#Riley is supposed to hate him…kinda

[arrozconlecheeee]

Some doodles I did for my friend

[feralforfrank]

biker!simon picking you up.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

cw biker simon riley biker simon riley biker simon riley biker simon riley (tojisun's biker!simon has me in a chokehold), NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER

a/n saw this on my timeline, and it was inspired by THIS picture... and i just had a thought. idk.

biker!simon picking you up from work. he's sitting on his bike, helmet off, balaclava lifted just a tiny bit, so he can take drags from his cigarette. (a panty-dropping sight, imo) manspreading kinda. idk. i just have thoughts.

biker!simon, who consistently looks around to make sure his surroundings are safe for when you've closed up shop and are ready to come out. he's glancing at the door you're supposed to be coming off any minute now. he's impatient, he hasn't seen you all day and tbh, he hates your boss for making you close up so late at night.

biker!simon, who can't keep the smile off his face when you walk up to him and smash your lips on his with such force. he can tell you've had a tiring day by the way you cling to his shirt, and your body melts when his huge palm finds the small of your back.

"long day," he asks and hands you the spare helmet you've decorated and now call your own.

you just hum, licking your numb (from the force of the kiss) lips, pulling your helmet down and hopping in the back. biker!simon, who can't wait to get home and make out with you, because fucking hell, you look so good getting on the bike behind him, your soft hands find their place around his waist and grip his jacket, and they're so close his dick. hee has to stop and focus on driving.

—

bonus. biker!simon running his gloved hands up and down your thighs while waiting on the red lights, reminding you he's with you. you tighten your hands around him, silently telling him you're there too.

you bumping your helmet on the back of his when his huge hands travel further than they're supposed to (in front of other cars and pedestrians).

[fayesia]

Sex pollen — Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader 

a/n: Hi quickly wanted to say that it was not supposed to be this long but once I started writing i kinda just went with it lol. I’m also pretty new to writing smut but hopefully y’all like this :D

Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, dirty talk, size difference, rough sex, squirting, lmk if i missed anything!! 

This recent task wasn’t one of the harder ones, easily able to be accomplished in about 2 hours, it was the venture home that took the most out of you. Trudging through the forest with its vast species of fauna and flora had been beautiful but also uncomfortable, from both the exhaustion and the heat of the tropical climate. 

However things only seem to get worse for the team as the sun was setting and darkness surrounded the group from every side. A guttural howl was heard coming from behind, deep in the thick cluster of trees, the beasts were coming out to play.  “Runnnn!!! Go go go, pick up the pace, let’s keep moving!” You heard Simon yelling from your right at the rest of the team lagging behind.“We’re about 100m from base, keep it moving!! We’re all making it back alive tonight no matter what , Let’s GO!” You were about to ask him a question turning your head to the right until your foot got caught on a lifted tree root. 

You stretch out your hands ready to support yourself from crashing head first into large rocks, feeling two muscular arms wrap around you. Unaware of who it was, the both of you start rolling down a ditch off the side of the path leading to home base. Expecting to fall into more rocks, you instead feel the cushion of large soft petals belonging to some unknown plant—a large plant for sure. Quickly sitting up you come face to face with Simon, he rushes to you, looking down as puffs of pink dust rise from the pores of the petals after every step he takes. 

The two of you cough as the pollen invades your nostrils, seeping into every crevice of your combat suits and Simons mask. You try to orientate yourself attempting to get up only to fall down again, sharp pain searing through your ankle, you grab onto Simon for support. “Looks like my ankle took most of the fall eh?” You attempt to lighten up the mood only Simon doesn’t seem to reciprocate this idea. 

“You’re hurt. This isn’t good, we have to get back to base before something else attack-“ his sentence is cut short as he sees you inspecting the tears in your suit. One along the shoulder of your right arm sleeve to your collarbone, another where you injured your ankle and the last one visible to him is on your inner thigh stretching all the way to your hip. Looking up you sheepishly apologise, “sorry heh didnt know so many things would cut through the suit, didn’t want to wear the heavy combat one for such an easy mission.” 

“It’s fine, come on we’ve got to find a way back” he states after a moment of silence as his eyes raked you up and down, you simply took this as his way of assessing the situation of your ankle. Wrapping an arm around his waist he tries to find a path yet as far as your eyes can see in the pitch black of the night is more pink petals. Simons steps only seem to agitate the unknown flora even more causing large clouds of dust to invade your senses. 

“Let’s take a break” you suggest after you both had only ventured a few meters away, but Simons breathing had picked up and his uncommon stumbling seemed to be happening more. You turn to him lightly giggling, “i don’t remember being that heavy to such a big boy like you” 

“no no its not that” he’s quick to reassure you, never wanting you to undermine his strength. “It’s just-i don’t know something in the air is making the temperature rise, don’t you feel it?”

Now, you have been well aware of the heat, the reason you asked to take a break in the first place was because of that, the almost unbearable feeling prickling at every cell in your body. And yes you hated to admit, but mostly attacking your nether regions where the heat seemed to escape from the most. “Y-yeah i feel it to”. Simon stares into your eyes, slowly crawling closer to you in hopes of releasing less dust from his movements. You also near him, briefly pausing before your lightheadedness takes over, causing you to fall straight on top of him. The small size of you is barely enough to push his large frame over, leaving you sat in his lap against his gun— wait why would his gun be in the middle of his pants—oh…Your face turns a deep red but embarrassment is something neither of you have the time or patience for. The contact releases a lengthy groan from Simon and his hips grinding upwards has you moaning with need. 

“Fuck what’s causing this”

“i done have a clue but right now i dont give a fuck i just need to fucking consume every part of you.” His words cause more moans to come out from your mouth. You get to work tugging down his pants pulling out his long fully erect dick, the tip is a pulsing aggressive red and it’s covered in thick throbbing veins. Your hand barely wraps around the girth of it and you’re sure you can’t take all of it, imagining Simon trying to fit it inside of you, prompts more moans to fall from your mouth. This train of dirty images are cut short as Simon flips you on your back, his fingers tug and pull at your suit while you yelp from the sudden movement. Finally his hands take opportunity of the rips caused by your fall, practically tearing the stretchy skin-tight material from you body leaving your top half completely bare. 

“Fuck arent you just beautiful, been hiding all of this the whole time you’ve been on the team huh?” He growls against your skin covered by a thin sheen of sweat. He licks from your neck down to your right nipple and then to your left one. Grabbing the two soft squishy fats of skin into his big hands he pushes them together rubbing his face between the two, “god love your tits so fucking much just molded to fit right in my hands huh”. Unable to reply you simply let out breathy moans at his rough actions.

Crawling lower to where your neediest he runs his hand along you suit covered pussy, feeling the wetness drench the material the more he rubs against you. “Who knew we had such a fucking slut on the team, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet just begging to get filled by a thick cock like mine”. You nod your head, “yes yes please fuck me mmm”. He grabs onto the ripped material at your thigh creating an even larger hole to access your pussy, your suit—if you can even call it that anymore—is now just two scraps of material covering your calves. “Guess i gotta give this whore what she wants” he replies slapping your tits as you moan. “Mhm please touch me, fuck me anything I need you so bad” 

“aw just begging for this cock aren’t you…i don’t think you should have it just yet though, i mean you’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place, isn’t that right?” 

“What no no hhnng please do something anything” at this he lowers himself to lie on his front, grabs onto your hip and drags your pussy a few inches from your face. Immediately you thrust your hips forwards keen for any skin to skin contact. “Mm shit such a pretty pussy just like your pretty face, soaking wet for me” he brings his fingers to your mouth, pushing them past your lips, you suck on them just like you would on his cock drenching the two fingers in copious amounts of spit  bobbing your head up and down. While you were busy with that he lifts up his mask to his nose and sticks out his tongue to lick a large stripe from your ass to clit, finally relieving you as your head falls back against the soft cushions of the petals. 

His first taste of you. He goes wild. Biting at your inner thighs and kissing his way to your sex. Spit is falling from his lips all over your pussy as his mouth travels up and down to every crevice of your vagina. The sinful sounds echo across the eerily silent forest as he plunges two of his spit covered fingers into you, the large size of them easily reaching deeper than your small dainty ones have ever. You’re unable to control your moans as he further stimulates your clit with his mouth and tongue while his fingers push and rub against your g-spot. Your juices drip against his chin mixing with his spit creating more and more fluid to rub all over his face. “Im gonna cum omg Simon fuck keep going”

“just like that baby cum all over me”. With one last curl of his fingers against your walls you feel yourself let go releasing a waterfall of your cum in his mouth and drenching his face in the process. He laps you up like a dog starved of thirst “mmh good fucking slut, gonna reward you now. Stuff my whore nice and full with this dick”

His hands grab your hips flipping you over with a soft thud, pulling your ass flush against his stiff cock positioning your back into a deep arch. He enters you in one swift go smacking your ass as he thrusts in and out. Your nails grip into the petals the same way his did on your ass forming crescent shaped marks across your plump skin. You were sure to wake up with marks everywhere tomorrow, from bites to bruises. 

“Ahhh so good, nice and full now aren’t you, fuckin’ slut was waiting for this to happen weren’t you, probably fell on purpose, wore this tight suit hoping I’d just fuck you” 

“Yesyesyes please let me cum please sir” “let go baby” 

Once again you fall apart on Simons cock tightening and pulsing around the thick intrusion. He drives into you harder getting closer to cumming as you go dumb on his dick. His hand pushes your face into the comfort of the silky petals and your a drooling mess, with the only thought in your head being the way his cook feels inside of you as his balls slap loud and heavily against your clit. The feeling of your wet channel tightening from the overstimulation of his pumping has him reaching his climax, one last hard inward thrust of his hips has him releasing his hot load in you, the amount almost inhumane as it starts spilling out onto the sides of his cock, a white foamy ring of your mixed cum reaching the base. 

He gently pulls out, eyes fixated on the heavenly sight of his cum oozing out from your hole, running down your clit to the petals you lay on. Your laying there like a descended angel with dazed eyes..and the last thing you remember is seeing Simon remove his jacket and crawl over towards you, gently placing a kiss on your forehead. 

(unedited)

[whiskeynwriting]

When You Say My Name

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

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Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Size kink, mask kink, dirty talk, open-ish relationship, kinda cheating?, very brief mention of oral sex (f receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, alcohol consumption

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A/N: Disclaimer - this is written at the point in time before Graves’ betrayal of 141. Also, I hate that bastard. Also also, Ty to @thesleepingmusicneek for beta reading 🥰

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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There once was a time where you were treated that way, like the center of attention, the only girl in the world. He’d keep you close, take you out, buy you drinks and gifts and truly, whatever you wanted. His attention was yours and there was no other woman in the world that could compete with it. Everything you could hope to hear, he’d tell you - you’re perfect, I love you, you’re mine. That was, until about a month ago. Now, all of those privileges have been handed off to whatever woman he deems fit for the night. But that was only supposed to be while he was on leave, not while he was home, and most certainly not in front of your goddamn face.

Easily, tears sting your eyes and a jealous lump forms heavily in your throat. Your veins feel like ice and unpleasant embarrassment creeps through your bones. Out of mere spite, you watch them, heart pounding when you hear Graves greet her with, hey doll, alongside a hug and kiss on the cheek. You thought that was only your nickname; he’d never called another woman that, not in the year you’ve been together. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Phil told you he’d met this woman on his last deployment, and that told you everything you needed to know. You’d assumed with him coming home, you’d spend the evening together, not out at some shitty bar. Still, you came to see him, even though he was acting like he’d rather do anything else than see you. Even off the plane, he greeted you with a simple smile, a half-hug. The only man that approached you with genuine excitement, was Simon.

The hug Ghost gave you lifted your feet from the ground, tight and firm and full of happiness. He’s become a rather close friend as of late; for some reason, you find him easy to talk to. You met when Shadow Company joined 141 on their latest missions, no more than a few months ago now. And since then, you’ve managed to greet each other after every mission, making sure to send the other off when the next trip came around, too. And in between those occasions, Phil would often find the two of you on base together, usually in one of the common rooms. You’d be eating together, or playing pool, sometimes cards. Friendship was the word you often used, but Graves never fully bought it. Slowly but surely, jealousy crept up inside him, and you were more than aware of it.

Right now, though, that nasty, green emotion is consuming you. Your blood boils while you watch him continue to flirt, keeping an arm around her back and a hand securely on her hip. Graves buys her a shot, and then a drink, things he didn’t do for you when you joined him at the bar all but fifteen minutes ago. But then they’re sitting down together and she’s running her hand up his thigh and Christ, you feel like you’re going to be sick. As soon as he approached her, you retreated to the back of the pub, finding the farthest, darkest booth to sulk in. And still, you watch them, torturing yourself.

“All by yourself back here?”

“Fuck,” Jolting, your head snaps up, eyes falling on the bulky figure that is Simon Riley. “Hey, I… yeah.”

“Why’s that?” Casually, he makes himself comfortable, taking the seat across from you with a light sigh. It was something you bonded over, being loners. This type of scene wasn’t his thing, so of course, he came and found you.

Lifting both hands, he sets two glasses on the table, pushing one toward you. “For me?” You ask with a humorous smile, and he nods.

“That fruity thing you like.” Ghost responds before pulling up the edge of his mask to nurse his bourbon. And although you’re in no mood for company, his presence is comforting. Honestly, there’s no one else you’d rather have join you. “Why’re you alone, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart, a name that fell from his lips often. But only for you. Something Graves never liked.

The sentiment behind the name fills you with warmth, alongside the fact that he remembered your drink order. His entire presence prompts a new brew of emotions to swirl inside of you, clashing incredibly with the negativity brought on by Phil.

“Didn’t wanna see any more of that.” Jerking your head in Phil’s direction, you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I, uh…” Ghost looks over as well, taking in the situation. “I’d consider that cheating, if it were me.” He’s honest, he always is.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips; his comment only stirs the embers that were once settling in your gut. “Yeah, well, lucky for him it’s not.”

“What?” Simon scoffs, turning back toward you. You’re not able to see his expressions, not with that balaclava in the way. In fact, you can hardly see any of his features. With his black hood pulled up, that mask on and even those boney gloves covering his fingers, he’s quite hidden. Something you’ve always found alluring about him.

“Yeah…”

“Pardon my prodding, but…” Leaning in, Simon scoffs once again, a type of chuckle bouncing from his lips. “What kind of sense is that?”

Since the very first day you met, Simon had an interest in you. He thought you were gorgeous; a cute, sexy little thing that he wanted to keep close to him. That, on top of his general dislike for Graves, made it easy for him to disapprove of your relationship. And he wasn’t ever too subtle about it, either.

One big, dramatic sigh leaves your mouth, your head tilting back against the booth. “It’s complicated.”

He just shrugs. “Fill me in.” Leaning back, he takes another sip from his glass, watching the way your eyes follow his movements. Ghost allows you to take in this small sight, his scarred skin, his growing stubble, the view not many are given. Intriguing. “Unless, you’d rather I just go…”

“No.” Your response is instant. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just… I don’t want you to think badly of him.”

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks of him.” And you figure, he’s right. Phil isn’t exactly being secretive about this.

“He, well… he asked me for a, um… an open… relationship.” Ghost simply hums, a thoughtful noise as he nods. “He asked for it about a month ago.”

An open relationship, he thinks. Does that mean… she can sleep with other people, too?

“And you agreed to that?”

Another big sigh. “Yeah.”

“But you didn’t want to?” It’s almost like Simon is laying this out for you, trying to get you to see that Graves is just using you. Clearly, this arrangement isn’t fair.

“I… ugh. Yeah. I just didn’t want to cut things off completely, but… it looks like I should’ve just taken the hit. Would’ve been a hell of a lot easier than this.”

“He’s been with other women?” Ghost clarifies, trying to get the full picture. It baffles him, honestly. How could one man be so disloyal? And to you, of all people?

“Yep, quite a few. He tells me almost every time. Claims the honesty is good.”

Simon laughs at this. “Or he’s just clearing his conscience.”

“Exactly.”

A small lull wafts through your conversation, and in this pause, Simon knows what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to ask and absolutely has the balls to ask it. But is it the right time? Would you find his prodding offensive? Genuinely, he does cherish your friendship, but he’s wondering if this is his chance to make it something more.

“And have you?” Simon finally asks, the words coming out gently.

“Hm?”

“Been with anyone?”

The question isn’t exactly shocking. It’s no secret that Simon is interested in you, and with the way the conversation is going, it was only a matter of time before he asked.

“No, it didn’t interest me. I mean, not at first, anyway.” You’re speaking so openly that you don’t even register that you’ve said it before it leaves your mouth. And when it does, your face runs hot, wondering if he caught on to your wording.

“At first?” Of course he caught onto it. Would she be open to it? He wonders enthusiastically, Do I really have a chance of this going my way?

“Yeah, but I’m starting to think…” Fuck it. “Why not?” A dry laugh comes from your throat, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I should just start moving on.”

With excitement stirring inside him, Simon tries his best to suppress the expression on his still-exposed lips, which are now tilting upward into a mischievous grin. This is just what he wants to hear. And now that you’ve given him somewhat of an opening, he thinks he’ll shoot his shot. “Well… you know I’m always here for you.”

“Yeah?” Laughing at his comment, you look up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Would he… would he really do this?

With a wicked smile, Simon squints his eyes at you. Hand wrapped firmly around his glass, those thick fingers slide over the condensation, gaze never parting from your own. “I think you know what it means.”

All too often, all too much, these sinful thoughts have crossed his mind. He’s indulged in them, fantasizing about you every time he got the chance. Thinking about how your perfect ass would look bouncing back against him, lubed up with your velvety heat swallowing him whole. Those pretty lips, what would they look like with your cheeks bulging, throat desperately trying to accommodate him? The way you sway your hips makes him want to pin you down, shove himself inside just to watch his dick press against your belly.

Ghost’s offer, or what seems to be an offer, is shocking to you. Finally, you think; a blatant display of his interest. You were starting to think he’d never make a move.

With one last glance over at Phil, you make an easy decision. Seeing him so blatantly disregard not only you, but your entire relationship, has you fuming. And feeling this much pain makes you want to hurt him back. What better way to do that than with Simon? The same man Graves has been jealous of, the same man you’ve wanted for months.

With a flirtatious smirk, you rest your elbows on the table, leaning your weight onto them. The circumstance has butterflies swarming your stomach, but there isn’t a single ounce of hesitancy inside. Just pure, simple excitement.

“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Now, you need to get the full picture. The last thing you want is to make an even bigger fool of yourself tonight by assuming things.

“I want you.” Simon returns easily. “And you know it, too.”

Playing coy, you shrug, sitting back in your seat. “I don’t know anything. You’ve never made a move.” And your teasing prompts a deep breath from him.

“Well, if I knew about this situation a little sooner, I might’ve.” Eyeing you up and down, Simon’s gaze is slow, saturating your body with his attention. “The late nights we’ve had, those moments on the couch, those sweet hugs every time I come home…”

“I like seeing you come home.” It’s hard to play dumb when you so desperately want him too.

“I wanna come home to you.”

Finally, he’s won, he’s gotten in the last word. Because now, you’re simply stunned. Words escape you, your lips parting in shock. From the way he’s phrasing it, Simon isn’t looking for a simple hookup. He’s interested in you.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ghost then offers, downing the rest of his drink. “I’m gonna head out for a smoke. Whether or not you choose to follow me, is your choice.”

Standing, he steps toward the door, only a few feet from where you’re both seated in the back. But before he leaves, he glances down at you, gently tapping your chin with his thumb. “You know what I want.”

He’s giving you a chance to think this over, to really decide what you want. Because to him, this means more than sex, and you know that.

“Didn’t even have a chance to light a cig.” Simon chuckles, watching you approach him through the dark.

When you find him, he’s leaning up against the bar’s outer wall, cigarette in hand. And when he leans upright, standing to his full height again, you’re mesmerized. Alluring doesn’t do this man justice.

With a small sigh, Ghost watches you step into his space, one gloved hand lifting to your face. He cups it then, swipes his thumb over the bone of your cheek. And his touch feels invigorating on your skin.

“You gonna tell me what you want?”

Offering a small nod, you keep his gaze, something he likes. “You.”

And this time, it’s a gravely sigh, a firm breath as he holds your face with both hands. Easily, smoothly, he’s bringing himself down to you, watching as you rise to the tips of your toes to meet him. You grab onto his forearms, feeling his breath against your face, his lips against your own. And it’s everything you imagined it would be. His kiss is firm and determined; he tastes like betrayal and excitement, like an antidote mixed with poison.

Already, he’s shoving his tongue past your lips and into your mouth, moaning quietly when you reciprocate the action. He doesn’t have an ounce of restraint in him, not anymore, not when you’re acting like this. The eagerness he exudes is so easily returned, like the two of you have been waiting for this moment. And honestly, you don’t know why you haven’t thought about this before. You’re in an open relationship and you haven’t even considered fucking Ghost?

Soft groans vibrate against your mouth before he’s whispering, “C’mere.”

To your delight, he pulls you further in, dropping his hands from your face to your waist. Your height difference prompts him to dive even further down, mouthing at you with an unexpected amount of desire. It fills your insides with excitement, with lust, your nerves sizzling as you continue to chase his touch. And on his end, Simon can barely catch his fucking breath. He’s been waiting for this, fucking dreaming of this. Being this close to you has his heart pounding, his adrenaline rushing.

Naturally, your hands move from his arms to his neck, holding him in the way you’ve been wanting to for so many months. And you think now, Graves finally has something to be jealous of.

“You want me?” Simon asks again, smile growing against your lips. Boldly, those broad palms find your ass, squeezing harshly.

There hasn’t been a single goddamn day in your relationship with Graves where you felt this good, this desired, this genuinely wanted. The way Simon kisses you is dizzying and he tastes like fucking nirvana. Everything about this man is a turn on, from his strength and power to the raw masculinity you so obviously drool over. You’ve longed for this, dreamt about this, what it would feel like to kiss him, touch him, fuck him.

“Yes, yeah.” Your nod is rapid, fingers petting along that sharp jawline.

“I want you; I want you, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling against your lips, moaning wantonly when your tongue makes its way into his mouth. Eagerly, he returns the sentiment, running the wet muscle over your own in slow, heated strokes. “I want you now.”

Regardless of his wording, you don’t expect him to pull you back the way he does, yanking you into the bar’s side alley. Pushing you into the cold, brick wall, Simon presses himself to your back, whispering gruffly into your ear, “That too rough for you?”

Already, he’s rubbing himself against your ass, grinding himself over your taught jeans and wrapping both arms around your belly. Those sinfully sweet lips then find a home on your neck, along your jaw. Everything is moving so fast that it has your heart racing, blood rushing, arousal flooding your system and burning hot between your legs.

Before you can respond, he’s reaching up with both hands, fondling you over your shirt. And the unexpected action has a shiver running throughout the entirety of your body, feeling those broad palms fist your breasts, running his thumbs over the nipples, groping them with overt enthusiasm.

“Perfect fucking tits…”

“No,” Meeting his actions, you soon form a rhythm, swaying your hips back against him. “I like, like when you’re rough.” It’s almost embarrassing, the way you stutter. But you can’t find it in you to care, not when he groans with approval against the base of your neck.

Even through his jeans, you can feel him, hanging thick and heavy between his legs. Continually, he ruts his crotch against your ass, holding you close while breathing humid breaths down your neck and back.

“Fuck… you already feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Ghost chuckles, grabbing onto your hips. “I can make you feel better.”

“Please.” It’s taking everything in you to not reach behind and pull off his mask, to not run your fingers through his hair and tug on the strands.

“Here?” He clarifies, more than willing. And you’ve never done anything close to this but you’ve also never been more excited in your entire goddamn life.

“Yeah,” Nodding, you gulp, feeling dizzy from his affection. “Yes, baby.”

Drunk on him and maybe your few drinks, you’re still sober enough to know you won’t regret any of this. Whether it’s a one-time thing or the start of something more, you won’t regret this.

“Mm…” Using both hands, he cups you, kneading the covered flesh of your backside with slow, firm grabs. He’s eyed you up and down so many times before tonight, imagining what it’d be like to grab you like this. But even through his unwavering lust, he has to be honest. “Haven’t got a condom, love.” It comes out as a mumble, the only time you’ve ever heard Ghost become hesitant.

“I didn’t want one.” It comes alongside a small laugh, a cheeky grin he can just barely see.

Instantly, he’s releasing a breath, moving spit-slick lips to your cheek for a quick kiss. “Perfect girl.” With a pleasant smile of his own, he drops his chin to your shoulder, fingers moving to undo your jeans. And the small ounce of praise has your insides flaming. “My girl.”

His, his.

Keeping his chin against your shoulder, he glances down, sighing when he pushes your jeans past the swell of your backside. Another squeeze, eyes glued to the sight of your bare skin, just as soft and smooth as he’d always imagined. Briefly, he wants to drop to his knees, kiss the sweet flesh he’s only gotten small teases of, bite into it, mark it. But he doesn’t have time for that, not when you’re out in public like this.

Unzipping his fly and popping the button on his pants is quick work, and though the lull is brief, your anticipation continues to grow evermore. You can feel the moment he’s free, resting himself between your cheeks. He’s hot to the touch, and noticeably throbbing.

“Baby…” Slowly, he slides, up and down between your cheeks. A wet trail quickly forms, his prespend smearing across your lower back.

“You want me?” He says it while slithering a hand around to your front, hooking two fingers into your panties so he can pull them down. Forgoing his aggressive nature for this moment, for you, two fingers then find your throbbing nerves, his touch sweet and delicate.

“Yes.”

“Need you to say it, love.” His entire body is pressed against your back, keeping you warm and safe. “Need you to tell me.”

Thick fingers toy with your entrance, dipping inside to get a small taste of your wetness, and it feels like fireworks are going off inside your stomach. He then drags both digits up to your clit, circling it while kissing your neck.

“I want you,” Lolling your head back onto his shoulder, you’re surprised at how quickly he then moves. Instantly, he’s retracting his hand and pumping himself against your ass, using the other to spread you open.

“Say it again.” Ghost requests, pressing himself against your thin skin, your pink lips.

“I want you.”

With his swollen tip spreading you open from behind, he pushes forward, groaning openly at your welcoming warmth. Every inch is intimidating, the push of his hips forcing you to accommodate him. Which is easy, especially when he licks up your neck, kissing your jawline and cheek. It’s sloppy, the way he mouths at you, the passion he gives you.

“Simon,” Both palms help to steady yourself against the wall as he continues, shoving himself inside inch by devastating inch. Christ, you can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have him in your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” A forced breath, like the wind had just been knocked from his lungs. It’s only released when he’s entirely inside, pelvis flush with your ass. “Christ, love when you say my name.”

Both of those strong arms then wrap themselves around your center, keeping you entirely against him. Almost naturally, you’re dropping a hand, cupping the space between your legs. You can’t help it, you just want to feel him, your fingertips caressing his base, his scrotum. And that has him losing his goddamn mind, throbbing against your walls in return. Nosing gently over your head, he groans - hums, the simple action showing him just how much you adore this.

Running a hand down your outer thigh, Ghost begins to move, his actions slow but firm. And every drag lights your insides on fire; it’s such an adrenaline rush to finally have him inside.

“How can that bastard ignore you like that?” Simon mumbles, more so to himself than anything else. “Look so fucking sexy in this… perfect body, in these tight little jeans.”

“Baby…” His thrusts are becoming quicker, harder, working himself up to the breaking point that’s soon to come. But not too fast, he wants to make this last.

“Been wanting to feel you since Graves brought you to base.” Ghost suddenly admits, the smack of his pelvis against your skin beginning to radiate into the night.

The words he’s using are truly a force to be reckoned with, every single syllable melting you to absolute putty at his feet. He sounds so serious and genuine, so dominant, so possessive. This is everything you’ve wanted.

Breathless, you look back at him, an adoring smirk crossing your face. “Really?”

“Fuck, yes.” Nipping aggressively at your neck, he moans, Ghost fucking moans.

“You should’ve said something earlier then.”

And at that comment, you think back to Phil. Should you really be doing this? You know it will upset him; but whether or not he has a right to be upset has yet to be determined.

“Yeah? Would you have chosen me instead?” Bringing you back to the present is that gravelly voice, deep and beautifully accented.

Yeah… fuck Graves, and fuck that relationship.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” Simon asks again, pleasantly surprised by your answer.

“Fuck yes.” Reaching back, you find his head, hand sliding down the nape of his neck. You need to hold onto him, somehow, you need to feel more of him.

Honestly, you would have. And you don’t care if that makes you a shitty person or a shitty girlfriend; you gave your all to Phil and he took it for granted.

“You really mean that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, baby. I’m so happy you want me.” Forcing yourself back against him, you bounce off his pelvis, driving him deeper inside.

“Christ,” Dropping his head, his face falls to your bare shoulder, mouthing at you again and again.

Laughing, you chastise him gently. “You’re gonna leave a mark.”

“Want to.” Comes his returned mumble, hands securing themselves to your hips. “Fuck.”

It’s like he can’t even see straight; feeling the gorgeous woman that you are rolling your hips back against him. Asking for more, pulling him in for more.

In the middle of the night, half naked in a fucking backalley, you feel so incredibly exposed; but Ghost makes it feel like you’ve been doing this together all your lives. He touches you like he knows you, like he’s done it a million times. It’s comforting, his presence exuding a warm sense of safety.

Rolling your hips backward, your brows furrow, soft moans continuing to escape you. Images of Simon’s fully naked body suddenly begin to run rampant in your mind, wishing so desperately to experience more of him. His muscles and scars, the light blonde hair leading down to his pelvis, his broad back and wide hands. You want to touch every inch of him, hold him, feel him.

Christ, did you pick the wrong man when you met them. Simon feels so incredibly different than Graves; veinier, thicker. Every inch forces you open, spreads your legs just a bit wider, makes your whines just a little bit higher. It hurts so good and you can’t help but cry out for him.

“Oh… I love that.” Simon admits, slowing to a harsh grind against your ass.

“Baby,”

“You like how that feels?” Pulling out only about an inch or so, he shoves himself back in, harsh but not aggressive.

Simon’s body reacts so openly to your own, his lungs shivering with every breath just from the feeling, the sensation of your warmth. And every movement creates a delicious force of friction between your bodies, heat building, arousal peaking.

“Give me control,” He rumbles deeply into your ear, lips briefly brushing by. “Let me show you how good it can be.”

You can smell the bourbon on his breath, can feel the way he grabs for your hips and ass. And at that moment, you fully give in, halting your sultry motions and letting him do whatever the fuck he wants.

“Keep holding onto me like that,” He requests, feeling your nails dig into the skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, it turns me on.”

“Simon, fuck I, I can’t…”

“Can't what, sweetheart?” He’s kissing all over your face, your cheek and chin and jaw, sloppy movements to match his increasingly erratic thrusts.

“Can’t believe I didn’t choose you.”

And that shoots a surge of energy through his bones, his thrusts now the product of his unwavering strength. It forces you to shriek, to cry out for him and release the most beautifully whorish sound Simon’s ever heard in his entire life. He fucks into you relentlessly, one arm sliding up to grope your chest again.

“We’re not being very subtle.” Choking out the words, you huff, feeling him punch against your most delicate spot.

“Don’t give a damn.” Comes his mumbled response, mouthing at your neck. “You’re mine, and I want Graves to see.”

“Really, baby?” Your breaths are rapid and heavy, lightheaded from everything you’re experiencing.

“Unless you tell me no, unless I hear otherwise, you’re mine.”

Dipping a hand down, he finds your precious little bud, rubbing firm circles into it. Immediately, your hips jerk beneath his touch, gasps floating from your throat.

“Look how responsive you are,” Nuzzling into your cheek, he kisses it. “Pretty little lover.”

“Baby,” Said alongside a breathless smile, you open your eyes, wishing to see his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He feels so warm around you, inside you, keeping you beneath the sturdy barricade of his arms. You want to be his, more than anything in this moment.

“How could any man stray away from you?” He wonders aloud. “Perfect fucking cunt, gorgeous goddamn face.”

Repeatedly, he sinks in to the hilt, bouncing his hips back and forth with easy sways, slapping himself against the seam of your slippery cunt. He wants more than anything to feel your body, your bare skin, have you completely exposed to him. And he’s promising himself that he’ll make that happen.

“Christ, babe,” Huffing out a flurry of rapid breaths, he admits, “I’m close.”

“Baby, fuck.” A whimper slips from your mouth, eyes shutting firmly. You can feel the way he pulses against your walls, can feel the stutter in his hips.

The heat of euphoria curls tightly in his abdomen, the combination of arousal and possession pushing him over the edge. It’s fierce, powerful, legs shaking and breath punching from his chest. But still, he remembers to pull out, free hand shoving your jacket up while the other fists himself. Hot spurts shoot over your lower back, trickling down your ass. It’s sticky and wet but it turns you on more than anything, feeling him cum on you like this.

“Simon,” Arching your back for him, you listen to his ragged breaths, feeling how rapidly he pumps his shaft.

“Fuck me,” Ghost finally speaks, slowing his movements and taking a look at the mess he’s made. “Fuck me…”

Leaning further in, he sighs, kissing the back of your neck while tucking himself away. He’s careful to not get any of his own spend on his hoodie, but when he pulls away, realizes he got some on your jacket by accident.

“Shit, sorry about that.”

“Huh?” Turning around, you finally face him, blissed out expressions taking in the other’s. Briefly, he smiles, until he explains, “Got a little bit on your jacket.”

Surprisingly, you huff a sarcastic laugh, slipping your arms from the material and dropping it to the ground. “It was Phil’s, anyways.”

“Well shit,” Ghost exclaims, picking it up again. “Would've gotten a lot more on it if I’d known that.” All you do is roll your eyes, with the slightest smirk. “Turn around.”

He nods in your direction, watching you follow his request. Using the jacket he cleans his cum off your back, wiping it away before discarding the clothing once again. And then Ghost is pressing himself against your back, kissing your neck while pulling up your pants. He zips them, buttons them, feeling your cheeks plump with a grin.

“Si?”

“Yeah, love?”

Turning around in his hold, you release a wavering breath, hands sliding up his forearms. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Your voice is soft and quiet, hesitant. “I know it’s difficult, when you’re on leave…”

“Not for me.” Instantly, you give him a look of apprehension. But he just shrugs. “Don’t really fancy the barracks bunnies we get. And with the looks of you…” Reaching out, he cups your chin, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks. “Pretty thing you are… I won’t have a problem being loyal.”

Suddenly, he’s removing himself from you, sliding his arms from the confines of his black hoodie. “Wanna head back to the bar?” He asks while shuffling out of the sleeves, finally taking it off his body. “Or back to base?”

“I don’t really wanna go back in there…” Your response is incredibly timid, not wanting to disappoint him if he wants to stay out.

“Perfect.” If he hasn’t made it clear, Simon isn’t exactly a people person. And then, to your dismay, he pulls down his mask, hiding that gorgeous grin. “Here, love. It’s chilly out.”

He’s handing you his hoodie, the black one he was just wearing. And when you take it in your hands, you realize it has his rank and last name on the back.

“Really?” You’ve never had anything like this, Graves never wanted you to wear anything with his name on it.

“Put it on, babe.” He nods once, cupping your jaw and giving your cheek a kiss through the cloth of his mask. “Keep it.”

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 11: silence

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: hello, yes i like to hurt my feelings, and yes I had lot of fun writing this one, reblogs are really appreciated and pls let me know what you think, this chapter is kinda important to me

CW/TW: mentions of death, loss, trauma, violence, assault, angst, hurt, use of y/n and petnames (difference in the petnames is intended)

wordcount: 3.8k

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"I dinnea ever again will hit the gym with yer two.", Johnny whined while pearls of sweat ran down his forehead. "Nobody asked ya to be here.", Ghost said, maybe a bit sarcastic, but still a serious tone hidden in between. You only chuckled while catching your breath. You had a chat with one of the other Sergeants a day back and he recommended a good work out, but you needed at least three persons for it to be efficient. To give yourself a challenge, you didn't hesitate to ask Simon and then Johnny. "Well, bonnie here did.", he smiled – a knowing smile - aimed at Ghost. They started a full-on argument about it but you didn't listen. Only caught fragments of burgers, tanks, and tea. You didn't pay much attention; your glance was pinned onto the screen of your phone. Price had called you, at least three times and a message was left, that you should see him in his office as soon as possible. "Gotta go. Cap wants to see me.", you stuffed the phone back into the pocket before waving your goodbye. "Dinnea forget about dinner tonight!", Johnny yelled after you, what earned him a simple thumbs up by you before running around the corner.

"Dinner?", Simon didn't want to ask, he really didn’t but sometimes his mouth was faster than his mind. Something that happened rarely, but even more when it comes to you. He had sworn to stop that. Invading your privacy like he did with the dog tag of your dead friend. If there would be something he needed to know, you would tell him. You trusted him. He trusted you. Still, he hated the feeling in his guts as Johnny asked you about dinner. Just like he hated the feeling boiling up in him when Johnny sat next to you instead of himself. "Yer ken, just some mates havin' dinner together.", Johnny wore one of the most mischievous grins he could. He didn't look at him, but he felt how Simon stared daggers at him. What Simon didn’t get to hear, that the dinner was supposed to be the whole team, but Johnny kept that part to himself. The reaction from his Lieutenant made it worthy, until he heard the harsh tone from him again. "Another round, Sergeant." - "Oh, c'mon."

Just as you wanted to knock at the door, of Price's office, it already swung open, and Kyle investigated your face. "Brought ya someone.", he stated while moving to the side and gifted you a quick but honest smile before you entered the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?", your voice serious but soft. You walked over to the desk where Price was seated. "I might need your help to find a solution for all that mess.", he said while pointing to the chair and you sat down, looking at your captain with anticipation. Price explained the whole situation and that there was one person that could gather intel to lead the whole operation forward. The problem was, this person was announced MIA like two months ago, but there was a little hint to find him. Laswell worked the last weeks to find his trace. He should’ve been held hostage for the whole time in an old chem factory taken by Russian terrorists. Biggest problem about it; another military organization is already trying to get rid of the occupier. That way the 141 couldn't just head out. Especially when the deployed team and yours were known to be not getting along quite well. You couldn't just walk in and get your man out of there and act like nothing happened. Price found out who led the operation on location, and that was your entry.

You knew him, way too well. "You’re asking me to reach out to request a favour?" - "Unfortunately, I think it's our best shot at the moment." You stayed silent, eyes trailing to your hands folded in your lap. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask for. But we don't want them to help us, just to lay down their work for a day that we can go in and out. Maybe it can even help them..." You stayed silent. "It isn't an order, you know." Your silence made Price feel uneasy. But you were so entangled with your own thoughts that you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

It's been over a year now, a year of distance between the two of you and now you should approach him like nothing happened. That was almost impossible. You couldn't just call him. You couldn’t reach out to him, like you did nothing wrong to him. You simply couldn't, "Gonna take care of it.", and you did. Your work brain took over.

It took you some time to achieve what was requested and to your fortune you had achieved it without calling him directly. He was on the front line anyways. That way you found yourself surrounded by Soap, Gaz and Ghost on the way to the border from Uzbekistan. Price wasn't there, he had to take care of another problem, Laswell and he needed to solve before your return. Wearing the black mask, eyes closed you listened to your surroundings. Gaz' and Soap's talk, the steady and deep breathing from Ghost who sat next to you again. It gave you a familiar grounded comfort before leaving the vehicle to go after your target.

You needed to operate with a huge level of fineness. Pulling as less as possible attention while freeing your man. That's why you decided to split up. Ghost and you should march first, you were the most quiet and the best of the team to act in the shadows. Gaz and Soap built the rearguard to take cover of you from higher levels. Everything seemed to go right to plan. Within an hour you found your man and was able to free him. Ghost steadied him and you watched his six while making your way back to the exit.

That was the turning point, from now on the mission just went south. Gaz couldn't keep you covered because he needed to cover his partner. Both got literally overrun by enemies. Just when you lost Gaz over the comms, you got distracted as Ghost lost grip of the hostage. That's how you caught a bullet in your shoulder. Nothing to worry too much about it, but the pain was ringing through your body. You kept pushing it down. Kyle and Johnny were long gone, and you switched channels at your comms really quick before you pushed further forward. Just then you caught a familiar face. It was a face printed on a photo Price showed you weeks ago when you had to eliminate two men. This image in front of you instantly made you stop in your tracks. "Impossible.", you breathed out nearly inaudible when Ghost stopped to look after you. His voice was harsh. "Sergeant?" But before you could answer him, a huge trembling of those old and rusty metal floors caught your attention more. "Keep moving.", Ghost now yelled at you, and you did. Running to the point where you entered the factory. The metallic bridge you had to run over did collapsed into itself before you reached the other side and dragged you down. Ghost tried to catch a fracture of your tactic vest, but you were already gone. Somewhere levels below your actual exit point.

You could muffle the impact of the harsh ground a bit, still you groaned in pain. "Sergeant, you broken?", you heard Ghost's voice over the comms. It sounded as serious and stern as always. The hole in your shoulder made it so much more difficult to breathe right now. You needed to steady yourself. "Skadi, status?!", his voice got more demanding or even desperate. You couldn't tell. He was already on his way down, as you didn't answer him. You took a few deep breaths before pushing the button on your communication device. "Steady. Need another way out. I guess."

He instantly stopped his movement. Ghost didn't realize he held his breath until you spoke, that's why he let out a deep exhale of relief. "Let's see if I can help.", he answered and that earned him a quite chuckle form you. "Take our man outside, Lieutenant, rendezvous at evac. I'll be there." - "Don't do something stupid, Sergeant." You didn't answer him, but you felt a harsh pain piercing through your chest. Not caused through the fall, no, caused of his choosing of words. Words you heard all so often. You pushed yourself up, grip tight around your rifle while searching for another way out of that factory.

Ghost brought the hostage to the evac point before reaching out to you again. You weren't here. "Sergeant, location?" Soap was already seated in the jeep, Gaz just arriving. His comms were destroyed, Soap had dust and sticky liquids all over his gear. But after all they still looked alright. Soap wanted to ask about you, but suddenly another quake brought their attention back to the factory. "Status, now!!", Simon yelled in the comms. The men could witness an explosion going off in the upper levels of the factory. Johnny reached out to his comms after you didn't answer. "C'mon bonnie. Where are yer?" Still no answer. Ghost could feel his stomach turn. He could feel how the grip around the little device at his vest tightened. Soap and Gaz already talked nine tin to a dozen, but none of their words met his ears. "Stay here!", he hissed out a order before running towards the factory. Soap and Gaz didn't even try to protest, they knew Ghost had already chosen. He couldn't afford to bring them right into the danger zone. It was enough to endure that you were out there. He couldn't afford to lose you. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he could have changed something. And he could, so he would. He wasn’t the helpless little boy from Manchester anymore. He could protect what he held dear to him now.

His feet dragged him faster than ever to the place your ways parted. His eyes scanning for a hint of your figure. His comms switched to the private channel he had with you. "Skadi?!" His voice was so broken, he could feel how a rope laced around his throat. "Skadi, please." He ran through the building, finding bodies laying everywhere around, always scared to look if it might be yours. But they were all too tall for your figure. A figure that shouldn't have to endure all that like he had to. He heard a distant exchange of fire. Then a crack in his comms and immediately stopped in his track. "Skadi??", his breath was uneven, his chest lifting heavy. "Backup's here.", an unfamiliar raspy voice echoed through his head. Backup? They never called for backup, but that would explain the gunshots he heard from afar. He didn't give it another thought before continuing his search for you. He only had one goal, finding you, alive and bringing you back. Back home, not to this shitty apartment in Birmingham you told Simon about. No, he would make sure that you feel at home wherever you wanted and deep down he hoped it would be besides him.

"y/n, please tell me your location.", his voice was desperate. This silence killed him. He never hated silence, especially not when you were next to him. Your sheer presence providing him a feeling of safety. But this damn radio silence, not knowing what happened to you, or if you were injured. His mind already flashing him with images of a blood-stained body. An image that joined the row of images in his head. A deep groan left his throat, no, he wouldn't let this happen. You were not supposed to take a place with them. You're supposed to stay at his side. In that moment he wished that you were back at the patio. Watching as the sun lowers itself, painting the sky red and orange. In this comforting silence sharing those disgusting fags of yours. He hated them to be honest, but the small smile on your lips when he took one of them made it worthy. "Please, just anything."

That's when his eyes found something familiar. The little blue box he found some time ago on that same patio. At a time when he had never thought he would need you. But he did. He was on the right track. His eyes instinctively scanning for other hints when he finally heard your voice. Without hesitation and with a tight grip around the rifle he ran after the echo your scream was coming from. Hold on a little while longer, he thought to himself.

As soon as he rounded the corner he froze. A vicious frame burned itself inside his brain. A tall statue was holding you up in the air. A gloved hand around your throat, while the other pushed a knife into the side of your abdomen. Your hands clung sloppy on the arm of the man in front of you. The last attempt to keep the air flowing in your system. Your mask was crooked, making it even harder to breath. The tactic vest long gone from your body, ripped down leaving you only in your bodice, already soaked in the carmine liquid. Simon saw red. His mind was completely empty, only one thought was running through. You.

His temporarily paralyses lead to a huge mistake, something he would regret so often in his life. In those little seconds where he stood frozen, taking the scenery in front of him in, your opposite took notice of his appearance. Those seconds did decide about life or death of both of you. Before Ghost could draw his rifle and take him out, the man spun around, turning you with him. Your back pressed against his front. Leaving your throat, so you could finally breath a bit more. He held you close to his chest, using you as a shield as he drew his own gun and pressing the cold barrel against the side of your head. "Gun down, we don't want to destroy that pretty face, do we?!", he yelled over with a Russian accent, and it made Ghost's jaw clench. He was the reason you were in this situation. His emotions blinding him and now he wasn't able to make it up to you. But he had to. No matter what it takes, he would take care of you and bring you home. "Did I speak unclear?!", the man yelled again while pressing the cold metal even further into your skull. Your eyes were squeezed shut. You could barely make out the silhouette in front of you.

To your fortune he left the knife inside, that gave you a bit of a chance to not completely bleed out right here. Everything felt numb and sore at the same time. You could feel your eyes rolling back in your head. But you forced them back, using the last bit of adrenaline to look back onto Ghost and shaking your head. Only the slightest. Only to signaling him that it was okay. You knew they were safe. He should leave. Your eyes closed again. You knew you did all you could. Ghost slowly put the rifle down. Lifting his hands in defense. "Let her go and we'll leave.", he demanded but the man only laughed. Simon's hands were trembling. The anger inside of him as high as the anxiety. He couldn't afford to lose you. He didn't want to add your images to those of his family. He carefully took a step forward, what immediately earned him a shot in the air. A warning shot. He froze again. He only once felt so helpless before. But this situation was too new for him. He felt like drowning. He wanted to hold you, carrying you out of here back to your bed. You were so close to him and still, he couldn't reach you. What would Price say? What would Johnny say? What would Kyle say? It didn’t matter because he would rather die right here than seeing you all riddled up.

The next moment felt unreal to everyone in this room. Especially for the Russian. Before Simon even realized what happened, he saw both of you going down to the ground. He didn't need another signal, started sprinting towards you. Completely ignoring his own safety. You only felt another painful impact, before a darkness washed over your sight. Another crackle in his comms and there was this unfamiliar voice again. "The motherfucker is down!", but Simon didn't care about that guy. He only cared about you. He was already on his way. Your figure laying on the floor. Within seconds he was by your side, pulling you in his lap. Immediately ripping of the mask off your face to give you the chance to breathe properly before he checked your pulse. "Lieu....t..." your voice was raspy, and low, barely audible. "'m here. 'm here. Just stay with me, that's an order. Ya hear me.", he pressed you close to his chest, your head steadied in the crook of his neck. "Yer...yer not gettin’ ...rid of me that easily.", you breathed out exhausted, your accent thicker than usual. Every breath sent a piercing pain through your chest. Simon chuckled in relief, then there was another crack in the comms. A low laugh could be heard. You could hear it as well, as your head was close to Ghost's earpiece. You opened your heavy eyelids. "Always having your back, mein Engel." [my angel], the voice came again through the comms, sweeter and softer than before while your head fell back, even further into your Lieutenant and a smile appeared on your lips. "Get her out of here big boy.", a quick switch to the deeper demanding voice, "I'll cover you." Ghost nearly ignored him, he only had ears for your little pants, especially as you closed your eyes again. He shuffled you around and cupped your face. Making sure not to cause any more pain than anyhow.

"Eyes open, Sergeant. Look at me, Skadi.", he plead. "C'mon.", you could hear him, but it sounded so distant. "We need ya out of here. But ya need to open those pretty eyes f' me first.", you were sure you were already gone. His voice sounded so soft and the number of words. He never talked so much before. God, you wished he did. "y/n please, look at me." You slowly forced your eyes open, and they found his. Those dark eyes looking down at you, filled with worry but at the same time with determination and a hint of adoration. The way he looked at you changed since your first days with him, and a weak smile formed again on your lips, your face relaxed. If that would be the way you'd die, you'd be fine with it. Looking in his eyes, dying in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. Is that what Randy thought in his last moments? It felt peaceful.

"That's it, luv. Keep them open f' me." He didn't care about the choosing of his words, he didn't care about his heart nearly leaving his chest, he only cared getting you out of here. He pulled out the box you lost earlier. "Here, hold on. Randy will be pissed if ya’d lose it.", he pushed the box into your hands, and you clung to it with the rest of strength that was left in your body. Your eyelids weighted tons, but your tried to keep them focused on the little box in your hand and Simon's voice helped to keep your head clear. This beautiful melody in your ears, a melody that symbolized safety. Ghost pushed the button on his comms again "MacTavish, move the fuckin jeep over here.", he ordered before lifting you up as careful as possible. "Just hold on a little while longer."

He carried you through the mess of factory. Ignoring everything around him. His focused laid onto you, onto your chest that's still moving and on your eyes. He started searching for the jeep as soon as the beams of sunlight brushed over his eyes. "Don't leave me, ya hear me."

Johnny pulled over and Kyle helped to move you into it. Simon kept you in his lap, against his chest. His huge hands found your cheeks, tilting your head into his direction. "Not falling asleep on me this time, alright.", he said calm. Kyle held onto the weak body of the hostage while he yelled at Johnny as the jeep went through the thick vegetation, already taking care of medevac. Simon ignored them. He whispered sweet nothings and praises into your direction. Trying to suppress the panic in his voice. It only got worse when you slowly closed your eyes again. "No, no, no. Ya have to stay awake. Keep listin' to me. I know ya able to.", his voice was so broken. There were so many more things he wanted to say to you, so many things he wanted to show you. He needed more time. "y/n, please. Stay with me.", he bended over, bringing his masked head to yours. "Don't leave me.", his forehead pressed against yours, while keeping your body steady against his own. Johnny and Kyle still yelling at each other, while Soap drove like a madman.

"Simon...", your voice was weak, just a whisper but he heard you and nearly melted when you approached him. " 'm here, love." He moved his head away from yours to look at you. Your eyes were still closed, but your lips were moving. "Johnny told me...ya good with jokes. Think I need something... something to laugh.", you breathed out while still clinging to the box in your hand. Your voice was filled with pain; every word that left your lips hurt and still you were able to soften the tone. Simon let out a nearly inaudible chuckle. He wanted to scold you, tell you to spare your strength. Tell you so much more than a sloppy joke, but he didn't. " Why did the coffee call the police?”, he paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.  “It got mugged.", his voice was so calm and soft. You did sink further into him while a weak chuckle left your lips. "That's...", you weren't able to complete the sentence anymore as you fell into a darkness. The grip around the box loosening. "No, nooo!!!", Simon's voice trembled, there were cracks in it. The silence was an old friend of him, but this friend pushed a knife right through his heart.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1400 HOURS

"You're movin' too much, still."

"You are quite literally breathing down my neck.  Kinda hard not to."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, love.  'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."

You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle.  Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course. 

Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation.  The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape.  You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead.  Keep things equal.  Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.

The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out.  A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.  

You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice.  Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room.  Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him.  It quickly became something of a race.

When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind.  For some reason, it made him smile, too.

"I hate sniper duty," you grumble.  "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."

"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."

"And what's that?"

"Patience."

You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless.  A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation.  He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things.  As it would turn out, you were good company.  Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless. 

You were improving, too.  Temperament and strength-wise.  How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.

"You're not funny," you retort.

"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."

You huff and shoot him a look.  "Did I get it done?"

"Affirmative."

"And did I beat you while doing it?"

He shrugs.  "More or less."

"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."

His eyebrows raise, amused.  "Is that a threat I hear?"

"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."

He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought.  "I'd like to see you try, Angel."

You smile, gaze focused through the scope.  You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes.  The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.  

"Ghost."

"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.

You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.

"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air.  "And my lighter."

He shakes his head with an amused smirk.   "You're supposed to be focusing."

"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."

"And what if this is a real scenario?  You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."

"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again.  "So gimme."

He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.  

"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack.  "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it." 

You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you.  He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it.  You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale.  When he looks up, you're already looking at him.  He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.

A beat passes where you both just stare at each other.  Simon finds he can't read your expression.  Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.

"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed.  "At your twelve o' clock.  About four kilometers out."

Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck.  What the hell was that? 

"Copy that."

You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag.  For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1800 HOURS

Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering.  He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away.  You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them.  Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit.  Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.

Roger's Back.

Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble.  After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now.  Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him.  He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.  

That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.

He's massive, is Simon's first thought.  The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.  

Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.

There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch.  There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.

Ah.  Roger.  The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.

The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.  

Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure.  Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert.  Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken.  In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.

And you're uncomfortable.  Tense.  Ready to bite at a moment's notice.

You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you.  Some words are exchanged.  You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.  

You hold your ground.  You don't punch first—just like Simon told you.  He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips.  Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first.  Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.

Next time, the man says.  Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.

Simon watches you think about it.  He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust.  But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill.  You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.

You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off.  Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder.  His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.

It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall.  Roger lets out a startled yelp.

"You lay another finger on her," he snarls.  "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"

Roger's eyes are wide.  The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.

"I said do you copy?"

"Yes—yes, sir.  Copy and check."

Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."

Roger stumbles.  Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.

He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Eyes Without A Face - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Words: 6,533

Warnings: 18+ - enemies to lovers (kinda sorta), some angst, canon typical violence, weapons, cursing. SMUT - oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, slightly rough.

Summary: You swear Ghost doesn't like you, but you couldn't be farther from the truth.

A/N: I haven't written Ghost since 2015 so please be kind! I hope y'all enjoy!

[part II]

[masterlist]

Ghost.

The callsign alone was mysterious—a mysterious name for a mysterious man. And while most people found him a mystery because of the obvious thing, you found him a quandary for other reasons.

He was a protector, that was for sure, but he was also a lone wolf, speaking only a few words at a time, and those were mainly to Johnny.

He seemed to always be deep in thought about what you couldn’t fathom. When he looked at you with those eyes that were sometimes so dark, they were nearly black, it unnerved you, but he didn’t necessarily scare you. Other times he looked at you, there was a lightness, a softness, in his eyes, both in color and emotion. It would disappear in a blink, and it was back to business, mainly him barking orders at you and telling you to focus.

You hadn’t discovered his name was Simon until you were at the base for over a month.

Simon.

You wondered if he looked like a Simon under that balaclava? What was hidden under there? Or, perhaps, he was hiding from the world for his protection.

You were so lost in thought that you rounded a corner and slammed right into what felt like a wall.

“Oof!” you stumbled back, then fell flat on your ass. Anger flashed in the eyes of said ‘wall’ but softened when he noticed it was you.

That’s sweet…I guess.

“You all right, lo--.” He stopped himself and cleared his throat. “You should always check your corners.” He held a big, gloved hand out to help you up, pulling you to your feet with ease.

“Yes, sir,” you said in a little voice. He scoffed and walked around you without another word. You made a face behind his back and continued to your destination.

“There she is! Fucking finally,” Soap roared, and you cringed as you made your way across the mess.

“Do you have to do that, Johnny?” you asked as you sat quickly. Soap slid you a tray. “Oo!” He had saved you a chili bowl before everyone snatched it up. You looked back up at him, and he was eyeing you strangely.

“What?” you snapped.

“Nothin’, you just look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

You nearly dropped your spoon at his words. Was that on purpose or…

“I’m just hungry.” You shoveled some chili into your mouth, so you had an excuse not to speak.

“Speaking of ghosts, have you seen ours?” he asked.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, mouth still full. You wanted to say you quite literally ran into him, but you didn’t.

“Well…where?” Soap wondered, exasperated.

“Barracks,” you mumbled. “Looked like he was going back to his quarters.”

“Oh.” Johnny shook his head.

“What?” You stared at him.

“Just a bit worried about him is all.” He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Enough of that. How’re you, numpty?” That had become his nickname for you since you flash-banged yourself and him.

“Oi, numpty! You’re supposed to hit them, not us!”

“I’m…alive,” you said with a shrug.

“Missing home?”

“Kinda.”

“You’re not still sad over that prick dumping you, are ya?” he asked.

“No,” you scoffed. Yes, you were. “And he didn’t dump me. We…agreed to go separate ways.”

“Whatever you say, lass.” A sly smile appeared on his face. “Maybe you and Simon should get together.”

You spat the water back into your cup and coughed. “Excuse me. Why?”

“You’re both so…mysterious,” he said.

“You’re a dick. There’s nothing mysterious about me,” you told him.

“Hey!”

“You’re a dick, Captain. Better?” You threw a napkin at him.

“I’m also available,” he offered. He chuckled, then looked behind you. “Speak of the devil….”

You turned to look and immediately turned back around. Ghost was making his way over. You hated how you were so nervous around him. Well, at least he had missed you shoveling chili into your mouth.

“Didn’t think you’d ever come down,” Soap said to Ghost.

“Had to shower,” he said curtly. “May I?” It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. He gestured to the chair, and you nodded.

“Uhh yeah. All yours.”

As he sat, you got a whiff of whatever soap he used. It smelled good. He smelled good.

“You all right?” he asked you.

“Hm?” You tried your best to look into his eyes, but it was impossible.

“From our little collision earlier. You all right?”

“Oh! Yeah! I’m fine,” you chirped awkwardly.

“Collision?” Soap wondered aloud.

“Um…” you sighed.

“Ran into me upstairs,” Ghost told Soap, and he burst into laughter.

“Oh, shut up,” you snapped, then gave him the finger. “Just for that, I’m leaving.”

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry,” Soap said.

“Whatever. I am tired, in any case. Goodnight, guys.” You think you heard Ghost say something, but you could be wrong. You didn’t look back as you walked away, so you missed how Ghost’s eyes followed you.

“Why not just tell her, Simon?” Soap asked his friend as they sparred.

“Negative,” he droned. “And…”

“Hey, numpty!” Soap yelled over to her, and Ghost’s eyes widened slightly. When he looked, he immediately wished he hadn’t. He was so used to seeing her in her usual field clothes that he felt like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time. She was in a t-shirt and form-fitting compression pants.

“Come and practice your shooting with Lt,” Soap said, “I’m off for a run.” Before either of them could say anything, he was gone.

“You don’t have to,” he said in a gentle rasp.

“...I could always use more practice, sir.” She looked up at him with innocent eyes.

“You sure?”

“Promise not to go easy on me, sir,” she teased.

“Wasn’t plannin’ to,” he quipped, and she looked down shyly. “So…I have a question.” He began as he lined up his sight.

“Okay. Ask, sir.”

“Why…” He squeezed off a round, hitting the target perfectly.

“Why what?” she huffed. She aimed, fired, and was just a bit off-center.

“Why do you call me Sir and not Ghost or Lt like everyone?” he asked.

“Because,” she started aggressively, angry at herself for that shot.

“Because?”

“To be honest, I don’t know, sir.” She held her breath and shot again—closer this time.

“Would you prefer I call you one of those names, sir?”

“I would, yeah.” He stood to his full height and watched as she aimed. “Nah, that’s all wrong. Here.” Suddenly, he was behind her moving her arms. His voice was directly in her ear the next time he spoke.

“Hold it there. Breathe in,” he said in a low tone. She inhaled deeply. “Now.” She pulled the trigger, hitting the target square in the head.

“Good lass,” he said, and she turned her head to look at him. He moved away quickly, settling back into his usual gruff self.

“So…Ghost…since I’m able to call you that, does it mean we’re friends now?” she asked playfully.

He was quiet for a time, then shook his head. “I’m your superior and…I always make it a rule not to make friends. Makes things easier when we lose someone out there.”

“Oh, I see.” Her smile faded.

“We’re comrades in arms, not friends,” he said.

“Okay, I get it!” she snapped. She put the rifle away and then nodded at Ghost. “Have a good day, sir.”

“We’re comrades in arms, not friends….”

It kept echoing in your head, distracting you at all the wrong times.

“Numpty, come in!” Soap shouted over the comms.

“Wha…what? Sorry.”

“Where’s your head, lass?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “Building two. Lt needs you to clear it with him.”

“Oh. Oscar Mike. Out.” You moved carefully, light on your feet the way you were taught. You took the left side of the door as Ghost took a right.

“…not friends…” It echoed in your mind just as the door was breached. A bullet grazed you, and you hissed as you aimed at the asshole and killed him with a clean headshot.

“Tango down,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Nice one,” Ghost said, but you ignored him and made your way into the building. “You all right?” he asked, noticing how you winced and the blood soaking your sleeve.

“I’m fine,” you said plainly. “Room clear. Heading up.” You were moving too quickly. You knew you were, but your mind was in a fog, replaying what Ghost said to you before.

Not friends.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t see the red dot aimed at you. In a split second, your thoughts and your breath were knocked away by a weight of sheer force tackling you to the floor. You groaned and looked up at the culprit.

Ghost. And, though you could only see his eyes, you knew he was pissed.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” he shouted, not letting you up. “I don’t know where you are, but it ain’t here!”

“Get off of me…sir.” You pushed against him, but he was far too heavy.

“I just saved your fucking life,” he said before shoving you down and then standing. “Get up. Get yourself together.”

You sat up, and he offered you his hand, but you ignored it.

“You need patching up?” he asked, nodding at your arm.

You shook your head. “No, sir.” You were glad it was dark—he wouldn’t be able to see the tears swimming in your eyes.

“Everything okay over there?” Soap asked over the comms.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “Fine.” You walked back downstairs with Ghost following close behind.

“I think we should head back to HQ. Regroup, debrief, and call it a night,” Ghost suggested.

“Whatever you think is right, sir.” You waited for him to take the lead. You were feeling a bit worse for wear.

Ghost eyed her as she walked in defeated silence beside him. Maybe he was too hard on her, but she could have been killed, which would have been on his conscience forever.

She proved why he could never call her a friend… or anything more.

He turned to her again with two words hanging on his lips—words he rarely uttered. His mouth opened, but he hesitated.

Forget it.

“You get that look as soon as we get back, yeah?” He was worried about the wound on her arm.

“Sir,” she said with a nod.

“Okay, you know what, stop,” he said, but she didn’t. “I said stop, soldier!” She froze but didn’t turn to look at him, so he moved in front of her. She blinked up at him with tired and sad eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“Nothing, sir. Just doing as I’m told.” She entered the underground headquarters, and he watched before following.

“Sir,” he said bitterly, “I told you to call me—”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate, sir. You’re my superior, remember? Not my friend.” She walked away from him then, greeting Soap happily.

“Patch me up?” she asked him, and he nodded. Soap gave him a glance over her shoulder, and Ghost could only shake his head.

“You wanna tell me what fuckin’ happened, Simon?” Soap asked.

“Nothing happened.” He was pacing, making it painfully apparent that something had happened. “She nearly got herself killed out there!” he snapped.

“You’re angry at her for that?”

“Yeah, I’m bloody pissed. How could she let herself get so distracted?” He finally stopped pacing.

“With all due respect, that is the dumbest question ever, Lt.” Soap stood before him. “Use your fucking brain, man.” After a moment of silence, Soap patted him on the shoulder.

“She’s in the infirmary,” he said, then walked away.

Ghost almost stopped him. What the fuck was he supposed to say to her?

You had curled up on the cot, facing the wall. At least here, you could cry peacefully. Heavy footsteps approached, and you felt as though you knew those footfalls. Then they stopped, so you closed your eyes.

“Soldier,” came a rough voice. Your eyes flew open, and you wanted to sink into the uncomfortable cushion. “I know you’re awake,” he rasped.

You sniffled quietly and quickly wiped any evidence of tears away before turning to him. The cot squeaked as you did.

“Sir?”

Ghost stood there awkwardly, looking taller than usual since you were lying down.

“Wanted to check on you. See if you need anything,” he said.

“No thanks.” You turned away again. Suddenly, the cot dipped dangerously as he sat down. Your body leaned towards him, and you tried your best to leave room.

“I’m not leaving til you tell me what’s going on,” he said, and you knew he was stubborn enough to sit there all night.

“Sir, I—”

“Ghost or Lt…okay?”

“Lt…there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m tired.” You shrugged, finally rolling onto your back to look at him. Most of the eye black had worn off, and his blond eyelashes were even more visible.

“I was a bit harsh back there, and I wanted to…hm…I wanted to say that wasn’t right of me…” he trailed off.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘sorry’ or ‘apologize,’” you teased.

“I’m trying my best ‘ere,” he snarled, his accent growing stronger.

“If you’re going to get angry, go. I’m too tired to argue, sir.” You tried rolling towards the wall again, but strong arms grabbed you and pinned you down by your shoulders.

“I’ll go after I tell you why I’m so angry. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, soldier! You weren’t focused, and that red dot…it…it was aimed right at your head. I couldn’t let…” he stammered, then shook his head, letting go of you.

“Well, at least you would have been able to get over it quickly since we’re not friends,” you bit out.

He glared at you. “Is that what’s bothering you? You got some growing up to do, love.”

You both froze at the sound of the pet name, but he didn’t try to correct himself.

“Fine. I’ll grow up,” you said.

It was quiet, and the cot squeaked as he stood and stormed away.

“God fuckin’ dammit!” he roared, throwing whatever he could get his hands across the room. Soap ducked, just missing being knocked in the head by something.

“I was gonna ask if everything was okay, but I think I know the answer,” he joked.

“Fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost sighed and sat on his cot. “What the fuck is wrong with me, mate?”

“I can think of a few things….” Soap began jokingly, but Ghost looked at him, and he got serious again.

“I…I don’t know how to talk to her. I get all…stupid. She makes me feel so many things. Dunno if I wanna scream at her or kiss her half the time.” Ghost didn’t do feelings. At least he didn’t think he did.

“So, what you’re telling me is you’re in love with her,” Soap said.

“I…what? No! I didn’t say that” Ghost scoffed.

“Don’t have to say it, lad.” Soap slapped him on the shoulder and walked over to his cot.

“I think I hurt her feelings, Johnny.” His voice was softer now.

“What did you do?”

“She said something about being friends, and I turned her down. Told her I don’t do the friend thing, just in case…I lose someone out there. Today, I almost did.” He sighed loudly.

“Yeah, and look how well you’re taking it even though she’s not your friend,” Soap said sarcastically.

Ghost only shrugged and then sighed before pushing up his mask just enough to scratch at the shadow of a beard that had grown.

“Love,” he scoffed.

“Yeah. I think you love her,” Soap quipped.

“I don’t do love,” Ghost told him.

“Aw, come on. That can’t be true.” Soap looked at his friend, and when he wouldn’t make eye contact, he became serious. “Simon…really?”

“I just don’t know how to do feelings?” He looked over at Soap. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“You know damn well how to do feelings, mate. You just don’t understand what you’re feeling. I’m telling you, you love her.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m her superior. I can’t be in love with her.” He shook his head.

“That’s all up to you, mate. I’m going to sleep.”

Ghost was left alone with his thoughts and a sleepless night.

But he decided what he was going to do.

You woke up before anyone else, not that you actually slept. Your mind replayed the conversation you had with Ghost. He was impossible.

You snuck above ground to watch the sunrise, sitting down and hugging yourself against the cold.

“Good morning, soldier,” a familiar voice said, and you jumped to attention.

“Good morning, sir.”

“At ease,” Ghost said, and you sat back down. He stood above you awkwardly. “I need to tell you something.

Your heart beat faster, and your palms were sweaty. “Okay.”

“I…I’m reassigning you,” he said without emotion.

You looked up at him and then stood. “What?”

“I need you back at home base with the FBI.” He couldn’t look at the confusion and pain on your face, so he pretended to fix his tac vest.

“I want to be out here. I want to be in action. You know that, sir. You can’t do this to me,” you cried.

“I can. It’s an order,” he snapped. “You have a few hours to get ready.” Then he was walking away before you could say anything else.

“You what?” Soap asked, turning to Simon with a look of shock.

“I took her off the assignment,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Are you fucking mad? Where is she?”

Ghost checked his watch. “Probably waiting for her plane out of here.”

“You send her away all because you’re afraid of your feelings. You’re going to regret this, mate.” Soap stormed past him, making sure to bump him with his shoulder.

“Numpty!”

You turned to the voice and forced yourself to smile. “Hey,” you said quietly.

“Leaving, eh?” he asked, although he knew.

“Yeah. Ghost reassigned me,” you said sadly.

“Yeah, I know.” Soap stood beside you quietly. “There’s a reason he’s doing this. I can’t tell you what it is because that’s for him to do, but know it’s for a reason.”

“Yeah. It’s because he hates me,” you said. “I don’t think he’s ever really liked me.”

“Lass…I…forget it.” He hugged you. “I’ll see you back home, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You hugged him back, holding back tears. “See ya.”

Ghost was stepping off a helo on American soil a few weeks later. They had to play a waiting game now, which he hated the most.

It also meant that he was bound to see her at some point. That scared him more than anything. He wasn’t afraid of being wounded or dying, but he feared this woman—a woman who had made him feel things he didn’t think were possible.

Never mind that.

Honestly, he couldn’t wait to shower with hot water that didn’t run out before he was done.

He walked back to his quarters and hid from the world as he usually did when he wasn’t on a mission. He quickly stripped off his clothing, throwing them into a pile on the floor. The last thing to come off was his mask and balaclava, and then he felt genuinely naked.

He walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. He always tried his best not to look in the mirror, but he couldn’t help himself.

He looked tired. The black circles under his eyes couldn’t be blamed on the eye black he always wore. He couldn’t count how many hours of sleep he had lost…

…over her.

He tried to tell himself it was because his adrenaline was pumping over taking someone down, but he was lying to himself.

He ran a hand through his messy hair that the balaclava had matted down.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he whispered before walking over to the shower and turning it on. Hot.

He stepped in, hissing against the heat but eventually getting used to it. He deserved the pain, didn’t he?

The water going down the drain was brown and black. He watched it spin and spin until it disappeared. Then he put his head under the stream of water and closed his eyes, putting his hands against the wall in front of him for balance. His dog tags swung freely, clinking together quietly.

He thought of her saying his name. Not sir. His given name. Simon. How lovely it would sound coming from her lips. The only name she would call him now is asshole, most likely.

But he liked seeing the feisty side of her. He knew she could stand her ground no matter how nervous she was around him.

“You love her.” Soap’s words rang in his ears. He reached down and turned the knob for the hot water off, letting the shower get ice cold as he stood under it without moving.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. All the showers in the world couldn’t wash the thoughts of him away.

You stood against the wall of the shower and closed your eyes.

“God, I wish I didn’t miss him,” you whispered to the water.

Suddenly, there was a pounding on your door.

“Open up, ya numpty!”

“Soap!” you squealed, turning the shower off quickly and hopping out. You wrapped yourself in a towel and ran to the door.

“Johnny boy!” you shouted when you swung the door open.

He hugged you. “Told you I’d see you soon.” He pulled back. “You’re all wet.”

“I know that.” You rolled your eyes. “Are…all of you back?” you asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason. Just wondering. It’ll be nice seeing everyone’s face again,” you said.

“Even the faces you can’t see?” he asked.

“Don’t.” You shook your head.

“Both of you are the most stubborn bastards ever,” he said, exasperated. “You two just need to sit down and talk.”

“He sent me away, John. I doubt he wants to talk to me.”

“You two better figure something out, or I’ll make it happen myself.”

You looked at him. “What does that mean?”

“Dunno, but I don’t think you should risk finding out.”

“You can be the absolute worst sometimes, you know that?”

Ghost paced his room, thinking hard about what to say to her. How she was convinced to come to him was beyond even the most inquisitive minds.

There was a soft knock at his door, and it made his heart pound. He pulled his balaclava down over his face and walked to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

“Um…good evening, sir,” she said hesitantly.

“Evenin’. Please.” He gestured into his room, and she walked in. “Well, I guess we should talk.”

“Yes, we should.”

You looked around his room, and it was exactly what you expected—clean and orderly with almost perfect precision.

You felt as though you were in some forbidden place.

“You can sit if you like,” he said gruffly.

“Sir.” You sat in the chair at his small desk.

He cleared his throat and sat across from you on his bed. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Johnny wants us to talk. Not sure about what,” he lied.

“I don’t know, but I have a question.” You waited for him to look at you. “Why did you send me home?”

He sighed loudly and rubbed his thighs. “I’m…not sure if I have a reason.”

“I think I’d be less angry if you did have a reason, sir.” The volume of your voice began to rise.

He seemed to be hesitant to say something.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“You’re a bloody distraction!” he shouted, and you jumped.

“Excuse me? A distraction?”

“Aye, a distraction. You…you just…”

“Well, you are ridiculously mean to me, sir. I know you don’t like me very much, but you could at least pretend to want to work with me when we’re out in the shit. I don’t like being treated like a child, getting sent away like I’m being put on time out!”

You were breathing heavily, and your vision was blurry, tears swimming in your eyes.

“You’re wrong about me not liking you,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“It’s…quite the opposite,” he blurted.

“I just wish you’d—wait, what?” You couldn’t have heard him right.

“I like you, all right? I think I like you too much,” he admitted.

“You show me you ‘like’ me by sending me as far away from you as possible?”

“You nearly died right in front of me! You were distracted because of me, and I was distracted because…I almost lost you,” he said. His voice was softer somehow.

“I don’t understand, Ghost.” You stood and paced, shaking your head. “You like me? Then why…”

“I don’t know how to deal with how I feel about you. I’m not even sure I’ve been in-” He stopped himself, and you froze in place.

“Ghost…” you whispered.

“Look at me.” He shrunk in defeat, making himself look smaller. “I’m one tough motherfucker, but I don’t even know how to handle…feelings.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. He couldn’t be saying what you thought he was. You sat beside him—something you would never have attempted if you were in your right mind.

“Sir…”

“Ghost,” he corrected, “Or Lt.”

“Ghost. I’m not sure what to say.” You looked into his eyes, and the intensity burned hotter than hell. His eyes had gone almost black, making his blond eyelashes look even brighter.

“You don’t have to say anything. What I feel isn’t right. It ain’t proper.” He blinked slowly.

“Ghost, can you say it? Say what you mean without so many words.” Any other time his words were curt and straight to the point. He chose now to talk in circles.

“I like you. I think I more than like you. Is that better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Okay. I like you too, Ghost.”

“You do?” He sounded surprised. “Even after what I did to you?”

“Well, I do kinda wanna punch you in the face for that, but now that I know…I’m not as angry.”

He sighed in relief, chuckling awkwardly. “So…”

“You ever take that thing off?” you asked suddenly.

“Negative. Well…at particular times, yes. If I’m alone when eating, then I will take it off. When I sleep and when I shower,” he told you, and you looked down at your fingers.

“Can I…Can I touch it…touch you?” you asked nervously.

“Um…yeah. All right.” He looked into your eyes as you slowly reached out, letting only your fingertips touch the material first. You dragged your finger around the opening for his eyes, over his nose, down to his jaw.

“Is that okay?” you asked.

“Yeah.”

You cupped his face, and he swallowed hard. “Look at me, Ghost.” His eyes slowly met yours again.

“You want me to take it off?” he wondered.

“No. I’d never ask that of you.” You dropped your hands.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I was a fucking idiot,” he admitted.

“I think I called you that a few times,” you teased, and you saw a hint of a smile in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I deserve it.”

“When’s the last time you kissed someone?” you asked confidently. His eyes widened slightly.

“Kissed? I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Not exactly at the top of my list of things to do.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

If you could read his mind, you would know that he wanted to do so much more than that.

“I think I do, yeah.”

“Kiss me then,” you said, moving closer to him. You had no idea where this confidence was coming from, but you were going to hold onto it for as long as possible.

“Think of it as one way to apologize to me,” you told him. You watched eagerly as he slid the balaclava up, revealing his stubbled jaw and full lips.

“Come ‘ere.” He pulled you even closer and then captured your lips with his. For someone who didn’t think of kissing much, he sure knew how to. You moaned quietly against his lips.

“This is so wrong,” he murmured into the kiss.

“Shut up.” You kissed him harder, making him grunt in surprise.

“Who’re you tellin’ to shut up, soldier?” He kissed you before you could answer, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You didn’t know when or how you ended up on your back, but you didn’t care. You were caged in by him, a pleasant weight keeping you here on earth.

“So, you said that…kissing you was one way I could apologize to you. You got another?” he asked, looking down at your lips.

“If you think a kiss is wrong, then I doubt you want to know.” You lifted your head to try and kiss him, but he pulled away.

“Tell me. That’s an order, miss.”

“You could…touch me,” you said quietly.

“Touch you? Where?”

You took his big hand and put it on your face before moving it down, his fingers ghosting over your lips. Without thinking, you opened your mouth and let two of his fingers slip in.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

You kept them there for a while before moving his hand down to your covered breasts and holding it there.

“You want me to touch you here?” he asked. You nodded. “You’re gonna have to use words, love.”

“Yes. I want you to touch me there.” You arched into his hand, but then he moved it.

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt. “May I?”

“Yeah.” You sat up and let him pull your shirt off. He stared at you as though he hadn’t seen a woman in her bra before.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I just want to remember everything,” he told you, carefully reaching around you and unclasping your bra. You let it slip off and nearly covered yourself, but seeing how he looked at you made you feel bold.

“Sir?” you called, and he shut his eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he said in a strained voice. He quickly adjusted the front of his pants, and you smirked.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” He opened his eyes and squinted at your smirk.

“No, I’m not,” you laughed, but just for a moment because he was kissing you again in a flash. You were flat on your back, and though you wanted to feel his lips on yours forever, he moved away to kiss down to your neck. It was like he knew exactly where to kiss because he had you making sounds you hadn’t made in God knows how long.

“You’re going to leave a mark, sir,” you teased.

“That’s the fuckin’ point, ain’t it, love?” He bit down on your neck lightly, and you whimpered. At this point, he could leave a mark wherever he wanted, and you would thank him for it.

His lips trailed down between your breasts, then kissed over to one.

“Eyes on me, soldier,” he commanded. As soon as your eyes met his, he dragged his tongue along your nipple and then wrapped his lips around it.

“God!” you cried, then quickly put a hand over your mouth. “Sorry. Don’t stop.” You put your hand on the back of his head, imagining how his hair would feel between your fingers. He moved to the other breasts and showed it the same appreciation.

“Fucking perfect, aren’t you?” His big hands pushed your breasts together, then let them go.

“Aren’t you gonna take anything off?” you wondered. “And I don’t mean the balaclava.”

You were nearly salivating, thinking about how he looked under his clothes. He was broad and beautiful, so you knew you were in for a treat.

“Are you shy?” you asked as he hesitated.

“No. I have…scars,” he said.

“Of course you do, but do you think I care? I just wanna see you.” You sat up. “Want me to look away while you undress?” you offered.

“No, I want you to help me,” he said. He stood off the bed, and you sat on your knees to reach him.

“You sure?” you asked, your hands wavering.

“Yeah.” He watched as your hands moved slowly to the hem of his shirt.

“Arms up, soldier,” you said playfully. He lifted his arms, and you slowly pulled the shirt up and off.

“You’re perfect,” you told him. “I knew you’d be.” You kissed the scar on his collarbone, and he sighed. You climbed off the bed and kissed him gently before moving lower, kissing every scar you came across.

Then you were on your knees.

“What are you doing to me?” he groaned, staring down at you eagerly. You looked into his eyes as you loosened his belt, then went for the button and zipper on his pants.

Boxer briefs. You knew it. The pants fell from his waist, and now he was just as naked as you. From what you could see through the boxer briefs, he was a perfect size.

“You stayin’ down there?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Want me to?” You palmed him gently, and he hissed. Your mouth watered at the thought of being full of him. You pulled on the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulled down. There he was in all his glory.

You kissed his hipbones and thighs, teasing him a little.

“Are you teasing me?” he asked, gently grabbing you by the chin.

“I don’t know.” You trailed little kisses up and down his shaft, and he groaned loudly.

“It’s been a while, love. Go easy on me, will ya?”

“I’ll think about it.” You opened your mouth and slipped it around him slowly.

“Blood fucking ‘ell,” he grunted, his hand moving to the back of your head. “If this is how your mouth feels, then I can only imagine what inside of you feels like.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, and you bobbed your head faster on him.

“We could get in so much trouble for this,” he breathed. “But I don’t even fucking care right now.”

You pulled off him. “Me neither.”

He reached down, grabbed his cock, then traced your lips with the head.

“Shit. Get up here.”

You stood quickly, only for him to toss you onto the bed. He was quick to get your pants and panties off and even quicker to get his head between your legs.

“Ohhh fuck yes!” you cried as he dipped his tongue into you, then swirled it around your clit. “You know what you’re doing.”

“My mouth ain’t just for barking orders,” he said before diving back in, slurping at you like he was dying of thirst. You squirmed, but he put a hand on your stomach to keep you still.

You saw stars already, grinding yourself against his tongue.

“Go on, love, fuck my tongue. Use it.”

“Ghost…” you whimpered as you held his head in place and rubbed yourself all over his tongue. His eyes stayed on you. It was so intense. Too intense. You cried out and tried to push him away as you came, but he latched onto your clit and sucked and licked at it until you couldn’t take anymore. He kissed your pussy repeatedly and then finally came up for air.

Once he was level with you again, he crushed his lips against yours, making sure you could taste yourself.

“Inside me,” you breathed between kisses.

“Hm?” he grunted, teasing you.

“I need you inside me.”

“What if I’m not gentle?” he asked.

“Who said anything about being gentle?”

He made a noise akin to a growl and then sat up on his knees. He grabbed you and turned you over carefully, so you were on your stomach.

“You ready for me?” he asked, and you looked back at him.

“Yes, sir.” You watched as he licked his hand and then stroked himself a few times before straddling the backs of your thighs and pushing into you slowly.

The stretch was so good that you swore you were going to cry.

“Yesssssssss,” you hissed.

“Taking me so well,” he told you just as he bottomed out. He pressed against you and laced his fingers with yours before pulling out and slamming back in. Once he saw that you could handle him, he picked up his pace.

He let go of your hands and caged you in with his arms as he pounded you into the mattress. You cried out and moaned with every thrust, pushing against him, so the sound of slapping skin was even louder.

“You’re a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” he groaned. “Not gonna last long,” he warned.

“Don’t care. Fuck me!”

“I got a better idea.” He pulled out of you and sat before pulling you onto his lap. “How about you fuck me?”

“Yes, sir.” You reached back and held his cock up as you slid yourself back onto him. You held onto his knees and bounced on him.

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, then slapped your ass. “Feels like you don’t wanna let me go.”

“Maybe I don’t,” you whined, bouncing on him harder.

He pulled you back against him so that your back was against his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

“Fine with me,” he said before thrusting up into you like his life depended on it. He turned your head with his free hand so that you were looking over your shoulder and kissed you hard. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but it didn’t matter.

“I’m gonna cum,” he breathed in your ear. “Where? Hm?”

“Inside. Cum inside of me, Simon.”

“Ah fuck!” He gritted his teeth and fucked up into you. Before long, his thrusts faltered, stopping altogether as he pushed deep into you and filled you. It felt like he would never stop, and even when he did, he kept thrusting and swirling his hips weakly.

He rested his head against your back and caught his breath.

“I want to stay inside you forever,” he said breathlessly.

You both eventually peeled yourselves away from one another and showered together. Now you were lying in his bed, tracing his scars.

“You think we should tell Johnny?” he asked.

“No way! We wouldn’t hear the end of it then. Let’s leave him in the dark. Pretend to be mad at each other for a little longer,” you suggested.

“I like the way you think,” he said.

You looked up at him—he still hadn’t pulled down his balaclava. You wondered if he even noticed.

You kissed along his jaw, the stubble pricking your lips slightly.

“Is it wrong that I want you to stay tonight?” he asked.

“No. I’ll stay if you want,” you told him.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Maybe letting you stay was his way of making up for the time he sent you away.

Whatever it was, you savored it. It felt natural to be in his arms, almost like you were always meant to be there.

[part II]

[neytirisheaven]

i wish i knew you wanted me

warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, reader is insecure abt her body, gore, homicidal thoughts and actions, kinda ooc and rational billy but also he’s a dick at the beginning of the story, small mention of teen pregnancy, romanticizing murder, billy calls reader “doll”, billy has secret intentions, shitty and rushed ending that was barely proofread at all, slightly fluffy ending (?)

stu macher x fem!gf!reader word count: 8k

summary: you, being the third member of the ghostface trio, finally snap when it comes to your harbored feelings towards your best friend, stu

notes: TELL ME WHY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A FUCKING MONTH TO FINISH. anyway i hope you enjoy it even though i did not enjoy proofreading this one bit.. and also in another world, reader would be so so down bad for tatum and there’s no arguments!! but reader IS also a girls girl and the complete opposite of a girls girl at the exact same time so uhmm..

IN THE SMALL, humble town of Woodsboro, it wasn’t uncommon to hear of a murder here or there. It was something so normal, it was almost integrated into the community itself. 

The only thing that always irked you about it was that they always referred to the murderers as “he”. It was always “he’s got another kill under his belt,” or “he’s gotten away with it once again!”

Who said girls couldn’t kill?

You sat with your back against the fountain, picking at the remnants of your half-eaten bologna sandwich—courtesy of Billy. He had stolen a few bites out of your crustless sandwich in class when you weren’t looking, and now you were left with a sorry excuse for what was supposed to be your only meal of the day.

You had started your unhealthy diet after Stu broke up with Casey Becker and began dating your best friend, Tatum Riley. It had been a subtle shift in your eating habits, but no one was quick to make connections nor accusations to the directly related events. 

No one except Sidney.

And of course she was the one to point it out. Sidney Prescott, who had the perfect body and the perfect face and was the perfect person to fall in love with. She and Tatum were always the ones being sought after by the boys, but they only ever loved your other two best friends; you could see it in their eyes. Billy and Stu hated the other guys—they saw them as competition, and you could see it in their eyes.

But no one noticed how much you hated being ignored by Stu. You knew him first. You were the one to introduce him to your friends. You were the one whose family was practically his second family. You loved him first. No one could see it in your eyes, though. 

If only they tried. If only they took the time to take one small glance at your fleeting gaze, and maybe, just maybe, would they be able to see the story hidden underneath your stare.

It was a deep betrayal felt on your end, seeing Stu and Tatum happy together. The latter knew how you felt about her new boyfriend—how you felt about him way before they met—even if you never explicitly admitted it to her face. At least, you thought she knew.

You tossed your sandwich back onto the resealable bag on the concrete floor, pulling your legs up to your chest. You tilted your head back to gaze up at your four best friends that perched on the flat platform of the fountain, meeting the eyes of Stu before anyone else’s. 

He shot you his heart-throbbing grin, reaching his hand down to ruffle your hair. You groaned at the action, immediately bringing your hands up to your scalp and flattening your roots out. The boy only snickered at your reaction and threw his right leg over your head, letting his calf land against your chest and shoulder.

Another groan escaped your lips, but it came out as more of a whine than anything else. “Stu, get your goddamn leg off me!” You placed your hands against his foot and leg to try and shove it off, but all he did was press harder against you to keep his leg from budging. 

“Nope,” Stu popped the ‘p’ like an immature middle school boy. He continued his conversation with Billy in a normal manner, wrapping a protective arm around Tatum and pulling her into him so that her back would be leaning against his side. 

You took the time to tilt your head upwards and gaze at the blonde-haired girl, who currently had her hair tied into the two braids she always wore around. Her makeup was flawless—her glossy lip was something you knew you could never achieve, not even in another world. 

The way she innocently (or not) sucked her cherry lollipop was something that made Stu weak in the knees, you knew it for sure. He always had a thing for blonde girls and lollipops. 

And her body—well, she was hand-sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves, is all you had to say about her. 

You could see Billy’s harsh gaze flicker from you to Tatum, then you to Stu, then Tatum to Stu, then back to you and Stu once more. You paid no mind to his wandering eyes, though, since your thoughts were too focused on the blonde girl and how she was so much more . . . perfect compared to you.

“Hello? You there?” Sidney’s voice broke you out of the chain your thoughts held you in, waving her hand in front of your face as she called your name multiple times. “Are you okay?”

Blinking your eyes, your head snapped in her direction, almost jolting up at the realization that you must’ve zoned out while thinking of all the ways your best friend trumped your traits. Stu’s leg slipped off your shoulder, causing him to shoot you a concerned glance as he left the conversation between him, Tatum and Billy. “Yeah, you all good?” 

You gazed up at him with doe eyes, your lips slightly parted in a manner that would make any other boy go mad for you. You hummed, “Mm-hmm, I’m fine.”

Your tone didn’t seem to satisfy Sidney enough, seeing as she took hold of your sleeve and tugged you upwards until you were pushing yourself off the ground. Stu’s gaze followed you as you began to rise up to your full height, his head now tilting upwards to look at you instead of the other way around. 

“C’mon, let’s grab some snacks from the vending machines. I’m craving some chips,” the brunette placed a comforting hand on your lower back, leading you away from the friend group. “I’ll pay for whatever you wanna get.” She received a smile from you as you tugged your sleeves past your fingertips–like you always did when the weather was beginning to cool down–but got nothing more.

Before you could manage to take more than two steps, Stu placed his large hand into yours and gently pulled you back towards him, a genuine look laced into his concerned gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t eat your sandwich at all. You can take my food instead, if you want.” As he spoke, he used his thumb to rub circles into the back of your hand, the mere contact of his skin touching yours being enough to send you into an internal frenzy. You could barely process his words when he stared up at you like a lost puppy, only wanting confirmation that you were okay. He only ever wanted to know if you were okay. 

If he had one last wish before he died, it would be to make sure that you were okay for the rest of eternity. Because all he did was care about you. That’s why you started liking him in the first place. 

But he had Tatum now, and he was happy, and you had to accept it sooner or later. So you only nodded your head and muttered an annoyed, “I’m fine, just didn’t wanna eat something that Billy’s already taken a bite out of.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from eating what you wanted in the past,” the aforementioned boy retorted with a scoff, rolling his eyes as he leaned back onto his hands. 

You felt a sickening feeling begin to build up in your stomach and looked downwards, trying to keep the bile from building up in your throat. You knew his words weren’t meant to cause any harm, but you couldn’t help but take it to heart. “Yeah, I guess so.” You whispered lowly, pulling your sleeves even further past your fingertips. 

You swiveled on your heel and fell back into step beside Sidney, who glanced at you with a pitiful look. You were too busy looking down at your feet to notice her gaze, but you spoke up as if you knew she was looking at you. “Before you ask again, no, I don’t really want anything from the vending machine. I have more money, though, if you feel like getting snacks for the others.”

The brunette pursed her lips at your words, debating between speaking more about your concerning eating habits or talking to you about what she wanted to discuss in the first place. “I won’t mention food or eating or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wanted to talk about something else.” You hummed, and she continued. “Stu or Tatum?”

Those three words were enough to catch you off-guard, resulting in you stopping in your tracks. “What?”

“Stu or Tatum?” Sidney repeated her question. “You’re always staring—or glaring—I can’t really tell, at Tatum. It’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me, but I was just . . . curious. You started being more conscious about everything when they got together, and now all you do is mope in the corner whenever they’re around each other. So, it’s either you like Stu, or you like Tatum. Or maybe you like both of them.”

Your eyes were darting everywhere but Sidney’s eyes, your lack of eye-contact being enough to confirm that you did, indeed, like one of them. “I—“ You cleared your throat. “I think you might be reading this situation wrong, I don’t—I don’t like either of them.”

The brunette only gave you a pointed stare.

You lolled your head back with a hesitant sigh, bringing your hand up to rub the nape of your neck. With much reluctancy, you quietly admitted to your feelings for Stu, then resorted to a brisk walk towards the vending machines in an attempt to avoid the conversation that would come next.

You heard Sidney’s light footsteps catching up to you, her gentle hand resting on your bicep to get you to look at her. Your name slipped past her lips, and you didn’t even have to look at her to know that she pitied you.

When Billy found out, he pitied you, too. He masked it with teasing and jokes and laughter, but deep down, he felt bad for you. “It must suck knowing he doesn’t want you back,” he said to you once the shock died down.

It was the one thing he said that actually stuck with you.

“How long?” Your friend’s voice was still as quiet as she was caring, the warmth of her touch radiating onto you in a comforting manner. 

You huffed. “Like, I don’t know. Couple months, years, maybe. I don’t really know when it started.”

“Years? Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sidney frowned pitifully and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as she ushered you to the vending machines. She continued asking you questions as she fed the large metal box her dollar bills, causing you to squirm uncomfortably and shift on your feet.

You weren’t uncomfortable because of her questions, but rather because you were coming to the realization that you barely knew any of the answers to her questions. You’ve felt your strong feelings towards Stu for longer than you can remember, but you couldn’t even begin to explain why you even liked him in the first place.

“I don’t really know, Sid,” you replied in response to her question. “I just started liking him. I’m not sure why, or how, but I did. There’s not—I can’t think of anything else to it.” You fiddled with your fingers as you spoke and watched your friend crouch down to grab the snacks she bought. 

The girl only nodded to your reply and led you back to the friend group still sitting at the water fountain, where Stu and Tatum could never fail to break your heart.

After the conversation with Sidney, you were beginning to overthink every little detail in your relationship with Stu. He was touchy with you; was that why you liked him? He always listened to your thoughts; was that why you liked him? He never failed to defend you against Billy’s crude remarks; was that why you liked him? He remembered every food and drink order you’ve ever shown a bit of interest in; was that why you liked him? The thoughts flooded your brain into levels of overcapacity, and all it did was make your head hurt. 

You were spending the afternoon with the two boys at your house, where your mother was absent due to her work trip to Canada, and your father was gone because he had to drive to Colorado for your brother’s region tournament. 

“Empty house!” Billy cheered through the quiet hallways of your three-story house, his yells bouncing off the light gray walls. 

You had originally sent him downstairs to grab a few snacks from the pantry, since you were busy tossing your textbooks and binder onto your soft mattress in a circle. It was practically routine whenever they came to your house; you would study and they would goof around, but it worked all in all, because you got to spend time with your closest friends.

“You should throw a party, you know. Don’t be such a nerd, doll.” The blond boy commented once he reached your room. He threw a few bags of chips at you, as well as Stu, who was sprawled out at the foot of your bed. “Your house is empty for at least a week. You might as well put it to use.”

You shook your head and continued writing notes as you refuted his suggestion. “You know I can’t, Billy. My parents got super pissed at me last time, ‘cause they found a broken, used condom on the floor of their closet. They grounded me for a month, then told the whole family I was pregnant and took me to Planned Parenthood.”

A few snickers came from the boys’ mouths. 

“I mean, even if you did get pregnant,” Stu began, quickly correcting himself when you sent him a glare, “which you didn’t, at least you used a condom. Even if it broke.”

Even more laughs erupted from Billy’s mouth, not halting when you launched your pillow at his face. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit too, watching as your friends’ chuckles gradually turned into cackles, which then became a whole laughing fit. 

“It’s not even that funny, idiots,” you mumbled to yourself. But even after commenting, you continued to laugh along with them, smiles littering your faces. Your eyes slowly traveled over to Stu, who had the widest grin on his face. His head was hanging off the bed, and he was scrunching his nose up while looking at Billy. 

Your eyes seemed to light up with stars, reflecting the glowing aura of the boy you’d been admiring since forever. You always felt so carefree and boundless whenever you were with him, and this was a prime example. You could laugh about anything and everything, and he would never shame you for it. In fact, he would initiate the fit of laughter.

Your chuckles died down after a bit, leading you to focusing your attention back on your studies. You could sense Stu and Billy communicating to each other through their eyes, causing you to speak up before they could say any more. “Spit it out, Macher. What does he want you to do?”

“My sweet, amazing, loving, caring, one-of-a-kind best friend,” Stu began his spiel, “could you please throw a party tonight? Just a small one, it doesn’t even have to be half the school.” He inched closer to where you were on the bed, eventually finding a comfortable position with his head in your lap, preventing you from ignoring him and redirecting your attention to your textbooks any longer. 

You stared down at him with a slightly amused expression, a smile beginning to tug on your lips. He was desperate. His cute antics were almost enough to take your mind off the fact that he would only ever see you as a best friend.

You considered it, “What do I get out of it if I do?”

“You get my undying love and affection for all of eternity,” he jokingly blew a kiss.

“Mm-hmm? And how would Tatum feel about that?” Did you just cockblock yourself?

Billy shot you a warning glance, cautioning you not to tread into open waters, where anything could happen. It was a risky move, setting yourself up for failure, but you were all but curious to see how your best friend would react. Not all your hope was lost. Not yet.

Stu pulled your hand onto his chest, where you could feel his beating heart, and you could swear it started beating faster when you locked eyes.

But no, this was wrong. He was still dating Tatum no matter how much you liked him, and the intensity of your feelings would never even graze close to being enough compared to Tatum’s—well, her everything.

Briefly looking away for a few seconds, your mind was already drifting away to another world where you would be in this same position, just you and Stu. With your palm over his heart and his hand over yours, maybe in that other world, he would be confessing his love for you. Maybe he would tell you how beautiful you are, how he loved everything about you, how he could never imagine being with anyone else. And maybe in that world, you would be happy. Happy with him.

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t in that world. You were in the world where he was dating Tatum and they were in love with each other, and all you will ever be able to do is watch from a distance as the only person you’ll ever love goes and falls for someone else. 

“Tatum would understand,” Stu explained, seriousness masking his tone. “She would understand my love for you if it was for the greater good.” You could’ve sworn you saw his gaze flicker to your lips, even for just a second, but you managed to convince yourself that it was nothing.

You were also damn grateful your positions weren’t swapped right now, or else the rapid thumping of your heart would’ve given everything away. 

“The greater good of the party.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?” Of-fucking-course it was a joke, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes and shoved Stu away from you. And to think you let your hopes get high, thinking Stu might’ve reciprocated just a sliver of the feelings you felt for him. “Oh, right, the party,” you stammered once your thoughts came flooding back to you.

You could think straight now, no distractions clouding your judgment. You began to hyperfixate on anything and everything; how Stu’s hair was slightly messy from rolling around on your bed; how your textbooks and notebook were long discarded, which you assumed happened whilst you were busy gawking over the physical and emotional intimacy you thought was occurring between the two of you; how your cheeks were most likely a bit flushed from not only the embarrassment, but the flustered feeling you experienced just a few seconds before your sudden drop from your emotional high; and how Billy was still standing there against the doorframe and had watched everything that just happened between his two best friends. 

“It’s, uh,” you cleared your throat. “Sure. It’s fine, we can throw a party. Just, I don’t know, don’t invite the whole school. And tell them to throw their used condoms away.”

Billy and Stu’s faces lit up at the sound of your approval, the two immediately scrambling around to begin preparing for the party.

“I’ll pick up Tatum and Sidney, and we can go on a quick food run while you and Billy start setting up and inviting people?” Stu spoke, his words coming out in the form of a question more than a statement. He grabbed his jacket from the corner of your headboard and slipped it over his shoulders, snatching his car keys from the surface of your desk and waving it around.

You nodded your head and ushered him to the front door, reminding him to get your favorite snacks and a new tub of disinfectant wipes before closing the door on him. As soon as you locked the door and turned around, you found Billy standing at the top of your staircase with an accusing eyebrow raised. 

“Don’t give me that look, Bill.” You scoffed softly, shuffling into the kitchen. You didn’t wait for an answer from him as you began wiping down the countertops with the last few disinfectant wipes you had, putting the clean plates in the cabinets and the bread loaves back into the pantry.

The sound of his quiet footsteps echoed in your ears before you heard his voice once again, now much closer to you than before, “You’re being risky, doll. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? I’m being normal, if anything.”

Billy practically rolled his eyes into the back of his head at your rebuttal. “Don’t start things you can’t finish. You’re making a mess that I’m not willing to clean up.”

“Okay, I don’t understand why you care so much. And I never asked you to clean up my fucking messes, either! I can handle myself, so don’t involve yourself in business that doesn’t concern you.”

“Of course it concerns me!” He began to raise his voice just as you did yours. “You’re both my best friends and I don’t wanna see shit go down because you couldn’t keep your hands and words to yourself—“

“I couldn’t ‘keep my hands to myself’? Stu was the one that initiated everything that just happened between us!” “Barely anything happened between you, first of all. And it’s not like he didn’t give you a choice, doll. He did what he wanted to do, but you didn’t have to play along.” The blond boy took a few deep breaths as he attempted to calm himself, unusual to his typical characteristic of favoring chaos. 

You followed his actions, not wanting to start a major argument with one of your best friends before a party you were to host. “Billy, I really don’t understand why you’re putting so much thought into this. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, especially not to you.”

“I–” he cut himself off, sighing. He squinted his eyes shut and rolled his head off to the side, as if what he was about to say was something that could physically hurt him. He pursed his lips with much reluctancy, taking a good look at your face as he weighed his options. His dark eyes scanned your face with a certain emotion you were never used to seeing from him, before he finally spoke up, “I care. I do this because I care about you, and I care about Stu, and I really don’t want anything to split us up. I’m not willing to choose sides.”

Your mouth fought to let out a “this isn’t like you,” but you ultimately decided against it when you saw the look on your friend’s face. He was being serious.

But it meant he had no hope for you and Stu. If he was saying the things he did—that he didn’t want anything to split the three of you up, that he wasn’t willing to choose sides—it meant he was completely sure you had no chance whatsoever. 

There was no other explanation to it. Not in your eyes, at least.

So you took a long, long look at Billy. You looked at him for a while. You looked at how his expression gradually softened, how his eyebrows furrowed in a concerned manner. You gazed into the eyes that bore straight back into you, looking—no, waiting for an answer. And eventually, you decided to let it go. 

“Fine,” you gave up. “Whatever. Just help me with the cleaning up, please?”

The boy nodded at your request and got to work, sweeping down the floors and making sure the house wasn’t a mess by the time people came to the party. After an hour, you both flopped onto the couch with exhausted huffs, allowing the fatigue to take over. 

Billy slowly turned his head to look at you, and with half-lidded eyes, he mumbled, “Should we go call some people and invite them now?” He watched as you nodded tiredly and reached over your limp body to grab the landline phone from the side table, dialing a set of ten numbers into it before hearing the dial tone. The person on the other end picked up, causing him to feign energy. 

He smiled as if the person could see his expression, exclaiming, “Corynn! Hi, how are you?” A response from the other end. “Wanna come to a party tonight?” Another response. “Great! I’ll give you the address,” he offered, reciting your address without any lack of memory. “See you there!” As soon as the call ended, his fake expression dropped, his gaze flitting to you as he muttered, “Hate that bitch. She cheated on me when we were dating, so I killed her little boy toy.”

“That’s where you went?” You furrowed your eyebrows, recalling back to the summer when your friend had randomly disappeared with the Ghostface costume, only to come back with his dagger and mask covered in blood. “I thought you killed that girl who was talking shit about me in Calculus.”

“Killed her too,” Billy added nonchalantly, dialing in a new number and holding the phone up to his ear once again. The back and forth calls happened for another thirty minutes or so, the blond boy calling every girl he kissed and telling them to tell their friends. He, of course, told a few of the guys he was acquainted with, and by the time Stu, Sidney and Tatum arrived at your house, at least half the school had heard about the party happening at your house.

Tatum walked into your house through the front door, a few grocery bags hanging from her arms as she announced, “I’ve gotten seven calls in the past fifteen minutes from people telling me about your party. Stu said it was just gonna be a small get-together.” She placed the bags of your favorite snacks down on the counter, calling for her boyfriend to put the food in the pantry where it belonged (everyone knew that only Stu and Billy knew every inch of your house and could navigate it with their eyes closed).

“Billy went a little crazy with the invites,” you whispered into her ear as you walked past her and out the front door, opting to help the others out with getting the remainder of the groceries. “Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

The blonde girl laughed at your words and followed you out, planting a kiss on Stu’s lips as he walked into the house with bags of alcohol in his arms. Sidney gave you a look, her gaze flickering back to the couple every so often as you made a few trips between the car and the kitchen. You grabbed your friends’ dresses from the front seat of the car, complimenting the clothes when you walked into your house.

Tatum and Stu were now in the corner of the kitchen flirting quietly, their excuse of putting the groceries away being seen through immediately.

“Whose fake ID did you use this time?” Billy questioned as he raked through the bag of alcoholic beverages, pulling out a few beers and putting them in the fridge. Sidney brought the last of the groceries in and responded to his question with little to no attention directed towards him, her focus now turned to the fact that you were calling her upstairs to your room to change into your dresses.

You ordered the boys to do the rest of the unpacking and setting up as you bounded up the stairs with your friend, telling Tatum to “come up whenever she was done making out with her boyfriend.” Sidney elbowed you in the side, giving you a look, but you only ignored her wordless sayings as you draped the dresses over your forearm and brought them into your room.

Placing them onto the edge of your bed, you grabbed Sidney’s dress and shoved it into her arms, telling her to change so you could see her dolled up and looking cute. She entered your closet and walked back out after a few minutes, flattening the sides of her dress. 

Almost as if she timed it on purpose, Tatum walked into your room with a giddy smile, her lips slightly swollen from what you knew was a heavy makeout session with your best friend. Her eyes flickered to you, then to the brunette girl standing in her dress, and she almost let out a scream. “Sidney, you look amazing!” She then turned to you with the bright grin still plastered onto her face, telling you to go change, too.

You hesitantly walked into your closet, closing the door behind you as your eyes located the section in your closet for the dresses you owned. You didn’t own too many of them, but you had enough for each special occasion in the year. You brought your hand up to the dark red dress you had hung up, taking it off its hanger and bringing it up to your body. 

Turning to the mirror you had in your closet, you looked deeply into your reflection as you analyzed the look, bringing your left hand up to play with your hair as you tried to imagine yourself wearing it to a party you were hosting. 

The dress had mesh sleeves with rhinestones attached to every other connection point, and the low-cut, square neckline gave you a confident aura. The skirt came down to your mid-thigh and hugged you in all the right places, but you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit unnatural in it. You loved the way you looked in it–surprisingly and atypically–but you couldn’t help but shake the feeling that you wouldn’t “wow” the crowd.

When you walked out of your closet to find Tatum already in her champagne-colored dress, sitting on the edge of your bed and waiting for you, you finally realized that you would never “wow” the crowd whenever you were around her.

Her beautiful dress emphasized her curves and made her pop out, the glittery material sparkling with the slightest movements she made. The spaghetti straps paired with the low neckline looked perfect on her, and all of a sudden, you felt fat in your dress. The dress that made you feel powerful five seconds ago was now the same dress that you felt the fattest in. You immediately wrapped your arms around your waist at the sight of Tatum’s figure, cowering into yourself compared to the confident walk you exited your closet with.

“Guys, I don’t really know if this dress suits me,” you trailed off, looking everywhere but your friends’ eyes. Their jaws dropped as if they were offended by your statement–they were, because you looked amazing and you couldn’t see it–and protests immediately flew out of their mouths.

“What are you talking about? You look absolutely stunning in that dress!”

“It’s like it was tailored just for you! It suits you perfectly, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks, guys.” You trailed off, feeling shy under your friends’ gazes. Before you could say any more, the blonde girl hauled you and Sidney off to your bathroom, convincing the both of you to let her do your hair and makeup. 

Meanwhile, Stu and Billy remained downstairs and continued to prepare for the party, the latter dropping a few hints here and there about your harbored feelings for the taller boy. 

His opinions about you and Stu had changed during the short period of time he had been left alone with his friend, and in realizing that the two of you would definitely be happier together, he decided he would intervene in a manner that would never have been expected from him.

Billy was the type of guy to fuck around and not give a shit, no matter what the situation was. Why he was practically matchmaking his best friends and playing cupid, no one would be able to figure that out. Hell, he couldn’t even figure it out himself. 

“I’m surprised she agreed to the party,” the blond boy commented in reference to you. “She would’ve never said yes if I asked her.”

Stu chuckled, “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m very clearly the favorite.” He leaned against the counter and took a knife from the knife block, examining how sharp the blade was. “You think she’d put the mask on for me? Get a little knife-crazy?” He twirled the knife around in his hands, his signature ‘crazy’ look beginning to form in his eyes.

Billy shrugged his shoulders, acting clueless about your true feelings as he played along with Stu’s ideas, “Maybe. Why?” He locked eyes with his best friend, a smirk already crawling onto his lips. “You thinkin’ about getting another one off the list?”

And with a mischievous grin, Stu cheered, “Hell yeah!”

Ever since the beginning of the party, you had been everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It had been an hour since people had first arrived, and you had shamelessly stuck to Billy’s side the whole time. He was grateful, secretly, since he didn’t have to falsely entertain girls until they became bored of him—you practically clung onto him like a koala to a tree.

Stu and Tatum had only managed to stick around with the two of you for a new record of fourteen whole minutes before they ran off someplace that would definitely need to be sanitized after. Sidney, too, spent a majority of the time alongside you, but even she got bored.

You saw her walk away with a redheaded boy you recognized from your Literature class, and Billy was undoubtedly seething, but with one look at you, he was back at your side with an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. 

The house was bustling with more people than you thought were invited, and although it made you the slightest bit uncomfortable, you found comfort in the normality of throwing a giant party filled with every upperclassmen from your highschool in your otherwise empty home. Being in a trio of psychopathic killers had its perks—like being able to get rid of whoever you wanted, per se—but it also sort of stripped you of the regular opportunities that came with being a normal high schooler. You had gotten so used to going out in your Ghostface mask with Stu and Billy that a typical night of senior parties seemed abnormal to you. 

But now, in the comfort of your own home and the knowledge of your two best friends being in the vicinity with you, all three of the costumes that were hidden in the very back of your closet became a fleeting thought in your racing mind. 

“Do you wanna get another drink? I’m gettin’ tired of the beers, doll,” Billy suggested, waiting for your nonverbal response before gently guiding you past the group of boys playing beer pong on your expensive dining room table and entering the kitchen filled with plastic cups and empty beer cans. 

As you waited for your best friend to pour you his popular concoction of a random soda and two different alcoholic drinks, you heard a familiar voice call your name out from the other side of the kitchen.

Raising your head to look for the owner of the voice, you were met with the two figures of Tatum and Stu, their hair all disheveled and their lips swollen from all the kissing they must’ve done. It enraged you the slightest bit, but the alcohol in your system was making you drowsy enough to not care as much as you normally would’ve. Billy whispered a few provoking comments into your ear, trying to work you up to see what your reaction would be, but you only shoved him off and sent him an annoyed glance. You turned back to the couple and faked a wide, lopsided grin, “Yeah, Stu? You wanted a drink?”

The tall boy nodded with a matching smile, declaring, “You’ve always known me the best. You’re amazing, you know that?” He extended his hand out to receive the red solo cup from your hand, thanking you with a wink. 

“I’m the best, I know.” You muttered, wiping your hands along the seam of your dress. You looked up at Tatum’s lovestruck face, gritting your teeth at the thought that it could’ve been you that Stu loved. But, reluctantly, you pushed the thought into the deep, dark depths of your mind and ushered the two lovebirds into the bustling living room. “You two go have fun!” 

Billy stood right behind you, watching as they dawdled off to the edge of the stairs before quickly stumbling back over to you. 

“My dearest best friend,” the brown-haired boy began once more, a wishful gaze plastered across his expression. “Do you mind if we . . . go up to your bedroom?” 

Your fake smile immediately fell into a deep scowl. “No.”

“Please?” Tatum whined, practically hanging off of Stu’s arm. “C’mon, you know us! It’s not like we’re strangers or anything.”

“It’s still a no.” 

“Why not?”

“No.”

“Why?” Stu repeated, more agitated.

A scoff escaped your lips. “You’re both drunk off your asses right now. I’m not letting any couple I know have sex in my bed, let alone a drunk-as-hell couple.”

You craned your neck to look at Billy in a silent attempt for backup. He just shrugged with a mischievous smirk. “It’s your room. Your call.”

“No, Stu. You can’t fuck in my room. End of conversation.” You said as you looked your friend straight in the eye.

Tatum still wasn’t convinced, “Just this one time? We’ll never ask you for this aga—”

And then you snapped. “For fuck’s sake, no means no, Tatum! I don’t care how sober you are or if you’ll ever ask for it again! God!” You ran your hands down your face as your chest heaved, your anger slowly bubbling up inside you. For weeks, you had successfully buried your crush on Stu into a place so difficult to get into, not even Billy could unlock it. But now, at the party that both Billy and Stu persuaded you to host, you were finally letting it out. You didn’t have to look back to know that the blond boy’s small smirk had now become a full-blown evil grin.

The girl flinched at your tone of voice and shrunk into her boyfriend’s side, nodding her head sadly as she slowly backed out of the kitchen. Stu, who was clearly more sober than his girlfriend, sent you a protective glare, almost telling you that he would talk to you about the outburst as soon as he got the chance to.

But you? You could’ve given less fucks. You were practically seething, getting angrier and angrier the more you looked at the two of them. Billy placed his hands on your shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look him in the eye as he spoke to you.

“You saw that, right? Tatum tried to force you to let her and Stu have sex in your room, and when you spoke your mind, she got all sad. You know what that did. That made Stu real mad at you, huh, doll?” He looked at your livid expression before continuing. “What are you gonna do about it, hm? Are you gonna take care of it? Or are you just gonna let it go like you have been for the past few weeks?”

You said nothing.

“Do you want me to handle it?”

Again, you said nothing. 

“Dolly, if you want something, you gotta answer me.”

Still nothing.

“Fine, let it go if you—”

“You want me to kill her, yeah? Want me to slit her fucking throat? I’ll fucking do it, Billy. That make you happy? Huh?” If someone had taken a good look at you, they would’ve seen your eyes darken and your jaw clench, your entire demeanor shifting from the cute, innocent girl to the mastermind behind all the Ghostface killings.

If Stu was the brawns of the operation and Billy was the brains, you might as well have been the whole operation in itself.

The mere sound of your gritty voice told Billy all he needed to know. He leaned closer to you, and with a smirk, he said, “Then go fucking do it.”

With anticipation, the boy followed you upstairs and to your room. You practically flung your closet door open and pulled one of the planks out of the floor, revealing your Ghostface costume, knife and mask. 

“There she is,” he hummed.

You hastily threw everything on in a flurry of rage, alcohol and unhealthy coping mechanisms, turning the voice modulator on with an evil grin to match Billy’s. You both stared at each other for a few seconds before you spoke up, “Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” And then you climbed onto the roof just above the garage (which was off to the side of your house), waiting patiently.

The shingles of the roof were beginning to dig into the flesh of your thighs before you heard the heavy door open and close. You smirked. Quietly climbing down the roof and landing on the pads of your toes, you snuck into the large room through the open garage door, managing to go unnoticed. Then, you silently made your way over to the door leading into the house, as well as the pad that controlled the opening and closing of the garage door. There, kneeled down at the bottom of the refrigerator, was Tatum in her skimpy little dress—the one you were still so, so jealous of—as she grabbed a couple of beers. 

You tilted your head at the back of her head and played around with your sharp knife, prodding your finger at the pointy tip of the blade. You heard the soft click of the lock from the other side of the door, which was followed by three light taps against the wooden material, assuring that Billy was on the other side standing guard. 

And when the blonde girl turned around and looked straight at you, you knew it was showtime.

She rolled her eyes at first, still making her way towards you as if you weren’t the real Ghostface. “Oh, I’m so scared!” She mocked. “You’re not funny, Billy. I know it’s you.”

When you shook your head at her, you could see the slight confusion in her eyes.

“Stu?”

You shook your head once more.

She scoffed, but you could hear her shaky breath loud and clear. “This is a lame joke, guys. I’m not scared!” She was projecting her voice like anyone else could hear her, but in reality, the music was blasting much too loud for her meek words to be heard. “You can move now.”

But you didn’t budge.

Tatum was starting to get annoyed, and you could tell. It was amusing. “Oh, I get it. You wanna play psycho killer,” she said again, holding the beers in her arms as she continued. “Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not a fucking dude.” And your blade sliced right through her stomach. Her blood-curdling scream only made your adrenaline pump even more, pulling the knife out of her flesh with a squelch. You watched pitifully as she tried to run towards the open garage door, but to her demise, you had already closed it shut. You bounded over to her in a few steps, pinning her to the garage floor as you dangled your dagger above her face.

Tatum tried to shove you off of her body multiple times, but she failed every single time. “Get off me!” She exclaimed, the beers now rolling to the side of the garage and forgotten in the heat of the moment. “Help! Someone! Please, help!”

“No one can hear you, dumbass.” You scoffed at her stupidity. “Any last words, little Tatum? Wanna say anything before I slit your throat? Figure out who I am?” The knife was pressed against the thin flesh of her neck, already beginning to draw blood from the pressure.

She still struggled against you. Through gritted teeth, she growled, “I don’t give a flying fuck who you are. Go to hell.”

“Oh, sweetie,” you smirked, pulling your mask off, “I’m already fucking there.”

Tatum’s eyes were blown wide at the revelation of your identity, her voice dying down, “How could you?”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad for you. You stole the love of my fucking life, Tatum. You knew I had feelings for him and you still went after him. Who the fuck does that?”

“Who the fuck slits their best friend’s throat?” She rebutted.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this around on me. We are not best friends. You’re the reason I turned out like this. Best friends don’t do that. Fuck you.”

You dug the knife into her throat, swiping it across with a satisfying slice. Her last words were mutters of your name, and you couldn’t have felt prouder. You watched as the life slowly left her eyes, getting off of her body and sauntering over to the door. You rapped your knuckles against it three times, just like your best friend had done before, and within milliseconds, it had opened with a proud Billy standing right behind it. 

“I heard everything,” he gloated. “I’m proud of you, doll. Sounded like a badass in there.” Before you could respond to him, you caught Stu’s figure bounding down the stairs in a hurry. A slight panic took over your body, and you immediately hid behind one of the storage boxes before he could see you.

The taller boy pushed Billy aside, and at the sight of his girlfriend’s lifeless body, he gawked, “Holy shit.”

The blond boy almost cackled, “Right? Didn’t think our little doll was capable of killing someone in such cold blood.” 

Stu let out a surprised laugh, “She did this? Fuck, I might be in love.”

“Aw, don’t go falling in love with me now, Stu,” you came out of your hiding spot with an overwhelming amount of newfound confidence at the sound of Stu’s joking confession. “Thought you’d be a little more upset that I just killed your little girlfriend.”

He only shrugged, “Yeah, maybe. But it’s you. Makes it kinda hot, don’t you think?” You hummed to question his words. Pulling you closer to him by your waist, he threw the knife onto the ground and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. “Killing your best friend’s girlfriend ‘cause he’s the love of your life, and all? I’d say that’s pretty hot.”

“You heard that?” Your cheeks burned knowing that Stu heard you call him the ‘love of your life’. 

“‘Course I did.”

You blushed even harder, looking down at the concrete floor of the garage.

“And just so you know,” he spoke up again, lifting your chin up with his pointer finger and thumb to gain your attention, “you’re the love of my life, too.”

[magnoliabutters]

• EYES ON ME •

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader (they/them, 18+)

summary: captain price and station chief kate laswell assign you to your latest mission with some new and old faces. for some reason they thought it would be a good idea to have two lieutenants...

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; angsttt to smut (kinda enemies to lovers trope?); cod mw 2 campaign spoilers; reader referred to by rank (lieutenant, "lt") and call sign (aero); weapons, gore, violence; heavy petting, oral and rough sex, etc.

word count: ~4.3k

support your author: reblogs for the sexy masked menace, ghostie boy ✨

• ghost stories series •

note: hello there! i’ve desperately needed to get this ghost smut out of my head. i hope you will join me on this crazy ghost loving journey. this is also my first time writing for a gender neutral reader. please let me know your thoughts so i can make my posts more inclusive for everyone! situational dynamics are inspired by the "my personal ghost" wattpad series. highly recommend.

resource: cod character list

Your CIA briefings usually last no more than 5-minutes. Laswell informs you of the target, the place, the time, and whether it’s a capture or kill. She typically chooses the squad for you, seeing as you haven’t collected many friends along the way. Price is often involved. Your favorite captain - your thoughts, priorities, and ideals always aligned. The briefing videos are always choppy and difficult to hear, but perfect for contracts.

“Her name is Nadia Sidorov. Intel says she will be at Restaurant Ébullition in Montpellier by 21:00,” Laswell reports. “France,” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, I know you have some history but Price will make sure everything’s clear before you land,” she replies with amusement. The country leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You love France, but France most certainly does not love you. Any mission you have had there typically goes to shit and leaves you improvising. Improvising tends to lead to more trouble than needed.

Laswell continues, “You are to capture her and deal-maker for interrogation. Deal-maker has ties with AQ.” You smile, “Tying up lose ends, Kate?” A smirk grows on her face. You aren’t supposed to know much about AQ’s organization, especially anything to do with the most recent mission against them. However, you have eyes everywhere. You tend to make it habit to keep tabs on your employers. Always ready for whatever they throw your way.

“I’ll get it done,” you answer with a firm nod. You reach to end the call, as you normally would at this point. “Wait, Aero-”, Laswell adds. You pause as quickly as you are instructed. “Your squad. You’ll be running with Sergeant MacTavish,” she continues. Soap, you think to yourself. He’s a good man to have, but can be quite annoying. He never knows how to keep quiet on coms, always making the corniest of jokes to keep things light. “And Lieutenant Riley,” she hesitantly adds.

You scoff with your eyebrows pulled together. “Another lieutenant?” you ask with a monotoned voice. You try your best to keep your face deadpanned, but you are disgusted at the thought of sharing rank with someone. To have to coordinate with another squad leader? To have to compromise and hear out their thoughts on how to approach the mission. Fuck that. “Price’s orders,” she shares. With an audible growl, you confirm, “I’ll get it done.” You furiously click the button to end the call. “Fucking hell.”

Boots on the ground and you are already dreading this mission. “Aero, it’s nice to see you again,” Soap says in passing as he pats your back with a smile. God, you hated his constant chipper attitude. You nod as you watch him run off towards the Captain’s table. There Price is, another wild style to his already wild beard. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, his eyes dart towards the map he’s laid upon the table. Oh, he knows exactly how much he’s asking of you by pairing you with another LT.

You observe the other men around the table. Many of which you have not met before. This was not out of the ordinary. It appears you may have been late to the briefing, despite being an hour early. “Welcome Aero,” Price says with a nod. “Captain,” you respond as you walk up to the table. “This is Alejandro and Rudy from Mexican Special Forces,” he continues. Rudy nods as Alejandro shoots you a smile. “You know Soap and Gaz.” Soap smiles at you, while Gaz smirks with a raise of his brow. You have some history with Gaz, but you were always a big fan of the solider.

“Lieutenant Riley, aka Ghost,” Price continues with finality. Soap bites his lip as he leads your gaze over towards the tall dark mass in the corner. The first thing you see is his skulled mask. It covers all but his eyes. Those eyes that burn holes into your face. They gaze back at only your eye line and none of your other features. He leaves no social or facial cues for you to decipher. You find it incredibly annoying.

You've had experience with masked soldiers. Usually, there's not much to look at underneath the mask. Or their face is a constant reminder of who they've become so they hide it away and never address it. You wonder why Simon Riley wears his, and why it's a skull. What's underneath? What's Ghost hiding? Arms crossed over his chest displays his black tattoos spread across his forearms. Interesting that he has visible identifying features, yet continues to use a mask.

“And this is Lieutenant y/l/n, aka Aero,” Price continues, pulling you from your thoughts. You look over the squad. If Price orchestrated this assignment, everyone must be more than capable to complete the mission. You trust your life in the Captain’s hands. However, it’s difficult to transfer that trust to those you’ve just met. Unfortunately, you have to try. “Hello boys,” you greet with a nod. A grin quickly forms on Soap, Gaz , and Alejandro’s faces as they exchange looks. Ghost remains stone cold, as far as you can tell.

“Sidorov will be meeting AQ’s out-sourcing team at the breakfast. We’ll have Gaz and Aero pose in the restaurant. Ghost and Soap overwatch. Alejandro and Rudy for exfil,” Price informs the group. Like a shot of unfortunate luck, both you and Ghost speak at the same time. “Why do they want her?” and “What does she have to offer?” You both exchange looks. Yours full of disgust. Ghost's eyes as ambiguous as ever. Soap and Alejandro snicker quietly. “This’ll be fun,” Soap adds with a bump to Gaz’s shoulder.

“Why do we need two Lieutenants, Price?” Ghost asks sternly. You weren’t able to hear it before on account of you both speaking over each other, but the tall masked man sounds deep, raspy, and unbearably serious. His voice filled with British inflection. The melodic tone has peaked your interest, but not any more than the Captain’s answer to the question.

Price sighs deeply, appearing to be annoyed. “God damnit,” he mutters under his breath. “Alright, you are both experts in your own fields. We need two of our top players for this mission. You two are the lieutenants. Figure out how you will both lead the 141.” He clearly has been annoyed for some time regarding the assignment, but funny how you have yet to even bring it up. Ghost, over there, must have drilled him prior to your arrival. He growls in response as you swear you watch the whites of his eyes roll. A slight smile forms on the side of your face.

With a clearing of your voice, you repeat, “Sidorov - what does she have to offer AQ?” Gaz quickly steps in. Your eyes darting towards his movement. “She’s an arms dealer. Pretty big in Europe. We have word that she’s moving something big,” he shares. “We need to find out what, when, and where.” You hum at the sound of his intel. “Sounds like fun. Where will exfil be?” you ask with your eyes to the map. Alejandro points towards the bridge across the way from the restaurant. “Los Vaqueros will be here. Ready for support if needed," he answers confidently.

"Alright," you answer. With a flick of your eyes, your glance shifts up to Ghost. "You got any questions, LT?" you tauntingly ask. You know exactly what you are doing. Hell bent on poking this masked bear. Soap exchanges looks between you two, like his first Christmas with divorced parents. Another growl emerges from behind the mask. It leaves you with a smirk. "Let's roll out," Price says as he grabs hold of the map.

Restaurant Ébullition has an interesting feel to it. Its stoned walls transport you to another time, but the food has you right here in the present. "God, I love when we get to eat on the job," you say with a mouth full of food. "You're damn right, Aero. This tastes incredible," Gaz responds with a laugh. You chuckle alongside him, truly selling the idea that both of you were close friends on a dinner date. All while beautiful Nadia is sitting alone three tables down from you. "Are you both done?" the chilling, deep voice plays through the covert communication device in your ear.

"Ugh. Can't even enjoy our meal, huh, Gaz?" you ask with a laugh. "Always work and no play," Gaz taunts. Ghost willingly radios his annoyed grunt. You take another bite of your pasta. A piece of you hinting that it should be your last, seeing as you are about to embark on quite the physical journey.

"AQ has arrived. One going in, two security outside," Soap radios in. You place down your fork as you shine a smile towards Gaz. "Eyes on," you whisper through your smile as you mark the male figure walking towards Sidorov. He wears a navy blue suit that fits him like a glove. "Confirmed meeting," Gaz says as he stabs his fork into another bite of food. You bite your lip as you watch the man and Sidorov greet each other. They both sit down as their hands rest upon their phones. "Electronic transaction," you mutter against your cup right before taking a sip of your water. "Tracking," Ghost answers coldly.

Gaz smiles as his hands reach over to yours. You oblige as you lean closer towards him. His fingers warm to the touch, but hardened in the way you appreciate. His delicate brown eyes leaving you with a genuine smirk. As much as this mission irks you, you do appreciate having something beautiful to look at.

While you are lost in thought, Gaz passes a small cylindrical item into your palm. "Who do you want?" he asks with a grin. The question leads you to believe the item is a tranquilizer. "Hm, I was thinking the man. I like his suit," you lean closer into him as you grip onto the needled tranq. He smiles devilishly as his eyes fall towards your mouth. You hum as you lightly place your lips upon him. Your eyes initially closed, but slowly open once you hear movement from the targets’ table.

"Are you two done snogging or are we gonna get the arm's dealer?" Ghost abruptly pours over the coms. You pull back with a laugh. "Someone's a little jealous," you murmur. That brings a huge smile to Gaz’s face. “Quite the opposite,” Ghost retorts. You place a gentle hand upon Gaz’s cheek, covering your mouth from Sidorov’s point of view.

You continue to keep your eyes on Gaz’s to sell that you were speaking only to him. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to be here and eat this delicious food right now?” Gaz places kisses to the palm of your hand. “No, I would not want to down there with you,” he answers matter of factly.

As much as his comment left a sting to your heart, you watch as Gaz’s eyes track Sidorov through the restaurant. She stands and walks towards the back kitchen. The AQ target stands as well. He straightens out his dress shirt and walks over to the front. "It's done," you whisper. Once their backs are turned, both you and Gaz go to your designated targets. He should have her down easy, but worst case he has Los Vanqueros to back him up. You, on the other hand, have to rely on Ghost’s overwatch.

“He’s about to meet up with his men,” Ghost chimes in. You hurry your pace as you watch the man pat one of his security on the shoulder. “Window’s lost. Made it harder on yourself,” he shares with disgust. Soap awkwardly adds, “What’s the point if there’s no challenge?” With a roll of your eyes, you mark one civilian in the area - the valet boy. As the target was finishing his conversation, you quickly move past him to give the valet your ticket first.

The boy runs to grab your car in the other lot. You turn to the men with a smile sprawled across your face. “Sorry, boys. I’m in a bit of a rush,” you share as they look at you with disdain. Abruptly, you stab the target in the top of his thigh with your tranquilizer. Your thumb pressing firmly against the plunge. All while spinning your leg through a low kick and dropping one of the security guards onto their backs. The other one attempts to reach for his gun. You quickly grab your knife from your boot and fling it. It lands perfectly into the man’s chest, just as Ghost’s bullet plows through his head.

You let out a growl as you turn your attention towards the man on his back. You rapidly plunge your other knife into his heart as you look up towards Ghost’s overwatch position. “I had him,” you say through gritted teeth. “Didn’t look like it,” he responds. You shake off that bullshit and reach for the AQ trader. He rests peacefully, face down, on the sidewalk.

As you lug him over your shoulder, a car pulls around the front in a mad dash. You lock eyes with Rudy, who’s smile slowly grows. “Hola, teniente,” he greets. “Qué tal, Rudy?” you respond. You walk the target over to the trunk of the car. Your arm pulls it open. You lean your shoulder over its empty so that the target lands gracefully. Closing the hatch, you hear Ghost ask, “Gaz, Alejandro - you at exfil?” You intently listen as you walk over to the front seat.

“Yes, LT, with target in hand,” Gaz answers. You pull yourself into the front seat. “Let’s wrap this up and get home,” you say sternly. All in hopes of closing the mission out before Ghost. How did your sole purpose in life become annoying this masked mystery? You watch as Rudy begins to laugh beside you. You can’t help but smirk as you mutter “Shut up” under your breath.

• qué tal: what's up?

Ghost stands in the corner of the room, his apparent favorite spot. His lurking tall mass blending in with the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stand. His presence is making interrogation so much harder for you. His continuous staring leaves you uncomfortable. You catch glimpses of his eyes through the swaying lamp that fills the room. They are always looking back at you.

Soap rests against the wall. His eyes solely focused on the target, which you greatly appreciated. He remains silent as you do your work. The group had brought Sidorov and the AQ contact to a US black site. Each room was lined with sound proofing, perfect for what you had in mind. Even the briefing room outside was lined with the proof, just to further ensure the intel received stayed with the right hands.

“Man, let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. I really don't want to fuck up this suit," you say as you pull against the AQ target's blazer. "What’s your name?” you ask. You crouch in front of him as he sits upon an old chair with his hands tied tightly behind him. The man smiles, “Fuck you.” His accent thick with Russian descent. “Alright, ‘Fuck you.’ What is Sidorov moving?” you ask. That gets a chuckle out of Soap.

The man remains silent. His eyes tracking your every movement. With a sigh, you pull out your knife from your back waistline. “How’s this going to go?” you ask as you shine your knife towards him. “Fuck you,” he repeats without hesitation. You smile as you plunge your knife into the top of his thigh. The man’s screams radiate throughout the room. Music to your ears.

“Stand down,” Ghost announces as he walks from his darkened corner. You rise from your crouch to meet him head on. “Excuse me?” you ask. Did this asshole really tell you to stand down? As if he has any authority over you? After all his condescending shit tonight? Fuck that. You stand face to face with nostril’s flared and your fists clenched.

“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s take this outside, LT’s,” Soap suggests as he guides you both outside of the interrogation room. With a slight close of the door behind him, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “You two need to talk. I’ll keep pressing him,” he says as he walks back inside the interrogation room. The door makes a clear clicking sound when he locks it behind him. Making it impossible for you both to follow him.

Once Soap is gone, you turn to look at Ghost, who’s been staring at you the entire time. “The hell is your problem, Ghost?” you ask, rage filled through your voice. "You aren't needed here. You can leave," he states calmly. You scoff, trying to hold back your laughter. You lean in, closer to his stitched skulled mask. "I'm pretty sure the Captain decides that. Not you," you whisper.

"Back up," Ghost warns. His voice remaining cool, calm, and collected. You lean in closer to him. Your face right in front of his. You are practically begging for him to do something. You can see the anger building in his eyes as you show no fear, no authority, no respect. Finally, some emotion he cannot hide. "No," you retort.

Ghost quickly extends his arm to land a blow to your gut. You, just as quickly, block it and land a fist against his jaw. Hey, he started it. Your leg goes in for a kick, but he blocks it with his own. He lands a blow against your gut that time and another onto your nose. Blood trickles down from one of your nostrils as you increase the distance between you two.

The familiar itchy sensation as the blood pools atop your upper lip. You can't help but smile. You always enjoyed a good fight. Your nose bleeds for only a minute. His eyes remain hellbent on you, still filled with rage.

Through dipping and ducking, you manage to drop your fist onto his zygomatic bone. Guaranteeing a black eye that only he will see when he takes off his mask. As you reach in for another jab to his nose, he wraps your extended arm around your body. He tucks you close against his as he pins the arm across your chest. Your elbow digging deep within his stomach. He grunts as he rapidly adjusts his hand placements.

Before you knew it, your pinned arm was now being used against you and holding your chin against your left shoulder. Your other arm now held tightly at the side of his hip. He got you. Fuck.

As you both breathe heavily against each other in this tight hold, you continue to try and best your way out of it. With each of your movements, you begin to feel a growing firmed mass against your ass. You recognize exactly what it was. It was difficult to pull your focus back towards getting out Ghost's hold. It even left you wondering if you wanted to. Confusing thoughts flood your brain as your body continues to make attempts out of his grasp.

You finally are able to move your leg enough to land the heel of your foot against Ghost's toes. In his pain, you are able to snake your body away from him. You face him once again, but this time with your hands to your sides. His brown eyes watch you carefully, preparing for your next move.

As you often do when fighting, you allow your body to take control. You trust your instincts and where your body leads you. You raise one of your hands as your eyes remain on Ghost's. Your dominate hand slowly travels to the inner hem of his cargo pants. As he feels your gentle touch, he takes in a sharp surprising breath. His eyes remain on you and still filled with anger. But he wasn't stopping you as you place your palm upon the outline of his cock.

You press against him with more force. Your own mouth begins to hang as you pull closer to him. His bulge growing in your hands. Ghost releases a shaky breath as his chin raises. His eyes remaining on you. Before you can stop yourself, you whisper, "I want it." Another breath is released between the two of you. It is followed by a hesitant nod of Ghost's head.

With his agreement, your hands gradually travel to Ghost's belt. You unbuckle it while both your eyes continue to remain on each other. No one would dare break the gaze. As you unzip and lower his pants, you slowly descend onto your knees in front of him. The bulge is even more evident against his blacked out boxer briefs. Your mouth begins to water.

Ghost's breathing intensifies at the sight of you on your knees. Your eyes still fixed upon him. Slow again, you pull down his briefs. Your eye contact breaks only to reveal the large girthy red tipped cock that flips onto his toned stomach. You release a slow breath as you see a bead of precum emerging from his slit. Your mouth is drawn to him. It is undeniable.

You allow your body to take charge once more. Your hand slowly wraps around the base of his cock, firm against his groomed curls. Your mouth slightly opens as you are ready to take him in. Ghost's fingers curl underneath your chin. Your eyes land upon his once again. Those warm brown eyes watching you with hellish intent.

He softly instructs, "Eyes on me, Lieutenant." With a growing smile, you guide his cock towards your mouth. As your lips wrap his tip, you watch as he takes in a heavy breath. His eyelids slightly fluttering. You note that he is trying his best to keep his eyes on you as well.

Circling his reddened head, your tongue lathers Ghost's cock. The salted taste of his precum leaving you with an abundance of warmth within your chest. You hum against his dick as his girth feels fantastic in your mouth. He begrudgingly releases a short, low toned groan as you take more of him in your mouth. "Fuck," he murmurs as his hand moves towards the top of your head. As his body tightens, his hands grip onto several strands of your hair. You enjoy the tightening pull against your scalp as your tongue travels against the thick vein under his dick.

Ghost's moans fill the air. You grab tightly against the back of his thighs as you take more of him into your mouth. He fills your mouth so fucking good. The sounds he makes when your tongue explores his cock leave you so close to your own euphoria. You struggle to keep your eyes on him, but his are most definitely on yours. "Let me fuck that pretty face," he says as he gathers more of your hair. He ruts his hips against your chin and cheeks. His cock firmly pressed to the back of your throat. You gag on his length, which makes him thrust harder into you.

"God, you take me so well," Ghost whispers as his cock twitches against the roof of your mouth. You decide to take control and wrap your hand around his base once again. You begin to pump his dick as your mouth sucks tightly against his head. Your tongue lapping up anything that came from his pretty slit. He struggles to find his balance as you suck on his cock. He leans against a desk as your hands rest firmly against the tops of his thighs.

"Fuck. Get up," he demands with his hands now hooked under your arms. He lifts you up quickly, leaving a gasp escaping your lips. He spins himself around you so that your back is against his chest. Ghost lands a firm hand against the crook of your neck. With his strength, he pushes your chest down onto the desk. Your body feels on fire as he plans to use your ass however he pleases. You feel his hands harshly pulling your pants down.

As you lay bare assed in front of him, Ghost's breathing heavies. One of his hands lands upon your waist as the other guides his cock to your hole. You feel his saliva-soaked dick circle your entrance as you grip onto the desk. Any and all surroundings were gone from your field of vision. All you had was this desk and Ghost. You moan as you feel his cock twitch against you. You wanted him so badly in this moment. Nothing could take this away from you. Until you hear the popping of the door's lock.

You feel Ghost's hands push off of your back. You quickly raise from the desk and pull your pants up. You see Ghost doing the same in your peripherals. Pulling your shirt down, you look up to see Soap opening the door slowly. "Sidorov's got a stealth bomb drone. AQ's hoping to use it against Las Almas cartel and Los Vaqueros," he shares with concern. You answer with a clearing of your throat, "Two birds, one stone." Soap nods. "Let's see if Alejandro, Gaz, and Rudy got anything out of Sidorov," Ghost says as he quickly turns and leaves the briefing area. You turn to Soap to see if he might have anything to say from what he saw, but he fortunately did not seem phased. Maybe he didn't see anything. Fuck, you hope he didn't see anything. With a deep breath, you follow Soap into the hallway.

note: let me know if you want more! i think i want more tbh <3 reblogs if you enjoyed please!

• take me • part two •

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

[abarbaricyalp]

Written for the @samsseptember prompt Riley // Rated G // CW: death, grief // title from the Laura Gilpin poem "Life After Death"

A Dead Tree Casts a Shadow

"Hey, Rye," Sam greeted as he dropped a backpack full of food to the ground and shook out the blanket under his arm. He laid it on the ground, tamped down the sun dried grass underneath it, and then sat and began to distribute the food.

"I just happened to be passing by and you know I've always gotta stop. I didn't mean to come this way, but I've been following a lead and he's dragging me all over the place."

Sam propped a beer and a Dr. Pepper against the gravestone. The screw top caught on the engraved letters that spelled out Beloved Friend, which was fitting enough. Really, it could have just stopped at Beloved.

"This is a crazy story," he admitted in half a chuckle, even if there was something a little darker, a little more bitter behind his voice. "This guy I'm kinda seeing--you may have heard of him, Steve Rogers, right?--dragged me into this mess. His best friend came back from the dead. Can you imagine? Hey, are you planning on doing that to me?" He reached over to rap on the stone and then smoothed his hand over the ground in front of it.

"Kinda wish you would," Sam admitted. "Even if you came back as much of a pain in the ass as this guy. Hey, you were into Captain America. Who the hell is Bucky Barnes? What kind of name is that? I know he was the handsome one in the photos. The one that died, obviously. I've been trying to do research on him but it would be so much easier if you just info-dumped on me. I know you know useless shit like his favorite record. Come on. Come back just long enough to tell me."

The ground did not part like some great, giving maw and Riley didn't pull himself out, bitching about dirt in his hair and 'why the hell did they bury me in black? I said blue.' Sam still watched for too long and then sighed.

"I guess it's only fair. Barnes didn't actually die. Rogers couldn't go down after him to bring home a body. I had you. I carried you."

The memory had been warped every which way to Sunday. Most of the time, he was saved from the true terror of it. In his memory, that old thing protecting him after all these years, Riley was just a little smokey and dusty, a little bloodied. Just dead enough that Sam couldn't argue about it, even as he begged Riley to wake up. In the nightmares, there was almost nothing left of him. Splatters of blood and uniform. Or a crawling, screaming zombie of bits and pieces. Really, it had been messy and horrifying. Sam hadn't really seen much of anything. Truly couldn't recall the exact state of Riley's body as he carried him away. He'd just known his best friend was dead and there was nothing that he could do to change it.

Nothing evil Nazis could do either.

"I miss you, man," he said softly. He rubbed the lip of his own bottle along the top of the gravestone and listened to the glass catch on the rock. "I'd almost convinced myself I was okay without you, but having friends again just makes it that much more obvious that you're not alone. I almost tried to text you the other day, y'know.

"Hey, you know it took your momma almost a year and a half to pull your number outta service? She kept saying it was the same price just to leave you on. You know how she is about that kind of thing. But I think she was calling you even more than me. Leaving all these voicemails just in case you might ever come back and need to be caught up thirty seconds at a time."

Sam bracketed his knees on either side of the gravestone and laid back in the blanket to watch the sky. There were two birds doing acrobatics on the breeze and, all of a sudden, hot tears sprang to Sam's eyes and choked him down the throat.

"I miss you so bad, man. I'm in the wings again. I kind of stole them back. And I love it. I love it just as much as the first time we strapped them on. And I hate myself for loving it. You're supposed to be here. It's not a solo operation. I look for you before every jump. I think about you every time I see a bird. And you're not here. You're never here. There's a whole empty section on my vital menus where yours are supposed to be.

"How am I supposed to do this, Rye? I'm one of a pair. And Steve, he's great, but he's not my other half. Not when I'm in the air."

He hadn't realized he was sobbing until he had to turn onto his side to avoid choking. The sky left his field of vision, replaced instead by a tranquil cemetery. Well, a blurry cemetery at any rate. There was no one else around, so Sam let himself curl up in the fetal position, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to pretend him and Riley were twin commas in a huge bed. He hadn't done anything like this in months and months and months but he couldn't help it now. Even if he knew it wasn't going to work. He'd forced himself to stop picturing Riley next to him and now he couldn't make himself do it even under duress.

Of all the emotions he'd thought he'd have to deal with by tagging up with Steve Rogers, this bone deep ache for the things he'd lost hadn't been high on the list. If anyone had asked two months ago, he'd say he had friends. That he missed Riley but life had to go on and Riley wouldn't want him to mope. He hated moping. But evidently none of those friendships elicited the same kind of response that Riley had. Sam had barely known Steve before he started to fall back into old habits. Throw in a dead best friend come back to life and Sam was in further over his head than he anticipated.

There was no way Barnes could have known to drag Sam out here. After the program was grounded, all of Riley's information went behind walls of black marker. And Barnes would only have looked into it if he thought this was a good way to lose Sam's tail, which would imply he'd gleaned some amount of privy into Sam and Riley's relationship. All of it was impossible. Just a horrible coincidence. Or maybe a really good coincidence.

Sam had needed this. He could pretend that holing himself up in DC was actually steps in the right direction, that ignoring the ghost of Riley's presence, always right in his periphery, was the best course of action, that fiddling away time with mindless relationships was healthy, but he knew all of that was a lie. He couldn't just pretend this was fine. That he was fine. He clearly was not.

Man, he'd just jumped feet first into taking down a century old Nazi cult. And now he was hunting down an undead assassin who may or may not still be brainwashed. An assassin who had tried to plummet him to his death.

"He was rude about it too," Sam told Riley. He figured whatever Riley was doing, he could probably read Sam's mind. No need to fill him in. He turned over onto his back again. "He had this grappling hook thing that he shot at me. Why? That's not important. Point is, one second he was down on the ground doing these acrobatic jumps to avoid bullets--the dude can jump out of the way of bullets--and the next he'd yanked me out of the sky. Ripped the wing clean out of the pack. And then the motherfucker kicked me off the landing deck of a huge airship.

"You would've loved this thing, dude. It was like one of those navy jet ships you're so obsessed with, but in the sky. Man, I don't think I could've gotten you back off of it. You would have moved in and never left."

The birds had disappeared, following the current the way Sam and Riley would on the quiet days.

"You remember the first time the wings malfunctioned on us? When we were actually in the air? A whole system malfunction. We both lost control. Had to pull the parachutes for the first time. We pulled them so late. You probably broke your ankle but kept lying to the medical team. God, we were giddy when we landed. That freefall was unlike anything I've ever felt. I mean, it was horrifying, but wasn't there that moment where you just let yourself fall? Just felt the air and your stomach rushing by. The world was so far away."

Until it hadn't been.

"It felt like that again. I remembered to pull my parachute this time. You weren't around for me to fuss over, so I had more time to actually think. But it felt the same just for a second. I was less giddy on the landing. You weren't there to limp over to me on the ground, and I had someone to be mad at this time. But still. There was that flying-falling feeling that I only got with you."

The words ran out then, as quick as they came. There were a million other things he wanted to tell Riley, but nothing was sticking in his mouth. So he just sat up and parsed out the gas station picnic he'd brought. A whole extra meal for a man who couldn't eat it. But Sam would leave it out and maybe a different kind of shadow would take advantage of it before a billion bugs did.

He ate the sandwich and half the bag of chips in silence and had started to sort out a bag of M&Ms by color before he spoke again.

"I think I'm happy. Like, actually happy this time. I mean, I'm exhausted. This superhero thing is no joke. And weirdly lonely? I mean, Steve and me are together most of the time but I haven't met, like, Iron Man or Thor. I hang out with Black Widow though. You never stood a chance by the way. You would literally be like a cute puppy to her. But she's great. She's teaching me a lot. She's hilarious. But she's busier than Steve is. Has a real job in this organization, I guess.

"I forgot how good it could feel to be tired. Full days and new experiences. Chasing this other asshole all around. But, I mean, I'm getting that travel vacation I always wanted. Went to the coolest natural history museum. It was, like, a literal cave. And rock climbing. I had to do some crazy rock climbing. God, I just wish I could be doing this with you."

He laid out all of the yellow M&Ms across Riley's headstone and then leaned over to kiss the stone itself. "I'll see you later, man. Won't stay away for so long this time. Tell my mama and dad I said hi for me and I'll stop by and see your mama, alright? Be good."

He let himself trace Riley's name one more time before he stood up and collected his trash and blanket. He shoved it all back into his bag before casting one more look around. There was no one. No best-friends-come-back, no shadows, no other picnic-ers. Up in the sky, the birds had come back, circling around each other and tumbling down and then soaring back up with joyful little calls.

Sam smiled at them as his heart squeezed in his chest again. "Yeah, I see you, Riley," he said. "I'm right there too."

[sammyloomis]

i’m curious what your general thoughts on the characters were? i found the main cast pretty likable on average tbh

ohhhHOHOHO well then ill have to make a cheeky list n talk about em all then :] ill go in order of appearence i guess (and yeah i ended up liking most of them! with a few nit picks here and there)

laura: i fucking love her oh my god, i was kind of surprised when i got to the end and found myself as into her character as i was. shes super cool, queen of costume changes, queen of being a rly cool werewolf, queen of having an eyepatch, queen of my heart

max: ohh my god this lad fghj i love him too, hes so..... Dopey idk how else to describe him. hes so casually hilarious idk if hes ever aware of it. he was super nice in my playthrough because i was nice to Him and i think he and laura are a great couple :'] drinks his respects women juice every day

jacob: he was living his jessice riley fantasy spending half the night in his underwear covered in blood. king of being in touch with his emotions, i loved that he cried so much and wasnt as much of the douche bag jock type (like he still Was a dick a fair few times, but im baby girlifying him)

kaitlyn: SHE DESERVED MORE SCREEN TIME WTF MAN like considering shes supposed to be the final girl to ryans final guy she didnt have NEARLY as much gameplay as him :[ which is such a shame because shes GREAT again super super cool, i Loved her and dylans friendship, the whole scrapyard scene was amazing and one of the best in the game imo

ryan: ohh ryan..... ryan ryan ryan. a friend said this yeaterday but he suffers from the mike munroe treatment where the game Clearly wants you to like him by having a lot of segments with him and in doing so it just made me kind of..... Not like him :[ i also felt like he was resistant to laura and the truth of what was goin on for Too Long, like at the point he should have realised the stakes he just Kept Going which was frustrating

dylan: i actually started of really not liking dylan fghj i thought he was kinda annoying :'] but he Defo grew on me once shit started going south. like once the very obviously a front started dropping he was much less of a pest fghjk AND like i said with kaitlyn, the scrapyard scene with those 2 was INCREDIBLE. also love that he asked for his hand to be cut off and then was like WHY DID YOU DO THAT!? D':

nick: hrhhhhh okay. nick. man nick you really fuckin got my goat huh?? just snatched it up like el chupacabra. he was so fucking BORING dude, and when he wasnt being boring he was being kind of a dick >:[ even before the bite. the campfire scene im sure is gonna make a lot of people dislike emma but i would like to point out that HE KISSES HER BACK. QUITE HAPPILY TOO. so yeah, not a big nick fan, but i dont Hate him, i think once he gets bitten its actually a pretty interesting downward spiral

abigail: ohhhh abi you sweet baby. she was very cute and very sweet and UNFORTUNATELY that meant.... she was a lil one note. but again she was SO under used it was so annoying!! it felt like she was just there as a narrative device for nick and once he was out of the picture she was kinda pushed to the back. the parts shes in, all she rly does is.... be there fghj and from what ive seen quite a few of her deaths are being killed by her friends once they turn into werewolves

emma: controversial queen. my thoughts on emma are Complicated, especially after the campfire thing, and a lot of the time she felt kind of uninterested in what was going on which, considering her character and how she talks about putting up a front a lot of the time, i can understand. all that being said, i still love her, i think shes interesting, and i WILL defend her because i know how people like to immediately jump on female characters who arent totally """nice"""..... oh also shes in love with abi so

[wikiangela]

so, I really liked season 6 - here's some general thoughts and opinions

I mean, I hated what happened to Tara and I don't think I'll ever get over it, she was my fave - I literally took like a month break from watching after 6x19 because I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Tara

but it was a really good season (not close to how amazing s5 was but still great l)

I loved Buffy dealing with being back, though her relationship with Spike was getting annoying tbh 😂 at first I felt bad for Spike with how Buffy was playing with him all the time, up until that bathroom scene tbh

also, tbh in 6x22 I couldn't care less about Spike's side of the episode but omg he got his soul back?? I'm really curious about what's gonna happen now ngl 👀

Willow and Tara were my fave part of this season, loved how they portrayed Willow struggling with her addiction to magic etc - and, again, how could they take Tara away from us 😭💔

I was so here for Dark Willow, I was 💯 rooting for her (tho I probably was supposed to be against her but fuck it, I wanted revenge too) 😂😂 the show could've ended here with Willow actually destroying the world and I'd still be with her, what even is the point without Tara 😭

I think I'm starting to like Anya a bit more (she's still annoying tho) and I like that she's a vengeance demon again

and I definitely dislike Xander now, for many reasons that I ready expressed in other posts I think 😂 he's just so infuriating, and at this point I'm pretty sure part of my dislike must be the actor, because I saw him in criminal minds too and I'm annoyed every second he's on screen (it's never for long but I hope he stops showing up altogether soon lol - I'm on s7 there too 😂) I genuinely wish Willow eneded up killing Xander at the end there lol

and omg I was SO sick of Anya and Xander's relationship and of hearing about the wedding and don't get me started on how Xander just left her at the altar, and how he handled all that (I have a whole other post about it, not gonna get into it again)

I love that Giles didn't die, I genuinely got worried there for a second, but I'm so happy he didn't 😂 missed him when he wasn't there tbh (tho that laughing scene with Buffy was a bit weird and went on for way too long 😂)

the trio weren't the best villains but also not the worst, they were more competent than I initially gave them credit for and Warren was seriously gross and evil and got what he deserved haha

also, I saw that so many people love the musical episode and it's the top rated eps on imdb, but I lowkey hated it - not the worst episode of the series but definitely far from fave 😂 the worst episode of the season was definitely 6x15 - as you were - with fucking Riley back 🤢 god I hated that one so much, almost as much as beer bad (the actual worst episode of the series so far imo) 😂😂

the finale was insane and I loved it - tho that scene with Willow and Xander was kinda meh and lowkey anticlimactic? idk I was underwhelmed 😂😂 him just repeating 'I love you' was too cheesy even for me tbh, and because I don't like Xander, I probably liked it less than I normally would've anyway 😂 (so it might be just my bias, I admit haha)

tho tbh I also wish we got more of Dark Willow than just, what was it, three episodes? would've been even better haha

but overall, it was a good season, tho I'm never gonna forgive them for killing off Tara - despite that, I did enjoy it a lot and can't wait to start s7 soon 😁

[linawritesocs]

riley's birthday ssr vignette + art!

yes, i didn't know how exactly to draw his ssr card, so i was like "you know what. sure maybe i can just draw something for their birthdays, but it doesn't have to be their cards". and i'm actually kinda proud of how it came out >:D you'll see it under the cut!

also, since riley is the last character to get a first birthday vignette this year ignoring those characters who didn't get anything last year like merrill or minnie, other vignettes are going to be the union ones! i really wanted to write something about seth interviewing those other ocs like angel or allen (SETH BEING DISGUSTED WITH ALLEN THE WHOLE TIME IS PURE COMEDY) but.. i think i should do it in a more canon way. and also i don't want to draw them wearing the same outfits, haha. but hey, maybe seth will still interview one of them! and he will definitely get his own birthday vignette too!

[ part 1 ]

[ savanaclaw dorm lounge - birthday venue ]

seth: riley-chan, happy birthday!

riley: ah, it's you, seth-san.. hello.

seth: aww, you look so cute today! i want to squish you so bad..

riley: .. squish? don't you mean "squeeze"? floyd-senpai says that word a lot, though i'm still not sure what he means by that.

seth: and it's probably for the best that you don't know that.

seth: anyway, how is our birthday boy doing? are you having fun?

riley: your microphone is so shiny..

seth: huh? wait, oh no, it still has the same design that i used for cater-chan's birthday!

riley: so you change your microphone's.. uh.. "theme" or "aesthetic" depending on who you're supposed to interview? how do you do that?

seth: yeah! for example, it had this flower theme when we celebrated avery-chan's birthday and i tried to make it as bright and colorful as possible for cater-chan's birthday!

riley: i see.. very impressive, seth-san. is it working though?

seth: it's covered in paint and glitter, riley-chan. this mic is NOT working.

riley: oh. for some reason it doesn't sound that impressive anymore.

seth: ".. is he disappointed?"

seth: anyway, about the question i asked you earlier-

riley: hm? you asked me something?

riley: oh, wait.. this is an interview, so you're probably supposed to ask questions, right? and i'm supposed to answer.

seth: y-yeah. so, about your birthday party..

riley: .. it's nice, i guess.

seth: you don't look so happy though.

riley: it's just.. i like spending time with other savanaclaw students, since most of them are scared of me or they just think i'm weird.

riley: but other students.. most of them think i'm "cute" and they refuse to leave me alone. i hate them.

seth: "h-how can these savanaclaw jocks be scared of YOU??"

seth: "wait, does this mean that he hates me too?"

riley: savanaclaw students are nice though. i like them.

seth: "i can hear vance-chan trying to make leona let him transfer to savanaclaw."

seth: are you having fun though?

riley: well.. the cake was nice. also i got to spend some time alone because i got a new bat as a birthday gift from one of the students and it made me so happy, i decided to carry it with me everywhere and others found it scary, so they just.. left me alone.

seth: "how am i supposed to tell that you're happy from your face expression??"

seth: i see, so you still got some alone time despite your popularity. that's good to hear.

riley: but then you came.

seth: o-oh.

seth: um.. wait, about the cake, where did other students get it? i don't think i know any savanaclaw students that are good at baking.. ah, they probably just bought it somewhere and didn't think too hard.

riley: oh.. by the "cake" i meant a cake-shaped soap they bought for me.

seth: HUH??

riley: it didn't taste like cake though. but it sure smelled like one.

seth: .. did you eat it, riley-chan.

riley: yeah. what about it?

seth: um?? aren't you supposed to feel sick after that??

riley: it's okay. i'm used to eating things that aren't.. uh.. "edible".

seth: .. can you give an example?

riley: well, dry leaves can be very crunchy. i like their texture. it's kind of like eating chips. grass is very tasty too.

riley: paper can be nice too. it can be very sharp though.. sometimes eating it can be a bit painful.

riley: also rocks-

seth: AND YOU NEVER FEEL SICK AFTER EATING ALL OF THAT??

riley: i told vance-kun about it before and he was just as confused as you at first, but then he said that i'm just "built different".

seth: .. i don't know if i should be concerned or amazed.

seth: "just what could possibly drive him to eating this kind of stuff?"

seth: "oh.. maybe his family's financial status wasn't that good so he had to get used to eating these things?"

[ part 2 ]

seth: oh, speaking of gifts, did you get anything from your family, riley-chan?

seth: if that's okay to ask, of course!

seth: "oh no.. what if they didn't have enough money to get him a gift.. this poor thing.. WAIT, I DIDN'T MEAN TO SAY HE'S POOR IN THAT WAY!"

riley: ah, they sent me a new phone, some new outfits to wear because they were concerned about me wearing my school uniform all the time, even when i go to sleep, a game console because they heard about me being close with vance-kun, actually, they sent me like three of them because they didn't know which one is the best..

seth: ...

riley: those gifts are fine, but my favorite has to be the crystals they got for me. they're very pretty.

riley: huh? is something wrong, seth-san?

seth: "I LITERALLY CAME UP WITH A TRAGIC BACKSTORY FOR HIM AND IT TURNS OUT THAT HE'S JUST AS SPOILED AS ALLEN!"

seth: "wait, it makes sense since they're cousins."

seth: um.. riley-chan.. i didn't know that your family was so rich..

riley: oh, my parents are just as rich as allen's, actually. i just don't talk about it that much, unlike him.

seth: i see. it's just that allen likes to spend A LOT of money. he usually spends it on expensive gifts, but he's also the kind of guy who goes "ah yes, it's IMPULSIVE PURCHASE TIME" whenever he's feeling sad.

riley: haha, that's just like allen. it's kind of cute of him to do that.

seth: "CUTE??"

seth: "ah, that's right, i kinda forgot that he basically worships his cousin.."

seth: i get him though, i can act like that sometimes too. riddle-chan is always there to stop me from doing that though.

riley: oh.. it doesn't sound like a good thing to do, you probably should spend your money more reasonably.

seth: "HE LITERALLY JUST PRAISED ALLEN FOR DOING EXACTLY THE SAME THING!"

seth: oh, what about your relationship with your parents? it looks like they love you a lot.

riley: ah.. they're nice. they can be a bit.. embarrassing though.

riley: they're the type of parents to loudly cheer for me when i'm playing sports.

seth: aww, that's so sweet! it's nice to hear that your parents are so supportive.

riley: sometimes i wish they could just leave me alone.

seth: "what's wrong with this kid.."

seth: anyway, what about the other gifts you got today?

riley: oh, ruggie-senpai was the one to get me a cake-shaped soap actually. he used leona-senpai's money, so it's like.. a gift from both of them, i guess.

riley: he looked so shocked when i started eating it though.. what's the deal with him judging me for doing that? i know he eats really weird things sometimes too!

seth: "ah, he's acting more like a true "spoiled rich kid" now."

riley: jack-kun also got me this night light, it's cactus-shaped. you can really see that it's a gift from jack-kun.

seth: it looks so cute!! do you like it?

riley: yes, i like it a lot. i'm glad that it's just a night light and not a real cactus, because i don't think i would be good at taking care of it. my memory is not that good and i get distracted often, so.. and i would be very sad if something happened to it.

seth: you could ask avery-chan for help though!

riley: ah.. avery-senpai is one of those students who think i'm scary.

seth: "it's because of his eyes and face expression, isn't it?.."

[ part 3 ]

seth: oh, oh, did you get anything from vance-chan?

riley: he wished me a happy birthday earlier, but he said that i will get a gift from him a bit later. he said that i should look forward to it and he thinks that i'll like it.

seth: ohh, so interesting~ i wonder what he got for you! it must be something very special!

riley: he probably just forgot about my birthday.

seth: w-why do you think so?

riley: because i mentioned my birthday a few days ago and he started acting really weird after that. he refused to spend time with me after that and he looked very nervous and he was like "OH, S-SORRY, I-I'M VERY B-BUSY TODAY, B-BYE!"

riley: i'm telling you, he probably forgot about it and remembered only when i mentioned it.

seth: "so even though he obviously has a crush on riley-chan, vance-chan still forgot about the gift.."

seth: hm, i wonder how you used to spend your birthday in the past. do you think this year's birthday party is more fun than the ones you had when you were a kid?

riley: i'm not really a fan of birthdays, actually.

riley: i hate being the center of attention and it gets even worse when it's my birthday.

riley: my parents always insisted on inviting all the neighborhood kids even though i never was friends with them and didn't care about them that much.

riley: they were so annoying.. i always wished they could just disappear..

riley: ahaha, sometimes i imagined something very bad happening to them in the middle of the birthday party and it made me so happy..

seth: "o-okay, he can be just as scary as his cousin."

seth: "wait, his cousin-"

seth: hey, did you get anything from allen today?

riley: ...

riley: i.. i didn't.

seth: "just as i expected."

seth: oh.. i'm sorry, riley-chan. i know that he doesn't really like you.

riley: he doesn't like me?

seth: well, yeah-

riley: so you're saying allen hates me?

seth: yeah, i thought it was obvious.

riley: ...

seth: a-are you about to cry-

riley: oh well, i guess i just have to make him like me then.

seth: um.. riley-chan, why are you so obsessed with your cousin?

seth: you know, it makes you look kinda creepy.

riley: oh, it's just..

riley: it's because he was the only child who never wanted to play with me, talk to me or do anything with me.

riley: hehe, meeting a kid like that was so exciting for someone like me who was loved by everyone..

riley: it's okay if he hates me. it's even more fun to make him notice me that way.

riley: i'm sure we will become friends one day.

seth: .. hey, riley-chan.

seth: so you thought allen was interesting because he was the only person who hated you, right?

riley: yes, what's so wrong about that?

seth: well, a lot of things, but.. why do you want him to like you then?

seth: do you wish to be loved or do you wish to be hated?

seth: are you sure that you really hate being the center of attention that much?

seth: or do you secretly enjoy making people become obsessed with you?

riley: ...

riley: i think it's time for you to go, seth-san.

seth: y-you're right.

seth: once again, happy birthday, riley-chan!

[penelopepserver]

Server trash, but the GOOD KIND.

so Jack, our FAVO BINMAN is treating us with the his INCREDIBLE FINDINGS. special shout out to him and special shout out to anyone mentioned/that Jack stole rubbish from<33

Obviously we start off with our first find aka Milly and Riley being sweethearts. It's too mad Milly is ignoring me and my blog. I don't understand why she's so bothered, I mean what did I do??? What could I possibly have done to annoy her? Uh.. not that she hates me. Me and her are bffs.

Our second finding is our girl Jamie Stockholm and her friend Bryan Caldwell, I haven't seen much of them or their dynamic BUTTT I get the feeling there's something between them (wink wink nudge nudge). Also Bryan kinda cute? DONT GET ME WRONG MY HEART BELONGS TO DODGEMS but Bryan's just so idk<33 Maybe it's the long hair? Maybe it's the fact he's so WELL DRESSED?? UGHHH

Our fourth finding is a diary entry, ooh I know🤭

""My life is a living hell. Those two idiots keep going on “dates” behind Sergei’s back and I end up watching over them. I thought Sergei was supposed to be their babysitter, not me. How am I stuck with this job? I have better things to do than chaperone two idiots that won’t admit they like each other. They go out to get ice cream, walk around the park, and have meaningful conversations. RETCH. Absolutely disgusting.""

Obviously it's by our beloved Cain being a sour grape. Now, I had a little one on one with him and tldr, he doesn't want his friends to get together as it'll ruin their dynamic. But, we love him I guess. Personally, if MY bffs liked eachother I would encourage it! Who wouldn't!? Boycott haters smh.

A fifth finding:

""Dear Diary, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. THEY’RE ONTO ME. THEY’RE FUCKING ONTO ME. KILL ME. SOMEONE SHOOT ME.""

Uh. Iont know who... I don't know who's written this one. I've gotten notes it was from Riley? I guess it would make sense but it just seemed so cryptic and actually kinda spooky.

A sixth finding, and the COOLEST one, bc it's a COMPLETE entry!!:

""October 22, 2023. Dear Diary, As I write this, Milly is in the other room throwing darts at something. Maybe a polaroid of that paparazzo. Man…Cain’s going to be furious when he finds out. But, he’s my actual best friend. Not like I could lie to him about it. If I trust him with my life, I can trust him with a little crush. I can’t help but wonder if she likes me back. The question keeps coming back to me. Even Elden Ring wasn’t enough to distract me. I can’t sleep at night. I haven’t been pulling pranks on the castle residents the past few days. R.C.’s been filling in for me so no one figures it out. I wanna confess…I do…it’s just I can’t work up the nerve. And what if I get rejected? What if something horrible happens? “No” is NOT the worst thing she could say. -Riley""

As seen in the final sentence, it's written by Riley and it only solidifies our knowledge of our #1 ship! Not only that but we get insight into how Riley TRULY FEELS without him being completely stupid. Nothings better than snooping in people diary entries<33 why Milly is throwing darts at a polariod of a certain someone who hopefully isn't me I'm not sure but I doubt we'll need to worry about it.

Now, not an offical finding but it's something I should add:

GG: "What are some of the weirdest things that you've found in the trash ?"

Jack: "I found a bloody wooden stake in someone's trash once. Dunno whose it was."

Eh. Hopefully that doesn't come to bite us later. That's today's post! Thanks for reading!

[hecking-person]

Context: I made these OCS in 2017, my friend was interested and since I had a special interest in it, we decided to work together for plot and character details. However some of the stuff that they did kinda peeved me off and 2 years after they've blocked me I now have a list of some things from my ocs stories that they did that well... peeved me off.

-They changed Alex's skin tone in the early days when he was still pale to a darker skin tone (when he was still a murderer) he was also very pale at the time and the only "bad" character at the time (he's the only one who committed crimes) -Changed Nick's personality from a more angry character to a more chill one (while I still use this characterization they didn't ask) -Created Ashton and Craig (not a bad thing just a thing they did) -Whitewashed Ethan even though he had a tan -Whitewashed Alex way after I had given him a tanner skin tone as his current one -Doesn't use the fucking eyedropper tool why is it so hard Kept insisting Craig wasn't a natural blonde even though I said he naturally had dirty blonde hair (I'm going to change it now but it has nothing to do with them, more with Craig being a fraud) -Whitewashed Vance even though he had a (fake) tan, and changed his hair color from a light red to a bright one -Kept giving Alex straight/wavy hair even though I kept insisting he had curly hair -Kept drawing Alex with a round headshape and Shawn with a more narrow one even though I constantly did the opposite (use a fucking reference) -KILLED OFF BRIANNA (a child) IN AN AU WHEN I TOLD THEM THAT'S AWFUL -Shipping 2 characters that were already in relationships (sus eyebrow raise) They made the Nick and Oliver a couple thing and then they shipped Nick and Craig I'm just like bro make up your mind bro cheating is not fun -Gave Gregory and John the ugliest suit colors (yes this counts as a crime to me because I continually used this color palette) -Whitewashed John in early art (luckily they got better at not doing that... for one character...) -Made Melody from a fan girl into a fujoshi (I think she'd love all couples now) -Making a self insert for my ABC characters and not using the guidelines I had put up. (The hairstyles are supposed to look like the letters) -Fucking draws Shawn's hairstyle wrong every time besides a DTIYS like that's proof that they COULD but just didn't feel like it ig -Drew Shawn skinny even though he was supposed to be a plus sized character at the time -Giving Jen the ugliest color shirt when she's supposed to be goth (this isn't really that bad but why ORANGE) -Giving Tyler (a black character) straight hair when I gave him naturally wavy hair (I should naturally give him curls he deserves it) -Thought that they knew more about wet curly hair than me and drew a guide even though I based Alex's hair type off myself and knew it gets longer when wet in comparison to straight hair (what they had) -Kept comparing Craig and one of their OCS saying they looked really similar even though they're the one who created Craig in the first place (gaslit me? Idk) -Kept giving Riley (a character they made for the series) an ugly ass color palette (it's mostly her skin tone was greenish and she had rainbow hair) (also not a crime but I hated it) (she deserved a warmer skin tone that I gave her when I drew her) -Wrote the goriest shit about Craig that I don't feel like rereading for this point (I remember it was pretty descriptive and idk why they even wrote it if I'm that squeamish) -Writing Alex as an apathetic serial killer even though he was never written like that even in the early drafts (he was literally autistic from year one... they're autistic but it's not an excuse) -Shipping Oliver and Nick as a pairing even though Oliver was 18 (now 19) and Nick was 23 (now 21)