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aoioozora · 9 months

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Simon.

Part 1

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au Photo credit: quinci Note: Had 'Meddle About' by Chase Atlantic on repeat as I wrote this in one sitting. My first COD fanfiction. Enjoy!

Their hands squeezed against your arms and wrists. You tried to pull and yank away in resistance to their unwanted advances.

“Hey, c'mon, you're cute! You should come with us.” one of them said in a voice that was meant to sound silky and inviting, but came off as sleazy.

Words failed you, all of them stuck in your throat, a large lump of fear blocking them from escaping your lips, tightening within your neck like a balloon about to burst. The memory of self-defense vanished from your muscles as you pitifully tried to fight off three men who were taller and bigger than you with your pathetic grunts and pleas to be released.

Upon the dark and empty streets, a distant hum of an engine, accompanied by a singular bright light which seemed like a firefly's glow, appeared to he approaching. You took no notice.

The hum of the distant engine grew about as loud as a cat's threatening growl, and the light as that of a strong flashlight. It still didn't catch your notice.

The growl turned into a loud, deafening roar, seemingly at will, vibrating the still air like an earthquake. It caught all of your attention as it drew near at an alarming speed towards the four of you.

The three men shrieked with fright, automatically letting your hands go in the process, and covered their faces with their arms. The growling, glowing thing screeched to a halt inches in front of them, sending the sharp smell of burnt rubber up their noses.

When the four of you looked, there stood a shiny, jet black sports motorcycle, upon which sat a rider. He was helmeted, also dressed in ripped black jeans that hugged his tree trunk-like thighs, a black leather jacket that tightened against his muscular arms and broad shoulders. The flickering white light of the street lamp cast a ghastly, ominous glow over him, making him look like some sort of ghost from an urban legend.

The three men recovered from their shock and opened their mouths to berate this biker for interrupting them, but before they even did, the biker flicked up the dark visor of his helmet and revealed his equally dark, glaring eyes.

“What are you doing with my girlfriend?” asked the biker, enunciating every word, slowly, like he was holding back a dam's amount of rage. His gruff, gravelly, British accented voice was muffled slightly by the balaclava he wore under the helmet, yet every word was heard loud and clear as if they were spoken through a megaphone, and the three men immediately stepped back from you, knowing that messing with another man's girl would have dire consequences.

You didn't know you had a boyfriend. Yet you played along.

“Simon!” You cried as you ran to him, going behind the motorcycle and hiding behind his large body. You decided to name him whatever came to mind first.

He sat up straight on his motorcycle to keep you hidden from them as he balanced on the sleek vehicle which rumbled like a distant thunder between his legs. He glared at the three men. “Well?” he asked with a growl that very well sounded the same as the roar of his vehicle's engine.

They simply backed off without a word, knowing they wouldn't win. The mysterious motorcyclist who you named ‘Simon’, stayed until the three men were out of sight while you still stood behind him, watching them leave.

“You okay?” he finally asked you when the coast was clear, now turning his dark eyes over his shoulder, where you were standing.

You let out an exhale you didn't know you were holding. “I'm fine,” You replied with some effort, massaging your aching wrists.

He paused before replying; he could clearly see that you were rattled by the experience, considering how your eyes still looked apprehensive like that of a hunted rabbit’s. His eyes flickered to your wrists, and he looked back at you. “Did they hurt you?” he asked softly.

“They just held me tight. I mean, my arms.” You exhaled again, the ache in your wrists easing slightly. Words still seemed to fail you, but they now flowed out a little easier.

He seemed slightly taken aback by how nonchalantly you said this, like it was a common thing. “Bastards.” he growled in his very distinct accent, clearly not the posh British accent you knew. “This place isn't safe. What were you loitering around here for?” he asked, now holding the handles of his motorcycle as he leaned back and moved his legs, moving the motorcycle backwards so that it was now back on the street.

You moved away to give him space, and then replied, “A friend of mine lives here. There was a party at her place.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he now leaned forward to cross his arms on the tank of his vehicle. “Do you want to get out of here safely without getting hounded by blokes like those?” he asked.

“Yes!” you answered immediately. Somehow, you felt like you could trust this man somewhat, especially after he saved you and enquired about your wellbeing after that ordeal.

He leaned back slightly and patted the pillion behind him. “Get on. I'll be your taxi tonight.”

You blinked. “Are you sure? I don't want to bother you too much.”

“Look here, lass,” he started, leaning forward again, “I don't know if you know, but besides those cunts, there are muggers here too. And they all wake up at night. If you want to get out of here safely and not be a news report tomorrow, then get on." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, "I'll take you wherever you need to go.”

You were surprised by his straightforwardness, yet it somehow seemed apt for a man with a gruff voice and a fearless attitude. Not another word more, you climbed up on the pillion of his motorcycle with some stumbling, but the man was patient, and leaned his motorcycle to the side to lower it slightly, so you could get on easier. As you were doing this, you couldn't help but notice the musky, earthy smell of his perfume, which reminded you of wet soil, rain, and dark chocolate; a positively divine scent.

“What's your name?” You asked as soon as you were comfortably settled on the seat.

There was a moment's pause before he answered, “Simon,” with an almost careful tone, as if he wanted to see your reaction.

As he expected, your eyes were wide with surprise. It melted away slightly as you thought he was just playing around with you. "Come on, that's the name I called you by earlier. What's your actual name?"

"It's Simon." he insisted.

You blinked yet again. "What a coincidence," You said laughingly, "I could've never imagined getting your name right on accident."

“I confess, you surprised me there.” His voice trailed off at the end, as if he wanted to say something cheesy, but he stopped himself, remembering that you were a stranger and not his friend. He leaned back again, yet again moving his motorcycle backwards.

You instinctively took hold of his shoulder to keep yourself steady as he moved. You tried to ignore it, but you noted how broad and rugged his shoulders were.

“So, where d'you wanna go?” he asked, taking hold of the handles and twisting the accelerator, making the motorcycle growl.

You told him your destination.

“Not too far. Two minutes if I go at 150.” he said, as if 150 kmph was slow for him. But he looked at you over his shoulder, “You okay going fast?”

“I've never gone fast before.”

He figured. "Wanna get a feel of it?"

"Sure, I've not nothing to lose... except my life, if you don't drive safely."

He chuckled, and it sounded oddly cute, unlike his gruff voice. "Just trust me, lass. I'm not gonna turn you into a news report."

"Well, you saved my life just there, I expect you to preserve it." You said with a chuckle. It felt strange that you already seemed comfortable enough with him to joke around.

"Nothing to worry about," he assured as he turned forward and revved the engines again. “You'll fly off, so hold on to me tight.” He said with emphasis.

“Gotcha.”

He got the wheels running, and started slow. The breeze kissed your face and your hair, and in the cool night, it felt freeing. He twisted the accelerator, going a notch faster. The breeze blew against you like a blow dryer, and you squinted your eyes slightly in order to see the quickly passing landscape of buildings, 24 hour convenience stores, and lighted street lamps.

He gradually increased the speed so you would not freak out, an oddly considerate thing he did for a complete stranger, something he would not usually ever do.

As the dial of the speedometer passed the 80s and crossed to the 100s, the breeze, now a gust, started to mercilessly slap your face, not allowing you to open your watering eyes. By this time, you had your arms around his waist and your face stuffed in and hidden behind his large back, holding on to him for dear life, while the smell of his perfume consoled your fears.

He rode on, completely unfazed by this speed, but a little stiff at the fact that a person, a woman, particularly, was holding on to him. It was out of necessity, of course, yet he couldn't help but feel a little strange about it.

As predicted, in two minutes, he reached your destination, which was thankfully a busy area with people still bustling around the open shops like it was daytime. He halted to a stop where you asked, and you took hold of his shoulder again as you mounted off the high pillion seat.

“Thanks a lot, Simon,” You smiled at him. You took notice of the logo on his helmet that carried the Italian flag in a semi-circle; it seemed to stand out over the glossy black shell of the headgear.

He pushed up his dark visor, and the flag was obscured. He nodded in response as his eyes studied your face, taking in the contours of your features all in a brief moment. "How did the speed feel?" he asked.

"Exhilarating," You replied, feeling your heart thumping wildly.

"In a good way?"

"I guess. It was kind of scary, but I liked it."

He nodded, and in his eyes, you could see that he looked a little pleased by your answer.

“I know it's not much but…” You paused, putting your hand in the pocket of your jacket, causing the contents to ruffle against each other. You pulled out a small, hard red candy wrapped in clear plastic and handed it to him. “... This is a little something for you for helping me out.”

He stared at the little candy on the palm of your hand, almost ready to refuse it out of modesty. But it was just a little candy. Who could it hurt? His fair hand reached out and took the candy, and both of you noted how tiny the sweet treat looked on his palm. He could crush it with his bare hands if he wanted to. Yet, he held it gently and stashed it in the pocket of his leather jacket, murmuring a word of gratitude that was barely audible under the two layers of his balaclava and his helmet.

“Well, you take care. And don't hang around in sketchy places like that next time,” he said, as if you were his friend of many years.

You were warmed by his concern for you, and you smiled, nodding. “After that, I don't think I'll hang around there at this time anymore. I'm sure as hell gonna stay over at my friend's place if I'm there till late.”

“Excellent choice,” he remarked. “I'll be off now.”

“Take care.” You smiled at him again, and his eye lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head away.

He silently revved the engine of his vehicle again and sped off. You stood by the side of the road, watching his figure recede as the distance grew.

A sense of longing washed over you for this stranger named Simon, and you wondered if you would ever see him again. It was a strange coincidence that you unknowingly guessed his name so correctly, like unknowingly marking the right choice in a multiple choice exam.

It all came back to you now. The feeling of his rugged shoulder and back under the smooth leather of his jacket; the coarse, gravelly growl of his British accented voice that felt like rubbing coffee powder between your fingers, rough yet pleasing; the scent of his perfume like that of a dark, wet, rainforest; and his eyes… oh, his dark eyes were brooding and mysterious. Under the shade of his helmet, they seemed like swirling little black holes, the gravity around them dense enough to draw you in like a helpless star.

A shiver passed down your spine as you thought of him, making your cheeks flush with warmth as a distant look reflected in your pining eyes.

You started your walk back home, thoughts filled to the brim, flooding like a tidal wave with this biker. You were left knowing nothing about him, except for his name:

Simon.

End.

Part 2

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aoioozora · 2 months

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Platonically sharing a bed with the Ghosts

One-bed scenario hcs with the Ghosts, and you get to see their sleeping habits. Enjoy!

Logan Walker:

A little awkward about sharing the bed, but not against it.

Even though he's shared beds with Hesh when he was younger, he hasn't done it in a long time. And with someone of the opposite sex? It's a little awkward.

But he's not awkward in his sleep. He'd probably sleep in a starfish position, accidentally kick your back or put his leg on top of you

And maybe if he's having a nightmare, he might cuddle you for some comfort.

David 'Hesh' Walker:

Also awkward about sharing the bed but tries to hide it and plays it cool, telling himself, "it's just gonna be one night."

But he cannot keep his cool once you hit the bed next to him.

He loves cuddling but since both of you are just coworkers, he's fighting the urge so hard because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. He ends up not getting a wink of sleep for a couple hours

But when he does sleep, he sleeps like he's a dead body in a coffin, fingers intertwined and all, straight and tall like a soldier.

Sleeptalks sometimes, but it's just incoherent mumbling.

Elias 'Scarecrow' Walker:

He gets in bed, says "good night" and proceeds to not acknowledge you unless necessary. He is visibly embarrassed and annoyed by this arrangement, but doesn't complain about it.

He sleeps in a rather loose fetal position, tosses and turns around a lot and it keeps you awake for a while until he finally stops and falls into a deep sleep.

Tends to wedge his hand in between his knees when asleep.

Although he can sleep anywhere, he prefers a completely dark room with minimal light

If there's too much light, on goes the eye mask.

Thomas Merrick:

It's written all over his face. He's AWKWARD. But he doesn't say anything so as to not make you uncomfortable. And you don't say anything to him either.

He even offers to sleep on the floor to escape this ordeal, but you refuse and have him sleep on the bed, since it was big enough for two and you didn't want him to be uncomfortable.

He obliges and gets in bed, but makes sure he keeps plenty of space between you and him (he's at the risk of falling off the bed)

And when you tell him to chill out, he grumbles, "I'm... chill." The hip and groovy slang doesn't roll out of his Millennial tongue very well.

He eventually falls asleep facing away from you, hogging the blanket and burying himself in it like he is a worm in a chrysalis.

Big, strong guy sometimes feels like he needs some protection from the world too.

Keegan Russ:

His face is blank. He does feel awkward about it but neither his face, his voice, nor his body language betray any of what he feels.

He sets up a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed. "Neither of us are crossing this line, alright?" he says, and you nod, not planning on doing so anyway.

Both of you go to sleep. He sleeps in a tight fetal position and hugs the pillow he's sleeping on.

Another position he sleeps in is on his stomach with his knee hoisted up. He won't care if it's bad for the spine, it's comfy.

Give him a few hours and he's already disregarded his own rule, and has pushed away the pillow wall to simply press his head against your back, just to feel a little less lonely.

Kick:

Not awkward AT ALL. He actually digs this arrangement but is trying not to show it. But the amused smirk on his face blows his cover.

He sleeps very comfortably and if he's close enough friends with you and ensures you don't mind his touch, he would actually shamelessly cuddle you.

And you find his cuddling comfortable.

Sometimes sleeps like a Victorian child dying of a disease, having his hand on his head and all that

By the time it's morning, he's on the floor

Alex 'Ajax' Johnson:

Ajax genuinely doesn't care. Only one bed? He'll just shrug and go along with it. He's done this countless times.

In a way, him not caring makes you feel a little less awkward about it.

He keeps his distance from you and doesn't trouble you at all

He's an absolute madman to sleep without a blanket, and it's not just because he's used to it. It's a preference. He doesn't feel very cold.

Light sleeper. But he snores a bit.

Not a cuddler, but he wouldn't mind if you cuddled with him to keep warm.

Riley:

No awkwardness, no shame, only a little baby happy to sleep on the bed with you.

BED HOGGER!

Normally a light sleeper since he's a dog, but in complete safety, he sleeps like the dead, deep enough to dream

On hot days, he likes to lean against the headrest and sleep on his back to support his legs.

On cold days, he sleeps in a doughnut formation with his nose tucked under his tail.

He's a warm boy, loves to cuddle. Even when he needs his space, he'll make sure he keeps either his tail or his paw touching you.

He's an early riser and to wake you up, he'll either lick, paw, or nudge your face with his cold nose.

BONUS - Gabriel Rorke:

Like Ajax, he doesn't care. Once he hits the bed, he's conked out.

He has one of his legs hanging out of the bed, a nightmarish thing for a kid who might see this. You tell him jokingly, "The monster under the bed will grab your leg and drag you underneath." And he just says, "I am the monster under the bed," to assert dominance to the imaginary beasts.

Light sleeper, and sleeps on his back, arms crossed like he has a meeting to attend in 30 minutes.

He sometimes has his eyes half-open, which is kinda freaky

And being a light sleeper, you don't know whether he's asleep or awake and trolling you.

Read this next! Romantically sharing a bed

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aoioozora · 3 months

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Still thinking about Simon being so cat-like...

He loves being the little spoon! If he sees you napping on the bed, you can be sure he'll make his way over, crawl into the bed, and nudge your arms with his head and slip under them until your arms are loosely around his neck like a clingy little kitty wanting cuddles. The movement stirs you out of sleep, but you don't complain since it's your darling, and you just cozy up with him, pressing your chest against his back, wrapping your leg around his hip, and tightening your arms around his neck just slightly.

He presses back, wriggling just slightly to make himself comfortable as he pulls the duvet over both of you, making a warm toasty sandwich of you and him. You stuff your face in his hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that he obviously stole a pump or two out of. But you don't mind it for now. You absentmindedly rub your thumb against his cheek and whiskers as you try to fall asleep, and there's that soft little contented purr you love to hear.

[masterlist]

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aoioozora · 29 days

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Romantically sharing a bed with the Ghosts

I wrote a platonic version, and so, why not a romantic version? Enjoy the fluff ;))

Logan Walker:

Once the two of you are alone and it's only one bed, you can bet he'll drop all his stuff and tackle you into the bed

He's tired, but has enough energy to tackle you

"Hey!" you exclaim, giggling, and he just stuffs his face in your chest, happily hugging you

Holds you like a koala and doesn't let go

He doesn't let you change into comfortable clothes, and neither does he change; he's already asleep

You just smile and run your hand through his hair before falling asleep yourself.

David 'Hesh' Walker:

Gets in bed first and opens his arms to you

"Come here." He doesn't have to say it twice. You're already crawling in bed and laying your head on his chest

He puts his arms around you and gives you a squeeze.

As you fall asleep, you can hear him softly singing a song and rubbing his thumb on your cheek

He is warm and cozy like a hot chocolate on a cold wintry day, you feel so safe with him

He gives you a kiss on your forehead <3

Thomas Merrick:

He's used to sleeping alone, and so sharing a bed with you is always a pleasure

He sees you laying on the bed, and he carefully gets in.

"Hey Tommy," you giggle when you see him and you open your arms out for him to come closer. He rolls his eyes. "Don't call me that," he says, but moves closer to you.

He wraps his burly arm around you and pulls you close, careful not to put his weight on top of you and accidentally crush you in the process

He rubs your back and your hair to lull you to sleep.

You gratefully give him a peck on his lips and you hear him shyly grumble

Keegan Russ:

"Why are you so far away? Come closer," he demands. Clingy man. He doesn't like being even 2 meters away from you.

If you don't close the gap, he will.

He'll spoon you and bury his face in your neck, giving it a couple kisses before falling asleep in your hair.

At some point at night, he will put his leg over your hip

You gotta be careful not to let him crush you under his weight

Kick:

Normally a bit frisky but when he's dead tired, he's just adorable

"Sleeeepy," he whines and then proceeds to get tangled up in bed with you

Has you in a vice grip like he's a cobra around a mouse and you have to beg him to loosen up so you can breathe

Holds you like you're a body pillow

Will drool over you so be careful lol

Alex 'Ajax' Johnson:

He has you sleeping on top of him, wanting you to use him as your personal bed

He loves having your weight on top of him

He gets to hug you like you're his teddy bear

If he does need to switch positions after some time, he'll make sure to move you very gently so as to not wake you up

When he sees you fall asleep, he has to fight off his cuteness aggression and his urge to punch a wall to feel manly again because of how cute you look asleep

Elias 'Scarecrow' Walker:

Elias likes to have his face in your chest (Logan has to get it from somewhere), arms around your waist, and your legs around his hips.

Halfway through the night, he'll make sure it's your turn to lay on his chest.

Loves to rub your back, your shoulders, run his fingers through your hair-- just loves giving you gentle massages. It's soothing to you and to him.

You can be sure you'll find his hand under your shirt, rubbing your bare back and your waist. He likes some skin-to-skin.

He's your personal whisper ASMRtist. Expect sweet nothings and him grumbling a quiet "good girl"

BONUS - Gabriel Rorke:

Cannot keep his hands off you once you two are in bed.

He'll pull you to his chest and have his arm around you, rubbing your arm and your shoulder

If you can't sleep, he'll begin to talk to you in excruciating detail about some science or military related topic until it bored you to sleep

He's a chill cuddler, not too clingy, but just enough to let you know he loves and wants physical closeness with you

When you're asleep, he'll gaze at you admiringly like you're a work of art and then give you a tender kiss, either on your forehead or your cheek

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aoioozora · 3 months

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Soap: [spraying cologne on himself] Ghost: Scented Soap Soap:

#has this been done before?#call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #call of duty incorrect quotes #cod incorrect quotes #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #aoioozora writes

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aoioozora · 4 months

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Imagine going horse-riding with Keegan on your dad's extensive farmland.

The sun is setting and all work is done and the two of you decide to just trot around the fields together and chat. You helped your dad manage the ranch and the farm and naturally, the men and women who were employed too. Out of them all, Keegan was your particular favourite. Quiet, unobtrusive, and hardworking, both of you gelled well together and he didn't take long to win your good favour and become your closest friend.

He really liked you too-- adored you for your good qualities. Being ranch manager, you were responsible, firm, strong; you called the shots, settled disputes, and did your best to keep peace between everyone. And you were stunning too; a goddess among men, and he secretly admired you.

And as you both ride down the pastures, he can't help but steal a couple glances at how the golden sunset makes your sweat damp skin glow, how it shines against your hair, and how it brightens up your eyes. How you even looked in his direction to begin with was a mystery.

"What're you looking at, Russ?"

Keegan blinks out of his daze to find you grinning at him.

"At you," he answers.

"Why?"

"Just thinking about how shriveled up you look... Like hay," he says dryly as he turns away to look over the mare's head.

"Hay!" you exclaimed.

Both of you burst into wild laughter, and it echoes in the pastures and the hills.

"Ugh, my throat's sore," Keegan complains, clearing his throat loudly after the two of you calm down.

"I know a spot where we can stop for a drink," you tell him.

"Lead the way, little miss."

As you guide your horse to another direction, you smile to yourself. Little miss. That's what he always called you, both teasingly and respectfully, seeing that on a corporation level, you were a higher-up, though younger than him. He was possibly the only one man on the ranch who respected your authority while most of the other men didn't like having a woman tell them what to do.

You lead him through a small, beaten trail through the trees and then climb down some rocks until the gurgle of water is heard. A few seconds trot brings the two of you to a rivulet and Keegan whistles softly.

"How come I don't know this place?" he asks, mock offended as he guides his mare towards the little waterbody, "I thought you told me everything."

You follow behind him. "Now I told you about it," You smile cheekily, "Besides, a secret spot is a secret for a reason."

He gets off the mare and lets her take a drink of the water. "So you come here and do what? Cry about how you can't do taxes?" he teases, moving towards the bank to get on his knees.

You roll your eyes as you get off your horse. "I can do my taxes just fine, thank you very much," you frown, watching him cup the clear, cold water in his hands and drink it greedily, "I come here to relax and unwind." You also get on your knees and bend over the surface of the water, cupping the water into your mouth.

He is thoughtful for a moment as he stands up and wipes his hands on a handkerchief. "How often do you come here?" he asks.

"Couple times a week. Being ranch manager is stressful, you know."

He knows. Having to lead and manage a bunch of cowboys who didn't accept the authority of a woman was a difficult task. He'd seen you lose your patience with them several times, and even vent your frustrations to him in tears. He'd see you disappear for a few hours, not knowing where you went, and now as he takes a look around at the boulders and trees shading the rivulet above, he assumes that this was your little cove, your safe haven.

"This is why my little miss should sit still and look pretty and let the men do all the dirty work." He takes off his boots and rolls up the hem of his jeans up to his knees.

That didn't make you feel any better and you frown, though you steal a glance at his calves. "I can't. I'm the only one my dad has to depend on. And now that he's getting old, eventually I'll have to take over. God forbid, if he becomes sick or even dies, the responsibility of an entire ranch will fall on my shoulders. And I can't do it properly if all those fuckers don't listen to me."

As he wades through the shallow waters and shivers from the cold, he listens to you in silence. He then answers, "Your dad should employ or promote a good guy to be assistant manager, because I don't see those guys changing their minds about you anytime soon."

You sigh, slapping the surface of the water, sending a splash flying sideways. "Dad says that the man I marry will be the assistant manager alongside me," You say, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows raise with intrigue and he barks a laugh. "What is this ranch, a kingdom?"

You shrug, shaking your head.

"You're tough as nails though," he murmurs, walking back and forth in the stream, splashing water around with his feet, "Any other woman would call it quits."

"Because I have no choice," You add.

He is silent for a few moments as he stares at the little fish swimming past his feet. You turn your attention to the horses who are now peacefully grazing on the sweet patch of grass behind you.

"Hey, c'mere," he calls after a few moments.

You turn back around and find him bent over a spot in the stream with his legs splayed apart and his hands clasped under the water. He flicks his head towards his hands. "Look, I caught something."

You take off your boots and fold up your jeans so that you can join him in the water. You stand in front of him, bent over his clasped hands, wondering if he caught a tadpole. "Let's see it."

His hands emerge from the surface slightly. Before you know it, a small jet of cold water hits you in the face. Your eyes snap shut and you jerk backwards, letting out a surprised squeak. The next thing you hear is the cowboy's uncontrollable laughter.

"Keegan!" you screech, annoyed by the little prank, but he almost doubles over, wheezing and laughing.

You quickly wipe the water off your face and kick some water his way, drenching his jeans. He only laughs harder, to the point that it echoes in the cove. Even the horses are looking strangely at him.

"Didn't that make you feel better though?" he exclaims, wiping a tear from his eye as he takes off his hat and tosses it towards the banks, "Don't you feel more grounded and refreshed?"

You are distracted by him running his wet hand through his short black waves, pushing them back against his head and making them glisten. "Uh... Yeah, it did," you clear your throat, "But that doesn't mean I'll let you off so easily!"

You kick some more water his way, making him retaliate. His laughter fills the air and before you know it, your annoyance is replaced with glee as the two of you frolic and play in the water like children.

All the laughing leaves your throats sore and dry again, so you stop to drink water again. As the two of you crouch down to drink, you can't help but notice how a couple locks of his hair sticks to the side of his face, and how the beads of water slide down his cheekbone to his sharp, stubbly jaw and slowly trail southwards, sinking into the nooks and crannies of his neck.

He's a rugged American cowboy alright.

You purse your lips, almost wanting to lick the water off his skin.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Your eyes snap back from his neck to his face, and you find a smirk plastered on it. You narrow your eyes as him. "At you."

"Why?"

"Just thinking about how you're such a jackass."

He clutches his chest, mock offended, but his bright blue eyes seem to twinkle mischievously. "Ouch. Is this how I'm repaid for trying to make you feel better?"

You shove his shoulder. "Okay fine, thank you for making me feel better," You say sarcastically.

He bumps your shoulder with his. "Try again. That wasn't good enough."

You bump his shoulder back harder. "Thank you for making me feel better," You repeat, rolling your eyes and smiling.

"Drop the attitude, lil' missy," his voice lowers as he bumps you right back, making you stumble a little.

"I'd rather sooner drop you down rather than drop the attitude." You straighten yourself up, challenging him with a lopsided smirk.

He scoffs, also standing up. "Oh yeah? Try me."

"Look over there!" you exclaim with wide eyes, pointing behind him.

He quickly turns around. You instantly tackle him to the ground, pushing all your weight against him. With a yowl, he falls back into the stream on his hind quarters with you on top of him.

"You fuckin' animal!" he shouted, but there's a smile on his face.

"You fell for the oldest trick in the book. Bless your precious heart," You tease, laughing out loud as you remain right on top of his chest, not making any effort to move.

He notices that you don't move, and takes full advantage of it. With one fell swoop, he takes hold of your arm and your waist, easily manoeuvres you under him onto the bed of the stream, and presses his entire weight against yours to trap you. You gasp in surprise as you feel the chill of the water from below and the warmth of his body above.

All your words die in your throat as you're face to face with him. You feel his minty breath fan against your lips. A drop of water trickles down a wet lock of his hair on his forehead, dragging down against the bridge of his nose, and hanging right at the tip. The drop falls on your cheek.

You meet his eyes and they hold yours fast. Even in the dimming light, his bright blue eyes are searching you hungrily, looking for any trace of disapproval or resistance from you. You feel a bloom of warmth in your stomach and in your cheeks. All retorts die in your throat, and you feel like a little rabbit in front of a wolf.

He exhales slowly. His eyelids close for a moment and he then leans in close to your ear, whispering in a rumble,

"Don't squat with your spurs on, darling."

A positively divine shiver courses through you from his ticklish breath against your sensitive ear, making your chest heave against his. He smirks when he sees your hairs on your neck stand on the ends. You're liking what he's doing.

"Cat got your tongue, little miss?" he chuckles at your silence, "Or cat got your attitude?"

You blush, frowning at him. "Shuddup..." you mumble weakly, feeling like you were going to lose your mind from how utterly delightful it is to have him chest-to-chest, hips-to-hips, and legs tangled together.

"Ah, it's a case of cat got your tongue. In my extensive years of medical practice, I've seen this condition very often," he says in a sarcastic, matter-of-fact voice, "The cure is simple and will loosen your tongue out just fine."

"What cure?" you demand.

"Allow me."

He cups your face in his hand and leans in. The next thing you feel are a pair of soft lips pressed against yours, and your eyes flutter close upon contact. Even in the biting chill of the flowing water, your entire body flushes with warmth like it's been drenched in gasoline and set on fire. Your hands find their way across his shoulders and your arms coil around his neck, pulling him in deeper. He lets your face go and slides his hand behind your neck at the base of your head, holding you steady. His rough fingers rub against the sensitive skin, turning your stomach into a circus.

"Open up," he commands in a hushed, breathy whisper as he pulls away just slightly enough to lightly swipe the tip of his tongue against your lower lip.

As he kisses you again, you open your mouth. He slips his tongue in and finds yours, twisting and tangling like mating millipedes. You let out a soft whimper at this tingly, delightful feeling of such an intimate kiss and clutch tightly at his hair and dig your fingers into his shoulder. His skin bristles, shivering under your touch, and he increases the pressure of his lips against yours.

Your body feels both numb and electrified at the same time, your blood watery and coagulated, your mind alert and unguarded. The intensity is so dizzying, so pleasurable that it feels like you took some hard drugs and began to ascend.

"Good girl," he rumbles in between, retracting his tongue to go back to kissing you slowly and gently.

Oh, he struck your Achilles heel.

You melt against him in complete submission.

After what felt like only five seconds of utter pleasure, he pulls away to let both of you catch your breaths. He takes a good look at you and then chuckles, almost victoriously. He got the bossy, wild, bucking horse of a little miss to submit to him for once. Your heavy breaths, your flushed face, and your doe eyes looking back at him; he reveled in this victory.

"Tongue loose, lil' miss?" he asks breathily.

"Oh, fuck off..." you grumbled, feeling your cheeks burn.

He chuckles and gets off of you, allowing himself to sit down in the water next to you. As soon as he's off you, you breathe in deeply, not realising how short of breath you were with his entire weight on you.

Both of you are silent for a few minutes, staring upwards at the star spangled heavens through the dark silhouettes of the trees shading the cove as your heavy breaths accentuate the silence of the darkening night. A breeze whistles past you, making both of you shiver.

"We really should-" he sneezes loudly, "Fuck, it's cold. We really should be heading back." He sniffles as he stands up, "Can't go worrying the boss now, can we? C'mon now, get up." He holds out his hand to you.

You reluctantly take his hand and get on your feet. Both of you wade out of the water and then wring out whatever water you can out of your clothes without taking them off. That being done, both of you took the reins of your horses and your boots in your hands and began the long trudge back to the house, sneezing and shivering.

"Russ?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I should ask my dad to promote you to assistant manager."

His eyes widen for a split second before he cracks a wide grin. "I think I'd like that very much."

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aoioozora · 2 months

Text

Price: What's the matter, Simon? Ghost: [takes off Price's surname patch] Price: What are you- Ghost: I got your Price tag, and now you're Priceless John: John: Come back here!

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aoioozora · 5 months

Text

I know next to nothing about Nikto except for his name but this angsty thing came to mind and I want y'all to hear me out and imagine this for me yeah

Mate isn't much of a talker, not very emotionally expressive; he's cold and a little rough around the edges, quite misunderstood, even by you

But you're on a mission with him and you're heavily injured to the point of death

He tries all he can to save you but seeing that your life is quickly fading away, he carries you to a safe place where both of you can he hidden from the gunfire for a while

And he pulls you close to himself, almost cradling you in his arms. For the first time you see him on the verge of tears behind his mask as he holds you

He knows your time is up and he can tell you're afraid of the oblivion that will soon follow, so to comfort you, he leans down to your ear and begins to softly sing to you an ancient Soviet melody of a homesick soldier... An ode to how he would feel without you, a feeling he wished he expressed sooner

But it's too late

As you heave your last breaths and your eyes slowly dim, his masked face is the last thing you see, his soothing voice the last thing you hear and, his love for you is the last thing you feel, and suddenly, you're not afraid anymore, as if that was all the assurance you need as you fall asleep

Everything fades to black as your body becomes limp in his arms

And he's left all alone.

#call of duty #aoioozora writes #call of duty nikto #cod nikto #nikto x reader #nikto #mwii nikto #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #cod drabble #call of duty fanfic #nikto x you #cod angst #call of duty angst #angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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aoioozora · 7 months

Text

Simon.

Part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Enjoy Simon being a gentleman in this part 😉. I can't find a nice pic to post here so maybe I'll skip that. Anyway, just wanted to let y'all know that in this fic, reader is 25 years old and Simon is 28.

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub, leave her Johnny, leave- oi, ye cannae be serious. Take off that mask!”

Johnny's singing was interrupted by Simon, who was just entering his living room, dressed and ready to leave to meet ____. He looked at the agitated Johnny, who was now sitting up straight on the couch.

“What d'you mean?” Simon asked, pretending not to have understood or heard his friend.

“The maaask. Take it off,” Johnny ordered, gesticulating wildly, “Why'd ye want tae wear it if ye showed yer face to her already?”

Simon rolled his eyes, now taking off the mask, making Johnny smile. He settled back on the couch comfortably. “That's more like it. Oh, also… Catch.” Johnny stuffed his hand in his pocket and threw something at Simon, which he caught.

It was a condom.

“Johnny! I don't fucking need this!” Simon roared, throwing back the contraceptive, which hit his friend in the face and fell on his lap.

“Ye don't? So yer gonna rrrrrawdog her then, are ye, ye animal?” Johnny smirked, clearly trying to annoy Simon, especially by rolling his r's more than usual.

“Johnny…” Simon's voice lowered to a threatening growl.

The room thundered with Johnny's laughter; having known Simon too long, he wasn't threatened by him, but he relented regardless, not wanting him to be in a bad mood before meeting his crush. “Okay, okay, if ye have nae use for a condom, I have something better for ye.” He beckoned his friend to sit with him on the couch.

“This better be good.” Simon narrowed his eyes, noting a mischievous glint in his best friend's eyes as he sat down.

“She's an author, yeah? Those book lassies will love this. I'll tell ye.”

In the meantime, Simon's crush found herself in front of her mirror getting dolled up by her best friend, Lindsey, who turned the bathroom into a university lecture hall.

“Tell you what, babe,” said she as she very lightly brushed some blush on her friend's cheeks, “Boys will never make the first move, yeah? So you have to openly flirt with them, right? You literally have to hold up a sign at them telling them you're interested.”

____ tried to chuckle, but Lindsey lightly slapped her shoulder. “Don't move yet,” she ordered, throwing her long, curly red hair over her shoulder.

Lindsey finished up the simple, natural looking makeup look and spritzed some setting spray on her friend's face. ____ still didn't dare move, because Lindsey was checking for any mistakes, scanning with her big green eyes. A bit of an odd thing to do, especially after putting the setting spray.

“Lovely!” she exclaimed, slamming down the can of setting spray on the bathroom counter, “Now you can move.”

While ____ admired herself and Lindsey's makeup skills in the mirror, Lindsey watched, her smile slowly disappearing; her shoulders slumped slightly as she moved behind her friend, giving her a worried look in the mirror.

“What's wrong, Linny?” she asked, noticing the look.

“This Simon guy… Is he really good?” Lindsey whispered, lightly squeezing the other's shoulders while glancing at the phone on the bathroom counter. “He's not like the other guy, right?”

____’s brows furrowed slightly. She placed her hand over Lindsey's and squeezed it. “Don't worry, Simon's nice, and we're actually a lot closer in age, if that's what worries you.”

Lindsey was relieved about the smaller age gap, but didn't look completely convinced. She said, “He's nice so far. You do know that a crush is a lack of information, right?”

The only infuriating thing about Lindsey was how she could get a little too realistic.

____ sighed. “Linny, that's the whole reason why I'm going to hang out with him: to find out if he's better than nice.”

Lindsey huffed, but nodded anyway. “Okay, but if anything happens, you know who to call.”

“You worry too much.”

“Because you're literally so hopeless when it comes to men.” Lindsey let out a chuckle as she lovingly wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and gave her a back hug. ____ leaned into it, grateful for the concern of her ever worrying friend.

It was soon time to leave. The two ladies headed downstairs to the entrance of the building, where ____ was to wait for Simon to pick her up. Since Lindsey had other plans, she couldn't wait with her friend, and had to go.

And so did ____ wait by herself, watching the cars go by on the glistening, wet streets. The night air was cold from an earlier rain, and the jacket in her hands seemed to be calling her to wear it and feel warm.

“I hope he won't find it weird if I wear his jacket,” she thought as she put the garment on after much mental debate. The warmth immediately silenced her thoughts, and she just decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

Before long, Simon pulled up to the entrance, but the pillion was occupied by an unfamiliar man with a cheeky smile and a short, dark brown mohawk. As he got off, he whispered something to Simon and then turned around. The man grinned at the waiting lady and then walked off. She, confused, returned the gesture with a little smile of her own and then walked up to Simon.

“Who was that?” she asked as soon as she was near the motorcycle.

“Don't mind him. He's my friend, Johnny. I had to drop him off around here since he had some stuff to do, so…” he shrugged. “Were you waiting long?”

She smiled. “Not at all. I came out just five minutes ago.”

“Brilliant,” he said with a nod and then took notice of her outfit. “You're wearing my jacket,” he observed, sounding amused.

She noticed his cheeks going up from behind his mask; a smile. “Uh, yeah,” she answered, blushing a little, “I'm sorry, I felt a little cold so I put it on.”

“No worries.” His voice mellowed as he stared at her, taking in the sight of her in his jacket, “Keep it on. You look good in it.”

“Thanks,” she grinned, now taking hold of his shoulder as she got up on the pillion.

Johnny was in the distance, watching the two with wide smiles. He even managed to secretly snap a few photos of them as they talked so that he could tease Simon with it later.

“Hey you! Delete that picture right now!” a high pitched voice ordered behind Johnny, making him flinch in surprise.

He immediately turned around, but saw nobody. But when he looked down, he saw a little lady in front of him, arms crossed and staring at him with furrowed brows.

Johnny, for a moment, was taken in by her beauty. Her pale face was dotted with red freckles, more intense on her cheeks, and her hair was a deep red like the color of the setting sun, loosely coiled like curled satin ribbons. Her flashing eyes were a light green, the color of grass reflecting evening sunlight.

It took a moment for him to regain himself, and when he did, he cleared his throat, saying, “Lassie, that's my friend there,” he answered, pointing to Simon, “I'm gonna tease him with this photo. I'm no’ gonna delete it.”

“And that girl with him is my friend,” she declared, “And I don't really trust that guy she's going out with today.”

Johnny wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but his eyebrows rose with intrigue anyway.

“Small world,” he remarked and then put forward a proposal with a wide grin, “Tell ye wit, wee lassie, we can dae something together. Let's both stalk them. Ye get to see my lad Simon in a good light, and I get to take some candids of them, yeah? Wit dae ye think?” He opened both his hands out to her and batted his eyelids, hoping she would accept.

“No!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms, “It's not good to stalk.”

Johnny groaned. “But dinnae ye want tae see if Simon is good for yer best friend? This is a win-win situation! I can show ye all his good points!”

“You're only saying that because you're his friend,” she challenged.

“No, no, listen here lassie,” he waved his hand, now meeting her eye, “I've known Simon since we were wee lads. I know everything about him, and I can assure ye that he's good. Let him have a chance, won't ye?”

The little lady paused. Was she going to trust him? While she wanted her friend to be happy, she didn't want to sabotage her friend's chances with her crush because of her incessant worrying.

Johnny could see her mental debate and smirked at how funny her thoughtful face looked; it was a sneer with furrowed brows, while her fingers tapped over her crossed arms. She eventually relented.

“Perfect! Now we go stalk them.” He held out his hand to her. “By the way, I'm John, or Johnny.”

She cautiously took his hand and shook it, answering, “Lindsey.”

Simon and ____ already reached the restaurant they decided to have dinner in. He led her to a quieter part of the establishment where they could chat in peace, and just as she was about to pull out her chair to sit, he held out his hand to stop her.

“Allow me,” he smiled and pulled out the chair for her.

Her face glowed with joy and excitement at this display of chivalry as she sat down. Her reaction made him smirk to himself, mentally thanking Johnny for this important tip.

“You're such a gentleman,” she praised, smiling widely as she watched him take his seat opposite to her, “I know we're in the age of the strong, independent woman, but wow, it's actually really nice to be treated like this.”

Her blushes were encouragement enough, and he smiled.

“Thank you, I try,” he bragged. “Do you normally like this sort of thing? Or do you like it from me?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

She laughed, not yet willing to admit that she liked it especially from him. She answered, “I like it generally. It’s just nice to know that someone is thoughtful enough to do a gesture like that, you know? Even though it was the standard back in the day.”

Simon took mental note of that.

Any further conversation was interrupted when a waiter brought them two menus and glasses of water. While the two pored over the laminated card to decide what to get, the lady was momentarily distracted by the sight of the man in front of her.

He wore a black button up shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up his thick forearm, the rest of it tightening around his flexed biceps; the unbuttoned collar displayed his neck and a metal chain underneath, which made her wonder what was dangling at the end of it. He wore blue chinos, and black sneakers. It was the best casual outfit he could put together with Johnny's help.

The outfit, in addition to his handsome, unobscured face was a treat to sore eyes. She couldn't help but allow her eye to linger on the curious scar on his cheek, and to wonder about the cause of it.

Simon noticed her gaze and he met her eyes with a cheeky smile. “You're staring,” he told her.

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sheepish smirk. “I was just thinking your outfit looks really nice.”

“Thank you, I try,” he echoed his earlier line with a smirk and a proud shrug, but really, he would've been hopeless without Johnny giving him such meticulous advice on the basic rules of dressing well. “You look nice too,” he decided to turn the tables on her, “Especially wearing that.” He pointed at his jacket that she was still wearing.

She blushed at that. “I can't take it off. It's nice and toasty in here.”

“I don't mind you wearing it for the rest of the evening, so long as you give it back later. It's my favourite.”

She grinned. “I'll take good care of it.”

The waiter came by again, and the two placed an order for a 12 inch pizza to share and some drinks.

Small talk was made, until it led to the topic of her novel.

“I only just finished reading Firefly Trails a couple days ago and I must say that you're a brilliant author,” Simon praised, “I could not have expected a plot twist when Adelheid was betrayed by Elystran just to get a hold of the magical fireflies.”

The lady snorted proudly and jokingly patted herself on the back. “You can count on me to make a good plot twist.”

“No, but seriously. I really didn't see it coming,” Simon leaned forward slightly with eagerness twinkling in his dark eyes, “You see a friend betraying someone all the time in the media, yeah? But this one was so unexpected, especially when Elystran stole the bottle of captive fireflies from Adelheid. It's really awful how he had no remorse in potentially letting her die without a cure for her disease, just so he could save the kingdom he was going to rule. He was a very convincing actor.”

She found herself gazing at him as he went on with his long winded speech about Elystran, the anti-hero of her novel, who pretended to be Adelheid's close ally. It was heartwarming to her to see his enthusiasm for her work, but she also wondered if he resonated with Elystran in some way.

Simon's pale face was a little pink with exertion after the speech and he finally sat back, tugging at his collar and flapping his shirt. “A bit hot in here, innit?” he asked.

“The air con is working just fine. I think it's because of your passionate speech that you're feeling so hot,” she said with a grin.

Simon's pink face turned a hint more pink at the observation. He was usually reserved with people he knew a little less, but he hadn't realised how passionate and talkative he had gotten about a fictional character. He could attest this to the fact that she wrote so well as to stir his normally taciturn feelings. Art never stirred his soul, but if hers did, he was damned.

He nodded, admitting, “Well, it was because you write so well. Anyone who doesn't talk so passionately about it is missing a few bolts.”

The high regard in the compliment made her giggle. She rested her chin on her hand and looked teasingly at him, saying, “So, you told me that you're getting more into reading thanks to Firefly Trails.”

“I never wanted to be a reader, but it's all your fault now that you're turning me into one.” Simon unconsciously mirrored her as he smirked, returning her look with his playful sarcasm.

“I'm honored,” she grinned at him, “Do you want recommendations for more books?”

Simon pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He handed the phone to her. “Fill my cup, darling.”

A wide smile graced her face as she excitedly snatched the phone and started typing away her list of recommended books. Simon watched her with wonder, smiling at her enthusiasm. He was truly interested in reading now, thanks to her, and to see her so excited about suggesting him more made him feel loved, in a way.

And the love of a woman was truly something different, even if it was just platonic.

He sighed as he stared at her, at how focused she was on typing out the list. When he thought of it, he couldn't really remember if he had a normal friendship with anyone of the opposite sex before, all thanks to his unhappy, troubled youth.

“By the way, Simon,” she called, now lifting her eyes from his phone, only to be met with his thoughtful thousand yard stare directed at her.

“Simonnnn, can you hear me?” she called again, snapping a finger in his face.

“Huh?” he blinked. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I was just thinking of something.”

“It's alright,” she smiled, wondering what his stare meant. She asked, “I was wondering why you call me darling and love so often.”

His eyes rolled off elsewhere as he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't give away what he felt for her. “Well,” he began, voice quivering slightly, “It's just something I call the women in my life, yeah? Female friends and maybe family members. I think it’s also a British thing.” He shrugged.

It was only the partial truth.

“Hmm. I see,” she nodded, her eyes still glued to the phone. As she moved her hand to get a sip of the water, her finger accidentally swiped to the home screen of his phone, and she couldn't figure out where to go back to the notes app. The little mishap allowed her to take notice of his phone background, which was a closeup photo of a German Shepherd looking directly at the camera with its large, inquisitive eyes. She gave him his phone back, asking him to help her get back to the notes app.

“I just happened to see your home screen. Is that dog yours?” she asked as he gave the phone back to her, now displaying the notes app.

“My uncle's.”

“He's beautiful. What's his name?” she questioned, now getting back to typing out the book list.

“It's a female. Her name’s Riley.”

“Riley! Like your surname?”

“Yeah. I found her starved and thrown in a dumpster as a puppy, and I called my uncle to help me get her out. He adopted her and named her after me,” he said with a chuckle.

She smiled as she finished typing out the list and handed the phone back to him. “That's really nice, and really strange too, because my ex has a female German Shepherd named Riley too.”

Simon raised a brow as he took the phone and glanced at the list before keeping the device aside. “Chalk that off as a coincidence. I guess many people have German Shepherds named Riley. The name is quite common… I think,” he said. But the mention of the ex intrigued him. “You mentioned your ex. So, you've dated before, then?” he asked directly but casually, hoping he wasn't being too nosy.

She shrugged. “Yeah, one guy.”

“What happened with your ex, if you don't mind me asking?”

He saw that she stiffened slightly and looked away for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. He was so close to backing off when she answered him, “Well…” she paused to suck in a sharp breath through her teeth, “He was an older guy, and I happened to keep bumping into him at my local grocery store.”

He raised a brow, first of all at the fact that she dated someone older, and second of all, she met him at the grocery store, the least romantic place to find a boyfriend. But he didn't say anything and listened anyway.

“The first time we met, he mistook me for an employee and asked me where he could find the dog food,” she chuckled, “He was new to the area and didn't know where to find it in the grocery store, and I was also wearing something similar to the uniform of the store employees.”

“So you two hit it off then?”

“Yeah, after that, we'd have small talk, and he was actually quite charming. He asked me out on a date, we liked each other, and then we dated for two months.”

“Hm, that's not very long, innit?” he murmured, “How old were both of you?”

“I was nineteen and he was thirty-five.”

“Holy fuck,” his eyes widened slightly, “Nineteen? That's really young.” He then paused to count, “And you guys had a sixteen year age gap.”

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Yeah, I know, it's crazy.”

“You prefer older blokes then?” asked Simon, fiddling with his fingers as he leaned forward on the table, hoping she would refute it.

“Well no, but I was…” she sighed, “I was trying to figure out what sort of man I liked.”

“And your first choice was an older man,” he thought to himself, but didn't say it out loud. “Wasn't that potentially dangerous though? Sure, you weren't a minor, but you were still young.”

She sighed again, but heavier this time. “Yeah, it kind of messed me up a little.”

“It did? How?”

She told him about how he could get a little demanding when it came to spending time with him, as she was a budding author at the time, and was busy with writing a good piece that was worth publishing.

“Of course, even though I was busy, I tried my best to spend time with him. But he just wasn't satisfied. And since I lived at the dorm in uni, I had a curfew, but he would disregard it completely and beg me to stay and spend the night with him, when I wasn't comfortable with it yet. Thanks to that, just being around him ramped up my anxiety, and our relationship that was once enjoyable wasn't anymore.”

Simon felt tempted to ask if she had done anything intimate with her ex, but bit back, not wanting to come off as rude and intrusive. He listened with narrowed eyes and keen earnestness. “And so you broke up then?” he asked.

“Yeah, and it surprisingly went well. Both of us mutually agreed that the relationship wouldn't work out, and we parted ways.” She paused for a long time and Simon didn't break her spell of silence, sensing a struggle in her to say the next words. She finally continued, “I thought that that was the end of it, but lately he's been calling me again, asking me if we could get back together.”

Simon raised a brow again. “What? How daft is he? He has no shame groveling back to you.”

“Yeah… I spoke to him once to clearly tell him I wasn't interested anymore, but I don't think he understands.”

As if on cue, her phone started ringing. When she checked who was calling, she recognized the unsaved number immediately, having seen it several times. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, feeling the same old anxious feeling rise from her chest to constrict her throat. “It's him,” she said, her voice quivering.

Simon held out his hand. “I'll speak to him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked frantically.

“I'm sure. Give it here before he cuts it,” he urged.

She hastily placed the ringing phone in his hand and he immediately picked it up.

“Hello, mate. ____’s boyfriend here. What do you want with my missus?” he asked calmly.

There was a brief silence.

“Simon?” asked the deep, rumbling, yet gentle voice on the other side.

The colour drained from Simon's face as he recognized the voice he knew and loved.

“Uncle John?”

Plot twist?

End of Part 5.

Part 6

I'm making a taglist btw. Leave a comment if you want to be included!

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aoioozora · 11 months

Text

Flight to Dreamland.

Part 1

Part 2

Character: Johnny Cage Content: fluff, sleep deprived fem!reader, cuddling, banter, slight sexual suggestion, sleeptalking. Photo credit: CVclaire Note: I'm new to the MK fandom and this is my first MK fanfic! I hope you enjoy <3

“What do you do when you can't fall asleep?”

Johnny blinked his sleepy eyes at you as he leaned against his open door. He let out a yawn and then a low grumble escaped his lips as he hung his head down lazily to process and ponder your question.

“Can't sleep?” he asked in a raspy voice, now forcing his eyes open to look at you.

You looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“Come in,” he opened the door further and moved out of the way as he violently yawned again.

You walked in, dragging your long blanket behind you and pulling it against yourself, almost feeling like a princess wearing a heavy cape. Johnny closed the door and immediately fell stomach down on his bed. You sat down on the edge and saw that his arm was stretched out parallel to your thigh, with his hand hanging limp over the edge. Even in the dark, you could see his muscles and you had to fight the urge to touch them.

“How to fall asleep… How to fall asleep…” he murmured, as if chanting. In the dim moonlight, you could vaguely see that his brows were furrowed.

“They say…” he started, “You gotta sit in another room and do stuff until you're tired.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Well, for starters, I am in another room.”

“Since you're in my room, I deduce you want to do something with me,” he, now clearly wide awake, said in a teasing, suggestive tone.

You blushed at the suggestion. You felt movement on the bed, and heard the sheets rustle. Glancing behind you at his shadow, you saw that he was laying on his side, supporting his head up with his hand and arm.

“Not what you're thinking,” you said through grit teeth, trying to make yourself sound like you weren't affected by that suggestion.

You heard a scoff. The bed dipped slightly behind you and you heard him ask, his voice now slightly louder, coming from behind you, right next to your ear,

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden proximity. His breath tickled your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His voice, low, quiet, and intentionally seductive did not fail to send your heart on overdrive.

It came to your realization that you were alone in a room with a man- not just any man, no, no, but one who was charismatic and oozing with pure testosterone, no less, in the middle of the night.

You cursed yourself for choosing such a time to be so vulnerable around him.

There was a pause. While the quiet whisper of his words lingered in the cool night air, he waited for an answer, and you could almost hear him smirking. You sucked in a deep, sharp, annoyed breath.

Taking that for an answer, he said with a guffaw, “You have one hell of a dirty mind, sugar,” and made no conscious effort to move away from your ear.

“I do not!” You protested, unable to hear yourself over how loudly your blood was throbbing in your ears.

He laughed again, clearly amused by your annoyance. His laughter normally was loud and obnoxious (some haters would even go as far as to say that it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, which was not true), but was still oddly endearing. With you, all the time, it was just a quiet chuckle, sonorous and sweet. Every time he laughed in your presence, you felt like he became a little boy, which perfectly encapsulated his occasional childlikeness and childishness.

“Hey, are you mad at me?” he asked, trying poorly to stifle his laughter.

When he got a huff for a response, he put his arms around your waist and nuzzled his cheek against your neck. Although you were mildly upset by his teasing, you didn't oppose this action. The proximity now decided that making you tingly seemed fit.

“Come, lay down with me,” he invited, sounding apologetic, “With my superior singing skills, I'll have you packed and ready for dreamland in no time!”

This earned a giggle from you, and Johnny was relieved to hear it. He may have been an actor, but he could never act contrary to his own feelings. Besides that, he casually dabbled in singing, and you knew he sang extremely well.

As he pulled his arm away slightly to allow you to move, his fingers traced lightly against your shirt over your stomach, over your waist. This sent a strong flurry of butterflies and sparks flying and flitting all over the place in your body. You felt the air hitch in your throat, but you tried to play it cool.

You soon lay next to him on his bed which was meant to hold only one person. The space constraint had to push you closer to him, and he was more than happy to accommodate you by wrapping you in his large, muscular arms, closing further the already measly gap between you and him.

Your blanket was forlorn on the floor, but you completely forgot about it. With one of his arms still around your shoulders, Johnny kicked up his own blanket with his legs and brought it over both of your bodies.

The warmth of his body, and of the lingering warmth on his bed and on his blanket, made you feel like you were a lightly toasted marshmallow on an open fire. It was mighty cold outside, and the chilling breeze that blew in through the netted open windows seemed to go unnoticed.

After he had adjusted the blanket, he turned to look at you. “How do you feel, princess?” he asked with a little smile.

“Warm.” You shyly sunk your face under the blanket.

“Hey, I'm not going to send you to dreamland unless I see your face,” he said in a tone of mock sternness, “For security reasons, I need to know it's you, the real deal.”

You giggled. “What are you? Airport security?”

“Of course! I even had a small acting gig as a flight attendant once in my early days so I know what I'm doing.” he exclaimed softly, “I won't send you unless I see your lovely face.” His voice turned softer and he tugged the blanket down a little, simultaneously brushing the tips of his fingers against your cheek.

You looked at him, shy as can be and mustered a smile. Johnny let out a chuckle of approval and put his arm around you again, allowing his hand to make its way to your hair, tangling his fingers in them. You felt his hand gently pushing your head towards his chest, and you welcomed it. The tip of your nose touched his chest, right above his heart, and you could feel it faintly beating. You could smell the flowery lavender, possibly of detergent emanating from his night clothes, mixed with the earthy pine.

The smell, the warmth, and the man cuddling you, had lulled you to half-sleep already.

Noticing this, he whispered, “We shall now begin takeoff. Fasten your seat belts.”

In your half-sleep, you moved closer to him, obeying the instruction. Johnny would have combusted at your cuteness, but he held himself back. He was on an important mission.

He was glad that it was dark, because his own cheeks were starting to turn pink. Taking in a deep breath to compose himself, he started rubbing you back and singing softly,

“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy, all for the love of you.”

There was no denying he felt exactly what the song said.

“It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage,”

To your half-conscious self, though his voice sounded slightly muddled, it was melodious as the voice of a nightingale; gentle and soothing like a loving touch, like gentle rain pattering against glass windows.

“But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.”

The short chorus of this ancient song was enough to lull you into complete sleep, and he soon found you softly snoring, your breath fanning against his chest. He sang the chorus a second time and gradually quieted as he reached the end, but continued rubbing your back.

He felt your body twitch slightly, and thought you were still awake, but upon closer inspection, you were indeed fast asleep.

“I must've put her on a rocket to dreamland. She reached there so fast.” he thought to himself with a smile.

“Johnny… Johnny…” he heard you murmur.

“Sleep talking?” he wondered.

“Yes papa?” he answered, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing.

You mumbled something under your breath. Not being able to hear you, he leaned closer, asking you to speak up.

You were quiet for a long time, but Johnny wasn't the one to give up. Hoping that you would repeat yourself, he stared at you, waiting.

“I love you…” came your faint whisper.

The womanizing Johnny was used to such words, be it from past lovers or from adoring fans, but the quiet voice, the quiet confession of the lady in his arms was enough to make a man of his caliber melt helplessly.

He wondered if you were dreaming about him, and was flattered to know that you liked- no, loved him enough to show up in your dreams.

“I love you too,” he answered, pressing his lips gently on your forehead.

He saw a faint smile on your face, and wondered if Dream Johnny did the same thing. If her interpretation of him was right, he could expect it.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” he finally said, now closing his own eyes.

End.

Part 2

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #johnny cage #mk johnny cage #mortal kombat johnny cage #Fluff #fanfic #Fanfiction #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x you #aoioozora writes #Johnny Cage Dreamland series

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aoioozora · 2 months

Text

Simon.

Part 13

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au TW: Gaslighting Note: Drama, drama, drama, but happy ending to this part. Enjoy ;)

Gaz and Johnny could not believe what they were hearing.

“Mate…” Gaz sighed exasperatedly and put his head in his hands after Simon had told him and Johnny about what happened between him and ____.

“Yer a fuckin’ eejit!” Johnny spoke what was on his and Gaz’s mind and didn’t hesitate to slap Simon right across the head, something that only his long-standing friendship gave him the privilege of doing without being slapped right back.

Three days had passed since the first day of Simon’s fever and he had recovered from it enough to visit the pub with his two friends for a conference. It evidently wasn’t going well so far.

“Was I wrong to tell her to go out with Alejandro?” asked Simon who was in between them, sitting at the counter, not angry with Johnny at all for the smack he received.

“Aff course, ye absolute fuckin’ lemon!” Johnny shook his head, “Ye shouldnae said that!”

“Cut him some slack,” said Gaz to Johnny, grabbing Simon’s shoulder, “He’s literally never interacted with women before.”

Ouch. However true it was, Simon did not want to be reminded of his incompetence.

“Tha’ doesnae mean he should let her go!” Johnny brandished his arms angrily in protest, and the two shushed him when the other pub-goers side-eyed him. Johnny took a hasty gulp of his beer and lowered his voice to an annoyed whisper, “How daft can he be?!”

Gaz turned to Simon. “Why did you even tell her that?”

He ruffled his hair, embarrassed. “Thought Alejandro would be a better fit for her.”

“How so?” Johnny demanded.

Simon pulled up Alejandro’s Instagram and showed it to them. “He’s a handsome lad, this one. Why would anyone not want him? Look, he’s a model too. And what am I? A bloody blue-collar car mechanic.”

They did agree that Alejandro was handsome, but Johnny grabbed Simon’s shoulder. “Aye, he’s good-looking, but ye cannae choose fer her now, right? What if she likes a bloody blue-collar car mechanic and no’ a model, huh?”

Gaz pursed his lips and sighed, sitting back against the bar stool, thinking about how hurt she must’ve been, even more so after he encouraged her. “You fucked up, Simon,” was all he could manage to put into words.

Simon silently stared at the sweating glass of water in front of him that was turning lukewarm. Three days of awkwardness had passed already. If he let this tarry any longer, his relationship with her could turn lukewarm too.

“What do I do?” he muttered helplessly, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want her involved with me,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I’m an ex-criminal. Who in the bloody hell wants to be with me?”

“She does, clearly,” Gaz interjected confidently.

Simon was reminded of how sweet she was to him even after he bared his soul to her and revealed his blood-stained past; of how she came immediately to care for him when he was sick. And he hurt her, thinking that he was doing her a service. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed over his glass of water, feeling the guilt weigh on him.

Johnny and Gaz silently watched Simon rub a hand over his face, groaning under his breath. Gaz’s eyes flickered to Johnny, and he detected a trace of pity in his grimace.

“Ye wanna ken whit tae dae?” Johnny began, now shifting in his seat. His two friends looked up at him. “Since ye told her tae go out with Alejandro tae her face, ye should go right back tae her and ask her no’ tae go out with him but with ye.” He paused for a moment, “an’ while yer at it, maybe ask her tae be yer actual girlfriend so this won’t happen again.”

“But what if she doesn’t accept? What if she already accepted Alejandro?” Simon asked.

“I don’t think she will,” Gaz spoke before Johnny did, trying to sound confident. In reality, he didn’t know her well enough to predict what she would do, whether or not she would be petty and try to get back at Simon for hurting her by going out with Alejandro. He hoped that would not happen and that she wasn’t that sort of person.

Johnny was surprisingly silent, letting the calmer Gaz speak some sense to their thick-skulled best friend. When the two were silent and Simon was left pondering to himself, he said, “Ye should go and dae it now. Don’ waste time.”

Simon nearly opened his mouth to say that he didn’t feel ready to just get up and go, but that would only elicit a negative response from his friends. And he especially didn’t want Johnny to keep calling him a pussy.

He let out a laboured sigh as he rose. “I’ll be back,” he said reluctantly, pulling out his skull mask from his pocket and putting it on.

Johnny took a slower sip of his pint. “Only come back here if it all goes tae shit,” he said.

Gaz offered Simon a reassuring smile and a firm clap to the back. “You got this mate, go on now.”

And Simon did.

___: Hey, about the date ___: I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m interested ✔️ Read 11:32 AM

She sighed as she returned her phone to her back pocket and shifted her heavy grocery bag to her other hand, trudging slowly and thoughtfully down the pavements.

She just couldn’t accept a date with Alejandro, especially not when she adored Simon. But it was too late for her now; Simon didn’t want to go to the family reunion, which automatically meant that she wouldn’t have to go either.

She hadn’t yet told all this to Lindsey, knowing she would not hesitate to fight Simon for saying such a thing. She wanted to try and talk to Simon again, to tell him that she wasn’t going out with Alejandro, and that she wanted to go to the reunion with him so that he could keep his promise with his mother.

Just as she reached her hand to her back pocket, someone’s repeated honking in her direction made her turn back. She saw a helmeted man on a motorcycle pull up next to her and didn’t recognize him until he took off his helmet.

“Simon!” she exclaimed, feeling a painful flutter in her chest at the sight of his face, “How come you’re here?”

“I was… uh… I was just going to the book cafe,” he muttered an excuse, “and I happened to see you. Where are you coming from?”

She held up her bag of groceries. “From the grocery store.”

He paused for a moment, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “Can I drop you home?” he offered quietly, seeing how heavy the grocery bag looked.

“Um, sure,” she nodded, realising how long it had been since she last rode on his motorcycle.

He put his helmet back on, and she got on the pillion right behind him. Pulling back out onto the road, he began to cruise and slip past the traffic like a lizard. She held onto him, even though he went slow. She missed the familiar scent of the rainforest cologne and found herself pressing herself a little further against him, just to inhale another whiff that took her back to when they met first.

Her moving closer and her arms tightening around his waist stirred a strong feeling of protectiveness and desire in him. He just wanted to set things right with her, and he was determined.

His breath got a little heavy with anticipation when he pulled up at the entrance of the apartment complex she stayed in. She got off, and so did he, saying that he wanted to walk her to her door just to make sure she was protected and safe throughout. The lady was in agony; his kindness to her was making her wound worse. “Don’t raise my hopes now, Simon…” she thought to herself.

When the doors of the lift opened, to their surprise, Alejandro stepped out. He saw Simon and ____ standing together, and fighting back a sneer, smiled at them. The corners of Simon’s lips stayed where they were, and his gaze hardened on Alejandro.

“Alejandro, why didn’t you reply to my text? Is everything okay?” she asked immediately.

Her eagerness made Simon grimace for a split second. Alejandro cast a glance at Simon and then smiled at ____. “I’m really sorry nena, I was pretty busy today,” he said, “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about it. Can I borrow you for a moment if you’re not busy?”

“You’re not taking my girlfriend anywhere.” interjected Simon, “If you have anything to say to her, I’d like to hear it too.”

Alejandro scoffed. “Who are you to decide for her? You’re not even her real boyfriend, are you?”

Simon clenched his jaw and glared at Alejandro. She told him? Was that intentional too? Did she tell him that her relationship with Simon was fake so that it would give Alejandro an opportunity to strike? His anger boiled over at this point, both at her and him.

____ gulped harshly, mentally berating herself for forgetting to tell Simon that Alejandro figured out their little game of pretend. A glance at Simon told her that he was definitely not pleased to hear it.

Simon grunted, not wanting to distress her by making a fuss. “Fine,” he relented and stepped back.

Alejandro smirked and led her aside to a far corner of the lobby where they could talk. Simon kept himself nearby, watching.

As soon as Alejandro ensured that he was a safe distance from Simon’s keen ears, he turned to ____, only to find her nervously and worriedly glancing at Simon. He put an index finger against her jaw and turned her face to look at him.

“Tell me nena, why don’t you want to go out with me?” he asked, letting his finger linger against her jaw before pulling it away.

She pursed her lips. “Because I’m not interested. I like Simon,” she answered firmly.

“Are you sure about him?” he asked, resisting the urge to glance at Simon. “Does he like you back?”

Was she sure about him? Did Simon like her back? The thought of his grimy past came to mind, and the possible dangers of associating with him, and the fact that Simon himself encouraged her to go out with Alejandro. She stood there, her fist clenched tight around her grocery bag, struggling to decide.

She opened her mouth, saying shakily, “I don’t know if he likes me back, but I like him, and I have no feelings for you. I’m sorry.”

Alejandro let out a soft sigh, but he wasn’t discouraged. “Again, are you sure? Because I think he looks like he could hurt you. He might be nice right now but who knows what he could be later on. That scar on his face is really telling. He could just be a criminal, you know.”

She glared at him like he had insulted her. “Don’t talk like you know him,” she said sharply.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologised, “But you can’t deny he has the air of one, can you? He looks dangerous, and I’m just looking out for you.”

She would’ve been swayed by him if it weren’t for her deep seated feelings for Simon. “He does, but I still like him anyway. Besides, he’s always been nice to me by looking out for my safety,” she answered, now starting to get annoyed by his persuasion.

He scoffed. “Looking out for your safety,” he echoed, “What if it’s a case of him being so overprotective of you that he doesn’t let you choose which man is good for you?”

She rolled her eyes. She knew that was far from who Simon was. “Alejandro,” she warned, her voice sharper than before, “I know him better than you, so stop talking like you know him. I don’t like you talking badly of him.”

“Is a man not allowed to express his feelings now?” He crossed his arms.

Her annoyance was only growing more and more. “You know that’s not what I meant,” the sharpness in her voice had an added coldness to it.

Alejandro inwardly cursed at how obstinate she was. “Look nena, this is your last chance. I can probably care for you much better than he can. Why do you want to miss out and like him?” The hint of disdain couldn’t help but slip out of his friendly tone.

“I don’t think it’s right or fair to go out with you when I have feelings for someone else,” she said, taking a deep breath to keep herself from snapping. “I like Simon. End of story.”

Alejandro stood up straight and sighed. “Your loss, sweetheart.” Stepping back, he wished her a good night and strode right out of the lobby and out into the street.

When he was out of sight, she shook her head wearily. One thing after another. At least she shook him off now, but she couldn’t shake off her anger at how he looked down on Simon. Sighing, she raised her eyes back to the man himself, who was still standing by the lift, arms crossed and foot perched up the wall he was leaning against, glaring at the floor. She went back to him.

“You have a nice chat, darling?” he asked through his teeth.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh as she pressed the lift button.

Their thoughts wandered in the deafening silence, and were interrupted by the “ding!” of the lift door opening. When they reached her floor, he escorted her to her door and both of them stood there, hesitating.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” she asked, “You’ve never come over before, have you?”

He nodded in agreement, breathing heavily and mentally preparing himself. He tensely watched her unlock the door and enter, beckoning him inside. He stepped in, taking off his trainers as he watched her shadow move about the foyer. The click of a light switch resounded in the thick silence, and a white light glowed over the two of them as if they were in an interrogation room.

“Do you like Alejandro?” he blurted out in desperation, unable to hold back anymore. He knew he asked her that on the camping evening around the fire, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

“No!” she exclaimed, saying with some force, “I don’t like him.”

He stared at her, his breath heavy again. His lower lip trembled. “Then why did you reveal to him that our relationship was fake?”

“I didn’t. He figured it out,” she replied, her pitch rising slightly in anxiety.

He paused, inhaling once more. “Did you want to go out with him?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t, I just…”

“Then why did you say ‘I’ll let you know’ when he asked you out? Why was it not a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?” he demanded earnestly, taking a step forward.

Her brows furrowed and she took a step back. He saw the flicker of fear and unease in her eyes and stepped back immediately, giving her space. “Did you not want to go to the reunion with me?” he added.

“I thought you didn’t want to go.”

“I don’t!” he ran a hand through his hair, “I promised my mum I’d bring over my “girlfriend” and I thought… it’d be more bearable to be there if you’re around.” He rounded back to his question, “Did you or did you not want to go with me?”

“I did want to go,”

“Then why didn’t you give Alejandro a proper ‘no’ to him asking you out?”

She hesitated. “Why do you care about that, Simon?”

“Because I like you!”

She stared at him, stunned by his outburst. He exhaled and pursed his lips, feeling his cheeks flush both with embarrassment and exertion.

“I like you,” he repeated softly, his shoulders dropping and his hands hanging by his sides as if in surrender, “I want you. I want you to go out with me, not that bastard.” He added angrily, “He’s an odd bloke, that one! I’ve always felt that way.”

Odd was right. “I guess so. He was trying to persuade me to go out with him,” she replied, “trying to get me to choose him over you…” her voice trailed off, “but I didn’t choose him.”

Simon felt his knees turn into jelly. “Who do you choose then?” he asked breathily, swallowing harshly, feeling his mouth go dry, his heart speed up, and his palms sweaty.

“You, Simon. I like you too.”

He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, staring at her, unable to believe his ears. He was almost waiting for her to say “Just kidding!” and call it a day. But she didn’t open her mouth. Her nervous fiddling with her fingers and her averted gaze as she waited for his answer was all he needed to know.

A grin broke his tense face. “Fucking hell,” he chuckled, leaning his back against the front door, legs weak but utterly relieved. He covered his face in his hands, continuing to chuckle. “Fuck me,” came a soft, muffled, but happy exclamation, “I thought you didn’t like me at all.”

She stepped closer to him, a relieved smile gracing her tired face. “I liked you for a long time,” she admitted, “Ever since you saved me that night.”

His eyes softened. “Me too,” he exhaled, feeling the relief wash over him a hundred times over at those words.

But it evaporated slightly when a look of worry flashed across her face, making his brows furrow slightly in confusion. “There’s just one thing I’m worried about,” she began.

“What is it, darling?”

“I won’t be in any danger if I’m with you, right? I mean, with the gang you were with. They won’t find us for whatever reason and hurt us or anything, right?”

He grimaced. It was a genuine concern. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know if they’re hunting me down or not, and maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. When I was arrested, I willingly shared gang secrets to the police. I don’t know what they did with that information, but it’s likely they used it to catch a few of the other gang members. And I don’t know if there are any remaining.”

He paused, feeling an ache in his heart at the sight of the fear in her eyes. He cursed himself for not rethinking his decisions. He inhaled and tried to assure her, “But don’t worry. They usually keep themselves within territories and don’t venture outside of it carelessly. We’re not far from London, but we’re far enough to not be in their territory. They’ve not come once for me all these years, so there’s nothing to fret about.”

Partial relief was evident on her face, even though the fear lingered. He gently took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Even if they come for either of us, I’ll protect you. I won’t let them lay a finger on you. I’ll break their bones if they even try,” he said firmly. “No one will touch you and get away with it, so you have nothing to worry about, alright?”

She chuckled, nodding. “Please, don’t break anyone’s bones. I don’t want you going to prison again.”

He smiled. “Then I’ll let you decide what you want me to do with anyone who hurts you.”

The two exchanged chuckles and grins, and Simon, feeling an overwhelming sense of adoration and love for her, raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. She smiled widely at the chivalrous act, blushing and feeling jittery.

“That being said…” he lowered her hand, pleased to see her reaction, “would you come with me to the reunion as my real girlfriend?”

She giggled. “Real smooth of you, Simon.”

“What can I say,” he bragged, “I know a woman’s heart very well.” As if Gaz and Johnny didn’t agree that he was inexperienced with women.

She burst into a fit of giggles at that joke, and he smirked triumphantly. “Were you able to make her laugh this hard, Alejandro? Don’t think so,” he thought to himself, remembering how angry she looked talking to the man.

He watched her laugh, feeling his affection for her grow stronger and deeper. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed against her fingers as he asked softly, “What will it be, my love?”

“I’ll go with you,” she declared with a lovely smile, “as your real girlfriend.”

End of Part 13.

Part 14 coming soon :)

Oof finally 13 parts later, they are dating LMAO. Reunion chapter is next.

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