 tying a cute pink ribbon around his bicep while he flexes and he does it jst to appease u bc he will Literally do anything for u and knows u like his muscles

#ghost ─ ✮#hes so bf #so lana del rey vinyl #this cld also apply to könig tbh #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #also late asf to this like the trend isnt even a trend anymore lmao

202 notes · View notes

gordonsicedcoffee · 6 months

Text