mrsrileywrites

[mrsrileywrites]

it starts because you don't know when to stop.

a snide comment during debrief. a sharp suck of your teeth when you're ordered to keep second-to-last watch. enough sass throughout the day that, if you were under anyone else, it would've earned you more than a clipped warning. but you're not, and with Ghost, it's different.

he doesn't snap at you, doesn't bark. he just decides you need to learn.

his lessons are brutal.

the first one almost goes unnoticed until you feel the heavy pressure of his hand on your thigh beneath the conference table. gloves off, calloused fingers sliding higher while Price drones on at the head of the room. you stiffen, a hiss of air caught in your throat, but Ghost doesn't even look at you. he's staring ahead, mask tilted toward the screen like nothing's happening.

his fingers slip past uniform, find the damp heat already gathering where you're softest. it forces you to sit perfectly still while he works you open with slow, merciless strokes, your notebook clutched so tight your knuckles burn, your lip bitten near bloody just to keep silent. (every slide is louder to you than Price's voice.) you squirm in your seat despite yourself, thighs squeezing shut but he hooks a heavy boot around your calf and pulls. you'll be splayed open as long as he damn well pleases.

"you've got a mouth on you," he rumbles later in the corridor, his hand fisting in your collar as he steers you toward his office. "let's see if you can use it to save yourself."

the desk is cold against your hips and the door stays unlocked. his cock splits you open, and every thrust comes with the weight of his threat. make a sound, and anyone walking by will know how he's got you.

that's the real discipline. not his palm narrowing your world down, not his rank. it's the risk. (the hallways are not empty. the walls aren't thick.) it's the way your body betrays you, writhing under the drag of him, desperate for more while your throat aches with swallowed moans.

he doesn't stop until you're ruined; slick, shaking, jaw sore from clamping down on screams, and your pride in pieces.

and when he finally bends close, his breath on your ear, his voice is low, dangerous, and satisfied.

"good girl. see? learned to shut the fuck up all on your own."

[mrsrileywrites]

Wilfred with some of the shells we found on the beach.

[mrsrileywrites]

[mrsrileywrites]

Wouldnt his wife be a colonizer because Simon's ancestors stayed home

I'm sick, okay? I was feverish when I wrote and posted that, wasn't expecting to get that many interactions.

[mrsrileywrites]

There's only two things Ghost loves from America, Kentucky bourbon and his sweet wife who also calls him a colonizer every time they have an argument.

That's it... that's all.

[mrsrileywrites]

Can I cash app you or PayPal you some money for financial assistance don’t fell shy and don’t be skeptical about this it’s just for financial assistance ❤️

I don't use cash app or paypal and I don't feel like getting scammed either but thanks for trying 🫶🏻

[mrsrileywrites]

🤤 not even 9am yet and I'm already thinking filthy thoughts

not that this man would ever take a vacation but you can't convince me this isn't john price on leave somewhere on the coast. his belly's softer because he's been eating whatever he wants lately. he bought short shorts to wear and invites you to ride out onto the water in the boat he rented. he calls you bunny and rubs sunscreen on you and invites you spend the night in his cottage a few ticks down from yours.

he lets you drink his whiskey and likes the way your nose twitches at the smell of cigar smoke he purposefully blows into your face. helps you ride his thigh after getting tipsy and then fucks you raw until you can't see straight.

the next morning, he wakes you with a tongue in your hole. then pops over to the shop to buy you a shit ton of pastries before hurrying back to feed it to you in the bed. hushing your sleepy whines with a peck on your mouth and nuzzle of your cheek in between each bite of the breakfast.

gotta eat up, bunny. he's got a day full of upcoming activities for the two of you...

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[mrsrileywrites]

Ugh! 😩 This movie comes out in Japan tomorrow and I couldn't be more sad that I'm not a billionaire who can take its private jet to Japan just to watch this movie.

🗞️Kimetsu news🗞️

It seems like the first movie in the infinity castle arc is coming out on July 18 in Japan.

[mrsrileywrites]

Doctor Riley our hero!!

Like Real People Do previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader - hospital au CW: sexual harassment, posessive/protective Doctor Riley

"Are you the primary for crib A?"

“Yes.” The new resident scans the length of your body, and smiles. Except it’s not friendly or kind, it’s pointed and almost predatory.

“We need to get an art stick and then I want to start the Furosemide Doctor Riley and I talked about earlier.” Okay…

“Okay. Once the order is in I’ll-”

“I’m giving it to you now.” Your eyebrow raises. The protocol up here is very clear. Verbal orders may fly in the ED, but not in the NICU, and for good reason. You can do an arterial stick fine, but you’re not starting a new med without an order.

“I know but you’ll still need to put it in before I start it.” His upper lips curls and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go.

“The last time I checked,” he looks at your badge, locates your name, and smirks, “Daisy, you’re a nurse, and I’m a doctor. It’s your job to do what I tell you to do.” This dude better be joking.

“I understand my job perfectly fine,” you mimic him, looking at his badge and slowly dragging your eyes back to his, “Doctor Beckert, which means you’ll still need to put an order in before I start the medication.” Please god let this not be his speciality. If it is, being stuck with him for years is going to suck.

Residents like this give the rest of them a bad reputation. They're more likely to be nice, excited, and eager, fresh and ready to learn. Med students and residents always excite you, they reignite the why that sometimes gets lost, but some of them carry a chip on their shoulder and it makes them mean. Entitled, like this one. He sighs, and something unnerving flashes in his eyes as he leans in. Something worrisome.

“Be a good girl Daisy, and get the medication, okay? By the time you get around to it, the order will be in. How does that sound?” You grit your teeth. You can’t afford a complaint from a provider, so you swallow your tongue and nod.

“Okay.”

“I’m scared.” The little girl grips the mask in her fingers so tight her knuckles are white.

The OR is in a dance around you. Lights, camera, action. They’re all taking their well known places, performing their well known duties.

You’re not even supposed to be in here. Doctor Riley is not even supposed to be in here, but the patient on the table, sweet little four year old Sophia, has a very specific heart defect leftover from her being born at twenty nine weeks, and Doctor Riley is the only one who has experience repairing them on this side of the country.

He’s standing at the table, talking to Doctor Beckert, and Doctor MacTavish is being you, checking dosages and pumps and everything else, stopping to give you a look. You don’t need to be an OR nurse to interpret it. It’s time to go to sleep.

“You know, I know a little girl who had a surgery just like this.” Okay it’s a lie. Not quite like this but you’re going with it.

“You do?” You pull the mask from her surprisingly strong grip and smile.

“Yeah. You know what she told me after it was over?”

“What?”

“That she had the best day ever because she got to eat all the ice cream she wanted, and the nurses let her watch her favorite movies that night.” Sophia’s eyes go wide with wonder.

“Wow. Will I get to do that?” Your vision turns fuzzy for a second and you see Riley on the table, small and fragile. You shake it loose. Focus.

“You will. But only if you go to sleep. Do you think you can do that?” Her apprehension is mostly gone now, soothed.

“I want chocolate ice cream.” She insists, little brows coming together in determination.

“Okay.” You squeeze her arm encouragingly, and then hand her the mask, keeping your palm over it to guide her. “Deep breaths for me, okay? And then I’ll see you afterwards.” She holds out her pinkie.

“Pinkie promise?” You loop it through yours and nod.

“Pinkie promise.” She goes down after that without issue, and when you stand and turn back to the room, Doctor Riley is watching you. In his scrub cap and mask, only his eyes are visible, and they bear down on you with enormous pressure, that gentle-tender thing in them from the other day framed by barely there blonde flecked eyelashes. It's confusing, it's frightening, it's chipping away at you and making your needs weak. You swallow.

“All good?” He never drops his gaze from yours, even with the flurry of activity spinning in a circle around him.

“All good.” You whisper, but somehow, it’s loud.

You’re circulating.

And sweating.

Thank god the OR scrubs are dark blue because you’d have stains right now. Plus the cap is tied so tight to your head, too tight probably, and it’s giving you a bit of a headache.

Of all the things in the unit you’ve learned or are still learning, the OR is the biggest, but you’re doing okay. You might be stressed on the inside, but you’ve got the room under control.

It helps that Doctor Riley is a meticulous pro. He never drops anything. He never questions anything. He’s methodical, and you’re learning to anticipate his needs pretty well, like the lap pads. You notice they’re getting low and grab a refill, replacing them silently and sliding back to your space without a word. No one even notices... which is the problem when Doctor Beckert looks up at you and asks for them. You incline your head to where the refreshed stack is, but he misses the cue.

“Are you deaf?” Your mouth drops open behind your mask.

“They’re right-”

“I asked you for more lap pads.” Oh my god this fucking guy. Doctor Riley’s head shoots up.

“Is there a problem?” He looks at his resident and follows his line of sight to where you’re standing, flustered and taken aback. For a split second, a nanosecond, his brow wrinkles before smoothing back to normal, his attention going right back to where he has a small child’s chest open, her beating heart under his instruments. “Doctor Beckert?”

“I asked Daisy for more lap pads.” You know he’s sneering at you, you can see it beneath his mask, and your tongue turns to sandpaper. It won’t matter that you’ve already provided them, it won’t matter than they’re sitting right there. All that will matter is that he’s an MD and you’re a nurse and you’re pissing him off, and there will be consequences.

“Daisy? Lap pads?” Doctor Riley asks, clearly not realizing either, which you don't fault him for.

“I-” You lose your words. Something about you is breaking. You’re not yourself. There are chinks in your armor you've never seen before. Doctor Riley is chipping away at your foundation, your control, and you hate it.

No one else says anything. They know the drill, they see the ticking time bomb that is this resident.

“Daisy.” He says sharply. He’s maintaining focus on his work, not bothering to look, which of course, is the correct action. Doctor Beckert snorts.

“I think your nurse is defective.” Doctor MacTavish inhales sharply, and his stool creaks beneath shifting weight.

“Daisy!” Doctor Riley barks this time, and you suppress your flinch. The OR is so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“They’re right there.” You whisper, staring at them. He finally looks, finally, and his chest expands with a deep breath.

“Have they been here the whole time?” You nod. You don’t say anything. You can’t. “Doctor Beckert,” he says slowly, returning to his work, “next time, let’s actually take a second to look at what we’re asking for before insulting one of my nurses. She’s clearly paying attention. I’d like you to too.” Doctor MacTavish chuckles, and the OR breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

You’d be relieved too, if the next thing that happened wasn’t Doctor Beckert scowling at you, his eyes holding a promise.

He makes good on that promise.

On top of putting his orders in one at a time, he’s been asking you to do things like find him a pen, or get him a coffee. He's made comments about your ass more than once. He locked you in a supply closet. He criticizes you at every turn, so much so your coworkers have started to notice, and Key is frequently frowning at you.

She probably thinks you’re a fuck up now too.

Being treated like a waitress, the comments about your ass and tits, even being locked in the supply closet... they're not the worst things. The worst thing is the stuff he says to you when no one else is around, when he corners you in a hallway, or ends up alone with you in the break room. He brushes up against you, he calls you a slut and whore, whispers things in your ear like maybe sucking dick is all that you’re good for. You've told him to fuck off, to stop, but it does nothing.

But you let it go. Let it roll off your back. You aren’t going to let this asshole get the best of you, trip you up.

You have it handled. You have it under control.

“Daisy.” Doctor Riley calls down the hall, and you tense, turning towards the sound of his voice. “My office.” You’re fucked. You’re fired. You’re getting sent back to the ED. You’re losing this pay raise. Key intercepts your death march.

“It’s going to be okay.” She looks sad, and she probably is. She put so much work into you, tried so hard.

“What?”

“Just tell the truth, alright?” About what? You give her some kind of numb response, and then you walk the plank.

“Is there an issue with Doctor Beckert?” Shit. He probably complained about you, reported you for something. You don’t know what to say, so you lie.

“No, there’s not. Or at least I don’t think there is?” Doctor Riley is half sitting on the front of his desk again, legs stretched out, his thighs straining in his scrub pants with his arms across his chest.

“Did he not lock you in a storage closet?” Your mask slips with surprise. You didn’t think anyone knew about that.

“I think it was an accident.” You need to sell it, assure him.

“How long has this been going on?” His voice is icy, frozen to the core, and you don’t know what to do. You don’t see a way out of this.

“How long has what been going on?” His jaw flexes. It’s one of his signals, a warning that tells you his patience is growing thin.

“The harassment, Daisy. How long has he been harassing you?” It’s going to be okay, Key’s voice floats in your head, just tell the truth alright? You had it backwards. He didn’t report you at all, she reported him. “Keona says she thinks she overheard him talking about your body, and Isa says she saw him touch you. Is that true?” Your blood ignites in shame, your mouth falling out of sync with your brain, and you can’t catch up. “Is that true, Daisy?”

“He’s… he’s said some things, but…”

“But?”

“I need this job.” You blurt, and his head snaps back like you’ve struck him.

“Excuse me?”

“I need this job. I took it for the pay raise, and I know I’ve been underperforming. I didn’t want to… make waves. I can handle him. He’s not my first asshole resident.” He’s quiet for a long time. Long enough you start to squirm, study the carpet until the rich, rough cadence of his voice fills the room.

“I don’t know how it is on other floors, but in my unit, I don’t accept anyone being harassed for any reason. It doesn’t matter if you’re a resident, a nurse, or a bloody scrub tech. That’s not how it works here.”

“Okay.” You whisper.

“But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, since you can handle him. You have it all under control, right?” It's like he's cast a line under your skin, hooked some vulnerable piece and is starting to reel it towards him, coax it to the surface. You nod and he stands. An alarm blares in the back of your mind and suddenly it’s hot in here, too hot, and he’s too close to you, taking all the air in the room. “And you don’t need help, do you Daisy? It doesn't matter that he's called you a slut, because you're fine.” You nod again, on autopilot. You're in control. You're fine.

“I don’t need help.” You, agree but it feels wrong, and your voice should be steel, but it wavers. Just enough to be there, surprising you.

“You can handle him. You can handle someone touching you," like a switch has been flipped, his gaze turn murderous, dark with anger and your heart pounds. "After you've said no. After you've told them to stop, because you don't need help." You’re on that ledge again, the small flicker of need in your heart growing a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder, begging you to let go. He's in your head, like a hunter familiar with his prey he senses it, striking and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. “Did you think I would let someone do that to you? That I would let someone say those things to you? That I would let him touch you?" You can taste his mouthful of rage in the air. It’s shocking. Confusing. Makes you dizzy as he stands directly in front of you, sterile soap and freshly peeled orange surrounding you, going to your head. You have to hold onto the chair to keep from losing your balance, tipping from one side or the other.

You can't breathe. This weight will crush you.

“I'm going to fix this Daisy," He's all around you and there's no escape. Not here. "But I want you to admit to yourself that you need it, that you need help with this.” You hang your head in shame. It’s more than just admitting it. It’s a white flag, it’s defeat. You’re not strong, you can’t do it, you don’t have things under control. You’re failing. Riley, yourself, Tess and Liam. Everyone. Everything.

Slow, methodical fingers fold over yours, the heat in his skin forcing your grip on the back of the chair to loosen as his thumb rubs careful, encouraging circles into your skin. This isn't cold or clinical, this is not the surgeon you've known. This is the paradox, an illogical side of a coin that you somehow always knew existed.

“Tell me what you need Daisy.” The breath you’ve subconsciously been holding leaks from your lungs, and you tip your head back, searching for a lifeline, only to find him.

And in that moment, that one fluke of a moment, that one this is never happening again moment, you acquiesce. You fall.

“I need help.”

You open your email when you get to work the next day to find a unit wide message reminding everyone about harassment policies for the hospital and the NICU specifically.

Below that, is a personnel announcement.

Doctor Beckert has been fired-

and that small flicker in your heart turns into a flame. 

[mrsrileywrites]

Fuck yeah!🥵

"Fuck, I missed you" while sliding every inch inside you.

[mrsrileywrites]

I love this already 🥹

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO / MASTERLIST

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/female reader (Daisy) 141 hospital au - 18+ - see additional content information here Each part to have individual tags and warnings

Transfer Coddled Cherries Cracks

Daisy and Riley at home - moodboard title reference

[mrsrileywrites]

birdwatching 🤣🤣

i know in my heart that back at his manchester flophouse that ghost has a very very powerful sniper scope squirrelled away so he can peep on the soft, round girl who lives halfway across town in a fifteenth floor apartment, who thinks she's too high up to have to worry about closing her blinds

[his therapist had suggested taking up a hobby that he could pursue while on leave. ghost told him he's taken up 'birdwatching'.]

[mrsrileywrites]

😍😍

Something about Simon having a river rat girlfriend.

It's not that he doesn't like the States, it's just unbearably muggy, makes the gaiter he wears more of a task than it needs to be. The sun seemingly swirling around him akin to the enemy from Mario, determined to sear him alive.

But his bird loves it. Skips around all morning making a little picnic basket, braiding her hair. Makes sure he has an extra magazine tucked away amongst the sandwiches and sunscreen.

Get's his input on songs for their portable speaker.

He doesn't understand what some of these men are whingeing about.

This shit is easy.

All he has to do is stand patiently as she lathers him up with sunscreen, standing on the footrest of the truck so she can reach his shoulders. Delicate fingers brushing beneath his eyes, making sure to get the back of his ears so they don't blister like last time.

He finds them a secluded area, plopping his chair in shallows under the easy shade, a nice vantage point to watch the opposite woodline, and cuts her loose, calves resting in the cool rush of water.

She plays and plays, neon goggles making imprints on her face as she paddles around looking for shiny rocks. It's a show every time she comes back to him, big soft curves glistening in the summer sun, as she offers her treasures up for inspection.

He watches her splash, deadman float a few feet down river and scramble back again. Watches her flip rocks for bugs and promptly squeal and run when one has the audacity to startle her back.

His favorite is sunscreen time, wrangling her back to him all warm cheeked and smiling, smearing her down in coconut scented lotion, making sure his paws slide under all the margins of her swimsuit, rough palms gliding over the plush of her rear, the sensitive sides of her breasts.

It's another feat to get her to sit still long enough for it to soak in, tugging her ass in his lap and plying her with a chip laden sandwich. She munches away happily.

So no, the mosquitos and damp heat are not his favorite. But sunscreen kisses sure are.

[mrsrileywrites]

🤣🤣

picky eater foap

saw an insta reel

[mrsrileywrites]

[mrsrileywrites]

Nah cause I sold this cool fishing table or something, idk someone gave it to me and it was new and I don't go fishing so 🤷🏻‍♀️, and the guy that came to pick it up was screaming John Price, blue eyes, beard and everything, ex military, said he served in Iraq or Afghanistan? I don't remember, I was too busy checking him out and day dreaming the whole elevator ride 😭

Anyway, he was on time, very polite, and he paid what I was asking for without a fuss. What a gentleman, I gave him 5 stars.

I hope he didn't think I was a creep because I swear I'm not, I was just admiring, but I'm not gonna lie if I was a creep I would've probably asked him if he wanted to exchange the fishing thing for a shag in the storage unit, I have a brand new mattress there I haven't sold.

[mrsrileywrites]