#it really feels like new Simon is trying very hard to not be that guy anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sdmnpact · 5 months ago

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Enchanted.

Wroetoshaw x Reader angst

[] requested by @sundarksposts 💕

[] Harry, your long time friend goes on a date making your true feelings for him hard to fight.

♪ Now Playing: Enchanted by Taylor Swift ♪

I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

~~~

I was invited over to dinner by one of my best friend's Talia. I was on my way over there when I recieved a text.

Talia: ooh, I guess Simon invited Josh and Frey, do you still wanna come over? 😭

Me: it's fine, I don't hate being a fifth wheel 😚

Talia: if anything Josh and Simon are gonna be the fourth and fifth wheels babes 😘

Me: True, I'm omw!! 🥰

>>>

"Hey!!" I greeted as Talia hugged me after opening the door. "Hey!! It's been too long since we've seen eachother in person!" Talia said leading me towards the kitchen.

"You guys act like a week is a year." Simon said standing by the counter eating something. "Leave that!" Talia said smacking his hand away from the salad bowl. I chuckled at how adorable they are together.

"So, since it's basically a couples night featuring you, should we invite Harry!?" Talia said raising her eyebrows at me. Simon 'ood' like a little school boy causing my cheeks to get hot. "Stop it- no, Harry texted me he was gonna be busy tonight." I responded grabbing the salad bowl taking it to the dining table as Talia followed with another plate.

"What's he doing tonight?" She asked. "I have no clue, he wouldn't tell. He just said it was something important and I shouldn't worry." I actually didn't know what he was doing tonight. We had just hung out yesterday and he was acting weird all day. He's one of my best mates and we share so much with eachother. It kind of felt like he was holding a secret.

"Si, do you know what Harry's up to tonight?" Talia asked as Simon sat at the table. "You don't know?" He asked looking towards me. Now I was very confused. I shook my head as he let out a sigh and a worried expression filled his face.

"Harry's out on a date." My heart sunk.

Like I said, Harry and I were really good mates so it's not like we were dating but we've know eachother for almost a decade now and well, I guess I caught feeling for the man. I didn't want to admit it but I've longed for him for a couple years now. I didn't fancy him when we first met but one night, I was drunk- very drunk and I was with Harry. I don't remember much from that night but I have the most vivid memory of the way he treated me.

He didn't try to take advantage of me, quite the opposite. We were with a couple friends, many males and he became so protective. He wouldn't let me out of his sight. At the end of the night, he took me to my flat and put me in bed. He sat with me until I fell asleep stroking my hair. I found him so enchanting. He was such a gentleman. I fell in love with him after that and I've been pining after him since. I never wanted to try anything with him because I love him too much as a friend to lose him.

Hearing this news was earth shattering though. I know he has one night stands occasionally but this was an actual date. He never goes on dates unless he likes the girl and this hasn't happened in years. I fear, I'll lose him this time. I'll never get my chance, not that I would've tried. I should have, who knows how he felt about me-

"Y/n? Are you okay love?" Talia said wiping at my cheek. Tears had been streaming down my face and I didn't realize. "Oh, uh yeah, just, I've gotta use the toliet." I said making my way towards the bathroom. I felt like throwing up, I felt like my heart hurt, I just wanted to cry. I didn't realize I felt this way about him. I thought it was a simple crush.

I sat on the toliet seat letting the tears just fall down my face. I looked at myself in the mirror, my makeup was a huge mess. Maybe I should just head home before Josh and Freya get here.

Just as that thought left my head, I heard the front door open and Josh's voice boom throughout the house. He was always quite loud and made sure to make his presence known. I chuckled as he made a little joke.

I know I have to leave the bathroom but I also don't want them to see me like this. I tried fixing my makeup as best as I could and walked out. I saw all of them standing nearby staring at me.

"Awww my girl are you okay?" Freya said as she extended her arms hugging me with Talia joining in. This honestly made me cry more.

"I'm alright, but I think I should go home, I don't wanna ruin the evening." I said as I pulled away, wiping at my face. "No, don't even think about it. Let's have a little night in instead, why don't we eat a bit then, the three of us can go watch movies in my room." Talia said wrapping an arm around me. I looked over to the boys who had sympathetic looks on their face.

"Okay... sorry boys." I said still sniffling a bit. "Don't worry about it Y/n, we're just glad you'll stay here and won't be alone." Josh said as Simon nodded. "You guys are too sweet, I love you all." I said through tears. "We love you too!" Freya said as they hugged me again.

>>>

《 Harry's Pov 》

"So, you like golf?" I asked. I was on a date with this girl I met on tinder. She's quite fit and I really like her personality but she's kinda giving me nothing. Maybe it's me, I don't know why I just don't feel much for her. I was really excited for this date but actually being here is quite- strange.

"Not really, it's so boring." She said taking a small forkful of her salad. I don't think this is gonna work out to be honest. She's missing something, I just don't know what.

I felt my phone buzz and I didn't wanna pull it out in front of her but the conversation was so dead, I really wanted to check who it was. "I'm gonna head to the toliet." I told her as she nodded. I walked towards the men's room, immediately pulling out my phone, looking at the notification.

Simon: Harry, how's the date going?

Harry: oh mate, it's fucking awful. She's giving me nothing here.

Simon: well, I think you should come to my place soon then.

Harry: ??

Simon: Y/n is in shambles over here, I don't know if I should tell you why but I think she'd benefit from seeing you.

Harry: already on the way

Holy fuck. I hope she's okay. I sped walked out of the toliet getting lots of odd looks as I reached the table.

"Hey, um there's an emergency and I've really gotta go!" I told her. "Oh my god, is everything okay?" She asked with wide eyes about to get up. "Yeah, it's just something I gotta take care of. Here's for dinner, order whatever else you'd like and I'll text you soon." I said placing two hundred pounds on the table.

"Oh- um I'd really rather if you wouldnt actually." She said quietly. "Oh... okay then. Well I guess I'll see you then." I said awkwardly as I got my jacket and left. I quickly called over the first cab I saw and headed towards Simon's house.

>>>

《 Y/n's Pov 》

Talia and Freya are so great. I don't know what I did to deserve such amazing friends. They really eased my suffering as we watched 'The Proposal' while we ate snacks and had some wine.

We heard some shuffling coming from the living room and Talia went to check it out as we continued watching the movie.

"Hey Y/n? Someone's here for you." Talia said with a smile on her face. That's weird. I wonder who it is. I gave her a confused look and she just gestured for me to go. I got up and walked towards the living room.

I saw Harry standing by the door in his date outfit. I know because he only wears sweatshirts and shorts but right now he had on some slacks and a turtleneck. He looked very handsome actually. But why is he here?

"Y/n are you okay?" He asked the second he saw me coming over and wrapping his arms around me.

"Um, yeah, I'm alright. What are you doing here? Don't you have a date tonight?" I asked and he let me go and gave Simon a little annoyed look. Simon shrugged as he walked to another room leaving just us two in the living room.

"Yeah. I did. Sorry I didn't tell you, I don't know why I didn't want you to know. I just... I don't know. But- what happened to you!?! Is everything alright? It looks like you've been crying." He said pulling me towards the couch. We sat down and I just looked towards my hands, feeling the tears well up again. Why am I still crying, I shouldn't be this emotional.

"It's nothing really, just hormones I think. I'm alright now. You didn't have to come. I don't even know how you knew, you should've enjoyed your date!" I said wiping at my eye.

"Well for one, that date was fucking horrendous." He said with a breathy laugh. "The girl didn't even like me in the end and she was just not it for me either. She wasn't the girl I need to be with." He continued. "Also Simon texted me that you were upset and I knew I needed to be over here instead." He said reaching for my hand. I looked towards him, as he had been staring at me intensely.

"Seriously are you okay? You're crying again." He said wiping at my cheek. "Fuck Harry." I said now fully bawling.

"I think I like you." I said unable to hold my feelings in. Like I said, he's always so tender with me and I just love him so much. He's always so sweet and maybe I'm just being dumb and falling for any man who shows me an ounce of niceness.

"You think? Or you know?" He said as I furrowed my brows towards him. "Y/n. I've liked you for fucking ages!!" He said. My heart immediately started pounding so hard. "I know how I've felt about you since the moment we met. All these years I've always had something for you. You're amazing, the way you make me laugh like no one else, the way you aren't afraid to be yourself, the way you eat like a dog and aren't shy around me." He said with a little laugh.

"Tonight was me trying to get over you. We've know eachother for such a long time and we've never had anything together. It's been hard trying not to hug or kiss you whenever I want. I needed to find a distraction from you. All you do is cloud my mind." He said sitting closer.

"I didn't know you felt this way." I said smiling. "It's always been you, Y/n. I never wanted anyone else but you." He finished.

"Kiss kiss kiss" we heard faint voices say. I laughed at this as I looked towards him. He shrugged and leaned into me, planting his lips on mine. As cliché as it sounds, I truly had butterflies in my stomach and I felt extremely happy in this moment. After a couple seconds, we pulled away.

"I'm so glad you came."

"I am too."

~~~

A/n

I'm actually in love with this one! It's so adorable, I hope you enjoyed it!! Also I melt every single time he wears those turtle neck tops- he looks incredible!!

#wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry lewis fic #wroetoshaw x reader #w2s #british youtubers #fanfic #sidemen #sdmnpact

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dimlylittorch · 7 months ago

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soooo this is my first like REAL writing for Ghost :3 idk how but this is my longest writing so far.. 6K+ so yall be warned

My Masterlist🌱

18+ drabble MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x virgin!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader

he’s big and mean but i feel like he would be really soft with sex :((

warnings: slight daddy kink at the end, maybe some insensitive language (fat) it’s good tho i promise, female parts are referred to with said names (i’m pre-op so saying like t-dick is weird for me lol)

tbh this is my first ever like in depth smut so forgive me if it’s bad🙏

You had only recently moved away from your home town, deciding to shack up in a big city with more opportunities. Back home it was hard to make friends- let alone date. Being trans wasn’t easy, let alone being chubby on top of that. You’d never even come close to having a boyfriend.. or a hook up for that matter. But why not go to a big city? You didn’t need to reinvent yourself. You knew you were likeable.. maybe you were just fishing in the wrong pond.

Settling into a small studio apartment wasn’t ideal, but it was home. After moving in and getting into the groove of a new city and a new job.. you decided it was time to try and make friends. Or maybe even a boyfriend. But- we couldn’t set our hopes too high, right? Don’t settle, but don’t expect too much. Something you found yourself repeating constantly.

You’d never gone ‘clubbing’ before. Your home town was small, and the only bars had a lot of old drunkards in them. So you didn’t exactly know what to wear. It was chilly outside- you could work with that. You knew you wanted to look cute. Picking out a fitted turtle neck, you adding a pair of nice pants to wear with a belt. And boots! That made the whole look.

Well. You thought that would make the look. It turns out people don’t really.. wear clothes like that to clubs. Girls in short dresses, guys in plain shirts.. you definitely stood out. Thank god it was a little dark in there as you walked through the crowded club, drink in hand. You could try to dance.. but you knew you wouldn’t be a huge fan of getting shoved around or groped. What did people even do at clubs? I guess it’s not very interesting if you’re not with people.

With a sigh you walk along the back, eventually settling against the brick wall that led into the back hallways of the club. You stood near one of the back doors, sipping on your drink as you people watched. It was something you’d gotten used to- seeing other people live. Be human. Be real. There wasn’t anything as humbling as that.

When you hear the slam of a door, you look off to your left down the hallway. A large man lumbered out of the door, pushing a smaller man against the wall before practically tossing him aside. The larger man had a man or two behind him.. bodyguards? It’s dark and hard to make out much, but you see a flicker of light for a split second.

As the large man walks to exit the hallway, that’s when you see really how tall he is. Definitely over six feet, large muscles with a lit cigar in hand. As he glances around the club, his eyes eventually fall on your small form, shrunk back against the wall. His eyes trailed over your unusual outfit. What was a little thing like you doing in a place like this? When your eyes met his you quickly looked downcast, taking a sip of your drink. God, he was tall.

Stalking over to you, he stops only a foot or so in front of you. “Ya look lost” he says lowly as he stares down at you.

Looking up at him with slightly wide eyes, you chuckle awkwardly. “Well.. looks like someone found me”

He huffs at your words, crouching down every so slightly to be more on your level. “We ‘ave a dress code here, yknow” he says gruffly.

Your eyes narrow and you quickly look down at your outfit. “What?” You question. “I’m dressed nice-“ you start to say.

“Tha’s the problem, love” he mutters. “Ya gotta look slutty in a joint like this. Or like a bum.”

You stare up at him with disbelief. “This- this is the tightest shirt I have!” You scoff as you put your hands on your hips. “You want people to look trashy?”

He chuckles as he looks down at your turtle neck with an amused look. “Tha’ trashier they look tha’ more money they spend.” He muses. “You ain’t spending a pretty penny at a place like this, eh?”

“You talk like you own the place” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tha’ I do” he smirks. “Now- get outta my club. Pretty bird like you ‘ill get roughed up.” He murmurs as he opens the back door, waiting for you to leave.

You look up at him with a glare. “Are you kidding me? What if I want to enjoy myself?”

He sighs, letting the door close and leaning down. “Lovie.. yer standin’ against tha’ wall. You havin’ fun?”

You open your mouth to speak, but slowly close it again. He was right. You weren’t having fun. Looking downcast, you cross your arms over your chest again. “What do people here even do for fun?” You mutter. “Other than getting drunk.”

He hums, standing up and glancing around the club. “My.. patrons” he mutters. “Come ‘ere for booze, drugs or sex.” Leaning down again, his eyes meet your own. “Which one will it be?”

And that.. was how you found yourself following the large man who you later learned’s name was Simon upstairs to the second floor of the club. Of those three, you figured you’d go with the last. Something you’d like to experience, at least. What you didn’t expect, was for him to invite you on up. As the two of you reach the top of the stairs, he unlocks a door and when you step inside you realize- he lived on the second floor.

“Now” he says plainly as he locks the door behind the two of you. “Which team ya’ play for?” He asks as he gestures for you to relax.

“Um.. guys. Men.” You murmur softly as you set your bag on the couch, looking around gently at the neatly furnished apartment.

“Well” he huffs as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring a drink for himself. “I could use a good fuck. But if ya want someone else we got options” he murmurs with a shrug as he leans over the counter.

Tentatively walking over, you stop on the other side of the counter, eyes downcast. “Can I be honest?”

He chuckles faintly, nodding. “Never lie to a man as big as me, birdie” he smirks.

Leaning over the counter, mirroring his position you gently look up, eyes meeting his own. “I’m a virgin.” You say softly. “And.. um.. female. Technically. But I’m a guy. If that makes sense.”

He pauses at your words, looking down at you silently for a few moments. “Transvestite? Is tha’ what they call ‘em?” He questions.

Pulling a soft laugh from you, you shake your head with amusement. “Transgender. But- good try” you smile softly up at him. “You.. think you got someone for me?” You ask shyly.

He sighs softly, setting his glass down and looking at you. “Ya got me. I wouldn’t trust any other man ta’ take yer virginity” he says quietly. “Men get impatient. They’ll hurt a soft thing like you. But me? Been in the forces. Patience is all I know.”

Looking up at him for a few moments, your eyes soften as they take in his features. You can tell he’s seen combat.. the scars are there to prove it. “Thank you for your service” you say softly as you look downcast, cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of being with him. Sure, he looked rough.. but opposites attract, right?

He snorts at your words, setting his glass down. “Haven’ heard tha’ in a while” he muses. “Look.. yer nervous, I get it. But we ain’t gonna do this if ya aren’t ready.”

Sighing softly, you run your fingers through your hair. “I want to do this.” You say quietly. “I.. I’ve been waiting for a long time, you know? I’m tired of waiting.” You murmur as you push off of the counter, walking around to where he stood and looking up at him. “You don’t have to.. be with me. If I’m not your type.” You clarify as your eyes meet his own. “I’m not exactly the beauty standard or anything” you snort slightly. “But if you want to- I’d like to.”

His eyebrows quirk at your words, a smirk crossing his lips. “I’ve been with jus’ about everyone” he muses. “Yer nothin’ new f’me.. if that brings ya some peace of mind.”

A small sigh of relief leaves you, and you feel yourself relax slightly. “I appreciate that” you sigh. “So.. sex.” You murmur faintly. “Right. We- um.. how do you want to..” you trail off.

Before you can say anything else you feel a heavy hand land on your hip, gently pulling you forward into his chest. Looking up you find him gazing down at you, eyes flitting over your soft form as his fingers gently hook into the hem of your pants, tugging them down ever so slightly to feel the fat of your hip. As you suck in a sharp breath, he reaches with his other hand and grabs your own, pulling yours to rest on his hip. His neck cranes down to brush against your ear, deep words hitting your skin. “Yer allowed ta’ touch me little thing.”

Letting out a shaky breath, your eyes shift downcast to his hip where your hand was frozen. After a faint moment you gently start to feel the hard muscle of his hip, a contrast to your own body. Little did you know how the contrast drove him crazy. Staring down at your soft form made his heart beat faster than it had in weeks. Little birds like you hardly ever came into his club.. soft things that need protecting. He’d quickly grown tired of the usual quick fuck he’d find for himself on a random Tuesday night. You seemed real. And you made him feel real.

“I like your belt.” You whisper faintly, brain growing slightly fuzzy from the entire interaction. You’d grown so touch starved that it was almost overwhelming being able to touch someone freely- even if it was just a clothed hip. “Looks nice with your outfit..” you murmur. A black leather belt that matched the shade of everything else he wore.

He chuckles faintly, breath heavy against your ear. “Could say the same f’r you.” He breathes. “Cute little thing.. overdressed an’ all.”

A small smile crosses your lips when you recognize his teasing tone, your hand tentatively pulling his shirt out of where it was tucked on his left side. Slipping your fingers under his shirt, you gently graze against his toned skin, hard with a nice layer of fat over his stomach. You hear him suck in a breath at your touch, and you look up at him with soft eyes. “This okay?” You whisper.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done things slow. Usually he’d rip off a persons clothes within minutes, eager to get a quick fuck.. that sense of release that lasted for only a few sweet moments. But with you it was different. He didn’t want to push you over the counter. He didn’t want to shove you onto the couch cushions. He wanted to explore. Take his time. Watching you explore his body.. christ, it did something to him. When was the last time he truly enjoyed sex?

“Mhm” he hums lowly. “Ya ain’t even gotta ask.. ya could peg me for all I care” he smirks softly. His heart warms when he hears the laugh that slips past your lips, and he can’t help but place a faint kiss to the skin of your neck, drawing a gasp from you. “Tha’ feel good?” He questions.

Leaning into his touch, you nod slightly. “More than good.” You confess. “Would you do it again?” You whisper after a small moment. “Please?”

He audibly groans when he hears your plea, placing another kiss against your neck, this time with more passion. “Yer like a bunny.. all soft and sweet” he murmurs against your skin.

Feeling your face flush from his lips on your skin, you gently reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone like this.. he’d usually put them on their knees and take them from behind. But he liked how soft you felt in his palms as he pulled you closer, your body melting in his hands.

You shyly bury your face in his neck, placing a small kiss to his skin, earning another groan from him. “Anything in particular you’ve been wantin’ ta’ try?” He hums against your skin as his kisses grow deeper to your skin. “Any positions yer pretty little self thinks abou’ all tha’ time?” He smirks.

Feeling your face flush more you bury yourself against him as much as you can. Letting out a shaky breath, he grins when he hears your words. “Doggy.. looks nice.”

“Tha’ it is” he muses. “You’ll feel me real deep, love.. that what ya’ want? Wanna feel full?” He smirks against your skin.

Whining softly, you can’t help but nod. “Mhm.”

“Alrigh’ then. I’ll get tha’ job done.” He grumbles, making you squeak as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he brings you into his bedroom. “Bet ya ain’t never been carried like ya deserve” he huffs as he kicks the bedroom door closed, setting you down gently on the soft blankets and sheets, a nice dark gray color.

Shaking your head no, you can’t help but gaze up at him. “You’re really strong” you whisper softly.

He gently reaches forward, his hand cupping your chin as he stands over you. “Tha’ I am. But yer not heavy either.. nothin’ wrong with bein’ soft. Ya still deserve someone ta carry ya every now and then.” He murmurs as he leans down, his lips meeting your own.

Before you can stop yourself you moan against his lips, your face flushing heavily. He smiles, pulling away and looking at you. “Didn’t know ya could make those pretty sounds, hm?” He muses.

Shaking your head slightly, he reaches down to undo his belt, watching how you swallow slightly, your eyes moving to his crotch. “Ever had a cock in front of ya?” He asks as he pulls his belt off, tossing it aside and unzipping his fly.

When he sees you shake your head no, he sighs. “I’m a little bigger than tha’ average man.” He warns. “Ya ain’t gotta do nothin’ ya don’t want, alrigh’?”

“Okay.” You whisper softly, eyes glued to his crotch. Before he can pull his cock out of his briefs, you gently lean forward to palm him through the fabric. He moans out of surprise at the feeling, hunching over slightly.

“Fuckin’ christ-“ he groans. Before he can say anything else, you lean forward more, pressing your lips to his clothed cock, kissing along the fabric sweetly. He looks down at you with wide eyes, chest already heaving slightly. No one had ever done that before. “Tha hell?” He questions before you look up at him with adoring eyes.

His heart skips a beat when he sees your gaze, completely wide eyed and full of emotion. “Does that feel nice?” You whisper softly. “You feel pretty hard..” you say faintly before you look back down, starting to place open mouthed kisses along his clothed bulge. He curses to himself, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep himself steady. He can feel the heat of your mouth soaking through the fabric onto his cock which was already as hard as it could get. You were practically worshipping him and he had no idea how to handle it.

“Yer driving me wild” he chokes out. “Where tha fuck did ya learn to do tha’?” He asks quickly.

Sighing contentedly against his bulge, you look up at him innocently. “I read a lot” you say softly. “Am I doing it right?”

He laughs breathlessly, slipping one of his heavy hands into your hair. “I think yer doing it better than anyone else has..”

When you feel his hand in your hair you whine weakly, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter closed. He feels his chest burn when he sees how soft you are- a pretty little thing that just wants to be touched. “C’mere lovie” he says softly as he bends down, picking you up slightly to scoot you further up the bed. “Can tell yer just a cuddle bug.. want ya within an arms reach, hm?”

Nodding quickly at his words, you let him move you up to the headboard, resting your head on the pile of soft silk covered pillows he had. He moves on top of you, knees on either side of your legs as he looks down at you. “Gonna give ya doggy just like ya wanted, alright?” He questions as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it across the room.

Copying his movements, you sit up gently so you can pull your turtle neck off, setting it aside on the edge of the bed, leaving you in your binder. Your face flushes as his eyes trail over your torso, licking his lips slightly. When he sees your embarrassment, he moves his hands to your thighs. “Tell me somethin’ ya like about yourself” he says gruffly.

Your eyes look up to meet his own, a look of confusion on your face. But you don’t question him. “My.. my hair is soft.” You say quietly. He hums, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair once again.

“Tha’ it is. Something else?”

Humming softly, you look down at your body to think. “I.. I like my shoulders.” You whisper faintly. “They’re broad.. for a female. They make me feel more manly.” His head tilts slightly as he moves to look at your shoulders with a soft hum.

“They’ve got little lighting bolts an’ everything” he murmurs, glancing at the stretch marks that lined your body.

“Yeah” you smile softly, your gaze shifting to his torso. “I like your scars.” You add. “I.. I think they’re pretty.”

He can’t help but smile at that. He’d grown to be content with his scars- no longer hating them like he used to. “I think you’re pretty.” He replies with a small smile before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. Grinning shyly, you can’t help but kiss his cheek.

He lets out a soft breath against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes. “Something ya don’t like?” He whispers. Your smile falters slightly, looking downcast. He can see something pop into your head, but you try to think of something else. “No, no- tell me. Tha’ first thing ya thought of.” He orders.

“It’s embarrassing” you murmur faintly.

“I’ve seen combat” he snorts. “Nothing is embarrassing to me anymore. Be honest.”

Looking away from his gaze, your cheeks felt hot as you tried to put it into words. “I.. well- obviously I don’t look like.. other people in porn.” You murmur as quietly as you can. “I know it’s unrealistic. But.. still.” You sigh. “I’ve never really.. seen anyone with a.. chubbier..” you confess, gesturing down to your crotch.

When he realizes what you mean, he hums, leaning back slightly as he looks down at you. “Ya got a fat cunt, ya mean?” He smirks.

You quickly feel your cheeks flare, reaching up and playfully slapping his chest. “Shut up!” You hiss.

He laughs lowly, smirking as he looks down at you. “Cmon lovie- those are tha’ best kind. Gives a big guy like me more room to work with, eh?”

Laughing shyly at his stupid smirk, you relax some. “I guess that makes sense.” You smile.

“Alrigh’ now- back to business” he chuckles as he grabs the base of your binder, pulling it over your head. His breath hitches when he sees your chest, tossing the binder across the room.

You scoff playfully when he throws your binder. “Hey! Those are expensive-“ you start to say but your words are cut off when his lips touch your chest. You instantly arch into his touch when he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around the middle of your back as he pulls you up into his face, leaning down and placing kisses all along your chest. Blushing heavily you let out shaky breaths, slipping your fingers into his hair. “Si-Simon” you say weakly.

He groans as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing at the bud with his tongue while his eyes flutter closed. He pulls off with a faint pop, grabbing your now slick breast with his hand and kneading it. “Christ in heaven” he breathes out as he starts to suck on your other breast.

Whining faintly, you can’t help but tug on his hair slightly. When he feels the tug he lets out a low moan, the vibrations hitting your nipple just right to make your thighs clench around his waist.

Before he can catch himself his hips start to grind against the mattress, making his arms tighten around your body. He hears a moan slip past your lips and he looks up, his clouded eyes meeting your own. “Ya like that?” He murmurs. When you look at him slightly confused, brain clearly fuzzy, he squeezes his arms around you again. When he sees that same look of pleasure he smirks, moving his arms and crawling up on top of you. “is tha’ right.. little thing wants ta’ be held.” He teases as he presses his lips against your own.

Whining at his words you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. “Mhm” you whimper against his lips.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping past your lips for a moment before he pulls away. “Fuck..” he breathes out. “Yer so touch starved even a hug turns you on, eh?” He muses. “Pathetic little thing.”

When he feels how you tense at his last words, he already knows he’s said something wrong. He quickly pulls back, looking down at you. As his eyes search your own, he leans forward to place a small kiss to your forehead. “Sorry love” he says softly. “Only praise for you, yeah? We can work with that” he murmurs.

When you let out a small sigh of relief, his hands shift down to get his pants off the rest of the way. As you move to undo your own belt, he growls softly and takes over, pulling your belt off and tossing it aside before pulling your pants down to your thighs. “Ya know wha’ you are don’t ya?” He murmurs softly as he pulls your pants off the rest of the way. Setting your pants aside, he starts to tug at your briefs as he leans up to whisper against your ear. “Yer a good boy” he smirks against your skin.

You swear your heart stopped for a second when you heard those words. You felt yourself squirm under his touch, and your face felt like it was burning hot. It was one thing reading words like that- but hearing them? Christ.

He chuckles when he sees your reaction, shucking your briefs off as quick as he can. Your legs snap shut, turning your head away with embarrassment. “Ah, ah pretty boy” he muses as he pulls your hips down closer to his own, pulling your thighs open. “Don’t ya wanna show off f’me?”

Whimpering slightly when the cold air hits your cunt, you bury your face into the silk covered pillows. Your body was already on fire, just from the way he touched you. Being exposed like this was awful- but amazing at the same time. You’d finally done it.. let someone see you like this.

“Fuck me” he groans when his eyes lock on your cunt. “Let me eat him, yeah? Treat him real nice, promise lovie” he says almost pleadingly as he gets onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can hold you in place. “An’ would ya look at that” he smirks. “Not even a little wet..” he teases, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your thighs tighten around his head. “An’ why is that? Sweet boy like you.. thought you would’a been leaking for me” he smirks.

Breathing heavily as you hide your face away, you can only whine in reply. You shiver when you feel two large calloused fingers rub against the lips of your cunt, spreading them open as wide as they can go. “f-fuck” you gasp out weakly when you feel your slick start to spill out slightly, shaking in his hold.

“There he is” he muses. “Ya weren’t lying about havin’ a soft cunt, were ya? Little pussy is so tight it keeps all those juices inside, yeah?” He chuckles, slipping a finger into your tight hole. “God almighty yer tight.. squeezing my finger like a vice sweet boy” he sighs. When he hears you whimper at the intrusion, he coos softly. “Be a big boy f’me.. I promise ya can take it baby. Just a little finger.. it’s my cock ya gotta worry about.”

“too b-big” you whine softly.

With a sigh, he withdraws his finger, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it clean. “Ya really are a sweet boy.. cunt’s made of honey” he hums. “I know what I want.. flip over love” he orders.

With a shaky breath you follow his command, moving onto your knees. You look back for instruction, eyes hazy. Before you can say anything Simon has moved onto his back, scooting himself under your legs. He’s also gotten rid of his briefs, his hard cock now hanging heavy in his hand. “Gonna ride my face, alrigh’ baby boy? Want ya to soak me” he says gruffly as he’s face to face with your pussy.

You stare down at him for a moment, clearly hesitant. He rolls his eyes, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down before you can protest. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as his tongue laps at your tight hole for a few moments, the feeling making you grab the headboard. As much as you don’t want to crush him, he makes your legs give out almost instantly, pussy pressed right against his face. You sit there for a moment trying to gather yourself, but you feel a slap to your ass, making you flinch. When you do so your hips buck, and his nose hits your clit.

“Holy fuck” you choke out, quickly repeating the action, chasing that same pleasure. As his crooked nose bumps against your clit over and over you repeatedly cry out, quickly covering your mouth. With another spank to your ass, your hand falls away and he pulls away for a moment.

“The second ya stay quiet the second I stop.. means m’doing somethin’ wrong” he says plainly before returning to your now soaked cunt. Looking over your shoulder you get a glimpse of how his hips are bucking up into his hand, pumping his cock eagerly. The sight makes a wave of slick pour out of you, greeted by and groan and a quick tongue. “Simon” you whine when his tongue slips over your clit, circling the bud before sucking it into his mouth making you moan out sharply.

You can barely make out what he says into your cunt, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself. “fucking christ- suffocate me love” he groans as he laps at your clit. “Yeah- yeah fuck- can’t wait to get my cock in this hole.. gonna suck me in so good, can already tell” he rambles through huffs of trying to catch his breath.

After a few more moments you find yourself leaning over, barely able to hold yourself up anymore. “f-feels funny” you whimper, your hips slowly down but he grabs onto them, forcing them over his face as hard as he can. “Simon! it feels weird” you say quickly, voice slightly frantic.

He groans against you, slapping your ass again. “gonna feel so good baby” he promises as he sucks at your clit. “gonna make you lose yourself, I swear” he promises. Before you can say anything else you feel a large rush of slick pour out of you, crying out as your face feels a rush of heat. You try to speak, but no words can form, only weak moans of pleasure. “Fucking hell- yeah sweetheart, let me drink ya dry” he sighs as you cum on his face. He keeps your hips going, making sure to drag out your orgasm for as long as he can. “good boy- good fucking boy”

Breathing heavily, you can’t help but whine at his words, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “simon” you plead, your pussy sensitive to his tongue.

He sighs softly, a faint air of disappointment in his tone as he pulls you off of him, sitting himself up and moving you into his lap. “I got ya” he says softly as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Ya did so well.. never woulda’ thought ya were a first timer. Yer cunt loves attention, hm?” He muses against your ear. You whine faintly in reply, curling up in his arms as you try to slow your breathing. His heavy hand rubs along your back, holding you as close as he can. “Perfect, you are” he murmurs against your ear. “God, that cunt feels good. Ya realize that yeah? Felt good getting my tongue sucked like that, hm? Fat lips returning the favor.. bet they were disappointed it wasn’t my cock” he breaths against your skin.

As you rest against him, he can’t help but reach down to rub your clit a little more. “Simon..” you warn tiredly, your eyes looking up to meet his own. “Need a minute”

He sighs softly as he looks down at you. “My cock disagrees” he chuckles faintly, moving his hand to his hard dick and slapping his upwards against your cunt making you gasp. “C’mere- gonna fuck ya in doggy like ya wanted” he murmurs as he turns you onto your knees once more. Not having the energy to keep yourself up on your hands, you let your face rest against the pillows. “Good boy.. head down ass up, right? Ya already know the drill” he smirks as he gently taps the tip of his cock at your entrance.

Your voice has become hoarse from moaning, so how your noises were weak and gravelly. A groan slipped past your lips as your hands grasped at the blankets, back arching your ass into the air. He smirks at the sight, letting his tip rub up against your clit. “Silly boy.. say yer not ready but then ya put yer ass up begging for it”

“fuck- fuck si” you choke out when he rubs his fat cock against your slit, the tip bumping against your clit repeatedly. “please-“ you whimper.

“Oh? Now ya want it in? Fickle little thing you are..” he muses, but before you can reply the head of his dick prods at your tight entrance making you gasp. “Oh fucking hell.. i was right baby- yer fat cunt makes it ten times better, i swear” he groans.

You practically squeal at the initial little stretch, slapping your hand onto the mattress as you try not to cry out. Simon quickly leans over you, resting his head next to yours as he whispers against your ear.

“Cmon lovie- yer alright.. promise baby boy- you’re doin’ so good for daddy. ya wanna call me that? ya can if it helps” he says sweetly against your skin.

You let out a weak sob at his words, tears spilling from your eyes as he puts the tip in completely. “daddy” you choke out faintly. You knew you had a bit of a daddy kink- but you didn’t think it would come out for your first fuck.. turns out it helped with it all. Made you feel safer.. more cared for. “daddy- b-burns” you plead.

Simon groans as he slips in a little further, his chest heaving from how tight you are. “I know baby- fuck, i know.. burns for daddy too” he chokes out. “fuck, your little hole is tight. gotta work ya open a little more, okay lovie? half way there”

Whining sharply as he presses further in, you’re gasping for breath from the sensation. You suddenly feel his fingers on your clit, swirling quickly to relieve some of the burning sensation. “That feel nice?” He whispers against your skin. “i bet it does.. makes ya all wet f’me. yer doin’ such a good job.. such a good boy for daddy” he murmurs against your skin as he places soft kisses along your shoulder.

With his large body encompassing yours, you’d never felt so safe. He was all you could feel, completely surrounding you and your senses. The entire world faded away except for him. “fuck- feels good” you whisper pleadingly.

“there we go.. that’s it” he says softly as he bottoms out, fingers still circling your clit. “you did it baby.. daddy’s gonna make you feel good, alright? promise ya- promise it’ll feel good.”

With a weak nod, you let your face fall back against the mattress. You hiss as he starts to pull back out, but when he pushes back in it’s not nearly as bad as the first time. And what definitely helps is hearing him right in your ear. Heaving grunts and groans as his hips buck up into you, getting faster as you open up more.

“God- your fat pussy is sucking me in so good” he chokes out against your skin. “Ya hear that?” He moans, referring to the loud smack of his hips against your wet cunt. “Ya hear how good this cunt is? Holy fuck baby- gonna keep this all for myself- how’s tha’ sound? Letting me suck on this cunt every day? Promise I’ll pound ya this good every time” he pleads against your ear.

Moaning sharply as his balls smack up to meet your clit, you tilt your ass up more so he can get even deeper. “fuck!” You cry out.

As he pumps faster into you, he holds you tighter against him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “please cum baby” he chokes out pleadingly, his resolve slipping away. “oh fuck- please cum for daddy- wanna feel ya squeeze my cock so good- i know it’ll feel so so good, please” he rambles breathlessly as your cunt clenches tightly around him.

Whining at his words you reach down to grab his hand and press his fingers against your clit a little harder, making you gasp out loudly. He feels a flush of slick rush around his cock, your walls tightening around him so hard it almost hurts. “ah! Fuck- fuck, lovie- yer so fucking tight, gonna pull my cock off” he grunts against your ear as he tries to buck against you more, whimpering slightly when he feels the resistance. Before he can move again he moans against your ear, his thick seed streaming into your cunt.

With a weak sob of pleasure you collapse onto the mattress completely, Simon pulling you as close as he can while still on top of you. His hips buck up slightly as he cums, gasping every time he feels your walls flutter around him. “ohhh fuck yeah, take it” he grunts. “taking it so well” he murmurs against your skin as he empties himself inside of you.

After a few long moments he opens his eyes to look down at you, seeing the tear soaked pillow under your face. “You okay sweetheart?” He says softly, his voice hoarse. When you nod weakly he sighs, pulling you close as he moves to lay on his side. “Can’t believe no one fucked ya before that” he murmurs against your ear. “Fucking incredible you are.. honored you let me break ya in.” He chuckles faintly.

When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you and that’s when he saw you with your eyes closed, breathing softly. You were snuggled up against his chest.. and you’d already fallen asleep. He sighed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over the both of you, still staying inside of you. “I’ll clean ya up after a nap” he whispers against your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Perfect boy.” He whispered before he fell asleep with his body holding yours tightly.

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rememberwren · 1 year ago

Text

A Dichotomy of Thought || 8

Previous/Next Chapters Here

Poker Night

CW: non-consensual drugging, date rape drugs, non-con, dub-con, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, homophobia, slut-shaming, food control, fat-shaming, vomit.

He pops the tab on the soda can, the sound of aluminum grating against your frayed nerves. You sit at the table, hands tucked under your thighs because all you want to do is wrap them around yourself, hold yourself, feel a comforting touch, even if it’s only your own. He brings the soda over and sets it gently on the table in front of you.

It is Saturday morning.

“I know last week wasn’t fair to you,” your boyfriend says, planting both hands on the table, the picture of rationality. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you. I’d like to think we’re past that point in our relationship. Don’t you?”

You nod, teeth clenched tight around a scream.

“So from now on—” he holds up a pill for you to see, then slips it through the open soda tab into the drink. He slides the drink forward toward you at the table. “No more slipping things in your drink without you knowing. From now on, you get to make the choice. Don’t misunderstand me. It’s going to happen either way. The sooner you get used to that, the better. What you get to control is whether you have a good time…or a bad time. So what’s it going to be honey? Good or bad?”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your fingers are numb when you untuck them from beneath your thighs, trembling as you reach out for the soda—

—and tip it over onto its side, a sign of defiance.

His placid mouth stretches into a wide grin. Soda drips off the edge of the table and onto the floor. Drip, drip drip.

“Now,” he says cheerfully. “Why was I hoping you’d choose that?”

It is Saturday morning.

He pops the tab open on a can of your favorite soda, pulled chilled from the refrigerator. Warm is best; it helps the pill dissolve faster, more thoroughly. But when the drink is icy cold, you are less likely to taste the bitterness on your tongue. If you try hard, you can pretend that it is your very first Saturday, that you have just been handed a drink by your boyfriend, that you have no idea what is in it.

“We’ve got extra guests tonight,” he says, sliding the soda can to you. “I want you on your best behavior.”

“I always am,” you mutter.

“That’s just not true. Don’t bullshit me, baby. When you bullshit me, you bullshit the best.” He slides the drink toward you a little more, eyes dark and curious, wondering if you will drink this concoction that makes you relaxed and pliable, this drink that makes you enjoy the terrible things that are done to you.

But Simon and Johnny will be there tonight. You glare up at your boyfriend and slide the soda back across the table. “You wouldn’t. Not in front of the new guys. I’m not stupid.”

“Baby. You’re dumber than you look if you think I won’t do whatever I want in front of whomever I want,” he says with a laugh. He slides the drink back. “Next time you push that away, I’m dumping it down the sink. Make good choices.”

You almost do it for him. You really do. A part of you is sure that he’s bluffing; it just makes no sense. Why would he put himself at risk this way? But there’s a small frightened part of you that is always ready to be surprised, always ready to be taken to a new low, dragged to a fresher hell by these hands which were meant to love you. Maybe he would do it.

And is it worth it to defy him? You remember that one miserable Saturday after you had dumped the drink over. It had been one of the most painful, humiliating experiences of your life. Your Fridays afterward were often spent agonizing over the decision to come: was it worse to give in and drink? Did it make you wrong to not fight back, to even sometimes find moments of begrudging pleasure in your own rape? Did it make you weak?

The thought of being like that in front of Johnny and Simon—soft and slurred and slutty—makes you feel…strange. You don’t want to think about it. The other side of the sword is just as sharp: if you don’t drink, you will be painfully aware of everything that happens to you, aware of Johnny and Simon’s participation—or their impending disgust.

What is worse?

Reaching out, you take the can with a shaking hand and go to tip it over—then change your mind at the last moment. You drink it down in its entirety, letting it fill your hollow, aching belly, even if the sugar makes you nauseous.

Your boyfriend pulls a face, like you have pleasantly surprised him. He reaches out and takes the empty can from you and says, “Good girl.”

You want to be sick.

“You’re in a good mood,” Simon says while making breakfast. He was up early this morning, well before Johnny awoke. Usually when Simon wakes first, he’ll take care of whatever business woke him and then lay in bed with Johnny until the other man wakes, but this morning when Johnny’s eyes blearily opened against the sunlight streaming in through the balcony doors, the bed was empty. Trust, he thinks. Simon’s beginning to trust him to be on his own more often

“Could say the same fer you,” says Johnny with a grin, tapping the fingers of his hand against the table as he waits for his plate. His voice pitches lower when he asks: “Did yeh wake up on the right side of the bed, or are yeh just excited about what day it is?”

Simon scowls. “Nothing to be excited about, Johnny. It’s not a recreational event.”

“I don’t know,” Johnny says, leaning back in his chair. “I’m looking forward to it.

“You can’t kill him.”

“Heard that line before. Rehearse a few new ones.”

“I mean it,” says Simon, bringing Johnny’s plate to the table and setting it in front of him. Classic English breakfast. Fuck, Johnny’s stomach does a flip, he’s so goddamn hungry. It’s cut into bite sized pieces, but Johnny can overlook that. It’s a necessary evil for now, until his coordination is a little better—which it is, every day. Next comes Johnny’s orange juice, but just as Johnny reaches for the glass, Simon holds it up out of his reach, a frown in place. “Promise me that this is just reconnaissance. You won’t try to kill him—no matter what may happen.”

It’s Johnny’s turn to scowl. He lets out an irritated breath through his nose.

“Gonna starve me if I refuse?”

“Yes.”

“Bastard.”

“I don’t hear any promises.”

“I promise, I promise. Gimme that.” Johnny takes the orange juice. Simon lets it go, sighing. Though Johnny has told him what he wants to hear, he doesn’t seem comforted by it, Johnny thinks as he tucks in to his breakfast.

Maybe he can tell that Johnny’s lying.

“How do I look?” Johnny asks. He has buttoned his shirt on his own—a feat which only took him five minutes of careful coordination and deep breathing. Give me a fucking medal, he thinks to himself as Simon comes over to help him button his jeans (which are still too difficult to manage, depending on the pair he pulls on). Simon’s hands so close to his cock have Johnny humming, close to a purr in the back of his throat.

They still have not fucked since the accident, but Johnny thinks soon.

“You look like you need a haircut,” Simon says, voice rumbling against Johnny’s back where they are pressed together. One of Simon’s hands brushes through the lengthening fringe of Johnny’s mohawk, and Johnny lets himself shut his eyes at the touch, feeling a satisfied, sleepy urge come over him. Simon presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, and warmth blooms in the pit of Johnny’s stomach. Simon’s been like this all day: affectionate, borderline clingy. Doting.

It’s a far cry from the way they had treated each other all week prior, and Johnny finds himself grateful for the change of pace.

But he can’t let himself be distracted now. Not when so much is on the line. Poker begins in less than an hour, and Johnny has promised Simon that he will be on his best behavior. It’s not a promise he looks forward to breaking—but what promise ever is? Johnny plans to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open, taking in intelligence and making plans.

But if an opportunity presents itself—if Johnny can find a single moment alone with your boyfriend—Johnny won’t hesitate. What a terrible accident it will be, he thinks gleefully.

He turns in Simon’s arms and must turn too quickly. He stumbles, nearly falling. Simon braces him, helping to hold him upright. He sees the strange look in Simon’s eyes and frowns.

“What is it?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Alright.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Aye,” says Johnny promptly, grateful for an easy question. “With my life. Yeh know I do.”

“Do you trust me with her life?” Simon asks.

Johnny sighs a little. Simon has been so obliging today, Johnny should have suspected that he was waiting until the last minute to try to talk him out of any hairbrained schemes. Still, he says: “Yes. Not much I wouldn’t trust yeh with, Si.”

Simon hesitates.

“What is it?” Johnny prompts, reaching up with his hand to cup Simon’s cheek. He isn’t used to cupping this cheek, and it feels odd under his palm, almost like touching a stranger. “Go on, get it out.”

“Will you forgive me?” Simon asks.

“For our fight? Aye. Water under the bridge.” Johnny leans forward and places a kiss on Simon’s mouth. Now that is familiar: the curve of his lips, the way their noses brush, the scent of him.

Johnny is nearly out of the room, heading for his shoes (and his crutch, considering how unsteady he is on his feet) when Simon speaks again: “Not for that.”

Johnny stops and turns. The room turns with him. Simon stands with his back to Johnny, his huge shoulders hunched, hands hanging loosely at his sides. Johnny wishes that he would turn around and look at him, let him see the look on his face—except when he does, there is something oddly recognizable there, an eerie familiarity that he can’t put his finger on but which makes Johnny’s heart pound.

“For what, then?” Johnny wonders.

“For putting that Oxy in your orange juice.”

Goosebumps prickle all along Johnny’s arms and thighs. He stumbles again, and Simon is right there to catch him. Johnny is always unsteady on his feet when he’s been taking his pain meds. He stares at his lover blankly, struggling to piece together the what, the how, the why.

“Need you to be safe,” Simon whispers. “I can’t have you there Johnny. I need you to be safe.”

“Y’ drugged me?”

“Just need you to get some sleep. I’ll be back by the time you wake up, and when you do, I’ll tell you everything,” he says, helping Johnny towards the bed. Johnny collapses back against the pillows, weak not from the Oxy but from his own horror and shock. Simon says: “I promise.”

“Fuck yer promises,” Johnny slurs, eyes misty. Simon sits by him on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair until he begins to snore.

It’s all compartmentalized, his feelings packaged into neat boxes and put away in the safest recesses of his mind. It’s remarkably like being on an op, when he would have to triage his own emotions: cannot face that one yet—push it back and come back to it later (or never, if more convenient). He practically feels the mask slipping into place, down over his eyes and nose and mouth. No more Simon, just Ghost. Ghost on a mission. Ghost preparing himself to do and witness terrible things.

He’s numb to it all. His hand doesn’t even shake when he knocks on the door to 7C. Your boyfriend answers, brows raised with mild, surprised politeness, as if he didn’t truly expect that Simon would show (and Simon didn’t show, Ghost thinks darkly, but this idiot has no idea of that). Ghost holds up the case of beer he bought from the 7/11 down the street and the other man’s mouth stretches into a grin.

“I’ll take that from you—come on in. Make yourself at home,” he says, slipping the beer from Ghost’s hand. “Where’s your other half?”

“Sick.”

“Shame.”

“He’s no good at poker anyway. Doesn’t have the face for it,” Ghost says. He doesn’t even consider asking about you, isn’t willing to compromise his own position by revealing any favoritism toward you. Moving inward, he comes to stand in the living room. It’s eerie being here, this strange reflection of his own apartment. There are differences: the kitchen and dining room are separate, only one bedroom here as opposed to the two at 5C. It is very clean, rather impersonal, without any pictures on the walls or framed photos on the end tables.

There are hints of you: your shoes in the rack by the door, your name badge resting by your keys on the table in the foyer. But you are nowhere in sight.

Two other men are already in the apartment, seated around a square dining room table, dividing out poker chips. Ghost runs an analytical eye over them even as he nods his head coolly in a greeting. They are relatively fit, though neither particularly tall. Likely low risk, though he would be a fool to underestimate them when they have the numbers in their favor.

Before Ghost can even take a seat, there is another knock on the door and a third one enters.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Leah wanted my help putting the girls down for their naps.”

“I hear a little whiskey goes a long way,” your boyfriend suggests, shutting the door behind the final straggler. Everyone laughs except for Ghost who merely raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“You know Leah. She thinks there’s an essential oil for everything; alcohol ain’t it,” the man says. He points to Ghost. “Who’s this?”

Your boyfriend comes to rest a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost takes notice of the height difference between them with distant, dim pleasure. “Fellas, this is Simon. He’s in the apartment next door. Let’s all pretend we’re gentlemen so as to not scare him off.”

More laughs. Everyone takes a seat around the table. Beers are cracked open, and Simon feigns sipping at his as cards are dealt. He is pinned between your boyfriend and the straggler, but his back is to the wall which gives him a sense of security. His knife sits heavy where it is holstered against his lower back, keeping him from fully resting against the chair.

He wishes that he’d brought a fucking gun.

“So, Simon,” someone asks. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“Simon’s gay,” your boyfriend tells the room, though where he has gotten this idea from, Simon couldn’t say. Is that what you believed? Did you tell him as such?

The straggler beside him visibly shifts away after this news. One of the other ones pulls a face like he has sucked on a lemon.

Simon has never put labels on himself—finds them constricting as opposed to comforting—but he’s been attracted to people of all genders at one point or another. It’s good though, for him to be misunderstood. Let their misconceptions about gay men color their representation of him, let them think him weak or soft or whatever the fuck their homophobia believes. It rolls off of Simon like water off a duck.

“Problem with that?” Simon asks the straggler, picking up his cards.

“No,” the man lies. Coward.

“Maybe your wife has an essential oil that will cure me,” Simon suggests. The table laughs at their friend’s expense, even the one who had pulled a face.

A round passes; Simon lets himself lose. He listens to the conversations with one ear and to the rest of the apartment with another, straining for any sign of life from you. He hears nothing.

Until: “So where’s the fiancé?”

When all eyes turn to your boyfriend, Simon realizes that you must be engaged. You don’t wear a ring, and you’ve only ever referred to him as your ‘boyfriend’. Maybe it is a new development—or a development that you don’t agree with. He feels a dim stirring of satisfaction at the thought, dampened beneath his persona.

Your boyfriend gives a coy smile. “She’s around. You know how she gets around strangers. Shy.”

“Does that mean no…?” They all share pointed glances. It’s clear that there is something they don’t wish to say around Simon. Ghost leans forward, elbows on the table, waiting for one of them to break and give him a hint. Beneath the table, someone kicks the shin of the one speaking.

“Think I could use another beer,” one of them says, standing. The others agree hastily. “Simon? You good?”

“I’m good.”

The man disappears into the kitchen, but is only gone for a moment before returning. “There’s a goddamn lock on your refrigerator.”

Your boyfriend laughs. He reaches into his pocket and works free a small silver key, handing it over. “Yeah—keeps the cows out of the pasture, if you know what I mean.”

The table laughs—Ghost does not.

“I don’t get it,” he says, sliding his cards toward himself across the oak table and examining them with mild interest. The others fall silent as Ghost makes this moment purposefully awkward.

“Don’t worry about it,” your boyfriend says with a laugh in his voice. “Just a little inside joke we have around here.”

Ghost hums.

Another round passes. The guys share stories about their work, their wives or girlfriends. Some of them have children. Do they know what their friend does to you? Ghost wonders. Could they possibly not know? They occasionally make an effort to bring him into the conversation, but his answers are terse at best, and eventually they stop trying.

More rounds, chips changing hands. The empty beer bottles begin to stand like silent sentinels around the tabletop. Ghost puts little effort into winning, preferring to perform average at best so as to not attract attention. He keeps a close eye on the clock, a fraction of his energy always thinking of Johnny at home. Johnny who is hopefully sleeping peacefully.

The next hand has just started when the door to the bedroom bursts open so abruptly that the handle knocks against the outer wall. You stand in the doorway, your face twisted in some expression too complex for Ghost to begin to unravel.

The table loses it. Shouts of your name, whistles, joyful perverse greetings—a half dozen hands reaching out toward you, like you are the final member of this party and they have only been waiting for you to arrive. Your shoulders are nearly by your ears, you're so tense, eyes flickering around the room from face to face, sticking on Ghost for a fraction longer than the others.

One of the men manages to brush against your wrist with his fingers and you wrench your hand away as if burned. The knife at Simon’s back itches; he wants it in his hand.

Your boyfriend sighs, laying his cards down on the table. “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“It can wait.”

“It can’t.”

The two of you communicate silently for a moment: sheer stubbornness on your end with mounting frustration on his.

At last, he stands with a roll of his eyes. “Excuse me guys. You all know how she gets.”

The two of them disappear into the kitchen. Sensing his chance, Ghost pushes away from the table. “Think I need that beer after all.”

The others pay him no attention, ducking their heads together and talking under their breath to each other like a group of teenagers. It lets him slip away from the table and linger outside the kitchen doorway, silent as his namesake. He holds his breath, listening, knowing that this is the moment he and Johnny have been waiting for: concrete proof that your boyfriend is mistreating you.

“—isn’t working. I didn’t cheek it, I swear. Give me another, please,” you’re saying quietly, voice thick with tears.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Please! I don’t wanna—”

“Not gonna happen because there wasn’t anything in that soda, you stupid slut,” your boyfriend whispers softly. The words echo around in Ghost's brain, bouncing off the walls of his skull. Mission successful. “I just wanted to see if you’d drink it. Now go back to the bedroom and stay there until everyone has left. Understood?”

There is no response. Footsteps are heard—

Ghost has enough time to duck into the bathroom and avoid him—but he doesn’t. He lets himself get caught by your boyfriend, both of them staring at each other, eyes hard and knowing. There’s no reason to keep up the charade anymore, not after what he just heard.

“Need something, Simon?”

“That’s no way to talk to a woman,” Ghost says, soft and dangerous.

Your boyfriend rubs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “If I were you, I’d mind the business that pays me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Are you—threatening me?” he asks, head tilting in a manner of mild surprise. There’s something in his eyes that Ghost can’t identify, something that looks a lot less like the fear he would hope to see and looks instead like delight.

“I don’t like that word,” he says. “Leaves behind a certain degree of uncertainty. If I ever hear you say something like that to her again—”

His words are cut off as from the kitchen comes a scream, a wordless shriek of rage followed by the ear-splitting shatter of a ceramic plate. Even Ghost jerks, eyes flickering to the kitchen doorway, but there is no sight of you. A plate careens into his line of sight in the doorway, shattering to bits on the floor where you have thrown it.

“What the fuck,” your boyfriend mutters. Another dish shatters. He raises his voice, calm but booming: “Alright: everyone out. Poker night’s over.”

Simon returns to his apartment with heavy steps, feet nearly leaden with dread at what he is going home to, at what he has done. He opens the door to quiet darkness, steps inside, and lingers there just inside the door, listening for Johnny’s quiet snores.

He hears quiet sniffles instead. Stomach clenching painfully, he follows the sound to the bedroom and finds Soap on the floor. He has rolled himself off the bed, likely awoken out of sheer willpower and tried to follow after Simon. Johnny looks up at him, pupils blown wide, eyes red and swollen from crying.

“I’m sorry,” Simon whispers fiercely, kneeling down beside him. “I’m so sorry Johnny. I had to do it. You know I did.”

“I hate you,” Johnny whispers back, tongue thick. All of the sudden, his face pales and he leans forward, vomiting on the floor between them.

It is the least that Simon deserves.

#ghoap x reader #dichotomy of thought

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not-delusional-at-all · 1 month ago

Text

Just the Tip

MDNI 18+

Ghost x femreader

CW: religion, sex, manipulation, dubcon??? (Idk maybe)

Been sitting on this for a while, hope you guys like it. Sorry I haven't posted new content in a while. Life's been crazy.

You and Simon had been together for a while. Simon really likes you and you really like Simon. You two got along really well but there is one point of tension between the two of you.

You're a Christian and you hold your faith very close and dear to your heart. That in itself isn't the issue. The point of tension between you and Simon is that you want to wait until marriage to have sex.

Simon respects your wishes but it's hard for him. He's never had to hold back for so long in a relationship. It doesn't help when you'll make out with him and still grope him and grind on him. How is that not supposed to drive him crazy?

The second his fingers even think about dipping below your waistband, you hit him with "no Si, remember? Not 'til marriage"

He'll reluctantly move his fingers from the waistband of your pants and groan and tell you "you're killin' me love"

This has gone on for months. He can't take the teasing anymore. It's killing him to go home after hanging out with you and he has blue balls from hell.

One day, it finally dawned on him to ask to put just the tip in. If your hymen is still intact, you're still a virgin in the eyes of God, right?

"Love, please just let me put just the tip in" he practically begged. His cock was painfully erect and trying to break out of his jeans. He needed relief, desperately.

"I dunno, Simon... I made a promise to God..." You told him. He wrapped his arms around you and held you, trying to butter you up so you would give in.

"Just a little taste? It's just the tip, it won't break your hymen- therefore you'll still be a virgin" he assured you. You were still iffy. You didn't know if this was a legit loophole.

He took a step back- his hands still resting on your shoulders and he looked at you with a pleading look in his eyes. He was begging for you to allow this. He looked like a kid begging their parent for a toy they saw in the store.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear "It'll feel good love. Don't you want me to make you feel good?". His hot breath fanned your neck as he spoke. It sent shivers down your spine. Your walls were starting to crumble. Maybe he's right? Maybe God will allow this one thing to fly.

You sighed, indicating that you were giving in and waving the white flag. "Let's do it" you responded. His face broke out into a wide smile before kissing you. "You won't regret it, love" he told you.

You two quickly started kissing and groping each other again to get back to the same intensity you were just moments ago before he brought up just putting the tip in.

He wasted almost no time at all getting you naked. This was the first time he had ever seen you nude and he marveled at how beautiful your body was. He was ready to make you his in every way possible.

"S'beautiful" he murmured as he positioned himself between your legs. He lightly brushed his thumb up against your clit, causing you to squirm which earned a light laugh from him.

He played with your clit for a few moments, bringing you to the edge of orgasm. You were biting your lip and gripping your bed sheets for dear life.

"Cum f'me love. I need you nice and ready f'me" he told you, his voice low and raspy. You finally let go, you cried out his name as he continued to assault your clit. You were feeling bliss and overstimulation all at once.

Once your orgasm died down, he gave you a kiss before sitting up and undoing his pants. "You sure you wanna do this?" He asked. You nodded before he pulled his cock out, the head glistening with pre-cum.

He smirked and got back on top of you, he lined himself up with your entrance. As promised, he put the tip in. It was taking all of his willpower not to go any further.

Just that little bit he felt of you was like heaven and he so badly wanted to go in fully.

"Y'feel divine, love" he murmured as he thrusted the tip in and out. You bit your lip, enjoying the feeling. You wanted more.

"more" you breathed out. "You sure, love?" He asked. You nodded frantically and his smirk widened to a full out grin. You didn't need to tell him twice.

He slowly pushed further into you, taking it slow so he wouldn't hurt you. He finally bottomed out and let out a groan. It was like your pussy was made specifically for him. So tight and warm wrapped around his cock.

He started to move after a moment, once he knew you were adjusted to him. He started off gentle but slowly started to go a little harder.

He knew he was getting close. He can usually last longer but fuck... You felt so good, like you were milking him for every last drop he has without even trying.

He reached down to play with your clit. He wanted to pull one more orgasm from you before he came.

It didn't take long for you to reach your orgasm. Hearing you cry out "Si..." as your walls clenched around his cock was music to his ears. He couldn't hold back anymore.

"'M gonna cum" he breathed out before pulling out and cumming all over your chest and stomach.

He's definitely gonna go get a ring before you can feel guilty about sinning and you're gonna have his last name by the end of the week. And there's nothing you can say to change his mind.

#call of duty #cod #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #task force x reader

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tac-the-unseen · 3 months ago

Note

Hey can you write some actually traumatized Simon Riley x reader Headcannons?

It kind of annoys me that so many people just sexualize him without addressing the actual trauma he went through for two years and beyond.

So I guess I'm really just asking for a non- hypersexual Simon x reader XD

Non-hypersexual Simon Riley x Reader

CW: Trauma

•It would take years for Simon to let you get close to him

•And it would have to be you to ask him out because he sure as shit won't ask first

•When you guys do start dating he wants to go over boundaries immediately

•He doesn't want to set you up for failure so he wouldn't even consider a relationship until you've had this talk

•It’s a really hard talk for him to start and go through but he does it because he has to. He doesn't want you to accidentally trigger him or for you to get your feelings hurt

•He really does like you, and that's why he pushes through

•The first thing he tells you is that he is in no way, shape, or form ready for a sexual relationship

•He explains that he doesn't know how long it will take for him to be ready, but it will be at least a few months

•Simon understands if that's a deal breaker for you, in this world he knows that sex is more Important in relationships then most people would like to admit

•When you assure him that it's more then fine and you're willing to wait he lets out a very shaky breath neither of you know he owes holding in

•He goes through more boundaries with you with much cooler nerves

-PDA to a minimum (an old therapist was killed because Simon was her patient. He's not letting someone who actually cares about be murder because you wanted to hold hands)

-Make your presence known before you touch him, especially from behind (this is man who has seen war, if you run up and hug him without warning you will be thrown to the ground)

-Don’t pressure him to tell you ‘stories’ (with two years of torture, years in the military, and an abusive childhood there is so much he isn't willing to tell you or anyone)

-Don't talk about intimate details with others (If he wanted to tell them, he would do it himself.)

-He will leave if anybody starts talking politics (even if it's stuff he agrees with, he’s not going to waste his time like that. He has to talk about that at work all the time and he will not do it at home.)

•It takes a while for him to feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed with someone else

•He's paranoid. He stays awake thinking that someone might try and attack you two in your sleep

•Simon has to sleep with at LEAST a knife in his pocket to be able to soothe himself long enough to catch a few zzz

•Night terrors are a common occurrence

•There are several nights where you wake up to find yourself alone in bed

•Simon will pace around the house, making sure blinds are closed, doors are locked, and no one is in the house. Even then he will sit on a chair, armed, and simply wait for something that's not so unlikely to come.

•Asks you to limit and delete some of your social media posts. No one should know where you live other than close family and friends. He will scroll through all of your accounts and tell you why they may or may not be security risks.

•Simon does have social media accounts. they are just burner accounts he uses to keep up to date with the news and big events.

•Simon knows that what he's doing can be seen as controlling and he understands if your family and friends don’t like him, but he’s terrified someone will gather all this information and kill you because you couldn't be safe online.

•Asks if you’re willing to sign up for self defence classes and if you’d be willing to let him teach you basic and more advanced skills.

•Will show you where exactly to stab someone so that they can’t scream

•Pressure points and how to use them to your advantage

•He will show you how to use a gun,knife, Brass knuckles, and (if he can find somewhere that will let him) bombs

•Will tell 141 about you and they also look out for

Thanks for reading

#x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #modern warefare ii #fanfic #fanfiction #writer

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bobodemais · 7 months ago

Note

hi, I would like to ask how the characters relate to each other in your au, what kind of relationship do they have

I'll try to resume as much as I can, since I'm not in the mood to be too much specific on each sprunki relationship... Althought I can be more specific on any sprunki duo that you guys want, just ask on inbox!!

CHARGES DOWN BELOW!!! (ALOT OF STUFF, with alot of orthography errors.)

First of all, everyone """kinda""" likes Tunner, but not in a way of him being a good person, but more an authoraty. (even though, there are some sprunkis that genuiely enjoy him, like Gray and erm... uhm... Sky?)

Wenda and Pinki really respect each other, not only as friends, but as both persons that increases on eachothers life in a good way. (Kinda, I imagine they like Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, but way less dramatic and with way less death involving it.)

Jevin and Pinki are kinda of "what you do is amazing, and you're and incredible person". Kinda simple, way much then you'd expect.

Jevin and Oren are kinda son and dad? Oren is just chill around with Him, somehow. Maybe it's 'cuz he's the only one that actually gets him.

Durple and Fun boy get to be amuzed by eachtoher everytime they have an conversation, even though they always talk, they still find an new thing about eachother everyday. (It has been 2 years already and they still learn from each other).

Wenda and Garnold are cousins.

Oren, Simon and Fun boy are brothes (Fun boy it's adopted)

Jevin and Tunner got to be the official responsibles of sky.

Garnold and Clurk takes care of fun boy (they see eachother as family now)

They just stare at each other on the street and get awkard.

Pinki and Oren date. Not even the other sprunkis know how due to Oren's personality.

Vineria and Owackx are married (exactly 1 year)

Clurk and Garnold are dating.

Oren and Raddy are queerbait.

Pinki and Wenda are dommed.

An untentional love triangle. I will not go any further on this.

It's kinda hard to see, but there ya go.

Pinki is besties with Wenda and Jevin. Although Jevin and Wenda knows are chill about it.

Raddy and Gray are good friends (they get eachother)

Jevin and Owackx are bffs, two chill guys that talk about life alot.

Tunner and Simon are one sided relationship.

Brud and Clurk are besties. (Garnold is a bit jealous)

Somehow Durple understands Simon better then anyone else (the coldest human vs the harmest robot)

Raddy is basically friends with everyone who's open enough to talk with.

Even though Vineria ain't bffs with neither Wenda or Pinki, she's still part of girl's grup.

Gray tries to be friends with people but alot of ppl thinks he's weird (poor guy it's just autistic...)

Sky is basically Tails, so everything envolving robotic amazes him. That's why he loves Durple.

Somehow the only actual friend Tunner has is Wenda. Heh....

Wenda 'n Simon are buds, sometimes they talk. They're pretty much chill.

Alot of beef. Most of sprunkis dislike Wenda and Simon.

Most reasons for W is 'cuz she is scary for them, for Oren it's 'cuz he's an asshole.

Pinki and Tunner mutually dislike eachother, but for 0 reasons.

Like I said before, Oren it's kinda of an emotionall asshole who kinda hates everything and everyone. (He basically have a beef with everyone)

Everyone fears Wenda. Like I said, there ain't an reason further then "she's weird".

Even though Vineria is friends with pinki, she fears what she can do (lore, not going any further on this topic).

Sky just doesn't get a good vibe from Pinki.

Vineria kinda fears Jevin, he's way too chill and sweet about everything, he looks more mystherious than he actually pretend to be (only on her perspective...)

Tunner CAN'T feel safe around most sprunkis. He's terrified with the idea of anyone getting an deep conection with him. Even though this idea is impossible (since he still tries to talk genuiely with a very few sprunkis) he's still pretty much reserved "Trust no one and you'll never get in danger".

No one really got to know Tunner better. And with all of that, he's still somehow pretty sociable.

+ EXTRA!!!111!!

Uhm. Yeah? it's literally it. Besides from respect, family and neutral. They relationship is pretty much complicated to say at least (on this alternative reality of course) 0_0

That's it! Hope you have enjoyed.

Remember, if you want any of those sprunkis to interact, send the request on inbox <3

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erinfern0 · 2 years ago

Text

contrasts of intimacy.

simon "ghost" riley x inexperienced!afab!gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, afab anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: you're not very experienced, but you want to try something new, changing things in the bedroom feels like a good idea. All those fantasies of yours, Simon turning rougher, turn you on more and more until he finally agrees.

warnings: inexperienced reader, talk of safe words, use of safe word, manhandling, slight spanking, discomfort, possible sub drop, etc.

a/n: based on this lovely request! I've been away for a while, but I'm so glad to be back here with you, guys!!

Convincing him was difficult, not only were you a little embarrassed to ask for such a lewd thing, but also — he's such a stubborn man. The idea itself was tempting, Simon got so hard just listening to you explaining what you wanted. Shifting his hips on the couch, adjusting his sweats as he just nodded his head.

Pure torture and such a betrayal of your innocent, inexperienced nature to ask for something like this. Not that it was wrong or immoral, as Simon made it clear that he's more than happy to try new things with you. But God did he adore to watch you squirm in your seat, trying to get some coherent sentences out.

His mind was slowly coming back to his senses when you mentioned that you'd like him to do anything seemingly painful, like pulling your hair or spanking you. He just couldn't imagine himself doing something like that to you, immediately thinking about actually hurting you.

You thought he's going to deny you, turning your offer down and never thinking about this again, but he surprised you, holding your hands in his and slowly rubbing your palms with his thumbs.

“We'll have a safe word.” he assured, a smug smirk on his face before he looked up at you. “You'll let me know when's too much, yeah?” his hand slowly rubbed your thigh as he waited for your answer.

“Of course!” you said happily with a stutter, almost falling into his embrace as you tried to hug him. Simon's muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you on his lap, your cunt pleasingly pressing against his crotch. “We can just go with the traffic lights.”

Simon started prepping kisses to your lips the way he always used to, sweetly and slowly before he sped up, easing his hot tongue into your mouth, devouring every little gasp that left your throat.

The contrast of his harsh, sloppy kisses and his hands groping all over your body make you dizzy, mindlessly reaching down to untie the little knot of his sweatpants. Your other hand pulls his hair, grazing your nails over his scalp.

He groaned, pulling on your lower lip while pulling you closer, his hot breath mixing with yours as you ease your way under his pants and boxers, wrapping your fingers around his twitching cock.

You were not really experienced, but Simon made sure to teach you exactly how to make him feel good, so that's exactly what you did. Slow strokes down his shaft, combined with your thumb teasingly rubbing on his slit, made him grow harder in your hold.

Your actions caused his usually soft touches to turn into him sinking his fingers into your hips, guiding you to rub yourself over his clothed thigh and bulge. His kisses followed a path down your neck right before he flipped you, laying your body on the couch, your back and neck pressed into soft pillows.

“Take 'em off.” he demanded, looking down at your shorts before he suckled another hickey into your shoulder. The dark rasp of his voice, hoarse with desire, made your stomach turn in arousal.

You obeyed, pulling your shorts and panties down your legs to throw them on the floor, looking up at him to meet his dark eyes, looking completely black in the light of your living room.

You felt like prey, just waiting to be hunted down and devoured, but that's exactly what you asked from him. That's exactly what you wanted, needed, even.

Simon pushed your legs apart, pulling them closer to your chest so he could watch the way your glistening pussy kept clenching around nothing. His eyelids felt heavy as he played with your folds, pulling them apart just to chuckle at your little squirms and pants.

“This really gets my angel wet, huh?” he asked more to himself as he kept your legs up with one hand. The other left a gentle spank to your pussy, watching your legs shake from the stimulation with a choked-back moan of his name.

He always loved your sounds, not only your voice but also the way your skin rubbed against his, how your hair nuzzled into the bedsheets, and how your juices squealed under his fingers.

But the thing that kept him going the most was the way you kept chanting his name as your nails dug into his forearms. Your soft pleas for him to finally fuck you and not just make sweet love as usual.

“Si, please, please…” you mewled, watching as he pulled his sweats down, his cock pressing right between your folds. Simon slammed his tip over your clit, quiet curses slipped off his tongue as your thighs twitched.

He complied, gently pushing his cockhead into you, working you open to stretch around in such a familiar, breathtaking manner he had to grip the underside of your thighs. Pushing you down just to feel you all over him, your gasps making goosebumps appear all over his back, just where your nails tried to reach.

His fingers deepened their hold on your skin, probably leaving bruises, making you shiver in such a pleasurable sting of his nails making their way through the thin layer of your plush skin.

“Desperate thing.” he groaned, his leaking tip finally reaching your cervix, so deep you felt as if it was pushing right against your brain, making you all dizzy and hazed with pleasure.

Everything was just as you imagined, starting with deep, slow thrusts, pushing all the nice spots that made you see stars, but then Simon quickened his moves. His hands kept your thighs up, knees as close to your chest as possible as he rammed in and out of your slick, clenching hole.

You two lost yourself completely in the feeling of each other's bodies, so different from your usual sex. You've turned into a shaking, panting mess under his form, towering above you, fucking you with such force the whole couch shuddered under you.

As much as you loved it, loved him, your perfect little fantasy became too much. It was perfect until you couldn't breathe as clearly as before. Legs pressed against your chest too much for you to appreciate his filthy words or the mess between your bodies, noises of both pleasure and slick spread around the room.

The pain in your thighs became unmissable, and even when he asked, you tried to stay strong. You were the one to ask him for this, you didn't want him to feel bad for possibly hurting you, just as bad as you didn't want him to stop. So you kept your cool, tears pooling on your eyes that were closed shut, and moans turned more performative than ever.

Simon couldn't miss the changes, though. The way you clenched around his cock made it harder for him to slip back in every time he pulled out. Your grip on his forearms has become harder, leaving marks all over his skin as he slowed his moves again.

“Look at me, love. I need you to look at me.” he murmured under his breath, hand pulling away from your thigh to cup your chin, thumb caressing your dry lips, bringing your attention to him. ”You're okay?”

You shivered, both palms now resting against the couch, too tired to touch him again. You swallowed harshly, nodding your head almost mindlessly, thighs already shivering from how exhausted you got after just a couple of minutes. They hurt, a strange sting running all over your legs caused by being held up for too long,

Breathing deeply, you allowed him to slowly pull out, his palms running calming shapes over your skin, waiting for you to gather your thoughts. His thumb caressed your face, letting you focus on his touch rather than the pain.

Tears started running down your cheeks despite your desperate attempts to stop them. Sobbing underneath him, you closed your eyes, trying to cover your face with your hands, but Simon pulled them away with quiet 'shhs' spilled off his tongue.

“Just say it, it's okay.” he mumbled, the dark browns of his eyes locked on yours, his gaze softening. His hair was messy, slightly over his forehead as he leaned forward, waiting for you.

“Red.” you gasped out, embarrassment filling your voice as you shivered. He kissed your knee right before he helped you relax your legs, placing them flat on the couch for you.

“That's it, sweet thing. Just rest for me, yeah?” he cooed as he stood up, collecting your clothes off the floor and slowly slipping your underwear on your body. Your body melted perfectly the way he wanted, allowing him to pull his bigger shirt over your head, covering you with an addition of a blanket.

Simon kneeled beside the sofa, his fingers pushing stray hairs away from your face. “Too much?” he questioned, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder.

Nodding your head, you smiled weakly, words of an apology coming out of your mouth before you even thought about them. He just looked at you, his jaw clenching. “Nothing to be sorry about. You were so perfect, sweetie. Stopping when you don't feel good anymore shouldn't make you apologize, ever.”

Slowly, you accepted his hand reaching under the blanket to interlock your fingers with his, the reassurance you needed was right there. Sleep tried to take over your body as he hummed into your exposed neck, leaving gentle kisses on the fading marks he had left there before.

“I'll get us something to eat and some tea when you wake up, don't worry about anything.” he added before he sat on the couch right beside your head, pulling it over his sweatpants-covered lap, massaging your scalp just the way you loved the most, letting you rest.

masterlist | request info

#simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod mwii #gender neutral reader #riri writes

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anonmousegosqueak · 3 months ago

Note

Im going for the pasta and don't dare you ruin everything! (/j) You can add your own headcanons on how they cook pasta too:)

Ghost: Thus fucked barely knows how to cook eggs, or not burn milk, so i guess I have to say that he probably has watched a tutorial every time he cooked something outside of those two things and that by such his pasta is usually just either plain penne or broken spaghetti, usually with some tuna or just cut tomatoes because he doesn't know how and when to add the sauce

Price: he knows just enough to not make his mother's souls hunt him for the rest of the month (she knew how to cook decent pasta compared to him). He probably tried conchiglie and orecchiette more for their form than for their paracticality when eating, but je found that when he is on leave, if he ears slower, he gets less stomach aches, so he uses these "hard to eat" shapes so he paces himself better.

Nik: this man has had fresh pasta with soup for a good half of his life (cheap and relatovely easy to buy) and by this he cannot cook it any way that doesn't contain soup. So he often eats stelline or mini macaroni in either thick or thin soup.

Roach: This man is American. I do not believe in any way that he would be able to cook pasta in a way that I can describe without having a heart attack. Two words. anonmousegosqueak. Airfrier.

Soap: because his mother taught him some level of pasta cooking he can cook spaghetti without breaking them and if he is doing something fancy he might add some swordfish (it tastes much better than it sounds)

Gaz: husband material, he can cook and he can make it taste incredible, the only problem is that he doesn't read the minutes on the box and his pasta is always overcooked, and by this it is usually too soft to feel good in your mouth unless it's the feeling you are going for.

Red: Australian man near the stove? Yeah… no… Red ge the fuck away from the stove, you are going to birn down the whole house!

Hehehheeee-

(same characters, we're going in my order though)

Price:

He can cook... Decently well? Nothing fancy, he's not a cook, but he can definitely boil boxed pasta (*sigh*... without breaking it). Sauces aren't very good though. I'm talking mostly he just melts a slab of butter and calls it a day, maybe some canned tomato or something but that's only if he's trying to get in Nik's pants later. Doesn't salt the boiling water, will run cold water over the strainer noodles to cool 'em faster.

Ghost:

You said it best- no cooking skills. Now, it's not like he's a total man-baby, he can take care of himself, but that 'taking care' is mostly just knowing what food to order that is healthy. I also see him as the kinda guy who unironically eats those bulking protein meals you see on tiktok. Like yeah, unseasoned chicken on his broken and overcooked spaghetti. It's easy and simple and it... Well it doesn't taste good but he can choke it down. He's more of a desserts and baking kinda guy, doesn't care too much about savory food.

Soap:

Unpopular opinion but this man can cook! I'm not saying he's Scottish Gordon Ramsay, but he knows his way around the kitchen just fine. Listen- mamma MacTavish is a brilliant woman who can work a kitchen, she wanted to pass those skills down to her kids. So when her toddler son wandered in while she was trying to teach his older sister how to cook an egg... Well I guess he's her new student! Johnny was always the most interested in cooking, way more than any of his sisters. Now he's wowing Simon on their date with his fancy hand-made pasta and fresh pesto sauce (he gets some good head in return)

Gaz:

MY HUSBAND. Literally! He's the cook in his and Red's relationship- making dinner almost every night. (Don't worry, Red cleans up in return). He loves to experiment, always finding recipes and putting them to the test. He really does excel in sauces though. His pasta...? A bit overcooked. Still tastes amazing though, the flavor beats texture every time. He also definitely makes those protein bulking meals- except it actually tastes good. His spice rack is full (not a euphemism (unless you want it to be)) and so is your belly. Red doesn't mind the texture problems as well, their shitty teeth thank him every time. It's actually why they've never corrected him, they like being able to eat without their jaw hurting. Everyone else suffers but they don't care, it makes Gaz happy whenever he gets compliments on his food.

Nikolai:

Nikolai. Can. COOK. Makarony po-flotski from home, ravioli from Italy, fuck- he can even make an amazing macaroni and cheese like the AMERICANS YEEEEHAAAWWWE- (I'm talking enough butter to give a horse a heart attack and enough cheese to kill a dead horse. Breading as well). He's traveled the world, picked up recipes all around as well. And even before then? Well he was a starving man who quicky learned how to make a lot from a little. Everything is a stew with some sort of meat, vegetables are optional (he couldn't always get fresh veggies) but preferred, but always *always* some sort of pasta. I'm sorry but you do not get to that amazing size from eating like shit- a proper bear needs proper meals. He knows quite a few recipes just from memory as well- and again, from all different types of places.

Roach:

Roach... Roach is allergic to everything (especially tomatoes) and an American (sometimes). You really think he can make pasta? Boxed Mac&Cheese (not Nik level), broken spaghetti, and everything is always overcooked. He can make some good sandwiches though!

Red:

It's not even the Australian! It's the pyromaniac-y-ness. Besides, they never really learned how to cook with spices. I mean, when you live in a tiny compound that grows all its own food, you don't exactly get a lot of cooking experience. They can make bread! But pasta? They're lighting the noodles on fire for fun before Gaz kicks them out of the kitchen or Topino kills them and feeds them real food. The only time they even tried to make their own fresh pasta, they were drunk out of their mind and made a semi-sweet orange flavored monstrosity. Red and Roach are banned from the kitchen, Gaz cooks food because he cannot trust them (and cooking brings him joy)

Topino:

Italian.

#call of duty #cod #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #cod headcanons #gary roach sanderson #cod nikolai #cod oc #red cod #nikprice #Ghoap #redgaz #red x gaz x roach

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bluejukebox · 2 years ago

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somewhat damaged - ghost x reader ˚₊⊹

The 141 Task Force gets their own special combat medic, one who catches the attention of Simon "Ghost" Riley. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ warnings: NSFW !! MDNI !! afab reader, blood, stitches, unsafe sex, p in v, vaginal fingering, some dirty talk ☆

They were all huddled in Captain Price’s office when he proudly uttered the words : “We’ll be expecting a new addition to the 141”. Ghost couldn’t exactly say he was happy. He especially couldn’t when the captain was being extremely vague about this ‘new addition’. It wasn’t a secret that Ghost was absolutely horrible with new people, the walls he’s built for himself standing strong and high. Maybe it was a territory thing or maybe a textbook case of trust issues, he wasn’t sure. All he knows for sure is that his ‘distrusting of people’ habit gave him a not so positive reputation around base. His intimidating figure, mannerisms and appearance scared people off, which he definitely prided himself on. He knew that the other members, specifically Gaz and Soap, would try and force information out of Price by continuously whining, so Ghost decided to sit back and observe, per usual.

“C’mon cap, ya can give us a lil’ bit more than that can’t ya?” Soap immediately perked up from his chair.

Price shut his eyes out of annoyance. “MacTavish, don’t start.", with a deep sigh he continued “If I had more crucial information about her I would’ve already given it, don’t you think?”

“Her?” Gaz and Soap both astoundedly said. Even this little detail caught the Lieutenants attention. He’s worked with numerous women before, to him the sex of a person isn’t a problem as long as they keep to protocol and know what they’re doing. The Task Force 141 would occasionally team up with other ‘groups’, like the Shadow Company, but new members being assigned was rare.

With yet another deep sigh the captain continued speaking. “Yes, her. She’s a very reputable combat medic. As you all know there’s been some staff shortages in the medical area around here”, he said while cutting the tip of yet another cigar. “- and trust me I know how stubborn some of you guys get about getting your injuries checked out, don’t even try to deny it. In my professional opinion I think she’ll be a valuable asset to our Task Force, you’re all dismissed”. He waved his cigar clad hand towards the boys to signal them to get out.

Not even a second after Ghost leaves the office he hears the scot rambling on, “Ya hear that LT? A lady, I wonder what the lass is like”.

Ghost frowned beneath the mask, he had expected Soap to be more concerned with the girl’s gender and less her combat abilities and medical skills, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. All he gave in reply was a grunt while he strided back to the ‘dormitory wing’.

As he left the area he heard the loud discussion between the members about the new mystery combat medic, but it wouldn’t be until a couple weeks later that you’d arrive.

And god, Ghost was troubled, These complicated, strong feelings all started the second you stepped foot in the base…

The contrast between you and him was astonishing, you were so vastly different from him. The bubbly personality, and the cute shy way you had introduced yourself to the Task Force really caught his attention. You’re a proper pretty woman, with a very nice physique that was obviously trained hard for. Safe to say he was interested, though he’d never admit this outloud. The man isn’t known for being in touch with his feelings and definitely isn’t known for accepting intimacy, but that’s somehow exactly what you got him to do.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was a rough mission, bad intel all around, your ears still ringing from all the shooting, explosives, the deafening sound of jet fighters flying close to the ground and projectiles. But the numerous injuries needed tending, the severity of them varying was your responsibility, you needed to focus. You needed to mend their wounds and nurse them back to health.

It was a close call but you all got to safety, hiding out in a little safe house far enough from where all the chaos was unfolding. You immediately got to work, readying your supplies and putting on some gloves to maintain the little hygiene you could. Firstly you treated the wounds that called for the most attention, which thankfully weren’t life threatening if they get proper treatment back at base. After the emergency operations on numerous bullet grazes, scrapes, cuts and bruises the group was finally able to rest their eyes for a moment.

They all scattered off, sounding grunts and hisses of pain. That’s when you realized there was one person you hadn’t mended to, Ghost. Your eyes lifting to find his, you found him looking at you with his brown eyes, his masked head quickly turning back to observe the treeline outside the window.

“Someone’s gotta keep watch, you can go take a break” He heavily grunted, exhaustion evident in his gruff voice. “Are you okay? I-I’m here to help, I want to help you”, You frowned, disappointment unmasked in your response. Ghost could feel his heart skip a beat, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone spoke to him the way you did, the feelings you gave him were clouding his judgement. “I’m fine love, go rest up”

That nickname always got the blood rushing to your face, time and time again. You already were a shy person, the guest free and welcoming nature of the members of 141 didn’t change how intimidating they all were to you. But hearing the endearing nickname come out of his mouth, with his extremely attractive accent and voice, it was a no-brainer that you started developing feelings (and fantasies) for the man. You thought you hid it pretty well, the way you’d become bashful when he spoke to you, the way you’d stutter your replies back. Obviously you didn’t, the others caught on pretty fast. It quickly became a huge trend in the 141 to tease you about your schoolgirl crush. Soap calling you ‘Mrs Ghost’ when you were alone or the looks they’d send your way when the lieutenant would lift the hem of his shirt to tap away the sweat droplets at the juncture of his neck during training. Even Captain Price joined in, it positively mortified you.

It was hard not to be intrigued by the skull mask, the skull sewn onto a balaclava, white paint replacing the place where the mandible would’ve been. There was obviously a lot of thought put into it, maybe love you wondered. Ghost wasn’t one of the youngest men in the military, it was safe to assume he had a partner and family waiting at home. That's why the late night fantasizing about the lieutenant made you feel guilty and gross, and the innocent crushing foolish.

“Alright, the offer still stands. Would it be okay if I stay here, with you?” The grunt you got in response was enough affirmation for you, quickly finding a spot to settle down and silently thanking the gods for the blankets that were still stored in the safehouse. Slowly you dozed off, exhaustion from the day weighing down on you and pulling you down into a light slumber.

You were awoken by muffled hisses of pain, lifting your head from your makeshift pillow and trying to locate the sound which you quickly found. There was Ghost, stripped from his usual heavy gear, instead sporting a grey t-shirt, awkwardly stitching up what looks like a very deep bullet graze on his left bicep. Your shifting must’ve alerted him because his head shot to where you were resting. He knew he was caught.

“Oh, Ghost.." you sighed “You could’ve told me atleast, it’s my job you know”

“Didn’t wanna burden ya”, he muttered after a pregnant pause looking properly defeated. He dropped the needle and thread. Slowly you got up from your prone position, standing up to stretch your legs. Cautiously you sauntered over to where he was sitting. “Well you can’t possibly burden me, and definitely not when you’re hurt and in need of assistance” You smiled, your presence truly calmed him. But the way you cared, the way you talked awakened something deeply buried in him, you were so confusing to him, a mystery.

As you got closer to him, you settled down against a nearby chair. “Can I help you now?”, to which he only nodded. Carefully you placed your hands on his forearm, your touch making him jump.

“Sorry, my hands are pretty cold”, you bashfully said.

That’s not why he jumped, he couldn’t even feel the temperature of your hands. Calling him touch-starved would be an understatement, the simple feel of your softer hands touching his tainted skin so gently made his blood rush down south. He felt so perverted, he was getting hard from you simply doing what you were assigned to do.

You simply took over for him, disinfecting and stitching up his wound for him. In the amount of times he’d come to you for help you both felt the tension. It was undeniable, and this time it was the exact same. Even though the safehouse was chilly, even though you could see every exhale you felt flushed. Warmth spreading over your entire body, and pooling in your lower belly. You could barely sit still while tending to him.

“I’m almost finished” You whispered, your tone coming out more breathy than you had anticipated. The arm you were tending to tensed up, in fact his whole body tensed up. Suddenly the air around you both seemed to get heavier. He couldn’t help letting his thoughts transition over to a more inappropriate side of his brain. It wasn’t the first time his mind went there (certainly not the last). On lonely nights he’d have the image of you splayed in different positions, situations, outfits- He was sure he looked a mess; clammy hands, a tense body sporting a semi. Praying to god his hard-on isn’t as visible as it feels, he wasn’t small by any means, nothing about him was. You both sat in silence waiting for you to finish up, noticeably your movements got more jittery and shaky. He saw the way you crossed your legs over one another in the corner of his eye. How your legs were squeezing together for some form of relief. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not, there could absolutely be no chance you were interested in him, no chance he was the reason you’re getting turned on. One of his specialties is observing people, there’s no way he never noticed the signs.. Now he was staring intently at your face, his body fighting against the urge to kiss you, mark you, push you to your knees-

“All done” your cheery voice cut through his lewd train of thought. When your eyes met his, your body was uncontrollable, your hand that was patching him up slowly drifting over his bicep, over to the place where his shoulder met his neck. That was the last straw for Ghost. Gripping your waist and pulling you towards him, faces inches apart. He could feel you breathing, eyes shifting down to your plump lips, chapped from the cold.

Suddenly your face showed uncertainty, which immediately made Ghost drop his hands from your body.

“Do you have somebody waiting for you at home? Please be honest with me”

“Oh love, I don’t, I promise I don’t”

You’ve never heard his voice sound so desperate, so warm and needy. With the vulnerability he’s showing to you right now there’s no way he’s lying. All you could do was give him your signature infectious smile, that was his queue to touch you again. When he started lifting up his mask, placing the hem of it on the bridge of his nose, you were absolutely mesmerized. His strong jaw with a slight stubble and plump lips were on display, all and only for you.

Your hands sneaked from the juncture of his neck to his jaw, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back to his eyes. Faces inching closer, lips slightly touching but neither of you giving in. Before your lips finally met, he grabbed a hold of the sides of your face and ground his lips on yours. He grunted into your lips which made you whine back into his. The kiss became more and more needy, hints of nips and licks. Now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he’s become insatiable. He doesn’t even want to imagine never feeling your lips on his again, you were intoxicating. The position you both were in wasn’t comfortable anymore, he manhandled you and made you sit on his left knee, your back to his chest and his knee resting comfortably between your legs. His lips now working his way down the right side of your neck, hands moving from your hips to your thighs. His touch was light, hands moving from your outer thigh to your inner, before gripping lightly and spreading them for you. Your thighs felt so sensitive, his touch made your body light aflame, nobody has ever had this effect on you.

“Is this okay darlin’?” He spoke against your neck, if his accent didn’t make you crazy before, it definitely made you crazy now.

“Yes, please don’t stop” you whispered, unfortunately you weren’t alone in the safehouse and you definitely weren’t hidden. All you got in response was a chuckle. His hands kept teasing you, noticing how sensitive you got when he caressed the insides of your thighs, when he got closer to where you needed him most. Slowly his hand inched towards your tactical belt. But you beat him to it, desperately unbuckling and removing it. Ghost could only watch in amusement.

He helped you with the button on your pants, he couldn’t wait to feel what a mess he turned you into. He’s been dreaming about this for weeks now, the way you feel, your taste, the sounds you’d make, all of it. His brain already working overtime to tuck the memories of your warmth, the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips safely tucked away in his brain. It’s something only for him.

The zipper of your pants being pulled down sent your brain into overdrive. You were so horny, your clit throbbing, positively drenching your underwear. Without thinking you shifted your hips backwards, your butt being driven into Ghost’s arousal as well as your clit making contact with the surface of his thigh. Bunching the fabric of his pants up in your hands while barely being able to contain your whine. What you both were doing was taboo, him being your superior and all. If anybody found out there could be drastic consequences for the both of you, but he obviously couldn’t care less about that now, and honestly neither could you.

“Take what you need love, god- you’re so beautiful, I can feel you through my pants”

Slowly you started rocking your hips back and forth, the friction and pressure just enough to relieve you even a little bit. Breath hitching at every pleasurable rock against him, he started helping you thrust your hips by guiding you with his hands on your hips. You swear you could cum from this, you were so sensitive. All the pent up energy and all the fantasies you’ve had about him weren’t helping.

“I-I’m close”, you whimpered, fisting his pants even harder than before, positively stretching the material out.

"Already? You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, won’t ya?” Your brain was clouded by lust. You couldn’t even detect the humorous mocking in his voice. Him praising you is what set you off, hips starting to rock in a frenzied rhythm trying to reach the climax heavily burning in your core. Ghost started rocking his hips into your ass, simultaneously pleasuring you even more, his mouth so close to your ear, licking and biting on the lobe. His heavenly moans, grunts and heavy breathing pushed you impossibly closer to the edge.

The fire in your core burned brighter with every thrust of your hips against his thigh. Letting go of your hold on his jeans you stabilised yourself against his hands holding your hips. Your body tensed, you threw your head back against his shoulder and moaned a lot louder than you should’ve when the pressure finally released, the pleasure kept building and building in intensity, every muscle in your lower region tightening in a delicious rhythm. “Good girl,” he breathed out, you were moaning so prettily, he wanted to save every octave and tone you were making in his brain so he’ll never be able to forget. The slow grinding of your throbbing clit against him brought you back to earth from the best orgasm you’ve had in your life. When he saw you came down he started to rub your arms soothingly up and down. He started pulling you even closer to him, the pressure and warmth of his body on yours helped you come back to your senses.

“I-I’ve- nobody has ever done that to me”, you giggled, turning to look at him. Who would’ve thought his touch would be like magic. Your body felt like jelly, but somehow you still wanted more. “You’re so beautiful when you cum”, He said while brushing loose strands away from your face, his eyes staring into yours. It was so incredibly intimate, his touch so tender it was making you melt. His hand yet again wandering to your core, brushing over your shirt clad breasts and travelling down to your open zipper. His fingers found their way inside your pants, he could feel the warmth radiating off of you. The way his fingers immediately felt wet simply just touching you outside of the fabric of your underwear, you had to be dripping. Even the insides of your thighs were a little slick.

“God, doll, you’re so fucking wet”, he groaned out. All you gave back in response was a high pitched ‘mhm’ muffled by your lips. His cock throbbing at this discovery, the fact you were affected by him so badly was making him feel so self-assured, his ego positively growing. Everything about you was perfect to him.

After caressing you for a while through your underwear he finally decided to put his hand in your underwear, the uncensored feeling of his skin on your sensitive flesh was better than you could’ve imagined. With no fabric in the way it felt twice as good as it did before, you felt him spread your labia with his fore- and middle finger, making you clench, another drop of wetness dripping out of you. His now lubricated fingers moved upwards and circled your clit, you whined and moaned at his actions.

“I want to fuck you so badly but I need to get you ready for me love, fuck- I’ll take care of you”

That’s all he said before his middle and ring finger dipped down to your opening, making sure they were covered plenty in your slick before sliding inside you. You were tight due to your recent orgasm. He stopped halfway, his hands being huge compared to yours, he knew you’d need some time to recover.

You’ve never felt so desperate for somebody, it was consuming you. Every fiber of your being needed him, you needed him to go faster, to go deeper. You wanted him to mark you, for him to be yours, and you his.

Your hands grabbed onto the arm that was busy pleasuring you, one palm slipping from his forearm to his hand, trying to push him deeper inside you. He hadn’t even touched you for 2 minutes and you were already close. He was going to be the death of you.

“Ghost- fffuck, go deeper, I need you”, you were shamelessly moaning now, the thought of the other members being inside the building pushed out of your brain by the mind blowing pleasure Ghost was gifting your body.

“Call me Simon, love”

You chanted his name, feeling yourself yet again get closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach unraveling faster than you ever anticipated. You were gradually getting tighter and tighter around his fingers, it felt even better. The rhythmic rocking sent you into yet another overwhelming orgasm.

Ghost felt you gush around him, the sound of your slick with every thrust was deafening. He had to do everything in his power not to cum in his pants. You were truly a dream come true to him.

When you calmed down and he felt your walls around his fingers relax, they slipped out of you. Strings of wetness tied his index finger to his middle, even his palm was wet. He started working on getting you both undressed, quickly pulling off his hoodie and shirt. Seeing him strip had put you into action as well, quickly ridding yourself of your shirt. As you sat there, tits clad with a very tight and uncomfortable sports bra, you gawked at his physique. He was crafted by the gods, muscles so defined and sharp. The broadness of his shoulders were twice, maybe even triple, the size of yours.

Reaching up to caress his gorgeous chest your hand accidentally slid over his nipple, making him let out a muffled moan. You wanted to make him moan like that more, you’d do anything to hear it again. Hands drifting to the line of hair that disappeared into his cargo pants, slipping even lower and caressing his bulge through the thick fabric. Your pupils dilated at the reactions he gave at every touch you gave him. He looked like a god so you wanted to worship him like one.

Standing up with shaky legs you pushed your pants that were hanging low on your hips down to your feet. Now standing only in your undergarments in front of him. He wasted no time in ridding himself of his own pants. Relieving some of the pressure on his hard, throbbing cock.

He was sporting a tent in his boxers, which was now very visible with the fabric of his thick pants gone. You just stared at it, you’ve been with men before but it’s been a while. He certainly was above average, a fact that matched the rest of his physique. You caressed your hands down his sculpted body, ghosting over his pecs down to the hem of his boxers. Wasting no more time you gently pulled the boxers down. He was uncut and leaking onto the fabric of his underpants, which made your mouth water. Everything about him was just painfully attractive, the sight of him sweating, legs spread with his cock out and head thrown slightly back to gaze at you was something you’d never forget.

“We have to be quick love, it’s already dawn”, Ghost said. His left hand gripping the base of his cock and the other gliding from your waist to your ass, gripping and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. Both of his hands were now working on pulling your underwear down your legs with desperation. You knew he needed you on him, around his cock as much as you needed him.

You wasted no more time and sat on his thighs, the air between you two heavy. Ghost gripped the base of his cock and rubbed the tip of him on your clit, before finally positioning it near the opening of your hole. His mouth was open, the man breathing heavily in anticipation.

“Love, ffffuck I need you. You still want me right?”, the arousal was dripping off of his words.

“Mhm, yes-yes please put it in me, I can’t wait any longer”,

His tip slid in slowly, you felt the muscles of your pussy accommodate him. The stretch brought a slight sting with it, you’re not used to fucking men with cocks as girthy and big as Simons. You moved your hips closer to Ghost’s, you felt the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be as close and connected with him as humanly possible. At your motions he let out a symphony of grunts and moans while squeezing your hips to contain his excitement, trying to hold himself back.

“Please don’t hold back, I need you to fuck me dumb- Simon please”, and the second your words processed in Simons brain he broke. Pulling you completely on his cock until he was balls deep inside you, hips angling upwards so that you’d somehow feel even fuller than before. Gripping his shoulder and nape you started your movements with him, hips moving in sync.

“Doll, you’re fucking made for me. Born to be my fuck toy, how -fuuckkk is it possible for you to feel this good?”, Ghost said with a strained voice. Hearing his words made your pussy clench even tighter around him, “Hah- you like that? Being mine?”, all you could do was whimper and moan pathetically in response.

Both of you wouldn’t last long, Simon was already nearing his climax after not even being 2 minutes inside of you. His masked face was pushed into your neck, making you feel the vibrations of his moans and his heavy breathing. Suddenly he let go of your hips and slid his hands under your sports bra you were still wearing, pulling the bra up to expose your chest. He positively groaned when he saw your perfect tits. Bouncing in sync with the rhythm, the cold air hardens your nipples even more.

“Ahhh- I can’t last any longer love, where do you want me?”,

“Don’t pull out- don’t stop”,

Your cockdrunk response triggered his orgasm, his thrusts getting slower and deeper to ensure you’re fucked full with his load. Feeling him throb so deeply inside you was fueling your own oncoming climax. You started riding him fast and deep in desperation. You grabbed his hand and started using his fingers to rub your clit, he loved seeing you get off with everything he had to offer.

Your hips got wilder and wilder, until finally your body shuddered. Gasping and moaning was all you could do, the orgasm seemingly never ending. The soothing motions of Simon caressing your back and him still circling your clit in slow circles helped you come back down to earth.

Now the only noises in the room were the heavy breathing of you both recovering. Your head falling down on Simon’s shoulders while he soothingly pet your hair, his softening cock still inside you. He kissed you long and soft, you felt him still breathing heavily out of his nose. Finally departing from the sweet kiss, he pulled you close. His face was in your hair. Giving you kisses on top of your head. “Thank you, love. I really needed this”, he whispered.

“I- it was my pleasure, Simon”, you said bashfully.

“My cock is inside you and you’re still this shy?”, Simon laughed. You couldn’t help but join in, all the chaos that took place only a couple hours before momentarily forgotten.

Simon felt truly at peace. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, nevermind this mind-numbingly powerful. After having a taste of you and all that you’ve made his cold heart feel, he wasn’t going to let you go easily. Not that you wanted him to anyways.. <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

this is my first fanfic! i'm european so i'm very sorry about my possible grammar mistakes :')) i also posted this on AO3 !

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luxcuriousao3 · 1 month ago

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Short update about the fics that are being worked on/scheduled :)

Btw guys I see all your very sweet anons (mostly ones about König but some others) and I love you for them 💜💜💜 Once I stop hyper focusing on this ghoap torture fic I will get around to answering them lmao. Hopefully we'll see some more not-so-creepy landlord!König (he still has oversee our new dishwasher being installed after all) and there are some more König prompts I've been mulling over. Although I do actually have a question about one of them, so to the person who asked about puppy!König and Oktoberfest--did you mean puppy like personality, puppy hybrid, or puppy play? I'm cool with all of them tbh

Also I appreciate all the renewed love for Mutt (Ghost's Version)! I think that's from finally posting it to AO3 lol. I do really like that piece as a character study--tbh a lot of my reader fics are just excuses to write character studies 😂--and it was fun for me to use all the knowledge I learned about OSDD during my hyperfixation on it from a few years ago to portray Simon/Ghost in it. I may come back to it someday, I'm unsure. Like I said I really love the idea, just haven't thought of any scenes really. Well I have but idk if they'd fit with the characterization. If anyone wants to know feel free to send asks, would love to hear y'all opinions.

Selfish/Cruel: I do plan to write more installments for this series. I just don't know when. Took a while for me to get out Cruel after Selfish so it might be awhile again. Some of y'all have suggested some great ideas and I'm chewing on them.

Price/Reader: working on chapter three. Very excited for this one. It's pretty low angst which is not something I've been historically good at but I think I'm doing a pretty good job pulling it off this time lol.

Unnamed Kyle/Reader fic: 638 words in. I haven't talked about this one much on here so I'm not gonna say anything else cuz spoilers

Leliaverse: Ah my beloved!!! Dove is on another small hiatus (whoops) but it's my magnum opus so y'all never have to worry about it being abandoned lmao. I've never worked so hard on a fic before. Mutter chapter 3 is still collecting dust in my drafts as I try to beat it into submission. But it's fighting back hard. Might just say fuck it and publish it as is lol. Johnny's Bird (which I have not actually posted to tumblr yet so only those who follow me on AO3 will know about) has a mostly written chapter 2 but I still need to figure out the exact direction of where I'm going, and if I'm going to make it short and turn it into just a Ghoap fic, or long and make it Ghoap/Lelia. My unnamed Hunger Games AU (which is König/Lelia/Ghost love triangle that will probably turn into polyamory, and hey, maybe I'll throw in Johnny for funsies, who the fuck knows, not me) which has not been published is up to one and half chapters. Idk if anyone is even interested in that one lmao. My unnamed Regency AU (surprise! It's Price/Lelia, bet you didn't expect that) is mostly plotted out but barely written. Don't think I've actually talked about that one on this blog yet, and idk if anyone would be interested in that either 🤷🏻‍♀️ Aaaand my dead-in-the-water Sleep Token!141 Ghost/Lelia fic exists only in snippets in my Google Docs but mostly in my dreams.

There are various other things I have in my drafts, a combo of Ghoap, Leliaverse, and xReader. If anyone is interested in them, feel free to ask.

(All non-COD related fics are on indefinite hiatus until I wear out this hyperfixation lol.)

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley cod #ghost x soap #ghoap #könig fanfiction #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #john price x reader #captain john price x you #kyle gaz garrick fic

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mermaidsirennikita · 8 days ago

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do you have any mmf recs where all there of them are in love with each other and in a relationship? not like a scenario where they're sharing the girl or she ends up with only one of them i would like books with a true poly relationship

Yes, but not a ton because I am in fact... very picky with regards to poly romance. I love it! Some of my literal all-time favorite books are poly romances. But in order to find one perfect poly romance, you've gotta read several trash books, and it's... hard.

Anyway, the gold standard for MMF romance is Sierra Simone. All of her poly books are true poly relationships in which everyone is in love with everyone. Beautifully written, insanely hot. To break it down:

Misadventures of a Curvy Girl. This is an early Sierra book, one of her tamest novels (not in terms of sex lol). It's MMF, everyone iS in love, but it's shorter, so the relationship dynamics are a little simpler. The heroine basically meets this guy while traveling and finds out that he and his bestie are also like... together... but prefer to be together with a third partner (a woman). Not in a "no homo" way, it's just the way their relationship dynamic works. It's cute, it's fun, it has very good plus size rep.

New Camelot: This is a completed trilogy, must be read in order, and its premise is essentially: What if King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot were the president, first lady, and vice president, and also they were all in love? (I do wonder how this series is going to read in our current political world for newcomers—but these books came out years ago, and for ME, the politics are essentially a vehicle for the Arthuriana; I get it is if that doesn't work for everyone else.) The series begins as a triangle—the heroine is being courted by the president~, and what he doesn't know is that she lost her virginity to his best friend/VP years ago. And still has feelings. She also doesn't know a lot of things, too.

It's very angsty, very kinky, and by the end of the first book you know this is a throuple—but they've gotta go through some shit.

Thornchapel: This is arguably her darkest work, essentially a lightly-magical series about a group of childhood friends who get together an accidentally open a door to another world. Through pagan orgies! Oops!

There are two romances, one of which is MMF and one of which is FF. Everyone fucks at some point, because orgies, but those are the two separate long-term relationships. The MMF romance is SUUUUPREEEEEEMELY angsty with a good dose of taboo, very kinky, but everyone is absolutely in love with everyone. It's great! Not for the faint of heart. But great!

Lyonesse: This is best read after New Camelot because they're set in the same space (one of the heroes of this series shows up in the NC trilogy) but it's a bit darker. It's another Arthurian retelling, this time taking on the legend of Tristan and Isolde, with Isolde's husband Mark thrown into the party... a bit more. Kinky, arranged marriage content involved, ongoing—the last book is out in September. I'm very confident that this will end up with everyone together. Would recommend beginning with Salt in the Wound, the prequel novella (it's a long novella and provides a lot of important character development, imo). This may end up being her best series, depends on how she sticks the landing... she usually does.but it hurts so good.

non-Sierra, you can try:

Give Me More by Sara Cate. This is a really good erotic romance, more character than plot. The heroes have been friends since childhood, the heroine is married to one of them—her husband thinks he's straight, and his internalized biphobia is part of the story. They end up going on a roadtrip where Things Change. It's pretty kinky, though not as much as a Sierra Simone novel. There's a lot of growing and changing and Feelings. And also a lot of sex.

Their Master by S.M. LaViolette. This is an erotic historical romance in which one of the heroes is this mysterious rich man with a Dark Backstory; the other is his valet/manservant or whatever, and they've been kind of like, no-strings fucking on and off for years. The valet is in love with him, and is kinda bummed when the master~ hires this sex worker to essentially bear his child. She has a Plan of her own, but she falls in love with the master over time... And then when her Plan is Revealed, it gives her an opportunity to get to know the servant guy better, which allows their feelings to blossom. This is a super kinky, really intense book (the backstory stuff is... dark) with complex relationships, and everyone DOES end up together in the end, I promise.

Not out yet, but—

Warrior Princess Assassin by Brigid Kemmerer. This is an upcoming fantasy romance (out 8/26, I think) in which the heroine is a princess betrothed to the warmongering king of a nearby nation, while clearly being in love with her childhood friend, who was forced to become an assassin. The assassin realizes there's a plot afoot, her future husband gets entangled in it, and there's a lot of LONGING and ENEMIES TO LOVERS, and the series is ongoing, but believe me—it's MMF.

Faster by Andie J. Christopher. Out in early September! There are three intersecting storylines (all romances) here, and they're all good. But my favorite one has the wife of an F1 driver walk in on him cheating on her (he's drunk and high, not an excuse but to be clear), and gets revenge by fucking his rival/former best friend. But her feelings for her husband aren't gone... and there might be more between those former besties than what meets the eye. It's been described as Challengers but if They Went There, and YEAH.... YEEEEEEAH....

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs #books

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londonspirit · 2 years ago

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Was there ever any doubt that Our Flag Means Death Season 2 wouldn't end in thrilling fashion after taking all of us on a rollercoaster of emotions? Probably not, but show creator David Jenkins and writer John Mahone, who teamed up on the script for the finale episode, seemed distinctly driven to squeeze as many tears out of us watching as possible. With the dynamic between Stede (Rhys Darby) and Ed (Taika Waititi) seemingly fractured as of the season's penultimate installment, it was unclear how — or if — the two men might eventually reconcile, but a new threat to the Republic of Pirates, alongside Ed's realization that maybe he isn't meant to be a fisherman after all, sends the two back into each other's arms, literally.

While some characters are afforded something resembling a happy ending, with Stede and Ed deciding to try their hand at being innkeepers as they watch the Revenge sail off into the sunset under Frenchie's (Joel Fry) command, not every single crew member emerges from the finale battle unscathed, chief among them Ed's first mate and formerly ruthless right-hand Izzy Hands (Con O'Neill), whose parting words to Ed may be the very thing that the former Blackbeard needs to hear in order to fully come to terms with accepting the man inside him all along.

Ahead of the Season 2 finale premiering on Max, Collider had the opportunity to reconnect with Jenkins to discuss some of the episode's biggest moments. Over the course of the interview, which you can read below, Jenkins explains why Izzy's speech is both a eulogy for the character and a statement about the show itself, how the Season 2 premiere and finale bookend each other with those beach scenes, and why he wanted to use that Nina Simone needle drop in particular. He also discusses why the season concludes with a wedding at sea, what the finale sets up for Season 3, and more.

COLLIDER: I feel like my first question, in a completely non-serious way, is: how dare you, and my immediate follow-up is: what gives you the right?

DAVID JENKINS: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Also, I am God to these creatures! But it was hard. It was a hard decision.

The episode kicks off with a somewhat more lighthearted moment, which is Ed realizing he's not cut out for the fishing life after all. On the heels of Stede and Ed’s big fight in the episode prior, why did it feel important to have Ed humorously have the revelation of, “This isn't what I really want after all?”

JENKINS: Well, I like the idea that Season 1 is about Stede’s midlife crisis, and Season 2 is about Ed's midlife crisis. I like that he had a little prima donna moment where he thought he could go and be a simple man, and then it's revealed that he really isn't a simple man; he’s a complicated, fussy, moody guy. No, he's not gonna be able to catch fish for a living. For him to be told that, “At your heart, you're a pirate. You have to go back and do it,” he doesn't want that to be true, but it was true.

Speaking of characters that have a revelation about themselves, Izzy's speech about piracy, about belonging to something and finding family, feels like the thesis statement of this show. Was that the intention behind it?

JENKINS: When I wrote that, I wanted to give Izzy a proper eulogy for himself. He gives a eulogy for himself, but it felt true writing it. Yeah, this is how he sees piracy, and also that's not how he would have viewed piracy in the first season. He would have viewed it as, “I'm here to dominate you, so you work for the boss.” By the end of his journey in the second season, he sees that they built him a unicorn leg, he learned to whittle, and he mentored Stede. He's learned that, actually, a pirate crew works differently than what he thought and that they are all in it together, and they do this for each other. So it felt right for Izzy’s arc, and it is kind of an overall statement about the show.

It's interesting that you call it a eulogy, because, by the time we get to the scene where we know Izzy's not going to make it, it feels like he's using his last moments for Ed more than himself. He has those final words to Ed of, “They love you for who you are. Just be Ed.” Is that the kind of the thing that Ed needs to hear in the moment — even as he's losing, arguably, someone he's known even longer than Stede and is just as close to on an emotional level?

JENKINS: Well, I like that Izzy gives that to him, and then Izzy also apologizes to him because he says that he fed his darkness and that they were both Blackbeard together — that Blackbeard wasn't just Ed, that they did it together. In a way, it's very much for Ed, that speech. The “we were Blackbeard” is claiming that he is also Blackbeard, that Blackbeard is not just Ed’s creation, and I like that for him, too, because he's worked so hard for that — and then just to say, “You can give it up.” There can never be a Blackbeard again as far as Izzy’s concerned because he's dying, and they did that together.

I wanted to ask you about the Stede/Ed reunion. We get Ed finding Stede's love letter that was written all the way at the beginning, and then also the beach fight/reunion. It's definitely a callback to the dream, but was that always the way that you wanted to bookend the season? Here's the dream and the fantasy, and then this is the real moment that we get to have?

JENKINS: It was nice. I knew that I wanted to have the Republic of Pirates at the beginning and end up with the Republic of Pirates. I think the reunion of it was a nice surprise, but it felt right. And finding the letter in a bottle — if you have a letter in a bottle, it's thrown out somewhere, it has to pop up somewhere, you have to see one of them at some point. But yeah, there's a circular nature to it, and that's why I thought it would be good to use Nina Simone at the beginning and at the end as a callback. This dream in this way did come true, and they made it come true.

When I talked to you at the beginning of the season, you mentioned the Nina Simone needle drop, but couldn't say anything about the significance of it at the time. I talked to [music supervisor] Maggie [Phillips], as well, about the needle drops throughout Season 2, and she said you always had a very clear vision for what song you wanted there. A lot of people know the original, but why did you pick Nina's cover? It strikes a different tone; there's a hopefulness to it in a lot of ways.

JENKINS: Yeah, it's wistful. There's a lovely part that sounds like church bells, which is great for the wedding part of it, and then it's just moving. I love her interpretation of it. It’s wistful, positive, and it felt like the end of the show to me. There's a size to it that, up against these images, I just was like, "Yeah, this would be really good. I want this to be in the show."

I did want to ask you about the wedding because on the heels of Izzy's death, it's bittersweet, but also, it's a sign this crew has become a family, and they can still find happy moments and reasons to celebrate. We’ve seen Black Pete and Lucius reconnect, but also reconcile and navigate through Lucius's problems and have their own, almost parallel trajectory journey as a couple alongside Stede and Ed in a way. Was that something that you always wanted to close the season on, the two of them getting hitched?

JENKINS: Yeah. We knew we wanted a matelotage in the season, which is the real term they had for marrying crew members. And yeah, they've always been in relief to Stede and Ed, and they're a little bit ahead of Stede and Ed in how much they can talk about things. So to have a bunch of family things in the season, like a funeral and a wedding, and have the parents kind of watch the kids sail away, felt right, and all of those things seem to work well together and build on each other.

Speaking of Ed and Stede watching everybody sail off, that was an outcome that was somewhat surprising, I think because where they are, you think maybe they're going to end up sailing off with everybody else.” But no, instead, it's just this sweet, lovely note of them getting to play house for a little while. What inspired that turn for them?

JENKINS: I think that they've come to the point in the relationship where they say, “Yeah, we're gonna give this a try,” and that's where the story really gets interesting. That will-they-or-won't-they is interesting to a point, but the real meat of it is always like, “Can they make the relationship, and can they do better than Anne and Mary?” That's the question that we all ask ourselves when we end up in a serious relationship is: can we make this work, and can we get through the hard times? Then they're both very damaged, and it's gonna be a challenge for them, and that's where the story gets interesting.

I'm not sure you can really tease much for a Season 3, but we talked before about how you have your vision for where you want to take this, and based on what we see at the end of Season 2, the implication is that we're going to have Stede and Ed off together, but is the plan to also continue with the other characters as well in their own places?

JENKINS: Yeah. Frenchie’s in charge of the Revenge, and I think Frenchie's Revenge would be an interesting place to work and an interesting ship to be raided by. Then I think that the Revenge means a lot to Stede, and it would be very hard for him to give it up, and he hasn't had a great track record of that. So I think the odds of them all finding each other again are quite high.

All episodes of Our Flag Means Death Season 2 are available to stream on Max.

#our flag means death season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #spoiler #our flag means death #ofmd #david jenkins #interview #collider article

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fictionalslvr · 2 years ago

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Part one. Part two.

SYNOPSIS: "Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. He can't understand why you're so kind to him, and thinks he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't have no one to celebrate Christmas.

PAIRING: Neighbor¡Simon x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.045k

WARNINGS: fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) ect.

NOTES: This is the last part of this mini serie, sobs sobs. I hope you guys enjoyed until now 🫶🩵 (for some reason my tumblr bugs and won't let me make some phrases bold, ignore that.)

And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.

PREVIOUS PART

❝How can you miss someone you've never met?❞

Simon is a stubborn man. He is used to believing that maintaining distance would keep people safe from him, and this is not very polite of him. Sometimes, he would even be rough without noticing, making someone he cares for upset. It could or not, be his choice to do so. He did this a lot to his team, thinking that this would keep them safe, away from him, like killing two birds with one stone., keeping his past hidden, and not losing anyone as well. It’s hard not to get attached to someone, he can’t really control that, and when he realizes, he’s suddenly more cold than before, afraid that he will lose everything once more. Only he would understand the pain he felt, the knot on his guts when he saw his family vanishing from his hands, everything he fought for in years, going away in a blink of an eye, he surely doesn’t want to feel those sensations again. Guilty, vulnerable and useless, he really felt like this back then, trying even to make some therapy wouldn’t help, he found it nonsense, would only make his anger issues harder. As for now, he’s not that melancholic about it, trying to live his life after years of that, it already happened, he can’t change this. Even killing the one who did this to his family wouldn’t be one hundred percent enough, but for a long while, kept his mind thinking that he did justice with his own hands, and this was good for a moment. When Simon left only for himself, Ghost appeared, embracing his old identity for a new living he would start. It was very spontaneous, he suddenly took charge of his life for his own good, and Simon let it be like a second identity. They’re actually the same, but he likes to think that Ghost is a better version of himself, that is stronger and braver. He took all his fears and used them as a strength, became a new one, that he would only let it slip alone or outside the job. For a moment, he thought he would lose himself that way, until he found a in between line of being Ghost and Simon, he would live happily on that tightrope, finding some balance on top of it, slipping his feet sometimes, but never falling completely.

He takes a lot of pain for himself, and crying is something he never thought of doing. He passed through a lot, a lot that took his ability to cry. He would feel his heart ache, his lips drying and his heartbeat increasing…for not even a single drop of tear left his eyes. It was like he had no emotions at all, but from inside, he was cracked up, like a porcelain vase being glued all together again and again, for years. Usually, when he’s sad, he would stare at the wall or the ceiling, forgetting everything around him to think too much, alone, for himself only. Or, he would just stare, blankly, not a single thought on his mind. That’s when he got the habit of smoking, feeling the smoke filling his lungs would keep him distracted from the bad feelings. When he takes shots of whiskey, he’s very bad, and needs something stronger to bury his soul. He’s actually afraid on the back of his mind, afraid that he would end up addicted, so he truly drinks only a few times, but making sure he would knock out and wake up regurgitating all the liquid, the emptiness on his stomach would start to ache, and the hangover was a reminder that he wouldn’t forget everything so easily.

If there's one thing he didn’t like were commemorative dates, especially Christmas. In those days, he would try his best to not leave his home, but either way, he couldn’t escape the families nearby, all laughing and enjoying moments together. Those damn nights, he would sit on his table, a glass of whiskey in hands, all alone, and looking at the windows gave him the sight of a big family, around the table celebrating the food or kids opening gifts. Once, he tried to close the windows, like a grumpy older man that doesn't like to see happy people. That didn’t help a single bit, living in an apartment complex and those thin walls…he could hear some chatter anyways. The problem was not them, nor was the date itself, it was him. He knows that this way, he would look like Grinch himself, hating Christmas. He doesn't truly hate, he just didn’t like how it reminded him of the past, how a great time turned to a tragedy in his life. And hearing the little kids opening the gifts would make his face melt in sorrow, he always had a soft spot for children, ever since he had a nephew, he stills remember how happy the kid was with his gift.

—"Uncle, you really gave me the scooter that I asked for?” — The little boy giggled. Excited for the unwrapped gift in his hands, Simon nodded with his head, in silence, but with a big grin on his face.

—”Now, now. What do we say to him?” — His lovely mother caressed his back, reminding him to be grateful for the gift.

—”Thanks uncle Simon! You’re the best!”

He never used it. Never had the time to play with his new gift. His voice is still so fresh in Simon's memories, that each time the Christmas is close, he can hear his voice in his mind. The little boy's eyes would sparkle up, the fireplace making everything nice and comfy. When he blinks his eyes, he can see where he is now, a cold place, all alone.

It’s been a long time, and he’s avoiding you. The head nods turned into his eyes turning away from yours, the soft chuckles once in a while turned into silence, and not even the hand wave would be present. Of course, you would keep your life, going to work, coming back, having the little cat nearby and her purrs calming you down, drinking coffee in the mornings and reminding of…him. Simon’s stubborn, you told him that being cold won’t make you leave, but he suddenly became more distant than before, and this was a pain you would have to carry. He’s not an easy person to deal with, that’s obvious, the closer you get, the more he pushes you away. That would cause you shame, shame for being ignored in the hallways, shame for being stupid for a friendship that never quite existed. At first, you thought it was your imagination, that he was only in a bad mood. But when you knock on his door and he doesn’t open, even if you heard his footsteps, then you’re sure he’s ignoring you. His mind is playing with his sanity, he can’t keep seeing you and not getting even more attached, so the only option he had was to ignore you, and pretend that they never met. Simon felt awful doing that, you were the only one with the courage to speak to him, and that’s how he returns the good act? He is always that ignorant.

As Christmas gets close, he wonders if your family is coming to your house, and this year, he would listen to you, giggling with your family on a full table, decorations all over the place, and the mix of red and green starts to bother him. When the day finally comes…silence at the apartment above, that’s weird, he surely saw the pictures you had with your family. The curiosity is eating him alive, trying the best to disguise it. It’s hard to see your excited figure wave at him, and ignores completely. On the night of Christmas Eve, he was walking on the hallways, making his way back to his home after a meeting for job, and luckily or not, he ends up on the same elevator as you, the tense atmosphere when his hand is in between the metal, almost losing it, he enters it quickly, now giving the chance to the heavy doors close. When Simon lays his back against the cold metal, he sees you, winter clothes and a scarf, it’s so cold that you’re nuzzling your nose to the fabric, in an attempt to warm you up. The silence is weird, you don’t even look at his face, and there’s nothing on your hands, making clear that you’re not putting decorations for today. Simon clears his throat, he wants you to talk to him, how ironic after all these weeks ignoring you. Weirdly putting his hands on his pockets.

—”So…no preparations for today?” — His cold voice suddenly rings your attention. You shake your head slightly and lift your chin to meet his eyes, his face, as you’re used to being hidden by that balaclava. It’s weird to see him starting a dialogue after all this time being ignored, you lift an eyebrow before answering.

—”Just me. As always.” — For the first time, your voice sounds painful. He wants to ask why, but doesn’t deserve an answer after being a jerk with you. —”M’sorry for…avoiding you.”

He just asked for an apology? Seems like he had a big time thinking after weeks alone, and the past caught him by the feet, dragging him to that pit of regret. Simon looks away, not wanting to see your eyes after doing something so weird like apologizing.

—”That’s okay.” — No more words were needed, his face turned to see yours, and when your lips curled up in a smile, his shoulders felt a lot more light. The metal door creaks open, interrupting Simon to say more with that loud rusty noise.

—”Do you…want a coffee?”

—”Of course.”

Being here is all he needed after this long and sufferable week. The cozy air in your home would bring him immeasurable peace.Simon watches as you take off the scarf around your neck and pulls a chair for him.

—”Feel comfortable.” — You mumbled with a soft grin. He sits there immediately, watching the surroundings of your home once more, like he’s remembering how it was the last time he was here. But nothing changed. No artificial trees or Christmas stocking, nor fairy lights. Not even a single detail about this special date.

—”You don’t celebrate?” — He asked weirdly, while your back was turned to him, taking the pot of coffee, as you turned your body to face him, a confused expression meet him.

—”What? Christmas?”

—”Yeah. Is it…religion?”

—”Oh no, i just don’t have anyone to celebrate with.” — Simon nods, not daring to ask a single question more.

You lift up the sleeve of your shirt, pouring the coffee in the cups, and he keeps an eye on you, finally noticing a big burn scar all over your arm. Behind that mask, his lips parted, surprised with something about you he never saw before. Someone happy as you, had lost your family too.

—”How did you…” — He points to the burn scar, not directly mentioning it. You chuckles softly at his description on that matter.

—”I survived an accident. Was just me and my sister.”

—”So why isn’t she here now?”

—”She lives in another state, can’t come to celebrate it.” — As the steam flows out of the cups, Simon gets himself in a chokehold. He sure doesn't have a lot of manners, but the way you treated an accident was way different from his. You sit on the chair beside him, putting the pout of coffee down on the table.

—”My condolences for your family.”

—”There’s no need for that, I'm sure they’re resting now. It’s been a long time since it happened.”

—”Can i…touch your scar?”

—”Sure.” — This new discovery took all of his attention, he didn’t care about the coffee anymore. You offer him your arm, lifting up the sleeve to your shoulders.

Simon was completely mesmerized by it, such a big scar that starts on your fingertips, to your shoulders. His thumb gently presses it, with such tenderness that you looked like it could break at any moment. Slowly, his thumb moves along your hand, traveling to your arm and feeling the texture of it, that gentle movement along your arm, feeling every fiber of you as a new thing. He never asked for this before, and having him so focused on you it’s great. His eyes follow his trails, going all the way to your shoulders and making you shiver gently. This scar, just as the many that he has, was an act of bravery of yours, a sign that you’re still here, in this mediocre world. He always looked at his scars with disgust, thought that would make him feel ugly, but seeing yours…he felt connected to you. He was understanding himself with your story, your life on the press of his thumbs.

—”They look painful.”

—”It was. Had a lot of trouble taking care of it alone.”

—”That’s…so admirable.” — You knew how lucky you were to be alive from that accident, the doctors told you that you managed to escape from the toxic smoke, being burned and are still alive. But you never thought that he would find something like this admirable.

—”You really think so?”

—”Yeah, I'm being honest, it’s pretty…” — His hands move along your arm one last time, before letting you go. Letting that sensation go away.

—”Well, thanks then.”

—”Just telling the truth. I have a lot of scars as well, I understand you.” — For the first time, he shares something about himself, without you asking for it. That lights up all your face as you pull your sleeve back down.

—”Really? How many?”

—”I don’t know…I never count them. Have you ever counted how many moles you have?”

—”Course not, it’s too many.”

—”That’s why I never count my scars.” — His words make your breath hitch for a moment, you sigh heavily before looking away. The coffee in the cups is starting to cool down.

—”Where are your scars?”

—”All over it, almost. Face, chest, abdomen…ribs.” — He takes his own moment on the last word, like it's something that really matters for him.

—”I can’t imagine what you passed through.”

—”Don’t even try, you won’t guess correctly.” — Simon exhales deeply, looking down to the now cold coffee. The silence creeps once more, and you just have to ask.

—”I’ve been wanting to ask…why have you ignored me all these weeks?”

—”I was scared.”

—”Scared?”

—”Yeah, I have fears as well.” — He shrugs and that makes you chuckle softly

—”I know this. I’m asking...fear of what?” — Simon stays silent for a while, reluctantly answering —”Fear that you came to stay.”

His words are confused, sometimes look like he’s talking to himself. That makes you tilt your head a little, looking at his almond shaped eyes running from yours.

—”I’m not used to people like you. That doesn’t run away from me, or leave at the first talk.”

—”Well…?”

—”I realized that I can't run away from you anymore.” — These words, is like he’s been feeling what you felt as well, since you first encountered him, the way that he had an amount of power over you, that made you become more and more curious about him. Seems like he is finally opening up about his feelings.

—”I want you to know…to know me properly.”

—”So…no more ignoring?”

—”No more ignoring. Just the real Simon.” — His eyes meet yours, and even behind the mask, you can sense a smile out of him, from the way his eyes squint. —”But promise me something.”

—”What is it?”

—”That you won’t leave me after knowing the truth.” — Your face brightens, and you nod with your head at him.

—”Okay, I promise you, Simon.”

—”Thank you, [name].” — With that, Simon hands wander over his mask, and he takes it off completely, giving you the vision of…his face.

He’s just as handsome as you thought. Bushy eyebrows now visible, his short blond hair a bit messy, that jawline making his face more than memorable. And besides all of that, scars. One big one at the side of his lips, another one on his eyes. He looks away like a flustered little child, scratching the back of his neck and your eyes almost close for smiling too much. You giggle softly with the sight, a giggle that tells him ‘is okay’, that makes him feel safe again to look you in the eyes. He becomes lost in that sight, your face melting with smiles, so happy to finally know him truly, that he’s finally opening up for you, that he smiles too, a soft little smile. Only he knows how much he wanted this, to be real with you, to show himself, and that you would continue to look at him with that grin on your face.

—”It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”

The comfort of your voice is all he needed at this moment. The way your voice brings him peace. That ache of his heart finally leaving, knowing that he won’t lose you anytime soon. That you’re here, with him. Both heartbeats increase, silly smiles all over, maybe it’s the Christmas spirit making everything more cozy. Or maybe it’s because one needs another to understand…that not everything can be solved, but that things can stay in the past, not be forgotten.

—”Can we…spend this Christmas together?” — He knows that is safe, that he won’t lose you to those cruel people who killed his family. That for the first time, he can have a normal Christmas. You only nod your head gently, a brief answer that he needs.

To make everything more comfortable, your little cat appears, climbing Simon’s lap and staying there lazily.

—”Sorry for her…”

—”Oh hello little one, we meet again…” — Simon mumbles, looking down at the little feline, his hands caressing her fur gently. Even without the mask, she could recognize him. The view makes your heart flutter.

—”Again?” — You ask in between chuckles. It was indeed, adorable to see this.

—”I met her when you slept on the couch, she was all over me.”

—”She’s a clever little kitten.”

When you say that, a relieved exhale leaves your lips. From now on, you’ll be able to meet the real Simon, and the idea of having him close, it’s not a problem for you.

Tag list (hope i didn't forget anyone):

@linoskitten11

@pepsicolacoochie

@silas-222

@maeplayscello

@ysljoon

@fandomsinthegalaxies

@corvusmorte

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost #fluffy #angst #angst with a happy ending #light angst

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