Tumgik
#I FORGOT THE WORD FOR BALACLAVA
xiaoluclair · 11 months
Text
max: [pulling off his balaclava after a race]
charles: mamma mia
pierre: here we go again
609 notes · View notes
postmortemnivis · 22 days
Text
nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.
that was until your worried voice called for him.
you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.
“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”
“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”
you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.
“who’re you looking for?”
you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”
“ghost?”
you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”
“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”
“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”
you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint –or two– with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.
"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.
"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."
you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.
you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.
you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?
"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.
his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.
"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.
you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.
he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.
"love?" he called you.
still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.
"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.
"ghost?"
he shook his head. "simon, love."
"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.
he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.
you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.
this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.
he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.
4K notes · View notes
sm8th0p · 1 year
Text
date - simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader
Tumblr media
a/n: you have no idea how much I LOVE medic!reader so this is my spin on it 🕺🕺🕺 and like private but not secret relationship with simon holy shit I live for that shit
desc: poor guy unknowingly hitting on the lieutenant’s lovely wife
warnings: descriptions of wound/gash, slight foul language
Tumblr media
You were nose deep in your paperwork when the doors to your office opened, making you whip your head to look at the intrusion. You body relaxed at the sight of Ghost and Soap, casually walking to your desk. Tilting your head a bit, not noticing that either of them were injured so it confused you why they were visiting the medbay.
“Is everything alright?” You asked, looking up from your seated position to look at your behemoth of a husband. “Yeah. Jus’ wanted to see you.” He said softly, palms on the desk and slightly leaning over it. “And what’s Soap doing here?” You tilted your head to see the man behind the lieutenant, busy with his phone. Ghost crossed his arms and you could feel his annoyance radiating off his stance from the corner of your eye.
“Aye, doc.” Soap greeted you as he lifted his gaze from his phone. “I’m just tagging along, got some questions to ask L.t.”
“Should’ve asked during the damn briefing.” He said, tilted his head a bit to glare at the sergeant. You knew how much your husband hated it when people interrupt the times you guys were together, since the chance to spend time with just you were rare in the chaos that happened everyday in the base. Sometimes you were confused if he was annoyed or jealoused.
“I forgot, alright..” Soap pursed his lips and scooted away a bit, to give you and Ghost some privacy. Not a lot of people knew about your marriage with Ghost, but they know you were married by the beautiful ring on your ring finger. Only the task force knew and over time, they learned the silent queues to give the both of you some space and you were incredibly grateful for that.
Ghost placed his left palm on the table and leaned in slightly, eyes laser focused on your face. “What is it, Si?” Your tone was heavy with exhaustion as Ghost looked down at you, and you could see his eyebrows furrowed a bit under the balaclava he wore.
“Your shift ends in a bit, right?” He brought a hand to gently cup your jaw. You nodded. “I want to take you out for dinner. You need a break, love.” He said, voice hushed as he took in your tired eyes. There was a moment of silence as you lowered you gaze to the papers on your table, before looking back at him.
“Is Soap coming along too?” You teased, fighting a smile. “God no.” He replied right after the words left your mouth. You laughed before continuing, “It’s a date then.” A grin formed on your lips. “It is.” You felt his warm lips over the mask as he kissed your forehead, before joining Soap to sit in one of the empty patient rooms to wait for you. The door to the room was open, so you could hear a faint conversation and Soap’s laugh while you continued your paperwork.
Not five minutes later, the doors to the medbay opened again and a soldier walked in, clutching his hand. You looked up from the paperwork and your eyes widened slightly at the blood on his hands. “What happened?” You immediately stood up and walked over to him, guiding him to sit in an empty room right beside your husband’s.
“Accidentally cut my hand open while working in the garage. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You were sitting in front of him, his palm in your hands as you carefully inspect the gash. Your eyebrows furrowed at how calm and nonchalant his tone was, so you looked up from his palm to see he was slightly smiling at you.
“You look oddly happy for a person with a bloody hand.” You quipped before turning around, collecting a few items from the cabinet behind where you sat. The man looked down and laughed, and you could hear how- bashful it sounded. “I feel fine, doc. Like I said, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” He replied, and you can hear a hint of smug in his voice.
You playfully shook your head at him as you sat back down. The fact that he wasn’t brooding over the injury really calmed the tension, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit off. “Thankfully the cut wasn’t that deep, so you don’t need stitches. A few bandages will do.” He nodded, but you felt his gaze on you.
You shifted in your seat, ripping open an antiseptic wipe to clean the wound. “This is going to sting a bit.” You said as you held the wipe.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” The way he tried to sound cool had you cringing. The second you place down the wipe on the wound, you heard a faint hiss and you let out a huff that resembled a laugh. “You can, huh?” You met his gaze and he avoided it by looking to the side with an embarrassed grin.
A few moments of silence later, the soldier spoke up. “Say, doc,” You hummed, focused on throwing away the wipe once you were done sterilising the wound.
“What would you say if I uh- if someone asked you out? Asking for a friend.”
Your face was out of his sight since you were looking down on his palm, so he didn’t see you blinked slowly as you figured out why he was trying so hard to impress you. Suddenly you were aware that the chatter in the next room had gone silent, and you just knew that they were listening.
You looked up to see a faint red hue on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let out another huff of laughter at the sight. “Did you purposefully got this wound to see me for that?” You asked jokingly as you started to wrap his palm in gauze. “Woah, no. ..but I would, if it meant I could see you again.” People asking you out wasn’t something uncommon to you, but his confidence baffled you in a way. If only he knew who you were married to.
You decided to play along, curious to know where this would lead. “Does this friend of yours.. know that I’m married? I don’t keep it a secret, you know.” You said as you raised your hand to show an outline of a ring beneath the latex gloves. He didn’t say anything for a bit, eyes focused on the ring as he kissed his teeth.
“But your husband is not here, is he? A pretty girl like you deserves to be treated somewhere nice, doc. I can take you out, tonight.” He uttered.
You felt your eye twitch and heard the chairs in the next room scraped against the floor. You tugged a bit on the gauze, making sure it’s secure. At this point you were almost done with him, so you look up to meet his gaze, but what you saw behind him made the excitement in your body skyrocket.
Thank god his back was facing the doorway, because there stood Ghost, arms menacingly crossed across his broad chest, leaning on the doorframe. Soap was beside him, his phone out and presumably recording the unfortunate moment. He even had a palm over his mouth desperately trying to supress his laughter.
An idea sparked in your head, you pursed your lips in a thin line and looked down for a bit, before meeting the soldier’s eyes again. “You think I’m pretty?” You replied in a low tone. God, you felt the goosebumps travelling all over your back, cringing so, so hard. He nodded eagerly and muttered, “So pretty.”
“…Thank you, but I don’t know.. I already have a date tonight.” You feigned innocence and tilted your head. “Really?,” he scoffed. Judging from his reaction, you assumed he thought that another soldier at the base already asked you out. Well, he was right. “Who’s the lucky fella? Is it the new private?” You playfully shrugged. “It’s him, right? he told me you rejected him..”
A bubble of laughter erupted from your stomach, both from his reply and the way Ghost stood behind him. Ghost knew well how much you liked to tease him and he’s fighting the urge to just grab the soldier and punch a hole into his goddamn face. The soldier furrowed his eyebrows, lips tugged in a confused half-smile.
“No, no not with the private. With my husband, actually. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Your gaze now landed on the figure behind the soldier, and he turned around quickly and looked up to meet Ghost’s blood curdling glare. “..L-lieutenant,” He greeted in a mix of respect and pure horror. More of the latter.
You knew Soap’s phone got a crystal clear view of the colours draining out of the poor soldier’s face, making a mental note to watch it later. His eyes widened and you could see how frigid his body had turned as Ghost walked over to your side.
“That’s right. In fact, I think we might be late for the reservation. You’re almost done, love?” He said softly to you, before enunciating the last word while looking straight into the soldier’s soul. His adam’s apple shifted as he gulped down the terror.
You nodded cheerily, releasing the soldier’s bandaged hand before standing up and walking over to the doorframe. “Alright, my nurse will inform you how to take care of the wound. It will take about a week to fully heal, so be careful. Take care, soldier.” You said with a bubbly tone before exciting the room to get ready to end your shift.
Now he was alone with the lieutenant in the room, minus the borderline-laughing sergeant behind the doorframe. Ghost said nothing as he continued to glare fucking daggers into the soldier and seeing him squirm in the seat, waiting for the nurse. He felt cold sweat run down his spine, eyes wide and trying hard to not look at the lieutenant’s gaze. The pure awkwardness and realisation of ‘I just hit on the lieutenant’s WIFE’ made him wanted to faint.
The tension was soon cut through like a knife by Ghost himself, his deep voice bouncing off the walls. “Rest up, soldier. You have a long day tomorrow.” He said sternly as he left the room. As if he took the pressure out with him, the soldier finally let out a deep breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.
A faint “beep” and a laughter was heard outside of the door, making the scared-shitless soldier turn around in his seat. Soap peeked his head and looked at him, a grin on his face. “You fucked up, lad. Better warn the private too, if I was ya’. An’ your whole squad. Best of luck.” He spoke in amusement before walking off to find you and Ghost and letting the soldier drown in his shithole of despair.
6K notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
Nice shot
Summary: What happens when, in a moment of absent-mindedness, you accidentally slingshot your hair tie straight in Ghost’s eye as he briefs you and the team on a critical mission?
Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Word count: 1,149
Notes:
Platonic(ish?) fluff *wink wink*
I admit the following fic could have easily ended up into something spicy, but I wasn’t feeling it when I wrote it so
Want more?
———————————————————————
You’re all seated around a large wooden table in the centre of an otherwise empty room, illuminated only by a flickering projector suspended from the ceiling.
Ghost stands at the head of the table with his back to a projected image of a wanted fugitive. His signature skull balaclava casts an eerie shadow over his face as he speaks, describing the mission’s objectives, the obstacles you’ll face, and the risks involved.
“Our objective is clear,” he says as he walks around the table. “We must take out a high-value target and retrieve vital intelligence.” 
“Alpha Team will establish a perimeter around the target’s refuge,” he explains, “while Bravo will execute an aerial rooftop landing.”
But, despite your lieutenant’s confident demeanour, you emit the exact opposite. The upcoming mission is dangerous, and anxiety gets the best of you. Your mind begins to race as you consider the implications and the impact it might have on your job and—worse—on your life.
As the briefing continues, it becomes increasingly difficult for you to sit still. You find yourself absentmindedly twisting a hair tie around your fingers. It was a nervous habit you picked as a child, a coping mechanism for whenever you felt overwhelmed. 
You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, but they are useless. So you continue to tangle that hair tie in your fingers as if trying to imitate the knots you feel in your stomach.
Stretching, twisting, turning it around… 
Stretching, twisting, turning it around… 
Stretch-
The hair tie suddenly slips from your grasp and flies across the table, slingshotting towards Ghost’s face and striking him square in the eye.
You’ve just hit one of the most notorious and feared lieutenants with a hair tie. 
The enigma of Task Force 141. Your superior. In the eye. With a hair tie. During a briefing. For a critical mission.
Gasps fill the room as everyone shifts their attention from the lieutenant to you, then back. Your heart drops to your stomach. What have you done?
You brace yourself for his reaction. 
Ghost, however, does not react; he doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he kneels, picks up the hair tie, places it in his pocket, and resumes the briefing. Everyone is silent but as stunned by his reaction as you are.
You sink into your chair and take as little space as possible. As Ghost continues, you try to forget the incident, focusing on the mission’s details. However, concentrating is challenging since you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you. You turn to look at Soap, who mouths an inaudible “you’re fucked” as he looks at you dumbfounded.
The briefing ends, and everyone begins to pack up their stuff. You grab your belongings and dash for the door. Perhaps Ghost forgot about it. Maybe he brushed it aside. You wouldn’t find it surprising if he didn’t even notice who—
“Y/N, report to my office in 10.” He commands as he fills out the attendance form without looking at you.
Well, shit.
As you approach the lieutenant’s office, your heart is racing. Worry and embarrassment are fighting within you to see which emotion can make you feel the worst. You try to make up excuses to explain what happened, but what is there to explain? Scenarios fill your mind—bad ones. You might get heavily penalised. You could even lose your job. Not only that, but the thought of being chewed out by the lieutenant is enough to make you break out in a cold sweat. 
The hallway walls seem to close in; the fluorescent lights shine straight into your eyes, making you feel dizzy. Each step feels like you’re getting closer to your execution. 
The door to the office stands before you, and you pause, gathering your courage. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and knock on the door.
“Enter!” Ghost shouts from the other side of the door.
You push the door open and step into the room. Your heart threatens to escape your chest.
The room is small, and the only furnishings are a worn-off desk with a pair of hard-backed chairs. The lieutenant sits at the desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest; his gaze feels like a spear that pins you in place. He makes you feel like a bug under a microscope. Your legs feel unsteady. 
“Take a seat,” he says, motioning with a flick of his wrist to the chair across from him. You settle into the chair as he orders. The leather creaks beneath you, and you nervously twist your fingers in your lap. Thank God you don’t have that hair tie in your hands. 
Ghost leans back in his chair, never breaking eye contact. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here,” he murmurs. Even now, he’s been sarcastic.
You lower your gaze, avoiding to meet his eyes; your mouth is too dry to speak. He seems to understand your nervousness but continues anyway. 
“Nice shot,” he says with a chuckle. “Not many can catch me off guard like that.” Despite his concealed expression, you can hear the smile in his tone. 
You sit there shocked. You expected a stern lecture, but instead, he is having a laugh.
“I-I’m so sorry, sir—it was an accident.”
But Ghost waves his hand and dismisses your apology. “Next time, please use that aim on the battlefield,” he replies. “Just make sure to aim at the enemy; I won’t be accepting any more friendly fire from you.”
You chuckle, the tight knot in your stomach slowly unravelling.
“You’re dismissed,” he says softly, and you thank him for understanding.
As you grasp the door handle, you turn to face him again. “Lieutenant Riley,” you say, “may I please have back my hair tie, sir?”
He shakes his head. “Negative, soldier,” he replies, his focus shifting to his computer screen. “Who knows what else you might attempt with that deadly weapon of yours?” 
You shrug it off. Who cares anyway; you have plenty of “deadly weapons” in your vanity kit. 
You take one last look at Ghost as you close the door. His eyes smile as they lock with yours, and he gives you a wink. He retrieves your hair tie from his pocket and begins stretching, twisting, and turning it around.
———————————————————————
3K notes · View notes
1-ker0sene-1 · 2 months
Note
Would you consider writing for a reader with face blindness and the other ways they have to identify the boys with?
Like whenever they just freshly walk into a room the reader has to stare at them for a moment until they say something or until they spot the part of them they use to identify them, then they get all happy to see them.
I just think it’d be really cute and face blindness is never a disability I see anything for, it lacks a lot of representation but affects a lot of people. Living with face blindness is a serious struggle, because even if someone is family, they’ll always wear the face of a stranger
{I don't mind at all! I did have to do a little research, as I personally was pretty curious at how somebody with this disability sees faces. If I got anything wrong please let me know! ♥️ As always I hope you're having a lovely day anon♥️}
Price
It took John some getting used to. Not that he doesn't try to accommodate, he just often forgets you don't see the way he does. He's so caught up in loving on you, he doesn't really mind whether you see him. So when he's meeting up with you on dates, coming over to sit at the table where you're already waiting for him.
Seeing that pretty face of yours contort into confusion and even a bit of nervousness makes his brows raise.
"I um.. I'm waiting for someone-"
You mumble out to what you assume may be a stranger.
"Are you now Darlin'?"
John chuckles, reaching to hold your hand from across the table. Lifting it to kiss your knuckles, blue eyes softening at you.
"I'm right here."
Gaz
Kyle would get used to it pretty quickly, trying to find ways for you to recognize him easily. Fuck he'll wear a goddamn cat collar if you ask him to. He won't want you to feel bad for it either.
"You don't need to see me lovie.. you know me. You feel me. And you've done a hell of a job loving me."
He mumbles, if you still feel bad- he'll take your hands and place them on his face. Telling you to just close your eyes and feel.
Anytime he sees the confusion starting in your eyes he tilts his head and cheekily tells you.
"The best boyfriend-"
"Kyle!"
He grins when he gets to watch your reaction to him. It's kind of ethereal.. He gets to see in real time the love bloom across your features. It hits him to, just falls for you everytime he sees it.
Soap
Luckily, Johnny can never really sneak up on you, purely cause he can't keep his mouth shut around you. He didn't even know for the longest time before you outright told him of your disability. He always calls out first, with that Scottish accent and slang, he's pretty recognizable. Between his call outs of-
"Bonnie!"
"Aye there's my lass.."
"Where you ofta' hen?"
Followed by being swiftly scooped up or pulled into his arms. You will have to explain the condition, he's gonna ask questions. Not that he has any doubts, he's just incredibly curious at how you see the world. He'll listen to every word as you describe it, holding your hand to his cheek. Your thumb brushes over the scar on his chin.
Ghost
Personally I believe Simon would be the most effortlessly accommodating. As soon as he finds out you have this disability, he finds a pretty good solution in his eyes. His balaclava. Not many wear a skull balaclava in fucking daylight. So often he wears it until you at least see him, just so you don't panic and can somewhat recognize him better. Then he'll slip it off.
There's maybe a couple times he doesn't wear it. Most likely he just forgot, arriving home. His stealth can sometimes be a curse when you can't recognize him. Poor doll. Nearly jumped out of your skin seeing some big guy in the corner of the room.
"Fuck- it's me love- jus' me."
He does feel bad about it. But the way your eyes light at his voice never fails to make him smile. Tugging you into his arms. Mumbling an apology for scaring you as he kisses across your skin.
700 notes · View notes
sinkovia · 2 months
Text
Regretful bets
Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Fluff with light angst
You gaze at the picture of your late parents, a bittersweet reminder of how far you've come. It's been alittle over a year since you joined the task force, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you. Although you didn't have your family anymore, you'd found a new one within the task force. In the rec room, a small celebration was underway, the team reveling in the success of their recent mission.
The guys decided to buy some drinks and engage in a game of pool. You sat on the couch, focused on some paperwork when Ghost took a seat next to you and handed you a drink.
"Supposed to be celebrating, love, not buried in paperwork," his words and close proximity making your heart flutter. You've held an interest in Ghost since you joined the task force, but you never tried to pursue it, believing he wasn't the type for relationships.
"I know, I just wanted to finish up, get it out of the way. These reports for the last mission have been kicking my ass." You took a sip of your drink.
"I can help you with it if you'd like."
You hesitated, surprised by his offer. "Oh no, it's okay. I know you have your own report to do."
Ghost leaned a bit closer to you, "I've already finished mine. I can teach you a thing or two about getting them done faster."
"Really? I mean, yeah, I'd appreciate that."
"Maybe we can meet over dinner?"
Your mind raced as you processed his words. Was this a friendly gesture or something more? "These files can't leave the base," you reminded him.
"Right, I forgot. Well, we can get dinner and then work on the report after. How does that sound, love?"
Your face heated up, and you stammered out a response, "That sounds good."
"It's a date then. I'll come get you tomorrow at 8." Ghost got up and left the rec room, leaving you in a state of utter disbelief. You rushed to your room and squeezed your pillow, excitement and anticipation swirling inside you.
Ghost took you to a cozy restaurant in town, and over dinner, you discovered his love for telling awful puns. Surprisingly, you found them funny, and the lighthearted atmosphere made the evening even more enjoyable. After your meal, you pulled him to a small traveling carnival nearby where you both played games and he won you a few plushies. As you made your way back to the base, you stood in front of your door.
"We never got to the report," you mentioned with a laugh.
"Maybe we can do them after lunch tomorrow?" Ghost was leaning against the doorframe, he was close, his arm casually resting on the frame above you. You smile as your eyes met his. Breath caught when he lifted his balaclava, leaning in to plant a sweet, soft kiss on your lips, his smile lingering as he pulled away.
"How does that sound, love?"
You smiled as you turned around to unlock your door, looking back for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow at 4," you said, noticing the wide smile on his face before closing the door, leaving you to get ready for bed. You lay there, smiling, thinking about how sweet he was, nothing like you'd initially imagined. A week later, Ghost officially asked you out, and you had been dating since. A month in a half passed and you couldn't be happier.
You often stayed up late with him, soothing his insomnia, running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, making tea for him in the mornings. Many nights, you'd stay up together, talking until you saw the sunrise. You were always there for him. You were walking to price's office when you saw graves walking out of it. He smiled as he approached you.
"Sargeant I was just looking for you." you furrowed your brows a bit in confusion, why would graves be looking for you.
"Is everything okay sir?"
"Price tells me that you're one of his best shots with a sniper."
You blushed slightly, proud of Price's words. "He flatters me," a smile gracing your face.
Graves was quick to get to the point, "I want you to join my Shadow Company."
Your smile faded, and you hesitated, "What? I mean thank you for the offer sir but I can't. I'm part of 141. This is my home. I've built a family here."
Graves looked disappointed but still gave you a nod, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Well, the offer is still open if you change your mind. We leave tomorrow morning."
You and ghost just slept together for the first time since you started dating. You lay on his chest, tracing small circles on his chest while he combed his fingers through your hair. Your stomach grumbled, and you shifted your head to look at Ghost, who appeared lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Ghost's eyes met yours as he kissed your forehead. "I'm okay love, just hungry."
"Me too. Want to get some takeout for us?"
"Yeah, let me get dressed."
You grabbed one of Ghost's shirts, throwing it on as you watched him get dressed. He gave you a kiss before heading out. Your eyes go to his wallet on your night stand and you throw on a pair of sweats before running after him. Ghost was walking down the hallway when he bumped into Soap.
"Listen Johnny, about the bet-" Soap laughed, handing over the money from his wallet.
"Bloodly hell Ghost, you finally slept with her? You were cutting it close. You had a week left." Soap was still laughing when he glanced behind Ghost and cursed under his breath, quickly walking away. Ghost slowly turned around and furrowed his brows when he saw you.
"Fuck, Y/n, it's not what you think,"
"You were only with me for a bet?" Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at him.
"Love, please let me explain." He took a step closer, but you stepped back.
"Don't call me that. Just answer the fucking question." Your voice trembled with anger and disbelief.
Ghost's eyes were desperate as he tried to explain, "No– I mean, yes, Johnny bet me 200 if I could sleep with you within two months, but I swear to you that—"
"200 dollars? That's what I was worth? Everything I did for you was worth throwing it all away for 200 dollars?" You threw his wallet at his chest.
"Y/n please, I love—"
"I hate you." Tears streamed down your face as you turned away. Ghost reached out to grab your hand, attempting to stop you from walking away.
"Don't fucking touch me. I don't ever want to see you again."
You walked away, and Ghost stood there, watching your retreating figure until you disappeared around the corner. His gaze fell to his wallet on the floor, and a polaroid of you two together slipped out. He picked it up, looking at your face, you were both in the middle of laughing when price had taken the picture. The realization of his mistake hit him like a truck.
"Fuck."
You began packing you things, throwing them all in your duffle bag. You picked up the small seal plushy that ghost had won for you on your first date. You leave it on the bed with all of the pictures you had of him next to it. You walk down the hallway and make your way over to graves temporary office. You gently knock before opening the door. You see him gathering some papes and his gaze meets yours. He sees the puffiness in your eyes.
"Is everything okay Y/n?"
"If your offer is still open I would like to join your company." Graves is thrown off by your eagerness as earlier today you had told him you couldnt. He didnt question it, he smiled and handed you patch.
"We leave in an hour." you nod and walk out of his office.
The weight of regret bore down on Ghost, a heavy burden he couldn't shake as he thought back on the time you had spent together. Somewhere along the line he stopped pretending. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with you. He should have told Soap the deal was off a long time ago, he should have never taken the bet in the first place. He made a promise to himself to talk to you tomorrow; he didn't want to approach you while you were still so angry.
But that night was sleepless for Ghost. The absence of your presence in his bed left it feeling colder...emptier. When morning arrived, he mustered the courage to approach your door, knocking gently. No answer. He knocked again, and still, you didn't respond. He called out your name, pleading, but the silence was deafening.
Concern gnawed at his insides and slowly he twisted the doorknob. His heart sank as the door opened fully, revealing your empty room. His eyes fell upon the plushie and polaroids on your bed.
No. No, no, no. He refused to believe you were gone.
Panicking, he rushed into Price's office without knocking. Price’s brows furrow in confusion as Ghost asked, "Where is she?"
"She didn't tell you? She joined Graves' shadow company. She left with them this morning."
Ghost slumped on Price's couch, feeling like his heart had been torn out. You had left the task force, the place you had worked so hard to be a part of, all because of him. Regret and guilt washed over him as he realized the enormity of his mistake. You made him happy, and you both could have had a happy life together. He sat there, wondering what might have been if he had only made different choices.
Two years later...
You were inside alejandros base when you heard graves yelling and gun shots in the garage. You made your way out and froze in your tracks when you saw Graves zip tying alejandros hands together.
What the fuck is happening?
A bullet whizzed past your face, grazing your cheek, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. You turned to see Ghost pointing a gun at you from behind a vehicle. Time seemed to slow as your eyes locked onto his, a mix of surprise and recognition in his gaze. His eyes grew wide as they trailed over your face. For a moment, you both remained frozen in place. But before either of you could react, two shadows tackled Ghost, ziptying his hands behind his back. Your eyes never left him as they dragged him and Alejandro into the base
What. The. Fuck.
You walk up to Graves as he's calling for his men to chase after soap who ran away.
"Whats happening?" He smiled patting your shoulder.
"It's nothing, go back inside and make sure our shadows get them to their cells."
You turned around quickly walking towards Alejandro's cell block, you didn't know why graves betrayed the 141. You had just been working with them.
You had asked Graves if he could put you on comms as you didnt want to see them in person. Thankfully you never had to directly talk to Ghost. Two years had passed but the ache was still as present as ever. You watched as they threw Ghost into the cell, shutting it behind him. He was being treated in a manner that should have left you feeling satisfied, but instead, a sense of unease gnawed at you. You couldn't help but be bothered by the way they threw him in the cell. As the days passed, you found yourself unable to resist the urge to walk by his cell, day after day, a silent presence in his world.
What the hell were you doing?
You walked past his cell door when you heard Ghosts voice from the other side.
"Y/n."
You froze in your tracks, how the hell did he know it was you. The doors didn't have windows.
"How did you know?" there was a long pause before he spoke.
"I know the sound of your walk."
Your feet seemed to move of their own accord, taking you to the front of his door. Without a second thought, you unlocked it and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. His eyes were on you as you entered, and in those moments, you felt an overwhelming sense of longing. You tried your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but your eyes, you knew, were betraying you. In those lingering gazes, you both shared a deep longing, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that still lingered between you.
"You're so beautiful."
"Did soap bet you 20 to say that?" his eyes went from yours to the ground as the words left your lips.
"Y/n I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I should have never taken the bet. You didn't deserve that."
"You broke my heart Ghost," your voice quivering with the weight of your emotions. "I...I loved you so much, and you didn't even care about me."
Ghost's eyes widen, and he stands up, walking toward you. You instinctively take a step back, and soon, you're backed up against the cell door. He reaches out and cups your face, his taller frame towering over you. You meet his intense gaze with tears in your eyes.
"I loved you so much, I still do," he confesses. Tears streaming down your face, your heartache and longing were laid bare for him to see.
"Liar." You choked out.
Ghost's voice wavered as he tried to explain, "I promise you, after I asked you out, I started to fall for you. I loved you, y/n, with my whole heart. My life was so dull, and I've suffered every day without you by my side since you left. My biggest regret was not telling Soap that the deal was off." You looked up at him, shaking your head as tears continued to fall. His words were filled with regret.
"Ever since you left, the only thing I could think about was the life that we could have had together. The life that slipped away because I was stupid." You buried your face in his chest, overwhelmed with emotion, as you sobbed in his arms. He held you tight, his hand running through your hair.
"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret.
You pushed your head back slightly to meet his eyes, your own voice trembling with emotion. Not even five minutes with him after two years being apart and you already caved into him.
"Promise me, Promise me that you'll spend the rest of your life making it up to me, and i'll get you out of here."
"Only if you promise to come with me." your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth but ghost cut you off.
"We can fake our deaths, we can get far away from all of this. I dont want to be in a line of work that could easily take you away from me. Two years was hard enough, I couldn't imagine a lifetime without you."
As his words sank in, your mind raced to comprehend his proposal. Ghost wanted to build a life with you, away from the world of shadow companies, the 141, and the constant danger of missions. It was a vision of a peaceful and quiet life, just the two of you in a tranquil home somewhere far away from the chaos you had known. A warm, heartfelt smile spread across your face, and without hesitation, you agreed.
"Okay."
You snuck him out of his cell and made your way over to alejandros, taking out a few shadows along the way. Alejandro nearly smashed your head into the wall but Ghost was quick to let him know that you were helping them escape. Together, you successfully made your way out of the base. Alejandro took the lead, guiding you along the safest route. Finally, you reached a safehouse, and he was about to call Rudy, when ghost stopped him fom making the call.
"We aren't going back." Alejandro looked at him a bit confused, his brows furrowing.
"What do you mean you're not going back?"
"When you see Price again, tell him we were K.I.A trying to get you out," The words hung in the air for a moment, and Alejandro's gaze shifted from Ghost to yours, where he noticed your radiant smile. It became clear to him what was happening, and he nodded in understanding, a smile forming on his own face.
"You can take one of my cars if you need it, I wish the both of you well and thank you for everything you have done for me." Ghost shook Alejandro's hand, and then he took yours, leading you toward his garage.
6 years later...
"Hey! Don't run with a fork; you're going to hurt yourself!" you call out to your 4-year-old child as he dashes around with the utensil. With your 1-year-old in your arms, you watch as Simon swoops in, lifting your 4-year-old off the ground and taking the fork away. You breathe a sigh of relief and smile as you see Simon playfully wrestle with him on the couch.
The both of you have come a long way in the six years since you both ran away and started a life together. Every day you thank yourself for going inside Simon's cell, as your heart swells with happiness at the beautiful family you've built together. He walks over taking the baby from your arms and lifting her up as she laughs. You smile as you watch his radiant smile as he looks up at his daughter. He cradles her in his arms as he leans down and kisses you.
"I love you." He says, and a wide smile graces your features.
"Did soap bet you to say that?."
448 notes · View notes
ellemaru · 3 months
Text
"I Like Your Bike"
Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader
Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.
Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication
Tumblr media
A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !
Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.
As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.
You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.
“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,” 
When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.
“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that 
You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel
You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier
The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.
“Are you not hot in that mask?”
“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone. 
When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.
“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.
“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck. 
“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.
“I like your bike,”
“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again
“You don’t talk much,”
“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”
“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.
That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier. 
“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.
The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.
“Huh?”
“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.
“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.
When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.
“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country
“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.
“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.
“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.
“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”
“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.
“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.
“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”
“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”
“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.
419 notes · View notes
Text
wisdom teeth
simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
Tumblr media
word count: 1,472
synopsis: Simon comes home from a mission only to find you in bed, sick and in pain. Your wisdom teeth are coming out and he does his best to care for you
notes: as always, i suck at writing a good synopsis; inspired by this request- not proofread, hope you enjoy :) ; and yes, when two of my wisdom teeth decided to come out in the world last spring I could barely open my mouth without being in pain- I hope no one else has to go through what I did
warnings: a little too self-indulgent? fluff
masterlist
Simon knew something was wrong when he spent nearly an hour nursing his cup of Earl Grey, and you hadn't joined him yet. While it wasn't unusual for you to sleep in sometimes, it was still the morning after he'd returned from a mission and you would usually be fussing all over him. Ghost knew he was being irrational, but with each passing second his mind couldn't help but spiral into darker and darker thoughts. What if he had done something to upset you? You didn't greet him last night either - merely cuddled against his chest when he joined you in bed - was it something he said on the phone? Or rather didn't say? Didn't he call you too often? Or perhaps you might have met someone else..?
"'m sorry, S'mon. I might spend'he day'n…"
A small curse left his lips as he shook himself out of his thoughts. The tea had long gone cold by the time he eventually got up from the table and threw the remnants down the kitchen sink. His stomach was basically growling, protesting at the prolonged hunger it had been objected to, yet Ghost did not head for the fridge or the cupboards: he may have drunk his tea by himself, but, when he was home, he would never have breakfast without you by his side.
So instead, he headed for the bedroom, quietly opening the door and half-entering the room. He had to squint as the blackout curtains were still obstructing any ray of sunlight that might have entered inside otherwise, his expression morphing into a frown upon hearing the faintest of groans coming from the bed.
Traversing the room in two steps, he laid on the carpet, by your side of the bed, gently placing a hand on your forehead. His heart dropped at the foreboding feeling of you having a fever, too focused on the situation at hand to notice the soft way you began to rub your head against the cold skin of his hand.
Ghost, on the other hand, did not realise the cause of your distress. Seeing you in pain was causing him pain too and his tired mind, still set on the military mindset he had instilled during the last mission, was looking for a culprit.
"feels so good, love", you mumbled with your cheek still squished against the pillow, your eyes involuntarily making contact with his.
You've been together with Simon for more than two years and sharing an apartment for a year now, but the sight of his handsome face, unconcealed by any mask or balaclava, still left you out of breath and at a loss for words. That morning was no different, his worried expression filling your heart with even more love and joy towards him, so much that you swore you could feel it burst at the seams. You relished in the soothing sensation of his palm being pressed against your flushed skin, but at the same time, you couldn't help but smile at him in an attempt to reassure him you were fine.
In fact, you weren't. And you forgot that, at least for the last few days, any movements that involved opening your mouth, no matter how minor, were instantly accompanied by sharp waves of pain, coursing through your entire being. So, for the hundredth time that week, your smile was quickly replaced by a pathetic whimper and a hand helplessly pressed against your cheek, as if it would make the pain go away.
"Who did this to you? Just say the word and I-"
His concern was so raw and real that it made your heart melt like it was a chocolate bar left in the sun. You had missed his overprotective attitude and the scary dog privileges it brought with it and in that moment, the realisation that all of it was back hit you hard. So hard that in fact, you started laughing- your loud chuckles quickly turning into sobs of pain as your jaw was protesting against the sudden movements.
Your eyes were closed in an attempt to dull the pain that engulfed your entire face, but you could feel Simon's distress rolling off him in waves. So you blindly reached for the phone and opened the notepad application, typing in what you were unable to say out loud at once:
"Wisdom teeth are coming out."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Simon took a moment to assess the situation. A rush of relief surged through his veins as it was all clear then- the prolonged sleeping periods, the fever, why you couldn't open your mouth without being forced to close it immediately after. A selfish part of him was relieved that it was something he could physically deal with, and his protective instincts really started to kick in.
Pulling the curtains was not a solution as the brightness of the daylight would only make you feel more overwhelmed, but the room still needed some light- and the bedside lamp was not a solution as the bulb would have also been too bright. You would also need something to calm you, but not pills because they would interfere with the painkillers he also made a mental note to get and-
"I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, love! :)"
He had to squint to process the text when you shoved the phone into his face, his lips curling up at the sight of the smiley face you typed at the end. Urging your face to morph into something that remotely resembled a smile, you extended a hand towards his face and caressed his cheek with your thumb, in what was meant to be a silent confirmation that he was on the right track and nothing that he would or wouldn't do would upset you in any way.
"I'll be back in 30 minutes at most!", he solemnly declared as he pressed his lips against your forehead, a small tendril of hope bubbling in his chest upon the feeling of the fever starting to fade away. "Why don't you try to get some rest until I come back and then we'll see what we can do!"
You could only nod in confirmation as he pulled another blanket from a drawer and draped it over the one you already used, making a show out of tugging you in.
---
When you woke up again, the pain wasn't entirely gone, but the air in the room had somehow shifted. It took you a moment to bounce back into reality, your eyes slightly widening at the faint light that illuminated the previously dark room.
Fairy lights were hanging over your head.
And the soft notes of a piano song could be heard from outside the room.
"How are you feeling, love?", Simon's deep Manchester accent resounded somewhere in your proximity, and you almost jumped out of bed when you realised he was once again sitting on the floor, half leaning against the bed. His mask was, once again, out of sight, and his blonde strands of hair were tousled, likely from the many times he kept running his hands through his hair. Your eyes involuntarily stopped on the faint scar that split the left corner of his lip in half and, for a brief moment, all the pain and distress you found yourself in were gone, your heart filling with an overwhelming amount of love and adoration towards the man standing in front of you.
"So I brought you some painkillers, but before we try them I suggest a cup of this calming tea mix I found at the store-"
The sentence was left hanging in the air as you shook your head in disbelief and cupped his face in your hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips. If Ghost was caught unawares by your sudden display of affection, he did not let it show, but instead, he laced his hands against your neck and deepened the kiss, closing his eyes at the close contact you found yourselves in. Loudly expressing his feelings was not one of his strengths, and deep down he could not believe he had managed to find someone like you, who could understand him so well.
"Welcome home, Simon!"
"I think I'm feeling better already…", you quietly mumbled once you broke the kiss, your lips gently brushing against his cheek. Closing your eyes as well, you grazed your nose against his face, finding comfort in his scent. He may have been home for a day, perhaps he took a shower too, but the distinctive smell of gunpowder, mixed with sweat and cologne, was still there. And you did not mind it at all.
That time your jaw did not hurt as bad as your mouth curved into a smile.
607 notes · View notes
holycryptid · 14 days
Text
Tears of Blood
König x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).
Tumblr media
Explicit content (18+)
Word count: 3.0k
Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, light choking, mentions of murder/blood (look who we’re working with), mentions of ghostsoap (yay!), explicit language, some fluff, dry humping, friends with benefits…? (let me know if anything was missed!)
Summary: König reveals a very compelling detail about himself while you prepare him for tomorrow's deployment—also inspired by this post/ask and bluegiragi’s art <3
Notes: this has been posted on AO3 for over a year and i just straight up forgot to post it here, too…oops
The barracks are eerily quiet after curfew. So quiet, in fact, that a ghost couldn’t even float around without being heard. Sometimes there is one, he’s just not of the conventional sort.
You’ve learned that Soap gladly let’s his room be haunted most nights.
König never says a word about it. If he did, he’d be a hypocrite. Especially now, as he drifts to the door of your room: after curfew.
By now, you know to leave it unlocked for him. You don’t know when it started becoming habit, but it did. A mindless gesture that makes his lips quirk under the hood when he turns the knob and feels the door give in with no resistance.
You’ve grown used to seeing his figure loom in the doorway, but sometimes your brain forgets it’s just him, and your heart instinctually stutters a beat out of fear as you see the shadows from the dim lighting hug around his broad, towering form—just as imposing and threatening even without the gear.
You’ve mentally noted that not everyone that casts their gaze, usually a fearful and watery one, upon him lives to do so again. But you are fortunate. You never let yourself forget what he’s been trained to do—what he does. He doesn’t like to indulge in it much, if at all, and his hesitance to do so makes you think it’s better if you don’t know the complicated details anyway.
KorTac has quite a different reputation than the 141. König helped make sure of that.
You finish folding the rest of your civvies, tucking them away in their small drawer, and toss a look over your shoulder to the man lingering in the doorway. “See any ghosts?” you muse, prompting König to step in and lock the door behind him.
A breathy chuckle fills the room. “Didn’t see anything, but I wish these rooms were soundproof.”
“Oh, no.” You hold a cackle, hand slapped over your mouth as you meet his amused eyes through the rough-edged holes of his hood.
“Well, that’s just Soap for you. Not even Ghost can shut him up, I guess.” You plop onto your bed with a sigh to compose yourself.
You know Soap will indulge you later.
“So, how may I be of service to the king?” You offer a playful smile as he stands at the foot of your bed. The unexpected nickname making him more interested in the flooring.
He brings a finger up to the black hood, hooking it in by his jaw and pulling to reveal a sizeable gash in the fabric. A close call with a knife if you ever saw one. “Needle and thread.”
He unhooks his finger and drags the worn material off of his head, then the plain black balaclava that hides him further under it follows. He drops both onto your clean sheets in front of him, rounding the corner of the bed and joining you.
Dark red hair flops over his forehead and hangs in thick, wavy strands. It hasn’t quite reached his shoulders yet, but it’s long enough to have a mind of its own. It’s a colour you don’t come across too often; maybe comparable to a chestnut, or old leaves in autumn before they disappear under a blanket of snow.
“Jeez, you ever gonna cut this?” You turn to face him and run a hand up the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the dense locks and lightly scratching his scalp on the way down.
Soft blue eyes glance to you, still outlined in black from earlier. “Probably not. Can’t find the time.” His accent gently rounds out the vowels as he leans into your touch.
“Let me braid it for you, then. To hold it back. I know you deploy again tomorrow.” You tuck a strand behind his ear, following with a fleeting kiss right above his cheekbone. A faint blush creeps over his temples and the barely-there freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.
“I promise it won’t be the worst thing ever,” you gently plead. “You can mend your hood in peace while I do it?”
You’ve definitely done worse together. But worse always seems to be easier.
“Okay.”
Usually these nights don’t go like this.
3 days ago
“Oh, that’s good—right there. Yeah. Yeah,” you nearly sob. König holds you against him, left arm reaching across your chest and hand comfortably gripping your throat as you try to roll your hips back against him harder.
His other hand is between your thighs—on your clit—which are dangling over his own to keep you spread. You’re trapped there; under his arms and over his legs as he jerks his hips up to meet your disjointed riding on the rickety office chair.
An empty briefing room. Not really smart, but Soap passed on that it was “out of service” until next week, not knowing that you’d end up in there sat on König’s cock later that afternoon.
The fabric of König’s hood rubs uncomfortably against your cheek, making you drop your head back onto his shoulder to escape it.
A breathy moan rushes past his lips as you arch your back. “No, no. You’re staying right here.” He tightens and corrects the grip he has across your chest, sliding his gloved fingers up under your jaw to keep you locked in place.
His cock slides itself in and out of you with little resistance, which would usually be slightly embarrassing if it was anyone else inside you, but the way he’s been massaging your clit with such attentiveness and grinding his hips into yours makes you forget anything you could be worried about.
The only thing you can think of right now is how good this orgasm is going to be.
Your hands snake themselves up his arm that’s pinned to your front to grip his wrist, holding on for dear life as his small thrusts become rougher. “You get much, much wetter when you’re close,” he observes. His index finger holds a steady rhythm on your clit as it works counterclockwise over you. “Fuck, I can hear it…can you?”
A whine bubbles in your throat. The zipper of his cargo pants bites against your ass on every downstroke, and you can feel how wet you’ve made the front of his pants. That’s what he gets for only caring enough to pull his cock out while he ripped your cargos off entirely.
“I—fuck. Yes, I’m close, yes,” you choke out, daring to cast your gaze upon where your bodies are connected.
You’re swollen and slick and you can hear it, too. The quick, sharp slaps of his hips against your ass does little to hide the hungry squelching of your cunt. You’ve probably dripped all down his balls at this point. He’s always happier with a big mess in the end anyway.
“Cum when you’ve had enough, Schatzi,” he chirps in your ear, breathless and lost in the wet, suffocating warmth of you—all his doing, of course. The result of far too many minutes spent with his thick cock gently sliding between your folds and nudging itself over your throbbing clit, just to be annoying, before he moved you both to the chair.
You drag in a heavy breath, focusing on the stretch of his cock deep inside your walls as the chair creaks with every desperate drop onto him.
Schatzi. “W-what does that mean?”
You’ve naturally picked up a few German words and phrases here and there from time spent with him, but this one was new. A term of endearment? A degrading nickname? Either could be possible in this moment. The sound and pronunciation couldn’t be more ambiguous to you.
“König?” It came out as a whisper, quickly silenced by the release of your orgasm throughout your body as he forces you down to the base of his cock.
You haven’t brought it up since. Neither has he.
Even now it sits in the back of your mind as you divide his hair down the middle into two parts. You remain on your bed, he sits on the floor between your knees with a needle and black thread in hand that he retrieved from the bedside table (stashed there specifically for him).
He lays the hood over his left arm and begins to stitch it quietly as you wind three generous strands of his hair between your fingers at the front of his scalp, pulling taught at the root. You carefully thread more hair in from the sides to have it lay perfectly against the top of his skull when finished. You’ll do a matching one on the right side.
“Let me know if it hurts at all,” you warn as you begin tugging more hair into place.
“Ha, I’ve faced adversaries far worse than your little hands,” he laughs, adjusting the hood in his hand as he pokes the needle in again.
The long vermillion markings under the eye sockets stare back at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”
It’s hard to not be curious about all of the parts that make up “König”. The mask is one of them.
“Why the tears?” you ask confidently while you establish the first braid.
“Hm?” He quirks his head to follow your voice, pausing the followthrough with the thread as you give an accidental yank to his hair.
“Your mask…under the eyes. Why tears?” You figured it was either something symbolic or just his personal taste. Everyone’s got a gimmick.
It seems like every aspect of his existence is a test of one’s curiosity, and you may have just failed.
He focuses his attention back on the stitch he was occupied with. “Fear tactic.” Oh.
Short and sweet. Simple and straightforward. It makes sense—
“I make them with the blood of my targets.” Oh.
Your fingers lose their rhythm for a moment, caught off-guard by the admission. Not so much surprised by the fact that he would do something like that, but rather that he confessed such a thing…to you.
“So you do that…presently?” How could you resist following up about that? It’s the perfect snare. This is the most you’ve gotten from him in weeks.
A beat of measured silence, yet it’s not uncomfortable. He likes to think about what to say, how to say it, before speaking his thoughts spontaneously.
“Only if I believe it’s truly deserved,” he explains. His tone doesn’t reveal if he’s displeased with the topic of work. “The blood actually doesn’t hold up against the black on its own, so Horangi suggested using bleach underneath so it will show better. If needed.” He runs a finger over a washed-out tear track. “Less maintenance with the chemical.”
It’s…it’s morbid, obviously, but you’re not sure if you expected anything less from someone in this line of work. And, of course, leave it to Horangi to feed the fantasy. They are nearly inseparable, besides the times that König’s with you.
Sometimes it’s hard to imagine him as murderous or malevolent—König, who has the most gentle, innocent blue eyes that have offered nothing but kindness to you, even in moments of fierce, consuming pleasure. König, who you’ve never seen, or heard, raise his voice at anyone in anger. König, who despises small talk because he can’t stand the awkwardness.
König, who enjoys the vibrant red sunsets on base and thunderstorms. König, who prefers blueberries over strawberries. König, who is obsessed with entomology books.
But there’s still another part of him that can take out entire platoons of enemies and have no more than a rip in his beloved hood afterwards.
The man under the facade of a callsign and reputation is someone who you may never truly meet, no matter how much he reveals. It feels like you’ve only met half of him despite knowing as much as you do about him, and that fact has settled as an ache in your chest.
“I see…I know it’s not really my place to ask about that stuff, but it’s hard to not wonder about you sometimes.” You’ve reached the end of the first braid, leaving the tail to sit at the crown of his head amongst the uneven layers he has going on.
You tie it off with a small black elastic. It’s a little messy considering the awkward length of his hair, but it looks like it’s meant to be there.
“It’s fine. I’m a big boy, I think I can handle it.” He gives a comforting laugh, amused at your timidness.
In every facet, he’s right. You can’t help but nod your head in agreement with a small smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your expression. “Well, I can’t disagree with you there.”
You begin the start of the second, and final, braid, grabbing the three strands at the front and twisting them into place as he speaks again. “I know it was my size that drew you to me in the first place,” he states confidently, shoulders shaking in amusement at the tease.
Your mouth gapes in feigned offence. “Wow, okay. Is that a crime?”
“No, not in my eyes. Look, look,” he brushes past the sarcasm, holding and stretching the now intact hood out in front of him to see the effectiveness of his handiwork. The seam is near invisible in the sea of black fabric (a ratty t-shirt).
It’s definitely better than the last one he did a few weeks ago. “Damn, that’s pretty fucking impressive. I’m almost done, hold on.” You hurry to tie off the hair, gently holding the sides of his head to see how even they came out. “Looks good, from up here at least. Come sit, let me see the front.” You pat one of his shoulders, freeing him from the cage of your legs and scooting further onto your bed.
“Danke. My spine didn’t love that, though,” he says with a theatric exhale.
He folds the hood in his lap, setting it on the bedside table with the needle and roll of thread. He all but tumbles back onto the soft sheets, groaning as he stretches his neck and shoulders out and lays comfortably on his back, long legs hanging over the side of the mattress.
His eyes flutter shut from the homely feeling of being in—or on—your bed. “Mm, I think I’ll stay here tonight.”
You acknowledge his thought with a small hum as you lean over his restful form to quickly assess his hair, dragging your fingertips along each side lightly. The shaggy hair will always suit him. It frames his cheekbones and jaw perfectly.
König opens his eyes at your touch. “So how does it look, doc? Will I survive deployment now?”
Another smile from you with a slight roll of your eyes. “I think it’ll do the job. Now go clean the black off your eyes if you’re staying. I don’t want it all over my pillows again.”
Soap saw the braids in König’s hair the next day before they deployed. An accident or purposefully, you’re not sure yet.
And now, two days later, he still won’t shut the fuck up about it.
“Would ye do that for me?” he asks, playfully quirking a thick brow.
“Probably not, no.”
An arm shoots out accusingly at you in disbelief. “That’s my point! I—”
“Wouldn’t be able to anyway with that fucking landing strip you call a mohawk.” You poorly stifle a laugh with a tight-lipped smirk.
“Away n’ bile yer heid, I’m just trying to help!” He rubs a hand over his eyes, trying to stave off his laughter too. It’s hard to be in his presence and not be overcome with a state of lively energy.
You’re in Soap’s—and sometimes Ghost’s—room, for no real reason other than company while König is at a (delayed) briefing.
Soap’s sitting on his—and sometimes Ghost’s—bed hounding you about the complex being that is König just because he can. You move about the room, finding things to tidy and organize to busy your mind.
“Have ye gone to town on each other yet?”
“Dude!?” You rip a pillow from under him and whack his head. Hard. His infectious cackling now muffled through the thick pillow.
“You’re insufferable. How the fuck does Ghost put up with you?” You try to suppress your giggling as you drop the pillow and join him on the bed in defeat.
A mischievous grin lines his lips at the question. “Well, he t—”
“No! No. Nope. I don’t need to know. It was rhetorical.” You hold up a hand to silence him, bringing it to cover his mouth. His day-old scruff pricks your palm as he tries to talk through your hand.
“Whatever you say next better be insightful or profound or else I’m gonna suffocate you with your own pillow.”
Soap, in fact, didn’t have anything insightful or profound to say about the situation.
— 
König wanders into your room again that night, and he’s filled with a gluttonous desire to consume you in any way that he can. 
It’s the least he can do for you. It’s the most you can do for him.
You rut against his clothed cock, straddling his hips tightly while your hands keep a death-grip on his hair. Once again, you find yourself on your bed with him under you, the clock on the bedside table glaring the angry red 12:56am.
His large hands have found their home on your ass, encouraging your pussy—still covered by your underwear—to rock harder over his length, which is still trapped in his briefs. 
He breaks away from your mouth when you give a rather forceful roll over him, a surprised gasp slipping through his now rosy lips. His grip on your ass slides down to your quivering thighs, rubbing over them soothingly as you work.
A harmony of softs whines and rough groans dance around the room as your pliant bodies move together. “This is somehow better than sex,” König mumbles, mostly to himself. “I don’t want to admit it, but I can cum like this if you don’t stop,” he adds with an overwhelmed huff. “Fuck, I will cum like this if you don’t stop,” he moans.
You let him, and he holds you tight as if you were something other than casual.
150 notes · View notes
meatonfork · 1 year
Note
i saw you wanted requests and i am in LOVEE with your writing!
maybe grim gifting the team things i.e like a crocheted balaclavas
or
grim does some sort of schooling/training and they graduate and the team are at the graduation ?
Graduation Day
————————————————————————————————————————
pairings: platonic 141 x grim
warnings: none i believe!
summary: grim graduates college!
————————————————————————————————————————
as silly as it sounds, grim was taking classes in their down time.
the others could never fully understand why. to their knowledge, they were going to school for education.
grim had said, “what if, one day, i decide to leave and become a teacher. i think it would be fun! i love kids, and teaching them to be good, smart people is the best thing a person can do in my eyes.”
they were hellbent on finishing college and getting that degree.
so, they did.
four grueling years later, and they were walking the stage, getting a diploma, and getting back to work with their team.
the weeks leading up to graduation were stressful. grim was running about, practically bouncing off the walls with nerves and excitement.
the day of graduation, grim was having a breakdown because their favorite pair of civilian shoes got ruined. gaz ran around town looking for a new pair, and when he brought them to grim they geeked out and kissed his cheek before running back to get ready.
the stands were full and you were scared. what if you tripped while walking the stage? what if they forgot you?
you knew you were fine. you just couldn’t help it.
you couldn’t see any of your boys from where you sat with your class. but, the sooner this was over with, they sooner you could see them.
“call sign, grim.” you had asked they used your call sign for personal safety. your name was still confidential within your force, and you didn’t need to compromise that.
you shakily stood, and walked the path to the dean.
loud, deep, cheering came from your right side. you looked down to see your boys standing.
price had tears flowing from his eyes with the biggest smile you’d ever seen him sport. what a dad.
soap was clapping and cheering as loud as he possibly could, which was pretty damn loud.
ghost was standing while clapping. he wasn’t making any verbal sounds, but his eyes were crinkled at the corners from a large smile under his balaclava.
gaz was fist pumping the air and shouting “atta kid! lets go!”
upon seeing your biggest supporters, you put on a smile and accepted the diploma with a handshake.
the rest of the ceremony went by and the smile never left your features. your eyes were sparkling under the lights. you were glowing.
after you all threw your caps, you swiftly grabbed yours and rushed off to find your boys. they were stood near the back corner of the room, their backs to you as they talked.
you snuck up and jumped on soap’s back, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“i did it, guys! i did it!” you laughed out.
“hell yeah you did, kid!” gaz slapped a hand to your back.
“we’re proud of you kid.” if even possible, your smile grew at price’s words.
looking to ghost, he sent a wink and subtle thumbs up.
that’s all you needed. you had the full support of the most important people in your life.
“hey, can we go get some food? that ceremony took way too long.” soap bounced you up.
“yeah, i could go for some ice cream. but, it’ll only taste good if price pays.” a giggle bubbles from your throat.
price sighed, but beckoned you all out to the car.
————————————————————————————————————————
a/n: okay! this was short, but i thought it was really cute haha. fun fact, grim worrying about being forgotten is totally valid BC I WAS FORGOTTEN AT MY GRADUATION AND IM STILL SALTY ABOUT IT. ITS BEEN TWO YEARS.
1K notes · View notes
shoukiko · 3 months
Text
Merry Christmas, Simon
Tumblr media
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader
Tags: Fluff....just fluff lol
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I've been working on this for a bit, just waiting to post it today, I'm all antsy, I really hope you guys like it.
Tumblr media
You’ve worked with TF141 for the past three years. Price spoke to Laswell, saying that he thought the team deserved some type of break, so he and Laswell came up with an “amazing holiday getaway” to “a hidden oasis where the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves and the soothing melody of birdsong.”. It was a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, for safety reasons, but you were all grateful for it. It was 2 weeks away, a day would’ve been fine, but she insisted.
It was a week and two days into the trip, snowing outside, your turn for chores. Soap and Gaz sat on the couch in front of an old television watching some soap opera. Price is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, asleep with his arms crossed as his head dangles. You’re tidying up the kitchen after a late dinner, you turn to look at the clock hung on the wall which reads, 12:05. You realize what this entails as you turn to the three men.
“Merry Christmas, guys!” You say cheerfully in their direction. 
“Merry Christmas, Lass.” Soap says from his seat, he nudges Gaz to respond. “Ah- Yea Merry Christmas…” He seems to be too focused on the TV show, who can blame him, those telenovelas are addicting. You decide against waking Price up, the man needs his sleep. As you turn back to the sink you feel a tap on your left shoulder, you turn to see Ghost’s tall dark figure hovering over you, sporting his casual skull balaclava.
“Oh, hey. What’s up?” You tilt your head as you ask, genuinely curious as to what he could need that requires a tap on the shoulder instead of him outright asking.
“You got a minute? Wanted to see if we could have a quick chat.” His tone is somewhat nervous? He isn’t as husky or gritty as usual. “Sure, let me finish up and-” He cuts you off before you can finish. “It’s important. I’ll help you out after.” 
Must really be important if the Ghost tells you it is. “Alright.” You wipe your hands on your apron, untying it from your back and hanging it up on a nearby chair. “Grab your coat.” He dons his own coat, all in one fell swoop. You grab yours, putting it on. 
You both head outside to the porch, each taking a seat on the swinging bench that hangs from the veranda. “Ah wait here-” He says, standing once more, he heads inside and comes back hiding something in his coat. “Whatcha got there, Mister?” You ask him as he sits back down, the bench shifts slightly from his weight.
He pulls out a plastic bag that contains multiple little things, he hands it to you. Taking notice of the slight blush at the end of his fingertips you slowly take the bag. “Merry Christmas… Sorry, didn’t get to wrap it.” A bashful tone in his voice.
“You.. got me something? Man, I feel a little bad, if I would’ve known I would’ve done the same..” You say, hesitating to open it. “Don’t fret over it… Are you gonna open it or just stare at it?”
“Ah right- Sorry” You carefully reach into the bag and pull out one of the small items. It’s… 
“Socks! You got me socks?!” A smile appears on your face, beaming in the night. Despite the mask, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “There’s more if you look.” 
You open the bag more and find more small items, a small tube of vanilla scented lotion, a notepad, and some cinnamon wax melts. You’re happy, but oh so confused by the difference of each item.
“This is… Thank you. I really love it, but what’s with the theme?” You ask with a laugh.
“Well…” He pauses to think for a minute. “It’s all things you wanted.” “Huh..?”
“A couple days ago you said you couldn’t find your winter socks, then you said you forgot your hand cream back at home, then you said while eating dinner two nights ago that you love the smell of cinnamon during Christmas because it reminds you of good memories from your childhood.” You’re taken aback, you don’t remember saying any of these things until he brings it up, such small things and yet he remembers. 
“You… you actually remember?” A faint blush appears on your face as you scan over your new gifts, suddenly feeling warm despite the subzero temperatures. “Uhm.. Thank you.. Really. Was this what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No, actually.” His expression becomes somber as he closes his eyes and takes a breath, he turns his body slightly and rests his arm on the back of the bench. “Look, I don’t know how else to bring this up.”
“What’s wrong?”
Ghost grips the back of the bench before meeting your eyes.
"Listen, I've been thinkin' a lot lately, and I reckon I need to be straight with you. You mean a proper lot to me, more than I can put into words. I'm mad about you, every single goddamn I hear your voice or that stupid laugh.. It’s like something shifts in me. I care about you, more than  I have about anyone in a long time, but…”
Your heart beating out of your chest, uncertain on how to respond. All you can let out is a
“But..?”
He looks down, almost like he’s ashamed before responding.
“I’m.. scared, terrified. Of hurting you.. Or you getting into an accident during a mission. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” His tone is serious, but you can hear a sense of fear.
You look at him with genuine eyes, you almost can’t believe what’s happening in front of you, the Ghost confessing his feelings for you. “But…” He continues. “If you’ll have me, I’m willing to take that leap into uncertainty with you. If… you want.”
You look at him as if you’re a deer caught in headlights. You begin to lose your breath, blinking,  unable to process what was said to you. You take a moment before replying…
“I- I….” You struggle to find the words, you want to scream, but you also want to take it slow and really talk about it. You can see him become antsy, your silence bringing tension to the cold air around you. “Ghost I..”
“It’s fine.” He interrupts.
“What?”
“It’s fine, I know it’s sudden. I’m sorry.” He says, there's a slight hurt in his voice, he goes to stand. Just then you grab his arm, stopping him.
“I want.” “...What..?” “You said if I want…. Well.. I want, I don’t know how else to say it. I do want to be with you. I want to jump into that uncertainty with you. Please.” There’s a tinge of desperation in your voice, you feel as if you say nothing now, you will never have this opportunity again.
Ghost looks as if a wave of relief has washed over him. 
“I thought you were gonna make me think I said all that for nothin’.” His eyes crinkle slightly as he adjusts himself once more.
“I’m sorry, I got nervous, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.” You begin to fidget with your hands in your lap, a faint blush appearing on your faces as you turn away. 
You feel him inching closer to you, the heat from his body radiating, bringing warmth for both of you to share.
He softly grabs your face with his right hand, turning you towards him. You take glances at his mask and eyes, unable to lock on a single thing. He pulls up his mask just above his nose and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. Only a few seconds before you lean into him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat. He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You pull away for just a second to catch your breath. The both of you share a look, complete silence, then..
He chuckles, “Well then..” You place a hand on your mouth as you stare at him, stifling a small laugh. “That was something.” You manage to say through your giggles. You place your hand on his, a loving smile forms on your lips. He begins to caress the back of your hand, his touch gentle, yet warm. “Thank you…. Merry Christmas, Doll.” He looks up at you with gentle eyes.
“Merry Christmas, Simon.”
146 notes · View notes
gyarunie · 11 months
Text
Twisting Horrorlands introduction #2
(A/N): i forgot to put tags so imma do this again lol, this took wayyy longer than i expected and expect some mistakes or grammar errors
(C/W): gore, body horror, just dark in general and not for the weak stomach (if you are under 12 then please leave)
Summary and Navi, part 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Horror!Mc looks more fragile and shorter than the original, they wear a gas mask and their hands are covered by thick gloves, they seem a bit duller than the normal mc, they wear something very similar to rain boots, this mc is very cautious and knows self defense. magic in the OG world barely hurts them, maybe they suffered worse in the horrorlands?
◇─◇──◇─◇
Vil Schoenheit isn't all he seems, the perfect face he has isn't his at all, if you look at his nape then you can see very light scar marks. Vil's insides are ugly but his outside is pretty, a hypocrite to say the least. his chest is only his ribcage. When vil is enraged his mouth gapes open in different sections of his mouth and chin. due to his acting career he can mimic anyone's voice, that means he can also ruin your life.
Rook Hunt's hair is a bit more shaggy than his normal bob, his hands are scarred and his green eyes glow in the dark, his hat has a veil covering his whole face and head, he doesn't like anyone invading his privacy after all, no one has ever seen his skin, even in gym class he wears a balaclava. Disrespect his privacy then you will never be heard from again. Just let him go his way.
Epel Felmier has a doll mask, its cute and pretty looking, but its just slightly cracked at the cheek, due to him hating the mask and trying to break it. Epel's hair is very well tamed but his hands are bruised and cut. Under the mask he looks cold and angry, he is still very pretty/cute looking but his expression scares you, scratch marks are on his cheeks from likely himself, his eyes are mad and the mask is maybe the only thing keeping him together.
ALL pomefiore students eat a poisoned apple when they are accepted, come to vil everyweek end for the antidote.
◇─◇──◇─◇
Idia Shroud is just skin and bones at this point, he looks like he haven't eaten or slept in days, his hair is always flicking light and its more messy if you can imagine, his ribs show very clearly, his eyes are red from his internet addiction, his nails are chewed off, his dark circles are more visible, parts of his skin have scratch marks.
Ortho Shroud always has some kind of malfunction to him, glitching and spazzing, his voice lags and he repeats the same word multiple times, one of his arms were torn off, electric sparks and parts of his wires are sticking out from his arm. ortho looks more dead, his eyes a bit sunken and his skin more pale and grey-ish.
ALL ignihyde students have one body part replaced with a robot part.
◇─◇──◇─◇
Malleus Draconia is a dangerous one, he can literally almost do anything, he can make you go blind if you anger him. his monstrous strength is doubled. don't touch his fingernails, you are gonna go to sleep for eternity. his hair touches his waist and he has two sets of horns, his tongue is forked and his teeth are sharp like needles, his height goes to a whopping 220cm(with horns), he might have more than a little interest in you.
Lilia Vanrouge's color palette is so dull and desaturated like he has been existed for a very long time, his eyes are almost the most saturated color, if you go near him you can hear faint screams of fear and pain. his tricks are more harmful, someone stepping in his beartrap is 'fun' for him. his hair is longer and sharp, his head can go 360° no problem.
Silver's hair glows just a little, its very noticeable at night also one of the reasons he can't sleep well at night, if you look at his eyes for a long period of time you will get drowsy and almost fall asleep, his heartbeat is really slow and almost feels like he is slowly dying, he has a collar around him to keep him awake.
Sebek Zigvolt is very clearly a crocodile fae, scales go across his cheekbones, his fingers are webbed and his forearms have scales as well. he doesn't have sclera most humans have, its just his yellow green eyes with big slits. he looks angry and hostile all the time. he can see clearly under water too. his teeth are crocodile-like and some of them juts out.
ALL diasomnia students have to cut off one of their ring finger to show their loyalty.
◇─◇──◇─◇
Chenya's eyes are scarier, slits are more visible and his grim literally reaches ear to ear, he is always smiling, his eyes are wider and bigger, his nails are sharp and it gets caught onto almost everything and anything soft, like skin. he bats at people and sometimes it draws blood or marks, his eyes glow in the dark and he can show up anywhere and anytime.
Neige LeBlanche is a selective mute, he wears a tight corset underneath his clothes, it looks like it was tied a little too tight that he has trouble breathing properly. his skin is snow white and his hair is silky and soft. He has trouble speaking properly and he uses a whistle to call for animals. his throat has a lodged apple piece in it.
Rollo Flamm wears a pope hat which covers his mouth, the same embroidery that as his handkerchief. his eyes have a slight crazed look, his hair is messy like he had a breakdown somewhere on campus. he is prone to lashing out. he will be very obsessive to his beliefs and will personally go out of his way to do what he wants. rollo can breathe fire and will burn you if you disobey.
◇─◇──◇─◇
!all school authorities has the right to execute students!
Dire Crowley's school is a gamble at life everyday, he is reckless and he will play favorites. his wings are big and his feathers are a bit heavier than normal feathers, there are small parts on his body which has feathers, his coat drags on the floor and his nails are sharp like talons, don't look at the mirrors attached to his hip, you might see something. ink sometimes drip from his eyes and mouth
Divus Crewel wears dog fur and doesn't care, he has a head of one of every animal, his coat's tail twitches from time to time, the red parts in his outfit are colored in animal blood and dried. his pointer has a blade at the tip. his hands have eyes on the back of it. his left eye is white but he can fully see, his dead dogs can fight for him, they are ghosts but they bite like a real dog.
Mozus Trein is strict in a deadly sense, lucius is way more vicious and more like trein's right hand, lucius has two tails. Trein looks very elegant, almost like a vampire. His collar is tuffed up and his hair is slicked back, he looks unamused and he drinks blood regularly in a wine glass, no one knows where he gets his daily dose of blood but no one dares to question.
Sam instead of his marks he has actual bones of animals across his body. he has everything and anything, he sells humans, organs, blood. anything you need. his eyes glow in the dark and he has a smoking pipe and it has green smoke coming out of it, his teeth are jagged and some of his teeth are gold, his eyes are bloodshot and crazed, hoping you will buy something from him.
Ashton Vargas, is very VERY muscular, he looks very inhuman, his skin is grey and his veins are bulging and purple. his grip can break a femur. there is a big gash across his chest, it is stitched up by some staples, there is some kind of purple smoke coming out from the little parts that aren't really nicely stapled on.
◇─◇──◇─◇
Tumblr media
©2023 gyarunie, do not translate, repost, copy, edit my work in any way.
Reblogs help!
Taglist: @chaoticotaku @rainbowcake1212 @fried-lotud @rincommittedarsin @leonakingscholarship@robo-milky@elvyshiarieko@nexxy-is-lonely @kittymaniacz@shrimpsterprefect@despairingy-obsessed@clovers-anxiety @mfei-fei @thespiderinyourroom @mushroom-thing @atieroraniron@bunni-drop @zuilicious @youdrinksoupandeatwater @@active-coffee-machine-user @funtime-foxy-showtime @bananamilkx @littlepenguinheart @ceraleene @kaorikarma
698 notes · View notes
thewriterg · 6 months
Text
𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭...
pairing(s); john price x gn!reader, 141 x reader
summary; trying to find as most comfort as you could in your predicament youd do what any rational person would… bake, but it was a bit difficult when you had six foot rodents in your kitchen —flufftober day; 4—
word count; 1.0k+
warning(s); readers callsign is peach, papa price, small argument price just cares, fluff, kisses, pet names, and language
playlists; lover, you should’ve come over by Jeff Buckley
A/n:—GIFs; @madesh & @campesine-moved—
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you step towards the door you made sure to knock on the old wood in the rhythmic order agreed on so you wouldn’t be gunned down where you stood or dead before you had a chance to hit the floor
When the door creaked open a gun was put in your line of sight before it was took away so you were able to take a step into the old safe house immediately bombarded with questions as you put down the crate of goods down you body layered in a thin sheet of sweat under all of the clothes essentially tuning out your surroundings after being hyper aware for your hourlong journey
You stripped of one of Ghosts many balaclavas, Prices god awful bucket hat, Soaps pair of sunglasses, and Gazs too big gloves as you began tune back into the conversation that suddenly wasn’t as loud as it was while Price stood in front of you his voice demanding and gruff
“Where were you Peach? I won’t ask again don’t make me pull rank.” You sucked in a sharp breath using your fingers to crack your knuckles at your side before taking in another breath way smoother than the first before you responded
“I want to a market a few miles from here you wouldn’t have to worry so much if you read the note I left on the fridge” You responded voice void of emotion and it was Prices turn to suck in a a breath
“You could’ve been followed, someone spotted you and made the connection and use you as leverage, You had no backup! And no team!” The brunette that was beginning to grey began to get louder his voice carrying a pitch Price hated to yell at you anyone but you but right now it was one of those times where he had to be you captain rather than your lover
“I think you forgot I used to work alone. If it was one of the boys would you react like this please tell me!? We were running outta of food and safety percussion is that you don’t go out for the first 72 hours after locating in a safe house it’s been 96 excuse me for looking after my team Captain” With a snatching of the crate from its position on the floor you stormed through what you all deemed to be the living room with the harder than rocks couch and worn down wood coffee table making your way into the kitchen
Price ran a stressed hand through his hair before making his way out to the porch his boots thumping against the creaking hardwood floor as he went before lighting up a cigar
💌💌💌💌
There wasn’t much for you to work with in the kitchen it wasn’t the worst shelter you’d been in but it certainly wasn’t the best but you appreciated the small things lying around like an old cutting board, a small eating bowl, one stray pan and even a janky but working oven
You cut down on the apples with a little more force than needed using your combat knife as a kitchen utensils after you had washed it god knows how many times to rid of any… unwanted extras in your treat
“You need something Captain?” You questioned and John mentally grimaced at the title as you dumped a small bag of brown sugar over your cut fruit he knew after things like that you needed time but 40 minutes was all he could stand it was one of those rare situations he had to be your captain and your lover even though he strictly preferred being one or the other
“I wanted to apologize I didn’t mean to yell at you but, I need you to understand that that call was risky and not the safest route” The greying brunette stated his voice soft yet still had that gruff underlying accent
“Maybe so, but it’s deeper than that if it was anyone else you wouldn’t have reacted the same… You would’ve praised them for sharp thinking” You shook your head with a the twitch or your lips downward Price straightened up his stance now entering the kitchen fully
“Come one Peaches that’s not true, I would’ve reacted the same for any other it was a risky thing to do and I needed to call you out on it as your Captain the situation at hand just had a little more emotion involved” John just about pleaded for you to understand as you sighed stopping your motion of roughly mixing the apples and sugar together
“I just… want you to know that I don’t need protecting John I’m just as capable on my own than with anyone else” You mumbled turning to put the sugared fruit in the pan the burning eye on the stove giving it heat to cook down before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist eyes peering over your shoulder
“And I know you are, I never doubt you. I do however worry about you because I love you and care for your safety” His tone now matched yours your and he began to smile when you leaned back into him
“I know, I’m sorry for worrying you” You whispered and Price pressed a kiss to the crown of your head in response as you stirred the filling gently momentarily having a second to yourselves before the sound of whisper shouting made its way through the room
“We were wondering if you needed a hand?” Soap questioned bashfully Gaz standing at his side while Ghost stared at the the two from his position at the small dining table with the roll of his eyes
“Tempting boys but, we all know how that would work out” You playfully rolled your eyes and Price chuckled from beside you his heart warm in his chest even if you were younger than Soap and Ghost you still referred to all of them as “the boys”
“Oh come on, that was Soaps fault!” Gaz pleaded and you snickered as the Scott let out an offended noise before the pair began to bicker with one another of who did it as you smiled and giggled at the sight Price watched you with love in his eyes
The sight was as sweet as apple pie.
Tumblr media
©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
398 notes · View notes
hauntingcryptids · 6 months
Text
You’ve Got Good Dreams
Phantom Ghoul x Reader
Summary - The Reader wakes up with a Ghoul on their chest.
Warnings - breaking into a bedroom, Phantom being a cryptid menace
Word Count - 546
A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. The Reader is a Sibling of Sin. I just had this thought that because the other types of Ghouls can manipulate elements, I thought the Quintessence Ghouls could deal with more indeterminable things like feelings and dreams. Just thought that this would be a fun idea to write, so I hope that you enjoy this! :)
———————————————————————————
Your chest felt heavy. Every breath you took required extra effort. Extra effort that you didn’t want to use. You just wanted to continue to sleep before your alarm went off for the morning. In your sleepy haze, you thought that rolling over would solve the problem, but when you tried to move you discovered that you couldn’t. Confused, you fluttered open your eyes, trying to quickly blink away sleep. 
Directly above you was a ghoul. Sitting on your chest and staring at you through the opaque goggles of their mask. Their arms were placed on either side of your head. Clearly, they were trying to keep the majority of their weight off of you and on their arms, but every so often they would lean down closer to you, putting slightly more weight on your chest.
Upon seeing you awake and confused, they crooked their head to the side, looking more like a cat than a ghoul. That’s when you caught sight of this ghoul's horns. Longer and more slender. Phantom. Of course, he would do something like this.
“What are you doing here, Phantom?” You asked, your voice heavy with sleep.
“You were dreaming.” He mused charmingly.
“Well, I was asleep. Most Humans dream when they are asleep.”
“You just felt so content and happy.” The ghoul snapped his neck to the other side and peered over you. If you didn’t know Phantom, you would have taken this movement as a threat. But you knew Phantom and you knew that looming over you and eyeing you like he was inspecting his soul was a common occurrence with the ghoul.
“So, you broke into my room to sit on my chest.” Phantom hummed in acknowledgement and nodded animatedly like a pleased toddler.
“And feel to your calmness.” You could see Phantom smile down at you in the dim light of morning. He wasn’t wearing his balaclava, even around his neck, so he must have left his room in a hurry and forgotten it, as he often did.
His smile was different from the smirks he sent you when he was performing or practising. His smile was also different from the prideful smiles he would send you after he scared you in the hallway or distracted you from your duties around the Ministry. He looked rested. Calm, content and happy. All of the words he had used to describe you a moment ago.
“Anyway, good morning, sibling.” Phantom leant forward, causing you to panic for a moment before his mask-covered forehead lightly pressed against your own forehead. Just as quickly as he invaded your personal space, Phantom left it and jumped off of you and off of your bed. 
“I hope that you have a good day!” Phantom yelled in a sing-songy voice before strutting out of your room. At least he closed your bedroom door behind him, which he always forgot to do just after he was first summoned. 
You let out a sigh. Phantom was going to be the death of you. Before you could mull over all of your growing feelings for the newly summoned ghoul, though, your alarm began to blare throughout your room. At least you could distract yourself from your demonic crush by completing your chores and studies. For now.
154 notes · View notes
ghostlywhiskey · 7 months
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley - My Ghost
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,981
Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ to put it simply, smut.
Summary: You and Ghost are basically friends with benefits.
Notes: Let the record show, I did ZERO proofreading, so cheers if you catch any errors. I forgot Ghost by Halsey existed until it came on my shuffle and...if that song isn't Ghost coded, I don't know what is. But, enjoy!
find my masterlist here
Tumblr media
kiss me in the corridor // but quick to tell me goodbye
“Ghost!” The name hisses out of you as your back comes in contact with the wall. The empty corridor amplifying the sound of the muffled thud of your back hitting the wall. 
Any ounce of confusion or anger towards his action is seemingly turned off like the flick of a light switch the second your eyes lock contact with him. It was the way his hand cupped the right side of your face, demanding the focus onto him. 
“I don’t appreciate being shoved against the wall.” 
“Darling, you’ve let me do far more questionable things.” He teased back. If that balaclava was off, his grin would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
An argument couldn’t even be made against the statement he just made. You knew it, and he definitely did as well.
Rolling your eyes, you glance at either side of the hallway. The anxiety rises at the thought of someone seeing the two of you this close. “Fine. I don’t appreciate being shoved against the wall when there’s a chance someone spots on.” The corrected statement is your comeback. 
Ghost lowers his head down to your level, his left hand tugging the bottom of his balaclava just enough for his lips to be exposed. “Had to get your attention.” The sensation of his breath against you sent shivers down your spine. And before you have a chance to respond, lips graze over yours for a brief moment before you're connected. 
Your hands move to his chest to shove him back, but your effort is half-assed and weak as you cave in. The forceful movement of his tongue into your mouth is welcomed by your lips, as if he’s seeking to fulfill a primal craving brewing in his system. Then, he pulls back.
“See you tonight.” And with that, he walks off and turns the corner at the end. 
‘cause i’m always tugging at your sleeve // and i swear i hate you when you leave // but i like it anyway
Ghosts hands were on your waist as the two of you stood in your room. The kiss you two were locked in starting slow and steady, but quickly becoming more intense. As you felt his hands gently squeeze your sides twice, indicating he was going to pick you up, you pulled back from the kiss.
There was no need for him to speak, this routine…this dance between the two of you was simply motor memory at this point. The little indicators here and there, any stranger the either of you were to intertwine bodies with wouldn’t know what to do. Words would have to be spoken. But, when it’s you and Ghost? It was a movie watched one too many times, a song on repeat that has played so many times you don’t even realize it’s still playing. You knew what would happen next or what needed to be done.
Once he lifted you up, your arms and legs finding their way to securely wrap around his neck and waist. Ghosts own hands moving under your thighs to have a secure hold of you.
His boots thud on the floor as he walks your bodies over to the bed, placing you down on it. Articles of clothing are removed until you lay there completely exposed to him in just your panties. He grabbed the hem of his black compression shirt, his muscles flexing as he pulled it off. The shirt joined your clothes on the floor.
As his hands go to unfasten his belt, you quickly sit up on the bed. Your hands moving his hand away as you unfasten the belt, followed by the zipper of his pants. With a gentle tug down at the waistband, they fall and he steps out to kick them away.
Pushing you back down, he hovers over you. His left hand on the mattress to hold himself up, his right hand grabbing yours one at a time to move and then hold them above your head. At the same time you meet for another kiss, his lower half grinds against you, the feeling of his hard on brushing against your covered core. In response, your hands turned into fists and your hips grinding back.
The feeling of your body rubbing against his is what drove him crazy everytime. You were always so responsive to his actions, there was never a question of whether you were enjoying it or not. Needless to say, you fed into this man's ego. 
He growled. It was the quietest, most guttural growl you’ve ever heard as he separated from the kiss. “You’re always so needy, aren’t you?” He said. 
“Stop toying with me.” You said, the words having two meanings. One of the meanings directed towards his actions now. The other meaning directed towards your feelings that grew for him. But, he couldn’t be to blame. You never told him you started having feelings.
“But it’s so fun watching you beg.” His tone was a teasing one. “I beg you to stop toying with me.” You responded. “No, baby. You know the begging I want.” And with that, he pushed his body against yours again, this time keeping a steady and continuous movement. 
You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your panties having a mark to prove it. He pulled back, examining it as he took his hand that held yours above your head and brushed his thumb across the wet spot. “Ghost, please.” His thumb pressed down, causing you to move your hips up once again. “Please.” You begged once more.
A small nod came from him. Then, his hands on either side of your hips as he pulled the panties down and moved to remove his boxers shortly after. Standing at the end of the bed, he moved back on and his one hand spread your legs apart before it rested on the side of you to hold himself up.  His other hand grabbing his cock, aligning himself at your entrance as he teased it slightly by moving his tip up and down between your folds.
“I- Ghost. Please.” These were the only words to come out of your mouth, the only words you could seem to formulate. There was no snarky remark. You just begged, like you always did. 
Once the please left your lips, he thrusted into you with ease. A soft grunt left him as he adjusted and then started to move at a slow pace. The hand that held his cock now moved to bend one of your legs and hooked his arm around it. Your hands found themselves on either of his biceps, holding onto him as he thrusted.
“So fuckin’ tight.” He muttered, gripping your leg tightly as he pressed himself harder into you. A soft moan was given in response to his movements. A smirk formed on his lips, he thrusted again a little more rough this time. “You like when I’m rough with you, huh? Such a needy fuckin’ girl.” The words from his mouth are like fuel to your brain. 
“Only for you.” You cooed, the contrast of your soft voice to his gruff one was like day and night. “Don’t flatter me. As if I’d let anyone else touch you.” He grunted and thrusted into you, the smacking of skin echoing in the room. 
You cried out as he thrusted into you with stronger force and speed. His hand that wasn’t holding your leg moved to your mouth, putting two fingers into your mouth to quiet you down. “Quiet. Don’t go waking up the entire base.” He hissed, leaning down closer to you. “Understood?” He asked. The only response you were able to give him was a small nod, your mouth closing around his fingers and the soft moans coming from you vibrating against them. 
“Good girl.” Ghost said, watching you as you sucked his fingers. His eyes glossed over with desire, igniting more feelings in him in combination with the sensation of you around his cock
Good girl. The validation. It got you every time. Sometimes you wondered if the praise is what kept you compliant with the situation between the two of you. You never argued or fussed. Never asked for more than what was. Part of you was scared that if you did, it would all go away.
Your walls clenched around him, the feeling of needing to release was building. Like a million knots were being tied in your stomach. Lips around his fingers still, you continued to suck on them. Your tongue swirls around them as if it was your favorite flavor of lollipop. The hands on his biceps tighten their grip, nails digging into his skin. He knows you're close now. Another indicator that allowed you two to communicate without words. 
Ghost felt his own climax building. In a quick motion, he removed his fingers in your mouth and his hand moved to bend your other leg the same as the other. Both arms hooked around your legs, he pulled you as close as possible. 
“You’re gonna keep those eyes on me. I want to see your face when you cum around my cock.” He leaned down close to you, your foreheads almost touching as his thrusts became rough, but more dragged out. “God, I feel you clenched around me. I’d stay buried in you all the time if I could.” He grunted, eyes locked onto yours.
“Ghost, I’m not gonna last much longer.” You whimper, your nails leaving marks in his biceps. 
“Who said anything about lasting longer? I’m so bloody close.” He said. 
Your hands moved to the nape of his neck, keeping his head close to yours. Using any ounce of concentration you could, you focused on clenching and releasing around him a few times. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” He groaned, his forehead resting against yours now. “I’m gonna fill you up.” His lips connected with yours for a brief moment, the kiss quick but sending shock waves down your spine.
Eyes locked onto his, your climax hit you. “Ghost!” Your moan bounced off the walls of the room. He thrusted quickly a few more times before pressing into you, holding himself steady as he came into you.
Both of you stayed still, steadying your breaths as you looked at each other. Not long after, he pulled out of you. 
Once you both had time to clean off, he stood at the side of the bed and started to dress himself. You stayed in the bed but were now under the covers, sitting up as you held the blanket to your chest.  
He never stayed. And you never stayed. Both of you reasoned there was no point if your rooms were so close. You also reasoned this before feelings started building inside of you.  
You watched as he finished getting dressed, reaching for his wrist. “Just stay for the night.” You suggested, looking up at him. He smirked, leaning down. “Another night. Not tonight, I still have some paperwork I need to finish up.” He moved his hand to hold your chin, kissing you softly.
Just stay. And don’t leave. And if you are leaving, why give a soft kiss that made it feel like this was more than just some arrangement between the two of you? A kiss that felt like it belonged to two lovers. 
Both of you pulled back at the same time, your eyes both looking into each other as if there was something you both wanted to say.
“Night, darling.” Ghost said before he pulled on his balaclava and headed out the room, the door closing behind him.
You stayed sitting up, eyes on the door as it closed. “Night, Ghost.” The words leave your lips as you speak to the dark and empty room.
my ghost // where'd you go?
316 notes · View notes
1-ker0sene-1 · 1 month
Note
i’m the era of disabled!reader, would you write something for reader who has epilepsy? 🥺 can’t find any fics in my chosen fandom with epileptic reader (or oc) and it makes me sad 🥺
{I hope you don't mind me pairing with Simon on this one ♥️ I hope you enjoy! And please if I get anything wrong lemme know! I'm more than willing to come back and edit!}
CW: improper seizure safety (not by you or Simon), epilepsy seizure description
In full honesty, Simon didn't know if he could do it in the beginning of your relationship. He didn't think he could handle your seizures.. Of course now- having been properly educated about it. He would absolutely scold himself for thinking that, you just need a little bit of help sometimes. You aren't a damn charity case and he hates when people treat you like it. You deserve to be comfortable and safe, not pitied and prodded at. Not only is he your partner and best friend, Simon has become your biggest advocate. Of support for your condition, but also your independence.
One of the first things you both sat down and talked about when getting serious, was seizure safety. Simon needed to know how to help, at least as much as he possibly could without hurting you. He also learned throughout this, that not all seizures are the same. Sometimes you're just.. Absent, with a flutter of your eyes or a quiet mumble as your gaze flickers to nowhere. You just seem lost for a couple minutes. Other times it's the seizures everyone thinks of, where you stiffen, twitch and seize, sometimes even falling to the floor. How can he help? He's a little stressed when learning that there's not much he can do but carefully maneuver you into a recovery position, put something under your head, and just be there for you.
Simon won't ever forget your scariest seizure, you two were just shopping. Simple. He left your side for forty-eight seconds. Exactly forty-eight, he remembers. He just went to grab something you forgot in a different aisle. Picking up a box of chicken stock for dinner, he hears the slam of your body hitting the floor. He remembers the feeling of his stomach twisting into knots, dropping the container and making a run back to your aisle when he hears someone call out.
It's not you calling, you're far into the seizing, a citizen found you before Simon did. Now it's not the bastards fault, this stranger didn't know how to help you, so in the panic the man was holding your shoulders down trying to still you. Simons hackles raise, words ripped from the masked mans throat instantly.
"Off her- NOW."
Simon didn't think, he just moved, his big meaty hand grabbed the man by the back of the neck and threw him away from you. He's honestly been nicer to enemy soldiers. He didn't even spare the stranger another glance, falling hard to his knees next to you.
" 'm right here baby.. Right here.."
He rips the balaclava off his head, definitely taking a tuff of hair from his scalp. Not that he would notice right now. Simon carefully lifted your head just to slip it under, the softer fabric better than the hard floor. Stroking your hair away from your face, he doesn't hold you down- but his hands are close to you, resting featherlight on your cheek.
"You're safe doll.. I'm right here.. it'll pass."
He murmurs to you, unsure if you're hearing, but either way he keeps talking you through. Now, his arms gently hook under your leg, being as gentle as he can- his hands position you to your recovery position and on your side. Fishing out his phone quickly, he's already got the timer going. Less than five minutes. Please be less than five minutes.
"I have you sweetheart.."
Simon is right by you, watching your every movement closely. He's shoved away any items, just you and him on the floor.
"Should we call an ambulance?"
A stranger asks, Simon shakes his head. Never taking his eyes off you. You just had to go through it. If it's not a long one you should recover alright.
"I have her. Just stay back and move on-"
He snaps, he's stressed, he knows they're just concerned but he doesn't want anyone fucking with you right now. Simons eyes light up as the seizing calms, under two minutes, you're coming back to him. He finally lets out the massive breath he's been holding in. His thumb caresses your cheek.
"You're alright.. there you are.. you're okay."
Simon curls himself closer to you, stroking your cheek as your eyes slowly start adjusting back. You're foggy, confused, he's holding you a little closer and whispering softly.
"it's Simon, love.. Your Simons right here. You're right here.. we're in the store baby."
Now that you were coming back from it, Simon slips himself behind you as he moves you to lay against his chest. It's a while before you're able to be moved, waiting until you're fully alert again, he's taking it slow carrying you back to the car and getting you home. The rest of the week is spent easing you through the recovery. Low lights, he knows your head is aching. Lots. Absolutely lots of sweet talking. His strong girl.. he calls you. Making sure you take your meds on time and get plenty of rest.
"I'm sorry Si.. I didn't mean to scare you.."
You mumble, in bed together. Simon is sat up against the headboard, holding you close on his lap. His hand strokes locks of your hair, shaking his head sternly.
"Don't be apologizin' for anything. Didn't do a damn thing wrong-"
His hand slips to hold your chin, making you lock eyes with him.
"Hear me? Nothin'. I got you.. I'll always have my girl."
261 notes · View notes