#Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II

[temeyes]

simon riley, ang panget mo talaga (affectionate)

[ang311ic]

Post argument sex with Gaz

(Unedited, just wanted to write something after so long of having no ideas)

This man is stubborn, my baby doesn’t have many flaws (ignoring that he’s a war criminal) but he refuses admit he’s wrong. He also refuses to apologise because why would he apologise if he’s right? That’s a little harsh, he does end up apologising just with his dick instead.

The pair of you get in a stupid fight, something that was easily preventable but still ended up happening.

You’re pissed off with him, giving him the silent treatment and not even bothering to sleep in the same bed as him that night. You take your pillow and spend that night on the couch ignoring his protests.

You wake up to the feeling of someone’s lips against your neck and unless you have an insane stalker you weren’t aware of, it’s Kyle.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled groggily, not bothering to push him away in your sleep addled state. You don’t get a response instead you feel his calloused hand move down your stomach and slip under the band of your sweatpants. “Kyle-“

“Shhh. Let me make things better.” He murmurs and you’re unsure whether this is turning you on or making you want to slap him in the face. Your thought process was cut short when his fingers reached the soft cotton if your underwear, running them across your slit and making you gasp. You hated how good he made you feel but if there was one thing he was good at it was making you feel good.

“You like that?” He almost growled his face moving to rest against the crook of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you. His thumb moves to brush against your clit making your hips involuntary buck into his touch. “Getting so mad over nothing,” His tone so incredibly condensing, you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “Just need a good fuck to sort you out.”

“You’re an asshole.” You spit out though you don’t stop him when he pulls both of your pijamas off and slips your underwear to the side. His half-hard cock rubs against your pussy, collecting the slick over his head. “You don’t listen, you just brush me off, you’re never even here.” You rant though your words aren’t very effective, interrupted by harsh breaths of pleasure and stifled moans.

“I know, I know lovey.” He coos, almost sounding understanding and he was but you could discuss that later. He finally pushed his length inside you, groaning at the sensation of your tight velvety walls around him. His fingers find his way into your mouth, his index and middle slipping between your plump lips only allowing the sounds of your whines and moans to leave.

He fucks into you slowly, taking in every sensation. The feeling of your tongue against his fingers, the way you clench around him when he hits a spot that makes pleasure build in the pit of your stomach.

You had to remind yourself that you were mad but that was getting increasingly difficult with how he was making you feel. Your head fell back against his shoulder, a string of drool slipping down your chin and your chest rising and falling rapidly as your hips grinder against him to meet his thrusts. A mess. He’d turned you into a mess.

“You want to cum for me?” He asks like it was even a question to begin with. He removed his fingers from your mouth and rubbed his saliva drenched fingers against your clit once again, making you whine sharply in pleasure. “You want to feel good for me?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed out, trying to get your words out as quick as possible. “Please, please. I want it want it so bad.” You babbled, begging as of your life depended on it. The coil inside you felt like it was about to burst. You had forgot about the argument, had forgotten about your annoyance, you just wanted him, you wanted him to make you cum. With one more snap of his hips and circle of his index fingers, you break. You gush over his dick, unable to stop yourself from moaning his name loudly even if it was probably making him significantly more smug.

His hands tighten his hold one you. One arm wrapped around his waste and his other holding your jaw to keep you pressed up close against him. He helps you ride out your orgasm while also chasing his, pumping rapidly in and out of your fluttering cunt. “So good.” He praises, the words catching in his throat as his own pleasure builds. Even when the pair of you are arguing he always manages to let you cum first. “So, so fucking good for me.” He grunts as his load spills out into you, filling you up with his hot cum.

That night you feel asleep on the sofa with him still inside of you, snuggled close to each other. That morning Gaz wasn’t there, he was making coffee and when he arrived back to the living room he sat in the exact same place and discussed said argument. Communication!

[kaar-ne]

Remember to protect yourself when out on a sunny day.

[feralforfrank]

EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.

cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!

a/n some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)

masterlist | taglist

When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body. 

It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.

A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.

Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter. 

But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments. 

The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.

Fuck, it's not there. 

The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.

In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz? 

"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.

Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.

"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

Darlin'.

Darlin'. Darlin'!

Ghost.

And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.

"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.

"Help me up," you whisper.

Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.

He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.

"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.

There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other. 

You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.

Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest. 

A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.

"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"

"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.

You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."

"You protected the team."

"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."

"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."

You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.

"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.

You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.

"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered." 

It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.

"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."

Lt. 

I'm your Lt.

It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.

"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"

"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."

Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."

He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.

"Leaving?"

It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.

But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.

He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.

So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.

You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.

And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.

He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.

previous | next

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[ taglist: @master-amidala, @darklordofthesimp (i'm finally writing for this fandom! ]

[ncthandrake]

Modern Warfare (2019) // Modern Warfare II: Atomgrad Episode 2 (2023)

[callsign-bunnie]

Ghost, sleep deprived, not paying attention: *kisses Rodolfo's hair* Morning.

Rodolfo, dark red: Um-

Ghost: ...you're not Soap

Soap: *laughing* No, but Alejandro is right behind you

[storiesbysoup]

Could you write ghost and somno?

lieutenant simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader. warnings: somnophilia extra: so sorry this took so long to get out!! MASTERLIST

“Fuck, bird – forgot how much I love doin’ this to ya.”

His voice was low and gravelly, sounding from the base of his throat as he did his best to stay quiet to allow your beauty rest while urging on your arousal. Simon was no idiot: he knew the exact feeling his voice brought onto your body, onto your mind. Conscious or not, you knew the sound of your lover and the familiar feeling of giddiness filling out your body. 

The soft, brown tint of his large eyes flickered from your body to your face, anxiety beginning to creep into his body. As much as he wanted to fulfill the fantasy he’d dreamt of for the last few days, he felt terrible. He had your consent of course, but if you lost sleep because of him? Simon would never forgive himself.

He loved the feeling of secrecy as he took you while you rested, the gentle lift and fall of your body as sleep overtook your senses made you look ethereal. The scruffy feeling of his freshly trimmed beard scratched against your temple, causing you to squirm a bit in your sleep. A soft giggly-mumble came from you as Simon pressed a kiss to your head.

The Brits fingers were thick, hardened with callouses after years of training and handling, and as much as you despised his work you loved how thick his hands were. Often times, when he would get overwhelmed you would take him hand and simply kiss the scars that littered his skin. It was unfamiliar to him but welcomed hesitantly. 

When you first brought up the concept of somno, Simon turned his nose away from it harshly. Taking you for his own pleasure without being able to even speak to you? He could never. Part of what got him turned on was hearing the pretty little noises you made. You sat down with him, holding his hand and looking into his eyes as you smiled nervously. 

It took a lot of convincing but he did eventually come around to it. You told him that he had your full consent to do whatever he pleased to your body, as long as you’d let him do it while you were awake. Simple terms and conditions, so it was set in motion. The one thing that irked you is he wouldn’t tell you when he was going to do it, just that he was. 

You didn’t mind, however, as it added to the anticipation that flooded your veins when you thought of it. It added to the fear you felt - a good fear - that your man was going to ravage you within the later hours of the night. A piece of you simply wishes that you could hear when unconscious, because by God did you love his voice.

“This tight cunt… fuck…”

His words were muttered underneath the harshness of his accent as one of his hands reached up, tracing the gentleness of your cheek as his eyes softened. You practically nuzzled into the warmth of his palm, mumbling out his name amidst your sleep as if you knew it was him. The gentle drag of his thumb against the your cheekbone as you sighed out; you were like an ambrosia to him.

“Gunna fuck you so hard, birdie… ain’t gunna be able to stop myself…”

written by storiesbysoup© 2023. I do not condone anyone translating my works and/or stealing them.

[inactivegaz]

i’m scared to see the ending, why are we pretending this is nothing?

[nackrosor]

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?" 

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 

"Wouldn't you like that!" 

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 

"He's single, for all I know." 

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?" 

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 

"I was only-" 

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?" 

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 

[ 2:26 min .]

… 

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

… 

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 

"Y/n?" 

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 

"What's going on?" 

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 

"Nothing! It's all going great!" 

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?" 

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?" 

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?" 

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 

"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 

"No.” 

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly. 

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" 

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 

"Y-You want me to do it?" 

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.” 

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[monsterinmyboxers]

KINKTOBER! day 13. — daddy/sir kink with KÖNIG.

you’ve always found it interesting to hear about what others say about könig. just walking by, hearing his name and instantly paying attention just to see him from their perspective.

as far as they know, könig is a colonel. one who's respected, even feared. tall, strong, skilled, some of the many words used to describe the man. könig is powerful, has authority over those below him.

and while all that is very true, you still find it amusing. because könig is vulnerable, has shaky hands that grip onto you desperately, thinks too much and relies on you to fuck every single one of those thoughts out of his pretty head.

because könig is dependent, you’re his main source of comfort, like when he’s with you he feels all the weight lift off his shoulders.

because könig is submissive, enjoys giving his body to you to do whatever you please, enjoys being stripped of his title.

because könig is yours. so, utterly yours. and he takes advantage of this every time you’re alone.

feeling your dick scrape against his walls has his brain splitting in two, chanting out whichever term came to him first. calling you sir, calling you daddy, each word coming out slurred and wet, drool escaping the corners of his mouth.

he begged, for something, nothing, everything, he couldn’t decide. his surroundings blurred together, as did his senses, cum spurting from his red tip. “daddy— cum, came,” even though he was too late, he couldn’t warn you, he still told you either way. his reaction time had slowed, he couldn’t focus.

he didn’t want to. he wanted to forget, to be mindless, to just feel and not think about it.

and you were surely going to make that happen.

[temeyes]

soap, igalaw mo yung baso,, pls,,,

[ang311ic]

Kyle Gaz Garrick loves to make a mess of you…

He revels in it, it’s cruel but he can’t help himself. The fucked out look on your face, the sheen of sweat that gathers over your naked body, your tousled hair and of course, the breathless sharp mewls that slip uncontrollably from your lips. You trust him enough to let yourself lose that poised front you put up.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He pants against the shell of your ear as he thrusts into you hard once again. “One more, that’s it.” He goads. It’s a lie, you know it is, but you don’t call him out on it. You’re not even sure you’ll be able to do it in this moment, three orgasms later your brain has long been turned into jelly.

“Kyle..” You keen, your voice high and full of desperation. You can feel the coil in your lower belly slowly tightening with every thrust of his hips. The way this going, the coil would soon be snapping, unleashing another wave of pleasure over you. “Please…please.” You moan breathlessly and arch your back, pushing yourself closer to Gaz practically moulding the pair of you together.

“Mhm, I know. It’s a lot isn’t it?” He coos and his hand snakes down your dripping pussy, rubbing small circle on your throbbing clit leaving your mouth hanging open.

“Don’t, please, just, don’t, don’t stop!” You manage to get the words out of your mouth. You can feel yourself getting closer to the brink with every second that slips by, that’s all you can think about now.

“I won’t lovie- wouldn’t dare.” He mumbles soothingly though the hitch in his voice was prominent. He, like you, was approaching the edge but he wouldn’t dare finish before you have. Your pleasure has and always will he his top priority. He stops for a moment, lifting your leg to place it over his shoulder before you could even ask what he was doing he nudges his length back into you. The tip of his cock, brushes against the spongey spot deep inside you, sending waves of please shooting up your spine.

It was almost too much, every part of your body, every sense was overwhelmed. You moaned loudly, squirming under him as the coil inside you finally broke. “Kyle!, I yes- please, like that.” You ramble mindlessly, short gasps for breath escaping between each one.

As soon as he felt you pulse around him he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long. “Good girl, there you go.” His praise was so soft, making you feel even more relaxed in your floaty orgasmic state. Kyle nestles his head in the crook of your neck, the low groan that escapes his lips vibrating against your jugular. He shudders softly as he releases inside you, his own cum mixing with yours.

He rests his body weight against you, tired and desperate to be close to you. He couldn’t help but want to stay here forever, the smell of you filling his senes, the intimate unrestricted skin to skin contact, being close to you.

“Kyle..?” You murmur lazily, the words feeling like molasses from your mouth. “…Are you planning on staying like this forever?”

“Course not.” He says and props himself up on his elbows. The grin that’s plastered over his features makes you slightly nervous about what he has planned. Slowly, his lips kiss down your stomach, trailing a path to your dripping cunt. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

He was not planning on stopping now, you still had a longgg night ahead.

[kaar-ne]

I wonder if he'll catch any fish. I hope so.

[feralforfrank]

NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them. 

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh. 

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close. 

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it. 

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck. 

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood. 

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss. 

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh. 

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall. 

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

previous | next

[visionsofmagic]

“four times” | simon “ghost” riley [m]

masterlist.

⋆ pairing: simon “ghost” riley [cod: mwII] x f!reader

⋆ summary: four times you think about how simon ghost riley will fuck you and one time he actually does.

⋆ wc: 6.7k

⋆ warnings&tags: nsfw, explicit language, flirting, daydreaming/dreaming, mentions of fantasy & kinks, rough!ghost who becomes soft for some time in odd circumstances, f!reader, kissing, licking, biting, oral > f receiving, cums, cursing, superior!ghost, touching, putting one's head down, dirty talk, pet names such as doll, handcuffing, safe word, reader is kind of like a brat, sinsful/unholy things, mentions of love, fluff, a little emotional, jealousy, events happens in a safe zone like a dom. remind me if I missed something. enjoy!

it was not the first time you imagined about it but it was certainly the one you went further 'till it made you stood where you were, looking at the lieutenant's face shamelessly without your control and keeping dreaming about how he would fuck you.

you couldn't tell what made you think such a thing since he was your superior who you should look at a co-worker but it all changed when you joined to the team and got closer with each one of them, especially with ghost who you has spent so much nights in the field now. 

in these nights, you shared so many things, mostly you but ghost became more comfortable around you enough to let you tease him. it was a great development for your relationship. he wasn't like soap at all and for you, no men could be like him. mystery he had alongside his own persona was pulling you to him dangerously. 

maybe, that was the reason why you felt this way about him; wanting him to ruin you from head to toe. 

so, it wasn't a surprising thing when you sat down on the couch, watching ghost and soap organizing and planning how to enter the building secretly.

comparing to others, his body was massive and it began with it.

your mind studied how he could easily carry you. he could move your without any effort onto a higher level and he even could hold you by your ass, raising your body up, caging it between his massive body and a wall, hugging you from the waist and ass.

with the stamina he had on field, he clearly could go for some rounds like that, not putting you down while fucking you like that. you imagined how he would make you undress before fucking you from head to toe but keeping all of his suit on which would make you feel the fabric of his clothes on your skin.

he definitely would talk dirty, explicitly. he had no shame in that situations as you guessed.

as you kept dreaming him fucking you from behind while holding you up only leaving your tips touching the ground as your head hit the wall rapidly. all naked, sweat all over and screaming his name again and agai -

"y/n?" a deep voice you loved to hear said, taking you from your nasty dreams into reality with a blushed face. "are you okay?"

you nodded to your lieutenant. "sorry, sir," you said. "I was thinking about something. what were you saying?"

his eyes that was only visible thing from masked covered face kept looking at you, so, it was soap who answered your question, pointing out the map of the building. "can you stay in here for the mission?" 

looking at ghost one last time, you turned to soap and began to talk about the mission while you continued to feel ghost's heavy eyes on you from time to time.

°

second time was when you were standing on the building with ghost beside you, lying down on the ground on your stomachs, adjusting the snipers in front of you.

lieutenant was looking directly at the high building while you were looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

he had a good physics - a good built body thanks to exercises he was doing all the time. so, while he was lying like this, you could see strong muscles on his back that were visible than before. his arms were covered in black fabric, pointing out his muscular arms under the fabric. you wanted to touch them because your palms aching to feel his muscles under your skin, caressing them slowly while he took all you give him.

while looking at his body, your naughty side took control once again, making you have unholy thoughts about the way his arms could hold your thighs in place while he is standing on his knees right in front of you, his masked curled up only leaving his lips in display to your eyes and some wetness on his lips which you saw twice thanks to having same lunch time. wetness coming out of your bared pussy in front of his face, eating you alive while you hold his shoulders and arms on your thighs that are exposed because of the shortness of night dress you were wearing.

having him between your thighs, seeing him licking, biting and eating your pussy as you only leave moans of his name and how good he is making you was a dream in your head in that moment when a hand waved towards your direction – a hand of no one’s but ghost whose eyes filled with concern and confused looking.

“what are you thinking?” he asked, angry a little bit and you knew damn well why he was angry; the mission was about to start and you were dozing off, giving you danger and ghost probably began to think whether you were ready for the mission or not.

but you took a defensive and determined manner, shaking your head with your hands in sync. “I just got an idea is all, don’t worry, sir, I am ready for the mission.”

his eyes traveled from your face to your lower parts and to your face again and making you flush more in redness. “how copy?” he asked, bossy as ever, deepness in his voice.

“positive, sir.”

“good.” he said, nodding, believing you. “don’t make me carry you from the field, y/n. it is the last thing I want to.”

“don’t you worry, simon.” you smiled, feeling closer thanks to him calling you with your name so intensely. “I am good at this.”

°

third time came sooner than you expected it to be.

the mission was done perfectly, no blood dropped, no one got harmed, the information they had got back from them secretly, not alerting anyone in the building while you and soap stayed in the field and ghost on the rooftop, giving you information and calmness through the mission, especially to you.

after it was done, the team took different cars to go back into the place you were staying at. you were the one who left behind with just one car because you decided to wait for ghost to reach you, leaving the rooftop. it was a habit you had after a dangerous mission you and ghost had in previous times. it began to be more natural each time and no one questioned it, not even you and simon, it was an unspoken and calming gesture you both shared.

while keeping silence, you enter the back of black truck. you took the chair in front of simon because there were no one in the truck expect you to and you believed it would be strange to sit beside him when there were all empty spaces. this was the first mistake you did.

you realized it when simon put down his sniper on the ground when car began to move, driver staying behind the closed black mirror, not giving any sight of you two to him. then, simon put his head to the surface of truck, looking at you with his dark colored eyes – they looked darker than before because of gloomy white lights of the car. they looked at you so intensely that you moved in awkwardness, but not breaking eye contact but it was hard to keep, especially when he opened his legs wider, manspreading, showing off his powerful thighs seamlessly enough to make your face turn into a redness.

he looked damn well with the way he was sitting that your knees began to weaken, ready to shake any moment.

it was so hard not to imagine how could you easily stay on your knees, between his thick thighs, all of his armor on, only half of his face smirking down at you while you took his exposed cock deep inside your mouth, beginning for more and more for him to fuck it roughly, his hands on your hair, caressing gently and roughly at the same time to mess with your already dumb head.

you could guess you would hold his thighs with a strong grip, not wanting to fall onto the ground because of shaking legs he would give to you.

“y/n,” simon said, sounding half ghost who is your lieutenant and half simon who is your friend or crush if you would be honest to yourself. when you looked up to his face, you realized how you were staring at his thighs and well, that particular thing covered but a little visible to eyes. you knew damn well that he caught your staring and the heat raised inside you while you waited him to continue. but he said something you didn’t expect, “you did so well in the field.” he smirked, and you could tell that without even seeing his lips.

“good girl.”

°

it was the fourth time in which you actually took an action while dreaming about it because there was a free time to do whatever you want to do and it was right after the exercise day you shared with ghost and soap together to have fun and useless moment.

flashback

it was an idea coming out from soap, suggesting to share exercise hours while playing a game; the winner in each exercise would ask a question to others – the questions that could be anything including explicit ones to add some spicy to the game as soap said while smiling. thanks to the times you three spent, you knew very well what kinds of question he would ask.

it sounded fun and you nodded, and simon too who you tried not to look at for long times since he was wearing a black t-shirt, leaving his arms exposed and upper body covered with the skinny fabric of it. also he had black cargo pants on. he looked breath taking and you wanted to remove his mask and see his face.

then, it all began; first winner of exercise was soap thanks to the energy he had which would fade away slowly as you guessed. he had no shame and that’s why, he asked a very expected question; which position you like the most.

you rolled your eyes, punching him on the shoulder, “what an unexpected question you asked soap.” however, your calm manner changed when a deep voice came from your behind.

“can’t choose.”

he was standing right behind you as his bigger body swallowed yours. looking back to his face, covered with mask, you blushed. and when he looked down at you with dark colored eyes of his you loved to look at, you turned to soap suddenly who was smirking at simon’s answer.

“how about you, y/n?” soap asked, giving time for you to be comfortable to answer. he added when you stayed silent. “it’s just a game. don’t worry, little one.”

you tried to look confident and while simon’s piercing eyes were opening holes in your back, you shrugged, “classic ones, I guess.”

“classic ones?” soap chuckled, caressing your hair with a friendly manner, “I expected you to have – well, more colorful things than that.”

rolling your eyes, you tried to joke to calm the air down since all you could think simon’s presence and answer – can’t choose, was the thing he said, so, he loved every position. you wondered how many positions he experienced with others and that made your blood boil without your control.

with raising heat and anger on your body, you said to them, feeling sick, “enough with the game. I want to take a shower. you two go on.”

as you made your way you could feel the gazes simon gave to you; confused ones while soap shouted childishly, “but it just started!”

and here you were, sitting on your bed after a fresh shower which helped you to calm down and getting away with the ideas of simon with someone else. jealousy and anger were the things you shouldn’t have since you were being just a brat who had a crush on him. that was all. nothing more.

but when you remembered his answer, your brain began to act on its own; thinking every position simon would fuck you with.

and when it stopped on your favorite on, the doggystyle, not the one you told to soap, your mind blew up, making your hands work on your clit that saught attention. 

it was all dizzy now; you lying down on the bed, one of your hands on your breast while the other one playing with your folds, heavy and pitched breaths coming out of your parted mouth, your white night dress on your body, exposing your breasts alongside with your pussy and thighs.

it was passing midnight and no one were in your floor; soap and simon went outside as soap informed you, captain price and gaz were visiting some important individuals who were friends of captain, so, you were all alone – all alone to do what you wanted to for such a long time; thinking about the lieutenant – his hands, thighs, arms, massive body entirely and especially his cock while having your own pleasure with quilt because he was your superior, boss even, and on the other hand, he was your friend. if only he knew you were lying down on the bed and began to moan his name lowly but since there wasn’t any sound in the floor, it sounded so high for your ears.

when you were about to reach climax, the door knocked, taking you away from your naughty dreams.

with a dizzy mind and annoyed because of not reaching your climax, ache on the stomach, you got up, not minding putting something on to your messy night dress, you just stood behind the door, opening the lock, then the door only to see the mask of ghost, standing with all his glory behind the door with a black hoodie and light blue jeans on. he looked attractive and hot as always. you didn’t know how you could fall for someone without seeing his face but it was the power of simon. you fell for the man for only him, not for his face or position – only for him.

“s-simon?” you asked in surprise because he was the last one you expected to stay behind your door in such hour, especially since he was out with soap doing god knows what.

without saying anything, he just nodded towards the room, asking for a permission to enter.

giving him space to enter the room, you realized which dress you were wearing but it was all too late and simon’s eyes were already on your body, looking at it from corner of his eyes even though you could feel its burning effect, making your cheeks burn and remember what you were doing before he knocked the door.

cursing inside your head, you put your arms around your body with a calm movement, like you weren’t minding being like this in front of your crush – who you were having unholy thoughts recently, you asked, “is there something important, sir? I thought you and soap were outside for fun.”

“yeah?” simon asked in a low tone, making you shiver thanks to deepness of his sound – sounding more than ghost on the field than simon but there was also hints of simon still. “it wasn’t fun.” he added, slowly approaching you, putting a hand on the door, right beside your head, making your back touch door’s surface due to sudden closeness. he caged your body between his and the door. it was hard to breath normally.

“s-sir?”

“I was simon for a second there and now, I am the ‘sir’?” was he doing this on purpose? – the deepness and lustful his sound was making, eyes behind the mask that were only visible thing on his face and closeness. it was different than before.

“would you like me to call you with your name, sir?” you asked, shy as ever but trying to show confidence.

“no,” he shrugged, slowly, looking at your lips for a second for enough for you to catch it and become breathless. “call me whatever you like.”

you tried to chuckle, getting out of his hold, walking toward your bed without looking him back. “is this a joke that soap suggested?” you smiled again, a nervous one because what he was trying to do now was bad news to you; he was giving you a power he shouldn’t – power of being so fucking close to him. “it is not funny.”

you sat down on the bed, arms on your chest still, but the skirt of dress raised up, showing your little exposed thighs to him which you didn’t mind since the topic was different than simply your dress.

ghost leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, making them getting tight through the fabric of hoodie. he also crossed his legs, looking so tall, giving you a sense of being weaker and smaller than him but this only made your stomach twist in excitement. the whole air was heavy and filled with lust. 

“am I looking dumb to you?” he asked, sounding calm even though the question was – odd.

“huh?” you asked, confused. “no, sir, of course not.”

“then why you are acting like I am?” he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he got straighten and started walking towards you. you held your breaths ‘till he stood right in front of you, making you look up to see his face, then, he put his two hands on the bed, caging you in here too.

his nose were touching yours from time to time. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt hot, dizzy and excited.

“thinking I would not notice that gazes you gave me, hm, is that the deal, y/n?” he asked, “I can see though your skull, I can smell raising heat coming from it. standing there, dreaming about me.” his right hand found your left cheek, caressing it slowly, “tell me, doll, how many night you thought about me while touching yourself – like this one.” his mouth reached your ear and you could feel his warm breaths even through the mask, “how many times you moaned my name?”

your mind wasn’t there, no, it was all gone but still, you tried to protest, “s-sir, you are mistaking, I –“

“mistaking? oh,” he straightened up, his massive posture shining with the moon’s dim lights coming from windows. “then, I heard wrong it, maybe, you tried to moan another man’s name, is that it?”

you waved your hands on defense, “no, no!” everything was complex and you knew it was to tell truth in this situation in order to not make it more complex than it already was, so, taking a few deep breaths, you looked at his eyes once again, feeling weak on the knees due to his power, and saying, “it was your name I moaned, sir.”

he tilted his head to left a little, hand on your chin, caressing it gently contrary to the strength he held. “good girl,” he said, making you close your eyes – being called good girl by him was magnificent, and when he continued, it became more than it, “my good girl.” his other hand moved, lifting half of his mask, showing his smirking lips that turned into a straight line. he knelt down, closing the gap between you face and his, nose touching to each other. “don’t lie to me again. will you do it? will you be my good girl like always?”

you nodded, “I will!” you tried to calm down when he smirked again, knowing his dominance on you and proud of it. “I will, sir.”

“then, tell me,” oh he was being such a tease now with the way he was talking – low, deep, full of poison that could be death of you. “what you were moaning for?”

it took some certain seconds for you to answer his explicit question directed right into your face, wanting to get answers of what you were dreaming about him before he came. god knows how great hearing ability he had, catching you calling his name behind the walls. you could swear he stood there for a second to hear your pathetic moans, trying to give yourself pleasure. gulping, you looked half-giant man before you, losing your mind just with it. what it would do to you when you saw him naked? you wished inside, you begged even, to see him naked tonight, on your bed.

“for you, sir.” you gulped again. the room’s temperature was high – so high, like your mind and it wasn’t from a drug, no, it was because of him – simon fucking riley. he was one of his kind, for sure, and you could taste it tonight, maybe just once which made you sad for a moment before seeing him smirking to the answer, waiting for you to continue, giving him something would make him ruin you in the moment. “for your cock.”

“atta girl.” his fingers found the thin strap of your night dress, clinging it. his eyes found yours for a while, getting your approval even if he could see the way you closed your legs together to feel something to calm down your lustful pussy, hardened nipples visible through the dress and heavy – audible breathes. ghost was a beast but simon had the heart of a gentleman. knowing this, you nodded, giving him power over you he sought.

he gave you his hand, you held it, feeling roughness of it that tickles your skin in a funny way, heartwarming even. getting up, you waited for him to remove the dress from your body, letting it collapse into the ground, leaving you naked all over, causing you to have redness from cheeks to knees from here to there.

it was a fantasy for you, one of them really, being naked while he kept all his clothes on, fucking you like that but tonight, you wanted to see him too because it was the first time. you wanted it to be unforgettable forever.

when his eyes and his fingers moved in unison, traveling on your body that began with your face. as his fingers made his ways to your waist, he held it for both of his hands in a second, pulling you into him ‘till your exposed tits hit his chest. you screamed lowly at the sudden action, putting both hands on his shoulders to balance your stance. he didn’t smirk but you could swear he was enjoying this so fucking much from how his hands began to move from your waist to your ass, grapping them and giving gentle squeezes. he knelt down, nose touching nose, “I will give you some times to do whatever you want to do with me,” he put your hair to your ear with his left hand, “then, I will have you with my way.” 

you smirked, getting comfortable each second, gaining your confidence back. “is this a deal, sir?”

“no, pretty, it’s a warning because when I begin to have you with my way, you would not be able to even think what you wanted in the first place,” he smirked a little, “you will be too cock dumb even to think.” 

looking at his eyes carefully for the last time, you nodded, a smile of victory appeared on your face. “I trust you, lt. make me a dumb for your cock as if I've never been.” the moment you finished your sentence, a light exploded inside, and after a second, you were all over him, kissing his lips as your hands on his shoulders tightened in order to gain strength to keep still because his lips were your weakness from now on.

kissing him with the way you wanted the most, your heart reached its own euphoria, encouraging you to move closer – taking actions. so, your hands traveled on his neck, causing him bend more. he opened his mouth wider at the action, letting your tongue clash with his, reaching the taste of it – taste of him.

moaning, you held his hoodie, leaving his lips to remove it. being an obedient man, he let you remove it without saying anything, only looking at your face with his messy and red lips because of the roughness of the kiss you shared.

it was the first time you saw his upper body exposed, showing off his biceps and well built body with a proud looking on his half covered face when he saw the way you literally moaned with the half naked sight of him. “s-simon.” you tried to say, more like another moan of his name when his lips found yours once again, taking back the breath your lungs asked for.

he wasn’t that rough but you knew his kiss would leave puffiness on your lips.

finding you waist again, he made you jump into his arms, holding your body like it was the last thing for him to hold life on his hands. his touches felt both lovely and intense, blurring your mind, wanting to be fucked by him soon enough.

letting your back reach onto the bed gently and slowly while his mouth found your neck, you felt the heat radiating from his chest into yours and you couldn’t help but say, “I didn’t know my time was this limited.” when he began to put permanent licks and kisses on your neck, a hand on one of the breasts as the other one traveled on your thigh. when you remarked his eagerness by saying, “couldn’t wait any longer, huh? I didn’t know you were so into me like I was for you, sir.” he smirked for a second before giving you a rough bite, making your body jump in sudden pain that began to feel like a pleasure thanks to his added kisses. you knew you was right and that knowledge added more confidence and happiness to you. 

as your hand found his nape hair, coming out from the way his mask stayed, you held them tightly when his fingers positioned on your pussy’s enter.

“s-simon!” you said, “please, please, please.” and it took him just put his fingers on the folds of your pussy to make you start to beg for his cock – inside you.

“you sounded so confident now. where is that confidence go?”

you shook your hands in negative way, holding his hair still, waiting for him to stop playing with your folds and enter. “I just want it! please, please –“

“want what?” he teased but he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he entered his fingers into you, two of them as his kisses, licks and bites moved from your neck to breasts – taking his time on there while fucking you with his long and thick fingers, earning low moans from you. he moved to your abdomen, then to your pussy ‘till he reach right into your entrance.

his tongue joined his fingers, eating your pussy, adding third finger, going in and out rapildy, leaving you no choice but close your thighs together to take more pleasure of him because seeing his head between your thighs, pink tongue on the pussy, eyes on your face – challenging you to keep looking at him – at how good his tongue working on your clit. “s-simon!” you moaned again, earning a smack to your ass.

“stay still if you want to cum,” his hands opened your thighs wider, giving him a good view of your messy pussy. he added, “c’mon, be a good girl for me and don’t try to hold it back,” your stomach twisted in pleasure, reaching your climax soon enough. simon said, “cum.” to give permission to you before his tongue reached the deepest it could go when his three fingers entered you deep and rough, you moaned loudly, letting your cum hit his mouth and fingers.

simon didn’t stop at his actions of tongue ‘till he drunk all juicy you made with that hard cum thanks to him.

“s-simon –“ you said again. his name was the only thing your mind could make sense of. “please. need you – need your cock!”

“what a greedy girl you are, still wanting my cock even though you cum so much on my mouth.” he positioned himself on top of you, two hands caged your head between them as he left a little of his weight into yours. your legs opened on their own, hugging his belt, pushing him down to feel his hardened cock on your exposed pussy to seek friction. he chuckled deeply at your weak trying and you waited for a while in order to comprehend the way he chuckled so beautifully – he was so beautiful, not from this world, you believed – he was something else, different than any human and he was all yours now. you wished this magic would never end.

“since I couldn’t wait for your time, I will give you a choice.”

saying hmm in response, you closed your eyes and opened them to gain function of your brain back while simon watched you with sparkles on his darkened eyes. his hot breaths were hitting your face and that was the warmest thing you felt. “what choice?”

“choice of position.” he said, kissing your cheeks and chin, giving you explosions – good ones like fireworks on the night sky, “you didn’t say which position you liked most to soap. say to me, wanna hear it.”

you decided to tell the truth, so, you held his face with both of your palms, putting an innocent kiss to his nose like you weren’t all naked under him, took his fingers and tongue just now, “actually, I don’t care about the position anymore,” you shrugged, “with you, every each of them will be the best.”

that made him tilting his head to left, “you didn’t get my cock but you still believe it will be best.”

you chuckled, “why shouldn’t I? perhaps, it isn’t good, hm?” you challenged him.

he put the last gentle kiss on your lips. then, he left your body, standing on your knees as his hands stopped on his belt, removing it slowly enough to give you another twist on the stomach at the sight of him; half-covered mask on, pink and wet lips because of only you, exposed chest with full of biceps and well built muscles, veins visible on fingers and arms, and thick thighs covered with clothes but soon, would be left as naked as his chest.

“I should make you regret for saying that but tonight, I will take easy on you my pretty girl,” he removed his belt, holding it with one hand, unzipping his pants, taking it off from his body within his black boxers. in addition to his speech – him saying how you were his pretty girl, how he could punish you but choose not to for tonight, your mouth opened wider when you saw his hardened cock, finally free, standing with all its glory right in front of you. it was long and thick – greater than you could imagine in those naughty dreams of you. 

he knelt down again after giving you a time to acknowledge his cock, aching to enter you all way in. you looked at his eyes, full of danger and lust that pointing out his further actions, “so, enjoy it while you can because I will never be this merciful again.”

wait, he was saying that this would go on – that this wasn’t just one night thing? – you thought to yourself in pure disbelief but it all gone when he spun your body, making your face touch the surface of the bed’s sheets. feeling his chest on your back, you growled – his weight on you only made you eager than before and when his hands found yours, you felt cold sense of his belt. he was handcuffing you with his goddamn belt he took off and you only stayed still, a great idea of comiting a sin with simon looked thrilling and you didn’t move even when he checked out whether you could move your hands or not.

yes, you imagined him fucking you but this – this was beyond it. he was breaking all the norms you expected him to have and you couldn’t deny the feelings he gave to you – both sinfully coming right out of hell and fireworks made from the expression of beauty and innocence from a clear sky.

“y/n,” simon said, for time calling you with your name after you started making out. it felt closer than ever this time, so, you looked at his face with pure love, seeing him getting softer. “do you need a safe word? we can make one if you –“

“no,” you said, calm to give him guarantee, “with you, I don’t need one, simon.”

with your reply, his soft and thoughtful side seemed to give its place to the one whose intentions were to fuck you hard. you realized you loved both of them because they were all simon – your simon.

maybe it was wrong to call him as yours but when his hand found your neck, positioning your head into the sheets as his other hand found your thighs after lifting your ass higher, opening them wide open with the helps of his knees, it felt so right – you were his before even knowing and from now on, you had no complain being called as his as well as him being called yours.

you moaned when his cock’s tip positioned on your entrance, giving you a second to breath in and out. then, his cock entered inside with a rough thrust, making your body bounce because of the impact. your head nearly hit the headboard, moaning loudly some mindless things like begs, praising, and so on.

it felt so good – so right; the way his hand traveled on your waist, positioning you in one piece in order to make it stay still, not bouncing each time he trusted deeply and roughly. he indeed had a good strength and stamina within a great speed, you realized it now more than before.

as his thrusts made their way right into your walls, your moans were so loud that if someone just walk pass by your door, they could easily hear you moaning and screaming your lieutenant’s name shamelessly, as if it was the one thing you knew, maybe it was.

“s-simon –“ you tried to say with a messy mind, “if someone comes, they will – “ you took heavy breaths, his balls hitting you, his weight on yours hard to endure, “they will hear us!”

simon’s grip on your waist tightened, probably leaving marks that would last for a few days but he didn’t seemed as he mind it at all while he kept fucking you hard, giving your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

his cock were reaching your stomach and you knew you could see it if you looked at your abdomen. his hot breathes joined your moans and when he hugged your abdomen and breasts with two of his hands, making your back hit his chest. this new position made his cock reach deep down of your pussy, giving you painful but pleasure thrusts. from the tips of your fingers that were handcuffed, you felt his tightened biceps. giving them little touches, you heard simon curse under his breath.

reaching to your ear, he said, “scream my name more. if anyone pass by this door, I want them to hear whose cock you are taking and how it made you a cock dumb.” his thrusts became messy but their deepness were still there due to the new position. “maybe I should fuck you in shared office even. that would definitely make them hear your filthy moans. want that?”

he bit your neck, leaving your body onto the sheets once again, holding your thighs as he stayed without moving, only his hands. he was literally using your body like a lightweight toy. he was just moving your body back and forth without any movement, fucking you like this, proving the power he held because it was hard to move your body rapidly and roughly just to fuck you and he was doing it as it meant nothing to him.

you felt like a doll under his touch with the way he began to fuck you but it only made you reach another climax in an instant, being his doll – his slut he used for his cock in bed came wonderful to your ears.

“would my pretty girl like it? showing how she belongs to me who begs for my cock – who dreams of it every fucking night ‘till she gains it.”

“yes, yes, yes!” you screamed, “please, simon! let me cum, please, please, please –“

there wasn’t any sound including your own. it was only him. therefore, when his deep voice finally said, “cum. cum to my cock.” you cum undone in a second, letting your juicy pouring to his cock and onto the sheets from there.

you cum too high and hard but you had courage to say, “simon,” to him one last time before nearly fainting, “cum inside. I want you – I need you to cum inside.”

he lost balance of his thrusts that were going in and out softer now, and when he regained his balance, he only began to fuck you rougher this time, heavy breaths and curses came out of him ‘till he reached his own climax, cumming deep inside, feeding you with his hot seed.

it was better to feel his cum than your own.

putting your forehead into the bed, taking deep breaths to finally reaching what you wished for, you let simon took his cock off of you, letting his seed coming from inside to your folds, thighs and sheets – a beautiful sight to your eyes. he also removed his belt, kissing your chin that were hurting but with his lips, you wanted to be handcuffed more by him if he would keep kissing you like this afterwards.

your body collapsed onto the bed. looking at his still half-hardened cock and juicy on him – both his and yours, you moaned lowly, “simon.”

he put a hand beside your head, other one caressing your hair after pulling them out of your face, he kissed your forehead. “just rest, you need it.”

“I don’t need a rest.” you said, “I need you.”

he looked a bit confused, asking, “you want round two? I didn’t know you were such a greedy for it.”

you chuckled at his tease. “I would want it still even when we do it for a hundredth time, but, no.” your hand found his mask, not pulling it out, just holding it. “I want you, simon – just you.”

he looked surprised for a while, adjusting what you said. you could see how hard he was trying to hide his emotions under the mask but you knew him damn well, realizing it was the thing he wanted as well as you.

he nodded, holding the hand you touched to his mask with, putting a kiss to the fingers. his hands stayed on his mask and you felt an urge to say, “you don’t have to remove it. I will wait for the moment you believe as the right one. just come here,” you showed other half of the bed after leaving him enough space to fit. “and let me kiss you all night. don’t expect me to forget the deal you broke tonight.”

to get his normal self, not the one who was emotional and showing it, he just nodded, smiling little, “you don’t forget a thing, y/n.”

“of course, I don’t! it is about you after all.”

chuckling at your own answer, you watched simon leave his mask as it was; half-covered, lying on the bed, giving you his arm for you to put your head to but you choose his chest.

calming in his arms he hugged you with from the waist, you smiled. “let’s stay for a while. then, we can bathe to clean up.”

he nodded, “together?”

you tried to hide your blushed face with a hit on his chest, “simon!”

he shrugged, a ghost smile on his face as he closed his eyes at the feeling radiating both of you. “definitely together.”

the end.

[callsign-bunnie]

Rodolfo: Hey, I cooked so I'm just waiting for you to get home.

Alejandro, who just lost a bet to Soap and Ghost and now has to do this on a dare: what's for... what's for dinner, bitch? *shaking*

Rodolfo: *silence*

Rodolfo: *more silence*

Soap: Hey, I think it's gonna be fi-

Rodolfo: *angry Spanish screaming*

Everyone: ...

Ghost: I don't speak Spanish but I don't think he's saying what's for dinner

Valeria: I do and he is not.