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defluw · 11 months ago

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OMG, It's fucking awesome 😳

Situationship with Simon Riley

• Simon ‘ghost’ Riley x reader

• Headcanons 18+

• Tags (Smut, fluff, jealousy, lousy communication, more mushy stuff near the end, arguments, head cannons)

Wordcount? Long.

Ghost doesn't want a relationship. He just isn't built for it; at least, that's what he believes. He's meant to work, and that's about it, and when you're as devoted to your job as he is, there isn't much else he can focus on either. He craves the strict military schedule that gives him a sense of comfort. It's not like he's against the idea of being with a woman altogether; no, he's pretty fond of getting some release from time to time. But it's nothing more than that, a hookup with no strings attached. Ghost also ensures there is no cross between his work and outside distractions. Call it a rule for him: no distractions, no mess-ups. No strings attached? No hard feelings when he leaves. And that's relatively easy when he's bouncing from place to place due to his work. Well, it was easy until you.

Ghost broke rule number one first; that was his first mistake. Not only were you a co-worker of the sort, but you were a huge liability. For him, that is. You'd sauntered into taskforce 141 with high hopes, a dream, and ambitions. You had a life outside work, a family, and civilian friends. You were also polar opposites; you were chatty. A near-constant stream of conversation flowed through you like a broken damn. In his opinion, you were also quite spunky; you loved to tease and play like everything was a game. He found you to be irritating at best, an irritating distraction.

You'd tried to figure him out or what was left of him. And he'd push you away every time; normally, a glare would work to shut you up. However, you managed to catch on and keep trying. Eventually, he got accustomed to it—your questions and conversation and how they'd fill the quiet room. Though he was never one for conversations, you pulled the occasional sentence or two out of him. But he always kept a safe distance from you. But the universe had other plans. During an operation, the two of you had to wedge yourselves between a wall and a shipping container. Usually, this wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the fact that the both of you were pressed against each other chest to chest with your thigh pressing against his crotch. Ghost doesn't get boners often, yet he did that one time. And you'd felt it pressed against you. He knew you did, how your body tensed, and you swallowed, trying your best not to look him in the eye. He wasn't better off; his mind whipped entirely from the mission. It wasn't your fault, but it felt like it. Safe to say, after the op was done, both of you kept a safe distance from then on.

The distance didn't last long; Ghost wished it did, though. Not only was it embarrassing for him to recount, but it made him question the way he viewed you. More specifically, the way he found that these “fluke” boners started to happen more frequently when you were in the room. He tried to ignore it; he did. It was immoral of him to fist his cock to the idea of you. But after a week or two, he gave in. It fixed his temperament, but it brought on another problem, which was the fact that he had to look you in the eyes every day and talk to you like he didn't just wake up that morning to the thought of splitting you open on his dick. This pushed him past breaking his first rule because not only was the distraction always near him, but it was his fault in the first place. He dug his grave and had to lie in the aftermath of what it caused—like staring at a beautiful animal in a cage, forced to look and never touch it for fear it might bite.

But this didn't last long either; it all came to a head when the task force went to a pub to celebrate a recent success. You'd gotten drunk off your ass after playing a drinking game with Garrick. Only to stumble your way out back to find Ghost smoking a cig. The two of you engaged in conversation, more like you were asking drunken questions, and he did his best to understand. Then you started to go down memory lane, recalling past instances with a giggle and a smile.

╰┈➤

“You’re fuckin’ drunk off your ass, Sarg; I can barely understand a word you're sayin’.” You paid no mind as you continued, “Remember that time we had to hide in between that shipping container?”

Ghost visibly tensed, feeling himself silently cringe inside. He nodded and blew out smoke, letting you continue. “I actually think about that time a lot.” You murmur; he raised his eyebrow, looking down at you disgruntled.

“Why’s that?” You squirmed a little, your cheeks reddening. “Dunno, we were just like really close. You know?” You told him, looking up at him. Ghost chuckled and put out his cigarette, “Sure, kid, I know.”

You stared at him, your eyes large, almost memorizing his features—the ones you could see, of course. You were pursing your lips together as you started up at him. He shifted under your gaze, “Don't look g’me that look.” He breathed. You blinked.

“What look?”

Ghost's eyes narrowed, and he leaned down a little, letting his gloved hand brush the side of your cheek. Sending waves of electricity down your spine. “That look.” He murmured, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen. You swallowed, whether it was from the alcohol or the fact that he was so close you felt your body heat rising.

“Why not?” You asked; his eyes flickered down to your lips and then back to your eyes. “It'll get me into trouble.” He stated. Your stomach lurched a little; your mind was too hazy to think as your hand reached up to his face and slowly slid his mask up.

Ghost didn't move, letting you do whatever you wanted with him. Your fingers grazed along his jaw, the smell of cigarettes and his musk clotting your senses in a way that made you feel dizzy. His hands started to snake around your back, pulling you into his chest. Like a primal need to feel you against his body, you looked up at him. “Will one time get you in trouble?” You asked.

“S’long as it stays between us.” He murmurs, his voice husky. Ghost fingers dug into your back, almost like a last attempt to warn you away. But you only closed the gap between you. Pulling him into your lips, letting out a sigh as he's finally in your grasp.

╰┈➤

Ghost broke rule one; he let you in and selfishly didn't push you away like he should have. Because it was meant to be only one time, yet it wasn't. Because God, you were just hard to stay away from. His time outside of thinking about work was devoted to you; you ran through his mind as if you belonged there. His hunger for you was insatiable; those fantasies weren't just that anymore; he felt the real you, and he couldn't let it go. Ghost knew it couldn't last long; it wasn't meant to, but he pushed those thoughts aside. And that wasn't exactly hard when you were doing the same thing. Once you had him, it was like a switch flipped. You made his life a living hell. He was in a debriefing? Oh, you were there, playing footsie underneath the table, trailing your foot higher and higher until his large hand swatted at your foot like a fly. He was trying to get paperwork done? You were underneath the desk, blowing him off. He was on guard? You were on the radio teasing him and moaning into the receiver while nobody else was on the line.

Ghost loved every second of it; it was both adrenaline-inducing and pleasurable. Every time he fucked you in a closet with his large hand covering your mouth. Every time, you snuck into his barrack and left unable to walk properly. Every time the task force would go to a bar or a pub, he'd give you a look, a look that meant, ‘If you don't walk into that bathroom right now, I'm carrying you myself.’ You were like a damn drug that he couldn't get enough of. He tried to quit you; he did. But every time, he thought about what would ensue when you were gone. It didn't sit right with him; the thought of not having you under him, around him, with him in general. Because you weren't a nameless girl, you had such a personality, a way with him that nobody else did.

But you weren't special, that's what he told himself. You didn't belong to him, and neither did he. It was just sex without feelings, no strings attached. He broke his first rule, but he wasn't about to break the second. He couldn't get attached to you; not only were the both of you in a dangerous line of work, but you worked together. It wasn't appropriate, nor was it safe for him to get attached to you. He wasn't capable of love; he couldn't do it. It would end in disaster; he had too much baggage, too much he had done, and too much he would do if someone he loved got torn away. He knew it was wrong. He shouldn't have done it in the first place; he knew the first kiss would lead to more, but he welcomed it. Ghost welcomed you to fill the hollowness in his body that ate at his mind, and he welcomed you to warm his bedside with it.

╰┈➤

“Ghost, you in there?”

It took a beat of silence before you heard the knob of the Barrack door turn, and the door swung open. And there he was, standing before you with his familiar gaze. You grinned, looking up at him unphased. “Hey, big guy, cap told me you got the day off.”

He grunted, “S’pose so. Don’t know why you’re here love. If I remember you’re still s’posed to be working.” His barracks were empty; nobody was inside due to the time of day. Meaning you easily snuck into his room while he was in MedBay without notice. You nodded, “Any reason why?” You asked.

It was his turn to nod now, and he took his hand off the doorknob and held it out for you to see. It was bandaged up; his darkened, muddled tatooes starkly contrasted with the clean cloth around his hand. You raised an eyebrow at his silent display.

“Didn't know they gave out off days for paper cuts.” That earned a chuckle out of him. “Soap was fuckin’ around with a knife and got me in the hand. All I had to hear was, ‘Aye, Ghost catch,’ the bloke doesn't know when to quit.”

You could only grin at the story, knowing full well that Ghost would be perfectly fine. He'd been through much worse and survived. You hummed, “Ah, well, I was just in to check on you.” Ghost leaned on one hip and stared down at you with amusement, his hand propped up on the door. “Thought you'd drop by one way or another.” He mused.

He was a cocky bastard, but he knew you like the back of his hand. You breathed and rolled your eyes, a smile tugging up at the corner of your lips. “Well, you're in good condition; I think my job is done here.”

You turned on your heel, trying to make a quick escape before he inevitably lured you back into his grasp. But you weren't quick enough; a few brisk steps in, and you already felt his two large hands halt you in your tracks. His fingers squeeze your waist. “Fuck do you think you're goin’?” He asked. You felt your heart pick up again; a smile spread across your lips that he couldn't see. “Work,” you said curtly.

He pulled you back into his chest, your breath hitching as you felt his stiffy pressed against your ass. “I’m not letting you out of my sight that bloody easy, ‘sides; I got another problem you need to check up on.” you could almost feel his grin.

“Is that an order?” You questioned, tilting your head back against his chest to look up at him. Your neck craned to meet his gaze; he nodded, moving a hand to grip your jaw. “Aye.”

╰┈➤

Ghost didn't get jealous; he just didn't. He knew you were your own person, and he didn't care what you did outside of your time spent together. You didn't belong to him, and neither did he. Your little meetings were just a way to blow off steam, no strings attached. Friends with benefits, you liked to say. He didn't care. He knew you'd come back to him because he knew nobody could give you what you wanted like himself. Other people didn't know what to do with a body as perfect as yours; they didn't know how you liked to be fucked. How you liked it when he whispered in the nape of your neck everything he had planned to do with you. They couldn't match up to him. Yet when he visioned you with another person, his body went rigid, and his hands bawled up into fists. He often found himself patrolling your waking hours, who you spent time with, who you talked to, and especially who oggled you like a lovesick puppy. But he wasn't jealous. It was just a precaution, keeping the people around you in line. Until it wasn’t.

It started to draw attention when Ghost began to appear next to you. If you were somewhere, he was in the same place, whether that be from a distance or not. You didn't notice it quickly, but Jhonny did. That's when the comments started; it started light: “Got him on a short leash, don't ya’ lass.” in passing, “Can't get rid of ‘em, can ya’? Like a boggin’ stain.” It was all in good fun, but it became too frequent, and even Price started to chip in the occasional comment. You began to raise an eyebrow at his presence as well. While you didn't mind his lingering, you began to worry about the fact the two of you were drawing attention. And when you brought it up with Ghost, he brushed it off, “Just a coincidence [name], don't go thinking this is something it's not.” While that worked to shut you up, it did tick you off. After all, it wasn't his place to reprimand you for something that was his fault.

The dynamic between the both of you changed after that. Ghost became more touchy, and what was then a pat on the back or maybe a tap on the shoulder became lingering hands pressed against the small of your back in broad daylight. It was like he was sending a message to everyone, a warning. Things also changed behind closed doors; Ghost liked things fast. He liked it hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but just enough to leave you sore. But he started to change; his usual rough and fast thrusts turned into drawn-out and languid. A new addition was also the number of hickeys and bite marks he left. Before, it was only one or two, only left in easily hidden places. But now your neck was peppered with red and purple marks, and your thighs and legs were littered with garish teeth marks. You always gave him shit about it, but he didn't care. Often, your anger was met with a shrug and a “Won't hurt for a few of 'em to show; they look nice on you.”

╰┈➤

Your fingers curled into the fabric of sheets lining the bed—a low pain burning in your back and in between your thighs. Your eyes groggily opened, trying to make out the blur of your surroundings. The bed felt warm but disheveled, the blankets atop you thrown around.

You slowly sat up, trying not to cause any unnecessary pain, stretching your arms above your head. Your eyes adjusted a little, taking in the room. You looked down at what you expected was an empty side of the bed, yet it wasn't.

Ghost. He usually left right after the two of you were finished, or he'd get up at night and make his leave. But here he was, his back facing you, the blanket over him only partially covering his sleeping body. It was a new feeling waking up to him in your bed. Some part of you wanted to go back to sleep, cuddle up to him, and wrap your hands around him like a koala bear.

The other part of you wanted to leave, to retreat to your bathroom and hide out until he left. You knew how strict he was with this; there were no attachments. That included romantic acts outside of just sex. But with the way he’d been acting recently, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to just lay back down with him.

You gently laid back down on your side, facing his back. Watching the way his muscles expanded with each breath he took. Slowly, you reached out and gently ran your nails along his bare skin. Trailing up and down the expanse of his back. You trailed your hand to the nape of his neck, scratching at his hair.

His body tensed for a moment; then it fell back limp—a low, incoherent murmur vibrating through him. Guess he was a light sleeper.

You felt your lip curve into a soft smile, enamored with his groggy state. You threaded your fingers through his short blonde hair, languidly massaging at his scalp. This earned another soft grunt from Ghost. It was endearing, almost, “Thought you'd be gone by now.” You murmured.

It was silent for a moment; just the sound of your mixed breathing echoed across the shell of your ear. Ghost grunted a little, the deep sound slowly beginning to register as words. “M’not leaving…just can't seem to fuckin’ stay away from you.”

That caught you off guard; you did a double-take, a conflicted eyebrow-raising. “Yeah? Why not?” Your voice dripping with skepticism, all you got in return was a grunt and his face burying further into the pillow.

“…Dunno, but I was bloody mad that I ever thought I could.”

╰┈➤

Ghost broke rule two; it crept up on him like how fall fades to winter. Slow in the process, yet sudden. He was blind to the way his thoughts seemed to mesh around you. Blind to the way almost every time you were in a room, his eyes and attention never left you. He was blind to the way he resented anyone who held your interest, and even more so, he was blind to the way he resented himself for not doing more. Ghost realized he was in deep water; he was drowning and hadn't even realized until too late. You had him like putty in your hands; you had Simon in your hands. Simon didn't want you to know him as Ghost, not when he had more to offer you. Ghost wasn't built for a relationship, but maybe Simon was. Simon was the one who nudged your shoulder with his on ops when he could tell you were getting anxious. He was the one who would hold you after sex, cleaning you up and making sure you were alright. Simon was the one who would crack small jokes to you late at night when you wouldn't go to sleep. And Simon was the one who would pay the price when he eventually had to leave.

“Y’know we can't keep this up forever; the longer it goes on, the more reasons we shouldn't do what we're doin’.” You and Ghost often talked about things like this; rather…he brought it up, and you agreed. It had become a hot topic between you two, whispers of “We really shouldn't be doing this.” or “It's gonna end soon, so let's just enjoy it.” both of you agreed that it was a bad idea, and a worse decision to keep it up for as long as you both had. Yet the both of you never seemed to do anything about it. You'd found yourself craving him while he was away, missing his voice and presence. And things were starting to get so nice, too, like a honeymoon phase that couples experience. Neither of you wanted it to end. It began to get real when you physically couldn't think of a life without him to warm your bed. Not being next to or around him felt more abnormal than keeping away. Professionalism was a struggle, to say the least.

Both you and Ghost were in the same boat without realizing it. There were always no strings attached until there wasn't. Until your body was tangled between threads, you couldn't go anywhere without feeling the pull. It got to the point where the team was starting to catch on. They saw the lingering touches, the stares, the convenient dissaperences. Most of 141 didn't comment on it, but you knew they knew something was up. There was the occasional snicker or teasing jab, most of the time directed at you. It bothered you more that they were justified in their teasing rather than the actual comments themselves. However, Ghost did make good on his promise that your predicament with him never bled into your missions. He kept his cool; he was a different person on the field. Then again, so were you, you both understood that this was the one thing you couldn’t fuck up. But you did.

╰┈➤

Your eyes squinted against the harsh fluorescent lights above you. Blinking back the inclination to close them and fall back into sleep. Your senses were still adjusting to being awake, but as soon as you started to process what was going on, a sharp pain hit you like a semi-truck.

You groaned, grinding your teeth tougher, tipping your head back into a soft pillow. Your hands were flexing and clawing at anything, and just as you were about to sit up, you finally started to hear the makings of a muffled voice. “B-nnie… hear-me…c…m..on” You looked up at the voice, the blurred face eventually clearing into a worried man with a sucky mohawk.

“Hey- don't sit up quickly, lass; nurse would kill me if she saw y’up and around. Fuck, you took a hit back ther’ didn’t think you’d wake up this early.”

You winced, trying your best to form a smile. “Soap. Thought I remembered seeing that ugly mohawk.” His face slowly relaxed into a soft smile, “Wouldn’t be too cocky, I’m not the one in a hospital bed right now.”

Fuck.

You remember, your smile dropping as memories of the past 72 hours flood your mind. You and the team had gone for an operation, it was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out, grab some guys who were linked to Markov. Take them in for questioning and send them off to Guantanamo Bay if anything slipped.

But of course something had to go wrong, it always does. The previous morning you and Ghost had gotten into an argument, it was over something stupid. Nothing to write home about.

You had a nasty habit of avoiding your problems, so that’s exactly what you did. You avoided him, even during the mission. You were supposed to be buddied up, nobody entering or leaving alone. It was the best way to make sure nobody got lost or hurt. And you slipped through the cracks and out of his sight just long enough to get hurt.

It was fuzzy, like a distant memory or a dream; what you did remember was a voice. Entering an abandoned room with your rifle held out in front of you. Just as you were in the clear, you heard a mutter, probably Russian. Maybe German, it was hard to remember, then a stabbing pain in the back of your head. Most likely, the butt of a gun jammed into your skull.

Then nothing.

You swallowed, “I messed up.” You breathed, “Fuck,” you sounded miserable. Like you'd just discovered your favorite show had been discontinued.

Soap sighed and shrugged, “We all do stupid things, lass. We’re just glad you're up.” You looked up at him, “How bad do you think Price will be when I see him? You think he's going to make me bite the bullet?” It was a lousy attempt at humor on your part, but you didn't know what else to say.

He blew air from out his nose, “Dunno, he's comin’ back soon enough. Price had to drag the lieutenant out your room few hours ago. He’ll probably be with him, knowing Ghost. He's like a fuckin’ lap dog, I’ll tell you.”

You tensed. Ghost.

Shit, forget about Price. You didn't want to see Ghost; if anyone had a right to be mad, it was him. On top of being a pain in the ass, you could've put him in danger as well when you slipped away over a petty argument.

You ran a hand through your hair as best you could without pain. Squeezing your eyes shut, “He's gonna kill me.” You breathed; Soap raised an eyebrow, “I don't know about that, Bonnie; I think he was just worried about your soggy ass. Though after you got hurt, I've never seen the man so tense; LT looked like he had a stick up his ass.” You looked at him with a self-pitiful expression, “I don't think so, Jhonny. This time…he's got a right to be mad.”

He laughed, “Never said he didn't,” he looked back at you and sighed, placing a weary hand on your shoulder. “You’ll be fine [name]; he's different around you. I know it sounds like bullshit, but I think you bring out something in him that's good. And deep down, the guy is just as scared as you are.”

You tried your best to believe it, giving him a weary smile. Soap opened his mouth to say something else before the creek of the door interrupted him.

Price stood in the doorway, his lips pulled into a subtle frown. He cleared his throat, “Afternoon.”

His voice was unreadable, he walked in and placed a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “Soap, nice of you to alert the nurse that [name] is up.” Soap paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in place. “I-uh suppose it slipped my mind.”

Price’s fingers squeezed around his shoulder, “well then now makes the perfect time to go and do so.” With that, Soap stood up promptly. “Right.” He gave you a nod along with a wave to both you and price. Leaving the room with the click of the door, you looked up a Price almost bracing for impact.

“Kid I’m not going to kill you,” Price said, his eyebrow raised. “I’m not the type to lecture you when you’re in a hospital bed.”

Your shoulders relaxed, letting air blow out your nose. “Right, thanks for… that.” You felt awkward, looking around the room. “How’s the rest of the team doing?” You asked, Price sat down in Soaps chair. “Fine, besides your mishap we cleared the place, but it’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You tensed again, to be honest, there were many things he could reprimand you for that didn’t relate to this. Be it your late night snacks in the base kitchen, the contraband items in your room, or your fraternization with Ghost. You cleared your throat, “Alright, shoot.” He looked at you, unimpressed. “Look, I don’t have any concrete evidence or proof, but I know my team. And I know you, what’s going on between you and the Lieutenant… I’m not sure how deep it goes. And to be honest I don’t want to know.”

You looked at him dumbly, your heart beginning to hammer through your chest rapidly. Shit, if Price found out it was over, not to mention it put both your rank and job on the line. Price continued, “I don’t know why you chose to separate; lord knows you know better. I’d have to assume it’s because of your…relations to Ghost. If I have to separate you, I won’t hesitate to transfer you out to a separate team-”

Your heart dropped, hands going clammy. “Price- don’t do that, 141 is my family. I swear I can improve; what happened during the last operation was my fault. But it won’t happen again; you know better than anybody that I’m capable of being on this team.”

Price held up a hand to silence you, “If you wouldn’t interrupt.” His eyes shot you a stern, icy glare. “But, if you can figure out a way to work it out with him, I'm not opposed to turning a blind eye. But that's if, and only if, you prove to me what you pulled, will never happen again.”

Your lips curved up into a relieved smile, “I can- I promise. I'll work it out.” You breathed, looking at your captain like he was your new savior. He looked at you for a moment, “Alright, kid. I already gave Ghost the same speech. He's waiting outside the door; I can pull him away if you need more time.” You thought about it, weighing out the options. But you shook your head, “No, I want to talk to him now.”

He nodded, getting up with a sigh. Lightly patting you on your shoulder, “If you need me, I'm a call away.”

You watched him leave, watching the door shut for a few moments. The silence in the room making your body feel hollow, and then it opened again. A hulking figure of a man entering the room. Simon.

He looked slightly haggard, wearing a sweatshirt and beaten-down jeans. His usual skull mask was swapped for a subtle neck warmer drawn up to his nose. His short-cropped blonde hair was slightly messied. Your eyes met his, dark pools of brown above slight bags. You stayed like that for a beat, staring in silence.

Seeing him brought on a slew of repressed emotions. Sadness, anger, joy, love? You felt your throat getting choked up; you wanted him to run to you, to hold you and tell you it was going to be okay. You wanted him to tell you that he forgave you, to kiss your forehead and stroke your hair. Most of all, you wanted him to say that he loved you, to confirm that your feelings were mutual. That this wasn't just blowing off steam or some silly crush.

“Hey.”

His voice snapped you out of your train of thought, and you swallowed. “Hey.” That was it; you didn't know what else to say, figuring, ‘Hey, sorry, I almost got myself killed on that operation. Anyways, I know you always say we're just friends, but it turns out I have unresolved feelings for you, and I'm deeply in love with you.’ wouldn't go over well.

He stood there momentarily before gingerly taking a seat next to the bed. He cleared his throat, about to speak, when you interrupted him.

“Look- I'm sorry. I know I messed up; I don't expect you to forgive me. What I did was selfish; I didn't want to face talking to you, and I thought running was better than facing you.” Your throat felt like it was closing up again, feeling your emotion burn in your eyes. “And I can understand if this deturs you in any way. I know Price has already talked to you. He knows something is going on between us, which means that I crossed a huge boundary.”

You were rambling, getting out every word that crossed your mind. “And if this means that you want to call it quits, I’ll accept that.” You were choking on your own words, feeling the sting of tears prick in the back of your eyelids.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his palm slide along your cheek. His rough, calloused hands welcomed against the burning flesh of your cheek. You shuddered, looking up at him like a simpering idiot. “You get tha’ all out?” He said it almost humorously, and you swallowed, breathing a bitter laugh. “I can keep going if you want,” you replied.

His eyes crinkled slightly, his cheeks pulling up behind the fabric of his neck warmer. His hands brought you in, pulling you into his chest. You gladly leaned into him, bullying your face into his sweatshirt. You felt his breath on the top of your head, softly exhaling. “I'm sorry I wasn't there.”

Your shoulders relaxed; it was like he flipped a switch inside you. Able to calm the storm of emotions that bellowed inside you just by an embrace. You felt his lips graze your head, “You don't need to ask for forgiveness, not with me, not after the shite I've been pulling.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Ghost, I-” “Simon.” You stopped, tilting your head slightly. “What?”

He looked at you, his eyes burning holes through yours. “No more Ghost, not alone at least. Not with you.” Your eyebrows stayed furrowed in confusion, almost urging him on. You felt his hand gently stroke atop your head, “[Name], I've been going mad for bloody weeks. I was trying to convince myself that I don’t want more than what we have, and if that makes me a selfish bastard, then so be it. I know I’m shit at talking about things like this, but I need you to know that I want you.”

You looked at him; it was like you weren't breathing. He continued, “And Price, the team, anyone else be dammed to hell. I'm not losing you, not if I can help it.”

Your lip curved into a smile, “you get that all out?” You threw his words back at him, and his eyes crinkled further. “On second thought, I can leave now.” You giggled and pulled him back by the scruff of his hoodie. Pulling his face in and sliding down his neck warmer to slot your lips against his. He leaned into you, a low hum coming from his throat. Your hands moved along his stubble, pulling him impossibly closer.

After a brief moment, you separated, feeling his breath fan against your wetted lips. “So…we’re okay?” You asked, the makings of a smile pulling at your lips.

Simon smiled, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

╰┈➤

Bonus Smut! ❤️

Scroll to end If you don't want to read :)

You had been discharged from the hospital for a few days; however, you weren't cleared for active duty for another week, which was terrible news for someone who could never sit still.

Twiddling your thumbs and watching reruns of cheesy reality TV could only get you so far before you went stir-crazy. Simon came around when he had the time, but as it stood, he was busy and had to put work first. So you were left inside a shifty apartment off-base all alone.

The worst part? You were sexually frustrated as all hell. Not only could you not satiate your needs inside a hospital, but Simon wouldn't touch you. It's not that he didn't want to, but in his words, “I'm not fucking you right after you almost died. You're still healing.”

Well, he can piss off.

Concussion be damned, it's not like your pussy was damaged. You groaned, just thinking about it; who needs a boyfriend anyway? You could make due; your fingers weren't bad. You looked at your phone, debating. Maybe one last try wouldn't hurt.

You picked up the phone and typed out a message to Simon.

{you} sent 8:34 pm: I miss your cock :(

The reply was almost instant, making you frown.

{Simon} read 8:35 pm: Jesus [name], what is wrong with you?

You grumbled, tossing your phone onto the couch. What was his problem? You were just being honest; you really did miss him. Him: more specifically, his cock. But you perked up when you saw more bubbles appear on your phone. You picked it back up as soon as the phone vibrated with a new message.

{Simon} read 8:37 pm: I’m coming over, hold on.

You stared at the message, your body almost levitating with happiness. It's about time; after days of pining, you were going to get laid!

You scrambled off the couch and to the shower. The base wasn't too far away, so he wouldn't be more than thirty minutes. This was the first time you would be with him since officially getting together. The least you could do was clean up a bit.

After minutes of scrubbing and lotioning your body, until you felt like a lubricated pool noodle, you weaseled out of the shower. Throwing a towel over your hair and drying off, finally throwing on an oversized shirt, not bothering to put on undergarments because, in the end, they would just be thrown off.

You walked out of your room just as the lock on the door clicked. Simon emerged through the door, he was still in his uniform. He smelled like sweat and musk, and god, it made your knees almost buckle. The keys dangling from his hand, he pulled down his balaclava, throwing it on the entryway table.

“You know-” He started, running a hand over his face. “You really need to learn how sexting works because out of the blue isn't how these things usually go.”

You shrugged, “it got my point across, didn't it?” Standing there and looking at him with a smile, your arms crossed before you. Simon rolled his eyes, walking over to you and settling his arms around your waist.

“You never were good at keep your true feelings hidden were you?”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Simon, are you going to keep talking, or are you going to fuck me?” His hands squeezed you tighter, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

He pulled you closer, slotting your lips against his in a hungry kiss. The soft sound of lips melded together, echoing through the quiet apartment. He trailed his tongue over your bottom lip, lightly nipping at it. Earning a soft hum from your throat, his large hands migrating down to the flesh of your ass to give it a firm squeeze.

He started to walk you backward, bumping into the wall while in search of the bedroom doorway and pushing your hips flush against his. You groaned, clawing your dull nails against his neck. Threading a hand through his hair, he gripped you by the meat of your thighs and hoisted you up. Letting you wrap your legs around his waist as he supported you by palming your rear.

He walked you over to your bedroom, separating from the kiss. Your nose slotted against him, and his breath fanning against your lips. His eyes cast down to the bottom of your lifted shirt and to your bare cunt.

“Fuck, you're trying to kill me woman.” He groaned, his fingers digging into the bare flesh of your ass. He set you down on the bed, sliding your shirt up to reveal your breasts.

He started to place open-mouthed kisses on the underside of your chest, down your stomach, and to the skin just above your v-line. You moaned, threading your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging with each kiss, letting out soft whispers of his name that spurred him on.

Eventually, he tugged the shirt over your head. Revealing your bare body to him, he licked his lips, sliding his hand along your exposed flesh. “Look at you, you're a fucking vision, you know that? Been torture not being able to see this.” He mused.

You shuddered, his form looming over you like he would pounce. “Torture? You're the one who was denying me.” You said with a breathy chuckle as he tucked his head into your neck, suckling along the exposed skin.

“You were fresh out of the hospital [name]; I'm not going to fuck you when you're freshly concussed.” He breathed into your neck; you clawed at his shirt, tugging it up. “Yeah, well, it would've been worth it.” You giggled.

Simon leaned back, tugging his shirt up and over his head. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscles, tattoos, and hair trail leading down into his pants. You felt yourself clench just looking at him. “Simon, I swear I'm going to murder you if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He rolled his eyes, “You haven't been fucked in over a week, and you think you can just take my cock straight off the bat? You're out of your bloody mind.” Simon laughed, amused by your desperate attitude.

You groaned, “asshole.”

He snickered, holding out a finger in front of your mouth. “Open.” The command was simple, and you obeyed. You sucked on the finger, your tongue swirling around his digit with vigor. After a minute, he removed it. Then, moving his finger down to circle your clit.

You shuddered, the arch of your back lifting slightly off the bed as he continued his menstruation. You felt his chuckle reverberate off your skin, “That good, huh?” Your cheeks turned a little rosy; you didn't have a witty comeback, so you settled for a slow nod. His finger slid down the lips of your cunt, gathering as much slickness as he could before slowly pushing a digit into you.

A soft gasp ripped through you, tossing your head back against the soft pillows of your bed. “Simon.” you breathed, a soft plea for more; he hummed in response, slowly pumping his finger in and out at a steady, slow rhythm.

Your dull nails dragged along his neck, letting out a whine as you felt him add a second finger. The stretch hurt in such a good way, making your bones ache for more. He silently cursed as he watched his digits slide in and out of you with ease. “Missed feeling this, god I never get tired of feeling how tight this cunt is.” Your skin seemed to burn with his words, and the slick sounds accompanying his voice made you squirm.

As he kept it up, you felt the low hum in your stomach turn into a roaring fire. Now, you rolled your hips into Simon’s hands, desperate for more friction to quell the sparking flames in your core.

You moaned, your lips parted into a soft ‘o shape. The muscles in your core constricted then relaxed with each thrust of his fingers, “Simon- close, I'm close.” You breathed, the words spilling out from your tongue in fragments. He nodded and thrust his fingers up, feeling out for the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside you. Simultaneously, he angled his thumb over your clit, applying pressure as he moved his digit in circles.

“Come on, love, cum for me. That's it, baby, come on.” A sharp cry ripped through you, your hips jolting and your body moving in tandem with his hands. Your eyes squeezed shut as he worked you through your orgasm.

By the time he slid his fingers out of you, you were a panting, disheveled mess. Your chest expanded with each deep breath you took. You looked up at Simon, blinking away the daze of afterglow. He smiled and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Atta girl, you need a minute?” You smiled, basking in the bliss. Your hands moved down his back, stroking up and down. Shaking your head with a breathy chuckle, “I meant what I said, Simon Riley. If you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to murder you.”

His lips curved into a wolfish grin, pressing another quick kiss to the base of your forehead. “You're the boss.” He murmured. Simon leaned back up and began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes watching his pants slide down like your life depended on it. The apparent tent in his boxers and a darker stain on the fabric where his tip was made your mouth water.

“You're gonna burn a hole through me if you don't quit staring.” He deadpanned; you smiled and sat up on the bed. Leaning on your heels with your hands on your knees, “Just enjoying the show is all.” You said smoothly; Simon shook his head and chuckled. He freed himself of his boxers, then leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“You have any preferences, love?” You shook your head no, “Up to you, Simon.” He thought about it briefly, his dark eyes boring into yours.

“Lean back, head on the pillows and one under your back. I want to see your face.” You nodded, happily assuming your position. He crawled onto the bed with you, kneeling before your spread legs. Without warning he hooked his arms around the crease in your legs and lifted. Your breath hitched, your eyes never leaving him for a moment.

He lifted your legs onto his shoulders, almost folding you in half like a lawn chair. One hand held your thigh in place while the other dropped down to give his cock a few generous pumps. Spreading the beading liquid at his tip down the base of his girth. You swallowed, and the familiar buzz deep within you returned.

He dragged his length across the slick lips of your pussy, making the both of you groan. “Ready?” He asked, his eyes studying your face, “Simon fuck me.” You said sternly; the corner of his lip twitched up.

Simon pushed inside, splitting you open with his dick. You threw your head back, savoring the stretch of his girth. Even with prep, it burned, pushing the muscles of your insides as far as you felt they could go. He cursed, his mouth open as he savored the delicious feeling of your walls wrapped around his burning skin. “Fuck, so fuckin’ tight. God [name], you feel so good wrapped around me like this. Like you were made for me.”

All you could manage was a whine and a simple nod in agreement. It was like he was pulsing inside you, “You’re still on the pill, yeah?” He breathed, and you nodded. “Yep.”

“Good.” He groaned, suddenly forcing his other hand back onto your leg. He pushed himself fully into you, leaning over you so that your knees almost touched your ears. You moaned suddenly, “Simon-” you choked. With new rigor, he withdrew so only his tip remained inside your swollen walls. Then, slammed back into your cunt with a lewd slap of skin on skin. The both of you moaned in sync, your arms clawing at his neck, back, hair, anywhere you could reach.

“This what you wanted? Hm? Begging me to fuck you like that, driving me fucking insane all week.” He grunted as he thrust in and out, your legs and chest bouncing with each thrust of his hips. You choked out a yes, “So dirty, telling me you miss my cock when I'm on base. Can't even go more than a week-” Thrust. “Without-” Thrust “This-” Thrust. “Dick.”

You couldn't think straight, not when he was fucking you like this. Like it was his last wish alive, you were a moaning mess, almost going cross-eyed from the amount of pleasure that was surging through you. Your eyelids drooped, watching him fuck into you through your eyelashes. “Simon- fuck, I can't-” you gasped. Quickly, he used one hand to grab your face, squishing your cheeks and snapping you back into reality. “Look at me, don't you dare close those eyes. I want to see you look at me as I fuck you. I want to see it when you cum on my cock.”

You shuddered, clenching around him. You knew he felt it by the way his hips stuttered; your eyes opened, looking dazedly up at his face as he rammed into you.

Simon moaned, his face drooped down into the crook of your neck. His breath against your burning skin and his fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your thighs. “[Name], shit, I'm close, Christ. I'm not going to last much longer, sweetheart.” He grunted, making you squeeze him tighter to you. You shook your head, “I’m close too; please, Simon cum for me.” You begged, feeling the familiar coil between your legs starting to tighten.

He pulled his head away; his eyes glazed over as he snapped his hips into you with vigor. Grunting with each thrust, “That's it, oh fuck that's it, pretty girl. So good f’me, so fucking beautiful. Gonna fill this tight cunt, that's what you want yeah?”

You nodded feverishly, gasping for air, “Yes, please, Simon!” Your mind turned to mush, and his hips drove into you, filling every crevice in your pussy you thought you had. Simon cursed loudly, his hips stuttering as his cock pulsed; he came deep inside you, the force of his hips making your toes curl. Sparking your own orgasm, you saw white, throwing your head back and moving in tandem to meet his sloppy thrusts. After a few more thrusts, he relaxed, dropping your legs from his shoulders as gently as he could.

You both laid there, panting and basking in the afterglow of sex. His cock was still snugly inside you, slowly softening. He leaned into you, resting his head against yours. Your fingers gently trailed over his head, brushing and smoothing his sweaty blonde hair. He pulled away after a minute or two, sliding out of you. Simon watched as his cum pooled from your cunt, and even though you had just had sex, it made you a tad flustered.

He gently brushed a hand against the side of your face, and you took his palm and pressed a soft, weary kiss on the inside of his wrist. Simon’s eyes crinkled lightly as he smiled, “You alright?” He murmured. You giggled softly and nodded, a dopey smile plastered across your face. “More than alright.”

You pulled him in for another kiss, cupping his jaw in your hands. After separating, you breathed, looking down at yourself and then back at him.

“So…how do you feel about another shower?”

╰┈➤

Woah, it's been awhile!

First off, let me say thank you to everyone who liked and followed. There are 400 likes on my last post now, and I couldn't be more honored! Sorry, I've been MIA, lol. My Life got in the way, and I had no motivation… so, take this as my apologies.

Anyway, I would love it if you could like the post and follow. It feeds my ego, and spurrs me on.

I'm so sorry, but I totally lost the person who should have been credited for the banner. I swear I just had it, and now it has disappeared; I think their name has Frost or Panda in it. If you recognize them or their work tag them please!!! ✺◟( ͡° ᗢ ͡°) ◞✺❤️

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