#mw2 one shot

[ghosty-writes-23]

lmao can I get some Crack fic of Reader (preferably male or gn) being called out and and just the most out of pocket threat comes out of their mouth before continuing what they were doing?

some possible threats for ya:

-I will rip out your spinal cord

-I will knit a sweater using your goddamn nerves

-it takes roughly 45 pounds of pressure to pop and destroy a testicle, wanna test out how much my grip strength is?

-I will harvest your bones boy.

anyways, hope your doing well! remember to have fun with the threats, the more out of pocket, the better.

-🦀

Sergeant V's Favourite Insults.

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, this is my first time doing a 'request' sort of thing, This is to be read in either a Male's POV or GN so hopefully you like it.

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"The human body has 206 bones, I wonder how many of them I have to break, for you to shut the fuck up."

Sitting in the back of a truck, V could feel the tiredness wash over their body, it has been a successful mission, nobody was seriously injured and none of their team mates died, all the young sergeant wanted was to get back to base, shower and sleep, they would eat when they woke up.

Resting their head on the window, they let out a soft sigh, which caused Soap to look at them worried. "You alright mate?" he asked looking over at the younger sergeant, how just nodded and closed her eyes, hoping to sooth the headache that was coming on.

It was a long drive back, which V would hope would be peaceful, until a small group of Rookie's decided to cause a rucks in the back. Feeling as if their last nerve has been touched V spun around in their seat and looked at them with a glare.

"the human body has 206 bones, I wonder how many of them I have to break, for you to shut the fuck up." they said looking at each of the rookies, they knew they shouldn't have yelled at them like that but they where getting on their nerve, even after Soap had warned them.

Let's just say, the car ride back to base was quiet and peaceful, just the way V wanted it.

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"You Have 2 Seconds Before I Rip you're skeleton out your ass."

Soap knew he fucked up, when he ate V's last cookie, that he knew they had been saving, at first he went into denial of course V would be mad, until he pulled his big blue puppy dog eyes, nobody could be mad at him when he pulled that face, but then Ghost brought up the time Konig accidently eat something of theirs and they didn't see him for 2 days afterwards.

One V arrived back to base, he knew he was a dead man, not even a minute later, Soap felt the tempter in the room drop as V walked in, They has a sweet smile on their face, but under their mask was a psychotic grin.

"Soap want to tell me something." they said, their voice as soft as silk, Gulping slightly the older sergeant shook his head. "No." he said not meeting their eyes, walking over to him, V stood in front of him, their arms crossed over their chest. "You sure?" they questioned and Soap looked at Ghost for help, only for him to stand up and walk off, leaving the two of them alone.

"I'm sorry." Soap quickly said when he noticed nobody was going to help him, hearing them chuckle he gulped. "You have 2 seconds before I rip you're skeleton out your ass." they said their voice still sweet and soft as they moved a piece of hair out of his face.

After that day, Soap learnt to never take the last of V's things.

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Bonus Insults.

"your not a clown, your the whole fucking circus" throws confetti and walks away*

"If I saw you where first prize, I would start walking backwards."

"its seems your last two brain cells are bright for second place."

"Splish splash your opinion is trash." (Personal Favourite.)

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©️2023-GhostyWrites23 All Rights Reserved.

❌Please don't repost, translate or copy any of my work without permission.❌

[icosaur]

Smoke and Mirrors Pt.2

König x FemReader

same warning as the first part, no y/n mentioning

divided this fic into 2 parts for comfy reading

around 10k words

~~~

Trying to think of the best way to execute the plan you came up with, you were overwhelmed with your own thoughts to the point you paid little to no attention to König. Right after breakfast, he announced an offer to assist in cleaning, which you accepted happily. Lydia seemed to relay most of the responsibilities and duties on you and other nurses, due to the elderly age of her. The age where her knees were giving up, so she spent most of the time sitting near patients. From time to time turning on the jukebox to uplift the draping sullen mood.

Long after the cleaning and some other duties you had, such as leading some of the patients to the top floor for their medical treatment, you noticed König disappeared. No longer near your side, he was sitting in the common area at the table. Coming up to him from behind you first noticed he was writing something so hectically, it appeared he was madly stressed.

"König?" your hand placed on his shoulder rather tenderly, made him jerk on the spot as if he was stabbed in the same shoulder, scaring you in the process as well.

"Sorry," he apologized, once he saw the significant fright dawning upon your face at the reaction. Peeking out from behind his shoulder, your eyes glided over the things he was writing. Numbers?

"It's okay," you lowered your body to appear near him on the nearest chair, making it scrape the floor in the process, " what are you writing?"

Before he could reply, König looked around carefully, lowering his head closer to your ear to whisper, "coordinates."

"What coordinates?" you whispered back, studying some of the numbers crossed out.

"Of the missiles! I don't understand why I keep messing them up!" both his hands buried deeply in his hair, tugging on it out of despair.

"Relax, you'll remember them," you tried to unwind the man, as he was losing control over his own body with each second, rocking back and forth. Basically hovering over the piece of paper, he wrote more numbers, slamming both fists on the table right after. The unexpected action sent shivers of qualm down your whole back and you backed away unintentionally, before looking around. Noticing almost every person staring at you two, you tried to make him hear your pleas to recover his temper.

"It is not that serious, please, calm down," you whispered, caressing his back.

"Is everything okay?" Lydia questioned out loud, drawing critical attention to König's unacceptable behavior.

"Yes, don't worry!" you tightened a fake smile, feeling his body shake uncontrollably under your palm.

Once the tension was at its peak and it burst like a soap bubble, he stood up rapidly, making the chair fly through the room and with a loud bang land on the floor near other patients. Equally as frightened patients gasped, moving further from the uncontrolled beast. The situation quickly drew the attention of the guard, and he spoke in the intercom quickly. The outside halls were thundering with multiple steps, clearly in a hurry to the common area.

"I can't stand this anymore!" he yelled out. Every jerk of his body forced people to get away from him, hiding behind tables and other nurses who were just as helpless in front of him.

"König, please calm down, let's go to your room," you practically begged the man to listen to you and come to his senses, as another second of this will have a sad outcome for him.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" he yelled so loud, the scream turned to a rasping roar, most likely hurting his throat. For the first time, you were genuinely scared of him. Eyes dark and empty at the same time, piercing almost. The tone he spoke with evaporated frustration.

The back of your eyes burned, as you tried to contain yourself too. The heart in your chest sank with each yell he let out, making you take a step back, just for your protection.

"Don't move!" the guard suddenly spoke from behind you, thinking he was about to tame a monster and save you from him pouncing you.

You and König saw the shocker in the guard's hands, pointed directly at König.

"Please, don't do it," you whispered to the guard.

"Step aside, this is a dangerous situation," he replied, completely ignoring your pleading. At the same moment, the doors to the common area flew open and more people rushed inside. Doctors, other guards, basically everyone who's been on sight.

Not realizing this just ignited the real rage inside his mind, when a simple talk could have sufficed. They were treating him like a psycho, controlling him as a brute. Pure wrath inflated his chest with deep breaths. You saw his fists clench so hard, white knuckles made an appearance.

"Step back," the guards warned König, circling around him likewise he was a bestial animal, who just escaped the cage, totally out of control.

"You," König's fierce eyes shot right through doctor Sattler, noticing him standing among other medical workers.

This would've had a positive outcome, if only König didn't make a step forward, to reach Sattler. That is when the guards pulled the triggers, discharging the electrical currents from the handheld device into the target through the wires and probes. Creating high-voltage, low-current electrical circuits that affected König's neuromuscular system, the pain, and discomfort contributed to incapacitation, leading him to fall to his knees first. Defeatedly ending up on the floor, his hands were cuffed behind his back, as one of the nurses jabbed his neck with a syringe, containing drugs of unknown origin.

"What is happening?" you questioned the further actions of the medical staff.

König, on the steel patient trolley, both wrists and ankles tied with leather cuffs, to prevent any movement. Escorted by doctors to some unknown to you direction. You were allowed to follow after them, which later turned out to be an underground complex. Not once was it mentioned or shown to you. A look of concern on your face, however every other person involved seemed to be at peace.

The drugs had a numbing aftereffect as you guessed, judged by the slurred speech, and bleak eyes with no spark in them. Drained of color, König couldn't even fight back, however, the tries to pull the limbs out were present from time to time. Especially when the short-term lasting drugs began losing their effect. Tugging onto the cuffs, he twisted his whole body. The scene you wish you never saw, but leaving him alone right now would be so unfair.

"Prepare for ECT," Sattler put on medical gloves hurriedly. The nurse darted from one corner to another, before she could present the electrodes to the doctor.

"Electroconvulsive therapy?!" you exclaimed, once realized what was happening.

"Correct," the doctor acknowledged your concern, "he's getting out of control."

"Why does he need it?" you yelled the question out. The grunts and tries to get out failed miserably, once his waist was tied to the bed as well. He was much stronger and bigger than other patients, so more security was needed in this case.

"We have to intervene with the procedure due to abrupt exacerbation of symptoms," the doctor explained. This made no sense in your mind, his case wasn't the one where ECT would be suitable.

"What about anesthesia?" you watched the doctor apply the electrical currents to König's temples. His jaw previously secured as well, as he wouldn't stop jerking his head away.

"No time," the doctor replied, totally neglecting some steps of the process.

"No! Not again!" was all König could push out of his drugged body, however you were the only person who seemed to care about his pleading.

"Please, don't interfere," the nurse pushed you away from the bed. However, you stayed in the corner of the room, observing, as you had no right to dispute despite wanting to.

"Is the camera rolling?" you overheard the doctor ask. Your gaze darted to a nurse setting up a camera so that the whole process could be documented.

"Yes, sir. Begin now," the nurse gave a heads up, once the timer initiated the beginning of the tape.

Mentioning the current date, including day, month, and year, he continued, "performing an electroconvulsive therapy on a patient suffering from schizophrenia," the doctor narrated for the sake of scientific purposes.

About two seconds after he finished talking, König's whole body convulsed rapidly, involving rhythmic muscle contractions against his will. The electrodes, delivering the electrical stimulation affected the neurotransmitter systems in the brain, causing a forced seizure that lasted for a short duration, less than a minute. The worst minute of your life probably, in a state of shock you froze on the spot. His back arched as far as it could, stretching out the belts to their maximum point. Every stiffened muscle in him twitched with pain. The whole trolley was shaking along with his body. His mouth agape, however not a single sound escaped. Instead, the noises of electricity penetrating his brain were prominent. Skin turned sickly pale, fists tights, and fingers curled inside from the forced electrocution. A vein popped out on his neck, down from his jaw.

The whole scenery left such a horrible aftertaste you could swear you felt those same electrodes fuck up your own brain. Absolute stupor from what you had to witness, leaving an imprint of ache on your heart, similar to being stabbed. You forced your body around, once he fell unconscious as one last profound sigh escaped from within his body; the exhaled breath evaporating into thin air.

Clutching onto your heart, you longed to erase the haunting memory of witnessing his eyes after the procedure, half-closed and vacant, fixed upon a void. Immobile, your eyes remained open. Unable to blink, a single tear broke free, tracing a path down your cheek and dampening the somber, dark-hued tile beneath your feet in the room. You tried your best, but just couldn't control your whole face distorting into a grimace of pity and sorrow. How was this humanly? Was this even legal?

"The aftermath of therapy resulted in success," the doctor's conclusion thundered through the room. The camera was turned off with a single click, saving the recording to the memory card.

The hand over your mouth trembled along with your lower lip. Your eyes followed him being escorted out of the room and, most likely back into his ward. Your gazes intertwined for a split second, shooting right through you, like millions of knives.

"Don't take it to heart," Sattler's voice resounded dry and absolutely apathetic. Not a hint of compassion, a callous response to a serious matter, "It's better for him."

Silence was the best reply, as your balled-up fist was itching with the desire to disfigure a couple of his teeth.

"By the way," before he could leave, both gloves slipped off and met the bottom of the trashcan, "did he tell you anything else about those rockets?"

"No," your answer equally as indifferent, mimicking his toneless demeanor.

"If he does, you know where to find me," his palms produced a clapping sound, colliding against each other; each step echoed in the walls on the underground level. He disappeared, leaving you standing alone.

"They're called missiles, asshole," your whisper bumped against the inner side of the hand, still over your mouth. The little piece of paper with numbers you were quick enough to grab from the table and hide in the depth of the pocket, was scrunched up in your tight fist securely.

Contemplating whether you should tell Sattler about the coordinates König wrote, you unwillingly strolled through the vicinity of the familiar hall. These same flickering lamps illuminating the way were really getting on your nerves already. A low grunt bubbled up in your throat before you knocked on the door to Sattler's office. Surprisingly, the door turned out to be off the latch, and with a quiet squeak was left ajar from the impact of your knock. A bit of wavering, as two forces were battling inside your brain. Listening to the one telling you to enter and snoop around took over, hence why you found yourself rummaging through the documents, looking for a specific dossier. Making sure to not leave huge of a mess, your fingers carefully flipped the folders with names, whispering each one under your breath, meanwhile listening attentively to the sounds outside the office. The upped heartbeat resounding between your ears rushed potent pulses to your temples. The anxiety of being caught and fired was over the top, but if not now then when?

"Finally," you pulled out König's dossier of a pale greyish color. A photo of him attached to the front of the folder with his name written right underneath it.

Reading the text most likely written by Sattler, you learned some noteworthy facts.

"Ex-military unit?" your eyes widened, brows snapped together. Learning more and more information about him, the confusion grew stronger, settling deep in your mind. Tracing the sentences with your finger, you studied his case of illness.

"...

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳: 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦

𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘗𝘛𝘚𝘋)"

"PTSD and they treat schizophrenia?!" your forehead puckered, face contorted in frigid features.

"... 𝘦𝘹-𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘗𝘛𝘚𝘋). 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴..."

"So he is a soldier!" Now his stories made sense, so he wasn't coming up with all of this the whole time. Rushing through the text, you hoped to find out as much information as possible.

"... 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘺."

The thing you saw once you flipped the page, forced thousands of goosebumps to cover your face and scalp, traveling down your back. A dossier of another person in the same folder, not a patient for sure. Your heart raced as fear and confusion entwined within, leaving you paralyzed, unsure of what to do next, because the woman in the headshot photo was a spitting image of you. Terror overtook your face, eyes widening involuntarily, despite knowing it is definitely not you, the difference was almost impossible to tell. Both papers were attached to each other by one clipper, so it could not be a mistake.

Not even a name mentioned or any other personal details about her, age set as unknown. Only some irrelevant details. If he paid so much attention to you because he truly believes you and her are the same person due to quite distorted by medical treatment perception - does it mean they were especially close? Is this the wife Sattler was talking about? The details in König's dossier stated he was not, in fact, married.

"Jesus Christ," realizing what König went through it cleared some things up in the end. Your hand held your mouth shut, not to choke on a wail forming in your throat. There was a value to his words; he went through so much just to end up being told he's guilty of it all.

The efforts to seize what benefits Sattler had from keeping König here and treating him that way it slowly drains the life out of him, were interrupted by hurried steps bouncing off the walls with doubling effect.

"Doctor Sattler! We need you in the ward, please," the nurse in the hall called out to the doctor rushing to his office.

"I'll be there in the minute! I forgot my glasses!" never pausing the sprint, he glanced at her over his shoulder, grabbing onto the handle of the door to his office.

Right in the doorframe he bumped into your figure standing in the middle of the entrance, about to leave.

"What were you doing here?" a stern tone wreathed his question, clearly displeased with the intruder ghosting in his private space.

"We were looking for you doctor," you repeated the words of the other nurse, "thought I might find you in here."

His eyes inspected the room quickly, before shifting them to you slowly, "never enter my office without my permission," he seethed through his teeth. Words leak from his mouth similar to a snake spitting out its venom. Brows arched, eyes full of anger as if something was hidden here, that you revealed.

"I apologize, doctor," you tugged on the fakest of the smiles, fleering your teeth at his hardened face expression. Slightly bumping into his shoulder, you exited the room, keeping both hands in the pockets of the pants. It was time for medical therapies for the patients, so that's where you were headed now.

Next day, the earliest of the morning, and you were on your feet already, pampered with the warm sunrays playing on your body whilst getting ready. Not changing into your work attire, you jogged to the office you hoped not to appear in anymore, but oh well. Everything in regard to any force majeure departure from the hospital had to be negotiated with Sattler beforehand.

"Promise to come back before breakfast starts?" Sattler looked you up and down, inspecting the irregular clothes you wore.

"Yes, it's a quick meet-up with my mother, something with her doctor's appointment," you promised, clutching onto the strap of the bag, hanging off your shoulder.

"Go," permission, with irritation plastered all over it, freed you from the obligations for the next couple of hours. The most he could allow, due to your request being so sudden, without previous notice.

The lie about the appointment was mandatory, otherwise taking all things into consideration, you wouldn't be able to leave so easily. Instead of meeting with your mother as promised, you called one of your friends, who had a significant influential impression in law enforcement circles.

"Elias, you have to find out as much information about this person as possible," the paper with all the details about König and that woman appeared on top of the coffee table. You just had to steal the photos from the dossiers to provide as well.

The guy inspected the faces in the photos.

"Care to explain?" he raised an eyebrow, after reading the sentences written by you in a hurry.

"Later," you sipped the coffee, served to you by a waiter in a small, yet still busy coffee shop, not so far from his workplace, "I'm still investigating it."

Unlike the FBI, the CIA has no law enforcement function and is mainly focused on overseas intelligence gathering, therefore telling him about the things König told you about was the best decision. Worth mentioning the coordinates regarding the missiles he spoke of on multiple occasions.

"What the hell did you get yourself into?" extremely confused by your unexpected knowledge of military, specific guerrilla raid that happened a long time ago, and even missiles, the guy blinked excessively.

"If all of this turns out to be true then I'll catch Sattler red-handed," you twirled the cappuccino around with a little teaspoon, distorting a milky design of a flower done by a barista.

"Tell me where you got this information from first because that is a huge deal!" he crossed both arms on the chest, with a suspicious tone he spoke, digging further into the situation.

"Fine, from one of the patients, but trust me-" you were interrupted by a laugh from him. The guy shook his head, leaning back into his chair. "Trust me, he's not crazy!"

"I can't believe you fell for that," almost a look of disappointment dawning upon his face, sneering at your naivety, "it's a patient of a psychiatric hospital."

"I saw his documents in Sattler's office, where do you think I got all this from?" you hinted in confrontation. Your brows furrowed, angry, that he made fun of your tries to help a person, supposedly in danger, "and this Gargamel looking doctor is definitely hiding something."

"Okay," he sighed out, inflating his cheeks, "but if this turns out to be bullshit and I end up being questioned by authorities with a flashlight in my face," his lips fastened into a tight line, "I'll tell on you."

"Deal," nothing, but confidence in your mind. Sattler was lying, and you had to find out about what exactly.

"How do I get in touch with you?" he remembered your whining about not being allowed to use cell phones or any other electronic devices in the hospital.

"Tsk, right," you flipped the paper with the details around and scribbled the hospital's number with a pencil provided by the coffee shop.

"So you call this number," your finger pointed at the newly written numbers, "and ask for my name, but don't say anything to anyone about this," you warned the guy, as you had no idea who you can and cannot trust. At this point everyone seemed to be under suspicion, most likely bribed by Sattler. The only mutual hanging phone you were talking about, attached to the wall near the entrance. The guard keeps an eye on the phone the whole time and notifies the needed person in case of a call.

"Thank you, sir," a couple of scrunched-up banknotes landed on the palm of the taxi driver, who drove you back to the hospital.

Making your way inside, just before the breakfast as promised, you acknowledged William with a speedy greeting, fleeing into your room to change into the uniform. Patients were waiting for your appearance. Only one patient you hadn't seen among others yet, as he was under reinforced supervision after the incident.

"Honey, will you bring him the medicine and food this time?"

Sattler made sure to ask Lydia to take care of König, instead of you now. Weird, right? So her request made you a tiny bit happier, at least now you could see him and make sure he's fine.

"Of course," you gifted her a gentle smile, placing the last plate of food on the table in front of an elderly woman with dementia. In the later stages of dementia, the woman tend to forget how to use utensils, has difficulty coordinating her movements, even becomes unaware of hunger or the process of eating. Swallowing and chewing the food are also on the list, hence why she has a nurse assigned to her day and night.

A cart with the food and medicine didn't let you use the stairs like you usually did, therefore the elevator had to be taken instead.

Softly knocking on his door, you entered the room, previously unlocking it with the key. A set of keys you received at the beginning of your employment. The keys were left hanging from your neck, just below your chest.

"Hello," in fear of disturbing him, you exhaled the greeting quietly, "I got you food." König lain on the bed, his hands folded on top of his stomach. The only movement visible to the eye - was his chest heaving with ponderous, pacified breaths. Your eyes inspected the red-ish marks in the form of bruises on his temples, feeling your heart clench at the sight.

"Hm," his heavy eyelids opened to catch a glimpse of whatever you brought to him, "I'm not hungry," he turned his face away, to stare at the wall.

"What did they do to you?" a rhetorical question, more to yourself than to him. You lowered yourself to sit at the edge of the bed. Your hand cautiously sneaked to embrace his, to what he replied unhesitantly, squeezing your fingers with the leftover force he had within his weakened body. Your thumb caressed the knuckles of his unusually freezing hands.

"You have to eat, dear," you hated yourself for pretending to be a person that is so meaningful to him, but this was done in hopes to help him.

His head turned to see the plate full of food he had absolutely no interest in, however, his eyes shifted to observe the pills, "ah, these goddamn pills make me like this."

You followed the direction his gaze was pointed at, to inspect a plastic can of nauseously orange color, the size of the pinky. Half of it was loaded with pills slightly different from those prescribed for him previously. The container appeared in your hand, studying the name written on the sticker part.

"Cerebriol," mistrust crossed your face, contorting your eyebrows, "seems to be your usual medicine," the can was twirled around between your fingers. The intuition telling you this was a bad sign, proved you right as soon as your nail picked on the corner of the sticker with the name of the pills. By pulling it off carefully, you were introduced to the true name.

"Cerebex?" the corners of your lips curled down, "never heard of these."

So you had to find out. How exactly? By calling the pharmacy from the analog wall phone mounted into the wall, but being extra unsuspicious about it. Late in the evening, calling the noctidial pharmaceutical company.

"VitaPharm Plus, how can I assist?" an enthusiastic voice rejoiced on the other end of the wire. A lady in her early 30s picked up the phone.

"Good night, I would like to know what "Cerebex" is prescribed for?"

"Sure! Let me check this quickly for you," she paused for a couple of seconds. Her fast typing was coming through the phone. Your lower lip was caught between your teeth, as the worry built up gradually. Looking around from time to time, making sure no one is listening, you awaited for her to give you the needed information.

"Right, Cerebex is prescribed for sleeping issues and as a muscle relaxant." Nothing sounded suspicious, but it can't be this simple.

"What are the side effects?"

"There are little to no side effects," she read the description of the monitor, "unless taken in a dosage bigger than prescribed."

"And what happens then?" that's exactly what you needed to hear.

"In case you or someone you know has overdosed, please call an ambulance and let your doctor know immediately for further assis-"

"No no, everyone's fine," you interrupted her speech flow, "I just need to know what happens and what is the daily dose for an adult person?"

"I see, so the consequences may vary per person, but the main effects from taking more than needed are: memory fragmentation, cognitive overload, impaired motor skills," she listed each aftermath possible, "also sleep disorders and hallucinations as well."

Every listed aftereffect pertained to König's current state.

"Oh, and the daily dose of Cerebex is one pill every eight hours, twice a day, so one in the morning, one in the afternoon."

Everything would be fine, but König had two pills per intake, meaning he had four a day, instead of two. You made sure to count the number of pills before flushing them down the toilet.

"Thank you so much, have a great night," noticing Lydia was coming closer, you hurried to hang up.

"Who were you talking to?" the lady inquired. The wish to reply "none of your business" was hitting through the roof, however, acting nice would help you get out more details in regards to everything happening in the asylum.

"My mother," you grinned through a blunt lie, "she needed my help with some pills." Brushing her question off with a weak excuse, the silence acceded for a quick second.

"Oh, I see," bobbing her head slowly, she continued, "well, time to put patients to sleep. Let's go," her hand waved for you to abide by.

Silently treading on Lydia's heels, you cheered in your head, for never doubting yourself or your intuition.

Closer to the evening, you strolled through the hall of the patients' floor. Making sure every person is in the bed already - you finally reached the last ward.

"Who is this?" König's eyes half-closed, chest rises heavily, as if a huge boulder has been put on it and he's forced to breathe despite anything.

Doing your best to get rid of the pills given to him with an ill intent, you still failed to save him from them. As sometimes, Lydia or another nurse would be in charge of medicine delivery. Watching his body give up slowly, was a truly heartbreaking scenery. His skin went as pale as it could, the man looked benumbed.

"It's me," hoping he'd recognize the voice at least, you came closer slowly, putting both hands in the pockets of your robe.

Fluttering his eyelashes, as if he was clearing up his vision, König's hand jerked to grasp yours, however, was prevented from doing so by the leather cuff. One of the mandatory things to avert any of his possible behavioral outbreaks at night. However, what outbreaks when he was barely breathing? The sight jabbed you right in the heart as your lips morphed into a distorted line. Judging by how weakly he could move, the pills were strong enough to destroy the nervous system at a rapid speed.

"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," you appeared sitting on the edge of the bed, that way you could entwine the hands. Even though König looked nerveless, his hand still wrapped around yours tightly, as if every last bit of his energy has been dictated to concentrate in the embrace.

The pills, that you once again stole were flushed down the toilet as usual. Hoping this would help him, you whispered one last goodbye, before locking the door to his room.

Stabilized relaxation in your own room was disturbed by soft, but demanding knocking. Wondering who could it be at such a late time, you glanced at the clock near your bed, before getting up and hurried to the door. Maybe something happened and your help is needed. The tries to fall asleep failed anyway, so at least you could do a good deed by helping.

However, greeted by a displeased muzzle all will to help vanished.

"Doctor Sattler?" The last person you expected to see at your door right now.

"Someone is asking you to the phone," a clearly annoyed tone. As usually. You believed there was nothing in this life to make him at least a tiny bit happy.

"Me?" quite unsure you clarified it was actually you asked to the phone.

"Well not me, clearly," he spat. Shouldn't have asked to minimize the probability of him boiling over even more.

Not to snap at the man, you walked out of your room silently, leaving the door open.

Sattler watched your back distancing further and further. Slightly rolling the eyes, he glanced briefly into the room and took a step to disappear into his office. However, once one thing caught his eye, he stopped. Making sure your steps were muffled enough due to the distance, he turned around on his heels to peek inside the room again. The old newspaper, you got from the antique shop was on your bed, as you forgot to place it back in the bag, after studying the case of hospital closure for a hundredth time.

Waiting approximately three seconds, he slithered inside the room carefully, approaching the bed in deliberate steps. Immediately scanning the papers with his eyes, a cold sweat covered his forehead. Reading the information presented on it, his fists clenched inside the pockets. Confusion settled, hindering the process of realization of what you were up to and where exactly you got the newspaper of such old age, and with the information that could seriously harm the stabilized reputation of the clinic.

"Hello?"

"I don't know how exactly you got all this information, but most of it is true," you recognized your friend's voice Immediately. By turning around to make sure no one's eavesdropping, you covered your mouth with the hand, before speaking.

"What do you mean? Like everything?"

"Whatever I could get without being suspicious, and I found out something about the doctor too, but I'm not talking about this over the phone, we have to meet."

"I'll try to come up with something," you promised, biting on your lower lip out of anxiety. What he meant was soon to be found out, but how exactly do you leave the hospital now? Sattler won't let you leave again any time soon.

"Do so and as soon as possible, because your doctor isn't the one he presents himself to be."

The last sentence from him was accompanied by monotonous beeping, leaving you puzzled. Your blurry gaze focused on the phone, hypnotized by the beeping before you could put it back where it belonged to finally silence the bothersome noises. With a longing touch of your palm, your hand slid down the handset.

There was no hesitation now and no uncertainty about the need for appropriate actions taken against Sattler and his disgusting conduct. What exactly did Elias mean by saying Sattler is lying about his own identity? This short conversation would most likely keep you up the whole night, but it's for the best. More time to think about how to act correctly in this situation and get out of this mad place.

Quiet steps, following the pathway back to your room. Your room happened to be at the very end of the personnel annex, meaning the main offices were in between the rooms and the entrance hall. Passing by Sattler's office, you rolled your eyes, letting out a silent scoff. But just as you were about to do a runner past the office to stay unnoticed, his fairly alarmed voice forced you to pause.

"... knows something, she keeps snooping around," despite not hearing the beginning of the conversation, you were pretty damn sure you were the topic of the discussion.

With an ear back-to-back with the door, you hoped to catch the rest of the conversation.

"How?!"

Sattler's reply resounded rather perplexed.

"Do you understand someone will look for her?! She isn't one of the patients!"

Frozen in place, your eyes widened, forcing the eyebrows to raise on your forehead. What did he mean by that? Was he planning to get rid of you, as he does of the patients? No fucking way.

"Figure.. your things.. the fuck out,! I'm not covering you anymore! I worked for 'Hope' most of my life, I'm not risking everything for a fucking stain."

"Your things?" you repeated his words in your mind, listening to the next thing he says.

"If someone finds out, I'm out of business and you're on your own."

Silence. The conversation seemingly ended on a bad note. Surely you dug up something that was hidden for so long and so securely.

Hearing his abrupt steps come closer, you fled immediately and hid behind a corner, in the obscure part of the hallway. Your hand flew over your mouth, to conceal the shaky breathing, scared of him hearing the slightest rustle. Sattler rushed past you like a gust of wind, a veil of anger loomed behind him. The air suddenly thick, making it impossible to inhale fully.

Sattler stormed off in the direction of the personnel rooms. So that is not where you were about to head as well. Directly into the trap? Hell no.

Overwhelmed with the news you found out there was only one possible solution - to flee. How? You couldn't care less how, just flee. Keeping in mind that the asylum is pretty far from civilization you knew you'd have to either run through the woods or maybe catch a passing car. The risks are high as fuck, both inside the hospital and outside, but sitting on your hands - was definitely out of plan.

Sneaking past the sleeping guard, your body slipped into the patient's complex. You were glad to find out the key set was in the pocket of your pants. Although one thing you forgot is to cover your top body with something much warmer, as one tank top failed at heating your body up. Skin covered with goosebumps, both from fear and the chilly atmosphere. Tiptoeing to the upper floor, you stayed attentive to the environment; in case of someone following you to be quick to hide.

Hands trembling as you fiddled through the keys to find the needed one, throwing occasional glances from over your shoulder. If Sattler has realized your room is empty by now, he was sure where to look for you next. Whole body went through shock a couple of times when a random noise came from somewhere. Finally, the needed key unlocked the door, you took care of locking not so long ago.

"König!" you flew to the bed, falling to your knees. The man startled by the sudden shaking, tensed up, tugging on the leather cuffs. Probably thinking he was about to get a shock treatment once again, he couldn't help but protest, before his vision focused on your face. Your finger pressed to the lips, shushing him.

He kept mumbling something incoherent, completely ignoring you, so you just had to grab his jaw to bring some sense into his blurry consciousness.

"We have to go, now!"

How exactly were you supposed to disappear with a man twice as large as you, staying unnoticed was a secret to you as well, but leaving him here wasn't an option. If you manage to get away on your own, Sattler will make sure to get rid of König at least. By now, Sattler had to connect the dots and understand how exactly you found out everything, so if not you, then König.

"Go?" König's eyebrows furrowed, as he blinked hurriedly, "where?"

"I promised to get you out of here, remember?" you spoke as calmly as you could, however, the upped breathing still made your voice shake a bit. With equally as shaking hands, you tried to undo the cuffs keeping him locked in.

The realization finally set, as he calmed down and let you do your thing. One cuff was almost off, almost there. Salvation was almost there to grasp on. Mind racing for a solution of an escape.

"Where is your scar?"

The question caused a momentary pause, halting your actions just as you were about to remove the second handcuff.

"What?" your eyes shifted to his face. He looked confused; the confusion slowly merging into anger. The pupils of his eyes were so narrow, almost disappearing in the depth of his irises. Eyes bleak, eyeing you down, as if you were the one to treat him wrong.

"The scar on your chest, where is it?"

What scar did he mean wasn't clear. Was he hallucinating again?

Now realizing that you were wearing a tank top, exposing just enough area below your collarbones for him to notice an absence of a scar that probably his lover had, you cursed yourself for not wearing anything else even more.

"She had a scar from a mission. You're not her," his voice so low, it sent shivers down your spine. Full of hatred all of a sudden. His hand jerked to catch your wrist, which you omitted being faster in motions. Just because his wrists were still locked in, it gave you the privilege of jumping back far enough for him not to reach you.

"König, please listen to me," understanding there is no point in lying anymore, you shushed him again, as the tone of his voice became louder and louder. The last thing you needed right now was for him to start protesting at the top of his lungs. Judged by the sinister face expression, his mind was blurred with rampage, and listening to your explanation was the last thing he wished to do.

"No!" he thundered the roar out, forcing you to instinctively stumble back even more out of fear of him breaking free, "you're just like them! You lied to me!"

"Please listen to me, I swear I want to help!" your voice cracked as you let out a whispered scream. Grunts ripped out of his chest; in one powerful tug, he exerted such force on the cuff that it ruptured, freeing his hand. Not only he wasn't hearing your pleading, he seemed entirely unresponsive. The grunts and utter deep roars from struggling could be heard outside the ward, the intensity most likely awakened other patients.

"I'll kill you! Where is she?" he tugged harder on the second cuff, getting off the bed. Your back bumped into the wall, watching him go apeshit. Before he could destroy the bed and get to you, you had to run again. This time from everything within the confines of these walls.

"Where is she?!"

Although it pained you deeply to leave him behind, your own survival was the top priority. Swiftly locking the door from the outside, to keep him in for as long as possible, you were buying yourself some time.

"What is going on?" one of the patients stepped out, wrapping themselves in their blanket.

"Please, stay inside, we're having trouble," you yelled out loud for every patient to hear and conceal in their rooms. As no one knew what to expect from a distressed beast.

König's repeated attempts to forcefully break down the door to his room caused it to shake intermittently. Eventually, with a loud groan, he succeeded in ramming through the door, leaving it in complete shambles. Patients, abashed by the situation, evacuated their rooms as well, yelping for help as they rushed downstairs.

To somehow cover up your absence and divert attention from yourself, you sprinted to the alarm button in case of emergency and with a hard slap, activated sirens in the whole hospital. Red flickering lights along with a loud alarm system pulled every person in the hospital out of a deep slumber.

The whole situation was in your favor, as now the medical personnel was preoccupied with attending to the fleeing patients before they could search for you.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Sattler stopped in the hallway, before picking up the pace to the patients complex, along with every other nurse and doctor present in the hospital.

Locked in a tense gaze, you encountered König, whose eyes burned with pure anger. Desiring to camouflage yourself among the patients, you swiftly descended the stairs. However, he pursued you relentlessly, driven by a thirst for retribution for your blatant lie, the betrayal of his trust, and using him for your benefit. His eyes fixated unwaveringly on his target as his intimidating presence progressed through the crimson-illuminated corridors.

"Running won't help, I'll hunt you down if I have to!" a deafening scream echoed through the air, so powerful you felt it bump against the back of your head, overpowering the rest of the yelling temporarily impairing your hearing.

In the meantime, Sattler rushed to his office first, before heading to the patients' annex, realizing you were the reason for the alarm system going off after failing to meet you in your room.

A mix of medical staff and patients created turmoil in the halls. Nurses and doctors had to take care of panicking patients, meanwhile, guards combed the building, looking for you or a missing patient, marked as dangerous by Sattler.

Your heart beating so fast, it's almost escaping your rib cage, sending painful impulses into your temples. Your back pressed to the cold wall, as your hand tried to muffle your half-crying whimpers. Scared for your life, you took a turn, hiding behind a corner, and moved quietly to the dining area. Praising yourself for setting off the alarm, which did a great job in concealing your movements, you were hiding as best as you could. Trying to find a way outside, you paid attention to every other sound, resembling steps or movements. If anyone catches you right now, you're done.

Squatting, you moved lengthwise to the food distribution counter, on the other end of the room stood König, listening attentively. As if he could smell the scent of fear coming from you, he moved further. Slowly, but surely.

"Where are you?!" his voice thundered through the whole kitchen area. You doubted you'd ever heard a voice so wrathful, it let alone forced your body to slide down the wall, not to get caught. He was flipping the tables and chairs upside down, expecting you to hide underneath one. One of the chairs flew over the counter, forcing you to instinctively jerk at the sound of a metal chair clashing against the wall. By scurrying away on your fours, you made your way to the stockroom, where all the canned food was stored. Hearing the door lock click, König advanced in the same direction. Somehow moving the tiny fridge to barricade the door and with both your hands pushed your whole body weight, to prevent it from shifting if he manages to open the door. Exactly at the same time, the door handle shook vigorously. A couple of punches landed on the door before all of a sudden a sentimental voice spoke.

"Please, open the door," he sounded on the verge of crying, "please," his fist bumped against the door, but now carefully, "open the door, open the door!" almost whining he begged.

Nibbling on your lower lip not to cry out from fear, you listened to his pleading, not even moving a muscle. He tried to coax you with sweet talk, however, you weren't born yesterday.

"I need you, please, you know I love you?" his voice trembled, "we were supposed to run away together, remember?" the door handle kept twisting; from the force, he was shaking it with you watched the screws come undone pretty quickly.

"Come out, don't make me come in there!" with a loud groan he ripped the door handle out, making you stumble back. However, the freezer did a great job at winning a couple of seconds to think of what to do next. Turning around to study the room, you noticed a wardrobe designated for keeping brooms, dustpans, and every other cleaning object by the kitchen staff. Hiding inside it was the best decision, as there was no other way from the kitchen, other than the one König obtained.

The door was opened forcefully, making the fridge move as well with a screeching sound.

"I know you're here and I'm going to get you regardless," his eyes shot daggers from left to right, before focusing on the wardrobe in the furthest, darkest corner. Leaving the door slightly ajar, you maintained a limited view of the scene outside. König standing amidst the disheveled area was a hell of a sight. A tear escaped your eye and trickled down your cheek as you observed him taking a single step forward. Suddenly, another voice pierced through the tense atmosphere. Suppressing your rapid breaths, you concentrated on the sounds that reached your ears.

"Stop right there," Sattler's voice serene as usual, however, intimidating enough to understand he's very unpleased with the happening. The atmosphere mimicked a calm before the storm.

"You," König turned his whole body around, "I'll kill you first, then I'll get her," he seethed, "I know you two are against me, but you can't break me so easily."

"What the fuck are you even talking about? You are sick in the head!" the yell scraped Sattler's throat. His eyes wide, lip quivering with anger spilling out, "I should've burned your brains a long time ago when I had a chance."

Shifting just enough, you positioned yourself to catch a glimpse of the outside through the narrow opening. A strip of scarlet-tinted light fell across your face, perfectly dividing the only eye focused on the men. Right in front of König, Sattler stood with an outstretched arm, aiming a glock at him. The sight of the gun's muzzle fixated on its target was paralyzing, leaving you unable to utter a word or even make the slightest movement. Holding your breath, you remained frozen in place.

"I'm sick of hearing the same thing over and over again," König's shoulder arose with each heavy breath he took, "you'll pay for what you did."

"You know nothing," Sattler replied through his teeth.

"Oh yeah? Like the fact you're a traitor?"

"Shut up," the safety valve clicked with a single push of a finger, "no one's going to believe you anyways."

A traitor? Is this what Elias meant by saying Sattler isn't the one he pretends to be?

"Or the fact you've been in a coalition with a criminal syndicate all these years for your sick benefits?"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" the gun in his hand was visibly shaking. König kept talking loudly, spilling all the information he knew.

"I'll get out of here this way or another and you'll pay for what you've done," König stepped forward and that was the mistake leading to Sattler pulling the trigger. A loud cry roamed through the area, forcing König to land on his knees from sudden bullet penetration. The bullet, deep in his shoulder, ripping the tissue didn't stop the man from grunting and cursing in pain. His hand pressed to the wound, was painted with the blood gushing out of it, down to his elbow. Determined to complete his mission, König stood back up, straightening his back despite the ache, numbing his whole body.

No other word got to be exchanged, as Sattler pulled the trigger once again. Sending a rapid bullet through the head, Sattler watched the limpid body fall to the ground with a loud thud. Not a single bit of hesitation or regret on his face. An emotionless expression.

A shocked gasp that forced all air from your lungs, followed by a few seconds of eerie ringing in the ears while you tried to collect yourself enough to start breathing again. Vision going blurry, wide-eyed staring into space. Your skin burned with agony, almost letting out a painful cry stored in your lungs. Ripping your heart apart, the sight left an imprint on your memory.

Sattler simply stood there, his body frame disappearing in the darkness from the crimson-tinted siren lights flickering in a repeated subsequence.

Shaky breaths were muffled from your face hidden in your arm, not wanting to make a noise, but being unable to stop the sobs; the skin covered with millions of goosebumps failed at soaking up the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Doctor!" one of the nurses hurried into the area, "we nee-" shocked by the scenery, she paused, lost for words, before swallowing heavily to continue speaking, "we need you in the ward, a patient is experiencing convulsions."

Before they both stormed out, you heard Sattler command the guards to look for a missing nurse, you in other words. So now you had to get out and disappear. Because if they catch you, the chances of getting the same treatment as König had were the highest of all. Awaiting for at least a couple of seconds you stepped out and in quiet steps came closer to the motionless body on the ground. The state reminded you of that time when they performed an electroconvulsive therapy on him, same icy eyes. But this time his face was splattered with blood streams. Fighting the urge to collapse on the ground and beg him to wake up, you forced your body to move further, trying to put up with the fact that you failed at the only thing you promised him. The blame for this would most likely follow you until the end of your days.

Wiping the tears with the tremulous hands, you carefully moved to the exit of the dining room and by peeking out saw no one in the hall, meaning you could proceed with the escape. But before you could sneak through the window and vanish in the freezing forest, you were stopped by someone hiding around the corner.

"Here, take this," a set of car keys appeared on your palm. The guy, who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and was believed to be mute, finally spoke.

"You speak?" this wasn't the best time, but this detail surprised you enough to pause and chit-chat.

"Doesn't matter, I stole Sattler's car keys from his office, run!" he pushed you in the shoulder, previously making sure no one was in the common area, therefore you could get out the entrance door unnoticed. He would probably never find out how grateful you were right now, but you simply obeyed his command and flounced outside, hearing the entrance door lock behind you.

The glacial wind coated your exposed skin with an immediate effect, however, the only thing you could feel at the moment - was fear of not getting out in time, neglecting the clouds of steam that were escaping your mouth with each breath. Crouching down near the needed car, which you saw Sattler drive from time to time, you unlocked the door and crawled inside. The trembling key barely made it into the lock cylinder, the ignition forced the growling engine to rip apart the perfect silence outside. Faint sirens in the back failed to camouflage the car noises, and one of the guards glanced outside through the window.

"She's escaping!" he yelled into an intercom, immediately receiving an outrageous reaction from Sattler.

"Shoot her! Don't let her go!" a static voice of a man commanded urgently as he sprinted towards the window. The guard responded by unleashing a barrage of gunfire, leaving bullet marks on the roof, making you slouch and cover your head. Drifting around the fountain, with screeching tires that tore through the meticulously decorated gravel pathway, you forcefully drove the car through the metal gates, disregarding the condition of them or the car afterward. Glancing back from time to time, to make sure you had no tail, you left all of them behind, speeding up the road that reposed among the incalculable trees. You had a single destination in mind, a place of absolute safety, and that's where you were heading. Leaving the car on the sideway of the road, you walked the rest of the way by feet, just in case.

"What the fuck?" Elias stood in the entrance doorframe, observing your beat-up appearance. Trying to speak through the tears and sobs as you were pulled inside; you stumbled in the room and plopped on the couch defeatedly.

"I didn't save him," was the only thing Elias understood through gasps for air.

A couple of years passed since the incident.

You, a recognizable author with a dissertation. No, not the initial topic you planned on publishing the article on, a different one. Inspired by the title from an old newspaper, you revealed the true horrors of the asylum the name of which was so deceiving.

"𝘏.𝘖.𝘗.𝘌., 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘖𝘢𝘬: 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘐𝘯𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴"

The title brought the attention of hundreds of thousand of equally as interested people to the theme of it. Exposing the truth about the clinic that existed for more than a hundred years, your dissertation led to the closure of it very quickly. The head physician soon appeared on the local news, just to be infamous for his illicit deeds to the whole world. You made sure to call the police to inform them of a murder, that happened right in front of your eyes.

"𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐𝘯𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴"

Elias assisted in the revealing of his true identity.

"𝘐𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘖𝘢𝘬, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦."

The news reporter spoke, as they showed the moments of Sattler in the courtroom, hearing the sentence ruled out by the judge.

"𝘋𝘳. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘩, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘋𝘳. 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘮."

Authorities, receiving a warrant to search through the hospital, managed to find all the records of the barbaric medical procedures, he tried to bury so securely.

Much to your surprise, Sattler turned out to be Steinbach's son, the former head physician of psychiatry. By changing his last name, but keeping the first letter of it, he hoped to continue the experiments his father did on people within the walls "for the sake of science". Likewise his son, Steinbach was executed for the exact same cruelty.

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘳. 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺."

König was correct when he called Sattler a traitor; indeed in coalition with a criminal syndicate, Sattler assisted in espionage and the illegal maintenance of the reported missiles.

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵, 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘳. 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵."

The screen of the TV flashed with colors and transitions between news before the same reporter could announce the beginning of some bicycle tournament around the city. The silence fell upon the room, once you pushed the power button to shut it up.

Even though so much time has passed and the suffering seemed to come to an end for others, your heart still ached as if it all happened yesterday. Unable to erase the moment of König's death from your memory, you spent the days in your apartment, only letting Elias in for a wine night.

Elias actually got a raise, for assisting in the case of catching a potentially dangerous criminal. He was promoted, once everything was revealed to the public. Therefore, he'd treat you to wine and other things in gratitude, despite you convincing him it was unnecessary.

Part of your personal therapy was visiting König's grave, just to talk to the whistling wind, pretending it's him speaking. As if the wind was whispering back sometimes, you'd hold a one-sided conversation.

"Hello, dear," you sat on the wooden bench, right next to the tombstone with his name carved into the marbled surface, receiving the well-known silence in reply. Your fists clenched in the pockets of your coat, fighting back the urge to wail. As the warm breeze kissed your face, the tears shimmered in your glazed eyes.

Knowing no one was there to take care of his funeral, you took matters into your own hands instead, to somehow atone for broken promises. If you failed to save him from the place that doomed his existence to an end, the least you could do - is arrange a modest funeral, with a priest, you, and Elias as the only guests.

Reading the information on the tombstone for numerous time, your eyes shifted to another tombstone within reach.

A gravestone identical to König's, unfortunately, left anonymous. Elias did his best, but just couldn't find out her identity, as if it was wiped off from existence. The only photo of that woman you had - delicately engraved into the polished surface of the headstone per your request.

That way they leastwise could forever be united in the eternity of the afterworld realm.

[pxnkedniall]

MW2 one shots

hello all!

I have decided to start a collection of one shots as a way to fine tune my writing skills. I will be taking requests for basically any ship, but this is a list of what I will not be writing:

Underage sex

Rape

Pregnancy/children

Excessive violence

Excessively unhealthy relationships

I am really open to a lot of ideas ! Please put requests in my ask on my tumblr @/pxnkedniall

they will be posted on my AO3 (melomaniegarbagewalker) and my wattpad (pxnkedniall) for everyone to enjoy ! (they are linked on my blog)

thank you in advance for your support <3

[moi5t-fk-fruit]

✩ Ghost Fucking You in a Alleyway ☾

Oneshot ⋆⁺Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader⋆⁺

⋆⁺₊⋆ Summary: While trying to avoid shadows, you and Ghost get stuck in between a tight alleyway. And sure Ghost’s gun is hard but not as hard as his dick pressed upon your ass. All your Lieutenant needs is a quickie!

⋆⁺₊⋆ Warning: Pet Names, Dirty Talk, Unprotected p in v, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Semi Public Sex, Groping, Rough Sex, Praising, Breeding Kink, Gagging, Cummm. NSFW! SMUTTT! After Care? :3

⋆⁺₊⋆ A/N: This shouldn’t have taken me so long. Just enjoy plz and thx 4 reading cuties <3 Plz support by reposting ;3

Nsfw below the cut

Imagine…

Ghost and you sneak through houses and alleys, taking down any shadows in your way. Rain splashing with every footstep taken.

“Come here-" Ghost grips your forearm and pushes you against him as he leads you through the allyways.

You follow trying to pick up your feet to his speed.

Feeling your back on his armed chest as he tries to keep you close to him. He slows down and lowers his head close to your ear, you can feel yourself almost trip when his hot breath is on your bare neck.

“Trying to find somewhere secure. There's too many of them. Better to wait it out.“ he whispers close so only you can hear him. As you’re still trying to comprehend the situation, he brings you both to a stop and slides into a narrow alley.

He waves you over and you both try to get deeper where the street lights won’t expose you.

Running on adrenaline you both didn’t realize the alleys becoming tighter. Only when it was too late and you shuffle against him.

“No stop-“ he breaths out, you’re pinned against him and can feel him all around you.

“Fuck m’sorry sir.” you’re more than embarrassed, your hands are in front of you on the bricked wall.

“Just stay still.”

“Can’t stay still. Your so-hard against me-“

“What?” You can sense his eyebrows curling and even his lips forming a smirk but it quickly vanishes as your embarrassment got the best of you. You began to arch away from him and shuffle off of him.

“Y/n stop” He almost growls out. You ignore and try again, this time he’s had enough and his gloved hands grip the sides of your waist. Though the timing could’ve never been worse.

As he pushes you down you accidentally grind onto him, assuming the hardness on your ass to be a gun. Letting out a cut whine of discomfort.

Out of your sight, Ghosts head shoots back to the wall behind him, biting his lip to the point where blood could be drawn. Keeping quite.

“You mind moving your fucking gun lieutenant.” You stutter out.

“That’s not my fuck’n gun sergeant.”

His voice is somehow deeper and his accent thicker than you’ve ever heard, he’s desperate.

He’s hands are still on your waist as your eyes widen due to feeling the large imprint of his crouch on your ass. If your cunt wasn’t already wet from him being all over you, it’s soaked now. He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck. Your bodies fuming together. In defeat you let your head fall to his chest you can now see his balaclava and skull mask, his eyes are shut.

“Told you to keep still.”

Silence falls, you look up to the starry night. The storm now soaking you both more, feeling rain droplets fall on your face. Ghost focuses on your breathing and his hands that still grip on your waist loosen. Not wanting his gloved hands to leave your body you grab them, moving them lower to create a space in between the warmth your thighs. Your eyes flutter as he leads himself, his large hands squeeze and kneed your inner thighs. You turn your head close to his ear. Softly praising him to continue, he boldly moves his hand towards your clothed cunt and gropes you, you whimper and arch into his hand. He also turns his head to face you, admiring your slightly illuminated scrunched features as the pleasure gets to you. Ghost shuts his eyes when he grinds his dick against your ass again, much rougher, his lips parting open from the friction. You moan into his covered parted lips.

“Tha’s it. Jus like that pretty girl.”

He kisses you, it’s sloppy and full of hunger. You begin to kiss him back and his balaclava becomes wetter with the rain and the way both of your saliva starts mixing. He groans softly when you catch his bottom lip in between your teeth through his mask. Detaching after a slow tug.

“How about we speed this up-huh pet?" His other hand taking a hold of your throat and giving it a squeeze. You nod and with your own hands you unbuckle your cargo pants. Ghost takes his hands off your body and helps by pulling your pants down, below your ass. A short hiss leaving you as you feel the coldness of the night.

"Been wearing these along. Who could've known you were such a slut on the battle field." He says while soothing your cunt through your laced panties, his thumb applying pressure to your clit.

"Wear'em for you"

"Really?" He lets out a low cold chuckle, sliding your panties down to your pants. Moaning when he gives your ass a squeeze.

"hands on the wall sergeant"

You obey and hear him unbuckling his own pants, listening to him groaning when pumps his shaft a few times before tapping his wet tip on your cheeks. Ghost lifts you and slides his dick back and forth through your wet folds, feeling the girth and length as he humps you from behind.

“You okay with this doll? You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes. I want it, please Ghost-”

“Fuck’n hell. You’re going to be the end of me.”

Ghost slides the tip of his dick to your entrance and slowly lets himself in and out. Your mouth agape and his hot breath bleeding through his mask into the cold air of the night. Thinking of the sight someone could catch you both in. Bent over and holding yourself against a bricked wall, the storm coving the lewd sounds carried with heavy breathing while your lieutenant fucks you from behind.

You both holding in the satisfaction of him inside you but failing as he slides his tip back out of you and slams his lengthy dick fully into your pussy. His heavy balls making contact with your ass and a splash occurring with the rain. Your loud moan cut out from Ghost coving your mouth with his gloved hands.

“Let’s keep those pretty moans for my ears only. Don’t want the whole city knowing I’m fucking you like this.”

Ghost continues fucking you, his dick deep inside your pussy, his balls splashing and hitting your ass with every thrust. You can feeling yourself at the edge of your climax.

“Need to cum Ghost- can’t go any longer…”

“Come on then pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, need to feel that fuck’n cunt tighten.”

He fucks you harder, until you moan ‘Ghost’ out, loud enough for him to take one of his gloves off and shove into your mouth. You cum hard onto his cock, tensing when tasting the metallic in your mouth as you whine into the his glove. Ghost shutters behind you, his cock twitching inside you as your walls tighten and your juices cover him.

“Gonna let me come inside you doll?”

You gag on the glove and he takes it out.

“Please Lieutenant, I need you.”

Ghost groans in the crook of your neck.

“Want me to breed your pretty pussy badly, huh-doll?”

“Yes-!”

You’re cut off with a hard slap on your ass and Ghost’s thrusting becomes unrhythmic. You listen to his hushed moans and heavy breaths as he stuffs his balls on your ass and coats your walls with his seed. You whimper from the feeling of his cock pulsing.

“Good girl, take it all in for your lieutenant.” Ghost continues riding out his high and doesn’t stop thrusting into you. He pulls your head back to see your face, only to find you practically drooling.

“You’ve gone cock dumb sergeant.” He chuckles and slows down, his cock softens inside you. Wiping away the drool with his one glove. He takes a hold of your chin as you both lock eye contact. From just the sight of him, your eyes shut and you cum on his soft dick. Ghost praises you through your second orgasm. You both feel the mix of cum dripping from your pussy down his shaft, undoubtedly staining Ghost’s pants. He groans while he pulls out carefully and you whimper from discomfort.

“You alright love?” He holds you, taking your now rough and wet hands off the wall, he begins to slowly massage them with his own calist hands. Until their back to their soft form inwhich he loves.

“Yes sir” You give him a warm smile that makes his pulse quicken. You rest your head back on his chest and begin lifting your pants up.

“Let me take care of you love-” You blush harder as he calls you that again. “-promise I’ll get you properly cleaned.” He slides your now drenched panties back up and pants. Buckling your belt for you, adjusting to the right fit. With the space you have you lean forward for him to slide his briefs back around his waist and pants. Giggling quietly when you hear him trying to rub off the cum that got on his pants with the rain. He wished you could see the smile that spreads on his face as he listens to your sweet giggles.

“We should get going y/n.” You hum, remembering where you really are. He helps you shuffle off him, trying to avoid anymore physical contact. You both begin to retrace your steps, now knowing the shadows are far gone. The street lights becoming more visible.

Before you get your gun out and focus back on the task at hand, you’re halted by Ghost turning you over to face him. He traps you against the cold wall with his large arms. You look up to him. Rain droplets failing from his skull mask and helmet. His eyes not leaving yours.

“Lieutenant?”

He detaches his skull mask and slowly lifts his balaclava up to his nose. Revealing the bottom half of his face. You observe his stubbled beard and slightly chapped lips, scars scattered around his face, one larger one extending across his lips. He looks down to your lips and his hands find the sides of your head. Ghost smashes his lips with yours. You both finding pleasure with his controlling mouth. Though he backs up and slides his balaclava back down, along with attaching his skull mask on.

“Let’s finish this mission and continue this later eh-sergeant?”

“Yes Lieutenant-”

“Atta girl.”

[wttcsms]

these eyes were made for lookin’ at you (only you) ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 5.6k synopsis simon riley didn’t ask to be a hero, but he finds himself wanting to be yours. content contains hints to human traff/icking (not explicit), breeding kink, belly bulge, size difference, pet names/terms of endearment (pretty girl, baby, love, darling, sweetheart), soft!ghost, obsessive!ghost, domesticity, mutual pining, praise kink, probably ooc!ghost but the man is absolutely whipped for you, clothed sex (his uniform is on), minor depictions of violence

He doesn’t quite consider himself a hero, you know.

He’s got a foul mouth, a sense of humor that borders between too dry or too dark, and so much blood on his hands that he’s surprised to see they’re not red when he pulls off his gloves and runs them under scalding hot water.

There will be no parades in his honor. No little boys running up to him on the streets, proclaiming that they want to be just like him. No statues to be sculpted to remember him by whenever he meets his inevitable end, six feet under. He probably won’t even be a memory after death.

And he’s come to terms with all of this, of course. It’s not like he cares — he didn’t sign up to do this shit for the glory or because he wanted to be considered a hero. He did it because someone out there had to be the person willing to do anything for the betterment of everyone.

Perhaps that makes him heroic in some sense; again, he doesn’t particularly care.

Until you.

Until one mission sends you into his direct orbit, knocking everything he’s ever known out of its place. It’s disorienting, confusing—

—exhilarating.

He doesn’t get scared anymore, but there’s something inherently frightening about wanting to share parts of yourself — of your very being, of your soul — to someone. He’s not quite able to label any of the emotions he feels for you the first time he sees you, but he feels enough to know that if he wants to save himself, he should put as much distance between the two of you as he possibly can.

(It turns out that this lieutenant doesn’t have as great of a sense of self-preservation as he proclaims.)

You cling to his arm, ignoring the way your palm digs and presses into the hard armor and tactical gear he sports. You think he might shake you off or forcefully pull you off of him, but he does neither. The soldier freezes, just for a second, and then he turns to face you.

If this is what the Grim Reaper looks like, perhaps death isn’t such an unfavorable ending. You can’t make out any physical features of your savior’s face, save for the pair of dark eyes staring right at you.

The skull mask does its job of securing his identity, but he should consider wearing goggles, you think. You’re not certain, but you think his eyes must be his most incriminating feature. You think if he gave you a proper minute to look at him, the image of his eyes would be ingrained in your memory. You’d be able to recognize him by them alone.

“Do you understand me?”

The gruff voice must be coming from him, if the subtle movements underneath his mask are any indication. He’s staring straight ahead now, watching as the rest of his team begins to usher the other girls who were stolen alongside you into large trucks. Maybe they’re tanks. You’re not quite sure.

“You must not then, yeah?” When he speaks, every word seems to be just the slightest bit rough around the edges. His accent is oddly nice; from the way he delivers his comments, though, you’re left wondering if he is, too.

He must be — nice, that is. A nice man would let you continue to grip his arm for support, even though you’re capable of standing on your own. A nice man would save you from the hell you’ve been subjected to for… Months? Has it been months? Shorter, maybe? Or longer? Time passes differently when all you want to do is die.

“I understand,” you finally answer him. You think your words must come out a little rough, too. The air in this area seems hard to breathe in, and you’re not sure when was the last time you even drank anything. You say it so quietly, you’re afraid that you’ll have to force yourself to speak up, but he nods.

“You’ll be safe now.”

Looking back, those might have just been words meant to comfort you, but you trust this masked man. You don’t know him (not yet), but the way he says it sounds like he means it.

(He means it.)

He goes by Ghost.

He doesn’t tell you why, and you don’t unnecessarily pry yourself into his business.

He doesn’t even tell you the name himself; you hear it from the mouths of the other officers, the other men who helped in rescuing you and the others.

The man who took you — the one in charge of shipping and selling the girls — won’t be giving you any more problems, now. He won’t hurt you again, isn’t even capable of touching you ever again. This is what Ghost reassures you with, and you nod, believing him.

After all, you witnessed him slice the asshole’s neck. You watched the blood spill out of his body. You were being ushered away at the time, but you still found the strength to turn around to watch him die.

You still haven’t found yourself able to detach yourself from him, and he hasn’t found the strength to shake you off just yet. Your fingers look dainty compared to the bulk of his arm, and the uniform he’s wearing only serves to add to his overall mass. You should want to put some distance between you and him; you know what men are like. You know it doesn’t take much for them to snap and change their demeanors in an instant. With the strength you’ve already witnessed and the sheer size of him, you know fighting him off wouldn’t even be realistic. But you still find yourself refusing to leave him alone, as if the evil he just destroyed will come back to life and hunt you down the very moment your savior leaves you.

It’s why you’re in a separate vehicle from the rest of the rescued girls. It’s just the two of you in the back, and the only noise you can hear is the loud huffs from the engine and the sound of tires speeding on rough terrain.

“When we return, there will be people who will come collect you and the others. They’ll clean you up and help you get back on your feet. You’ll be able to start a new life.”

A new life?

The thought excites you.

You don’t know what awaits you outside. When you were a little girl, you were still allowed to bask in the outdoors. The warmth of the sun, the feel of a soft breeze brushing against your skin — sometimes, when you were chained and in your cell, cowering in the dark, you wished that you hadn’t taken advantage of those little luxuries.

“In this life… I will feel the sun?” He hears the innocence in your voice, your question filled with longing and maybe even excitement. It was just past dusk when they rescued you; it’s now nighttime, and he feels himself wishing he had the power to bring the sun down from the sky and present it to you.

“In this life, you’ll be able to do anything you want.”

He’ll personally see to it if he has to.

You had fallen asleep by the time you reached your destination. With one mission successfully completed, Ghost finds himself with another almost immediately after, and with the peaceful expression on your face and the fact that this facility is one of the most secure buildings in the world, he leaves you—

—only to return back to the facility in a little over two weeks.

It’s not as if there’s someone waiting for him in the empty residence he calls home. Besides, it’s only natural — human, even — for him to be curious as to how you’re doing. While he trusts that you’re safe, he finds himself, in between lulls on missions, wondering how you’re adjusting.

(And in the rare moments where he finds himself fighting off exhaustion — the only telltale sign that he’s still flesh and blood and not the phantom his enemies think he is — he finds himself wondering if you’re thinking about him too.)

What did you see when you stared at him that day? He had killed a man — killed many men, actually — without mercy, without hesitation. He’s done it so many times throughout his life that wielding a weapon has become second nature to him.

Sometimes he even feels like he’s the weapon.

And again, he doesn’t care about whether or not he’s deemed a good person or a hero, but he doesn’t want to be a nightmare to you. He can still feel the ghost of your touch lingering on his left arm, the arm that you had clutched the day he rescued you. If not for the employees confirming your presence and guiding him to your room, he would be almost convinced that you’re a dream he thought up himself.

“Poor girl,” the woman leading way is telling him. “She’s been having the worst time out of all the others. I’m not surprised, hearing what they must have had to endure all that time, but the sweetheart can’t even sleep without us sedating her.”

“What?”

The low timbre of his voice makes the word sound more like a growl.

Seemingly shocked at his reaction, the woman almost pauses in her steps before continuing. “Yes, she’s been having nightmares. Thrashing wildly in her sleep, screaming the first few nights, even.” And then, almost as if she’s trying to make him feel better, she adds, “But she’s much better now. Save for a few sobs every now and then.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. If it had been someone physically tormenting you, he would have no issue in getting rid of the source of your pain. Demons who only appear in nightmares, though — that’s something not even he can fight off for you.

When they make it to your door, the woman knocks gently, calling out your name softly, almost as if she does anything too harshly, you’ll break down.

“I brought someone here who wants to see you, hon. I’m going to come in now, okay?”

The woman eyes him almost warily as if she’s just now taking him in. He didn’t bother changing out of his usual uniform, telling the helicopter pilot that picked him up after his most recent mission to take him directly here instead. In his defense, he hadn’t even anticipated you still being here.

But you are.

He’s well aware that he probably doesn’t look the nicest, his mask serving its purpose and obscuring his whole entire face, making him entirely unreadable. If you’re as skittish as the woman claims you are, perhaps it’ll be for the best if he leaves now.

But it’s too late. She’s opening the door and never one to hesitate, he’s stepping in. The woman doesn’t follow; instead, she shuts the door, most likely ready to call for backup if anything were to happen to you.

You look at him, and then a second later, recognition gleams in your eyes.

Now that it’s not as dark, he’s able to take in every single feature of your face, from the color of your eyes down to the slope of your nose and the shape of your pretty lips. He commits your visage to memory.

“It’s you,” you breathe out, sitting up straighter on your bed. “The man who saved me.”

And if the near reverent way you greet him isn’t enough to have him reeling, the next words you say have his heart freefalling:

“You’re my hero.”

You speak to him so sweetly, in a tone so soft that the words you say wrap around him like a warm blanket. No one has ever said that to him. No one has ever spoken to him the way you do.

He swallows hard, and for the first time in his life, he’s unsure of what to do.

“Have you been alright?” He asks, and your expression falls almost immediately.

You answer him after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

You little liar.

“I’m very comfortable here, but I’ve seen many of the others getting ready to travel elsewhere. The people here are kind, and they tell me they have many houses I can choose from. They’ll help me find work and…” Your voice trails off, and he watches the way your hands curl around the bedsheets. “I’ll be normal. Find a husband, make a family, forget all about this.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

You’ll learn soon enough that he doesn’t like lying.

He moves quicker than someone his size should be able to; stealthy, too. You don’t catch his movements, but you blink, and suddenly he’s right in front of you, crouched down so he’s able to look you in the eyes.

You were right. You are able to recognize him by his eyes alone.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.” When he speaks, you can’t help but hang on to every word. You find yourself nodding. “You’ll answer me honestly then?”

You nod again, this time a bit quicker.

“Good girl.” You hear the approval in his deep tone of voice, and you almost wish you hadn’t. You didn’t know what it’s like to be fed such praise, and you’re stuck starving for it now. “How have you been?”

“Alright. I’m happy to be here, but I—” Your voice cracks, and so does something inside of him. You look down, suddenly more interested in your sock-covered feet rather than his eyes. “Everyone else is able to move on so quickly, or they have someone waiting for them. I have no one. No one is looking for me. No one is expecting me.”

The realization of your reality finally settles in for you with your confession. You were born into that fate; the other girls who used to occupy the cells next to you were stolen. By all means, you were assigned to die there. There isn’t a future for you because you’re certain the universe did not anticipate you ending up like this.

No one is expecting me.

He understands what that’s like. It’s the reason why he’s here, because for once in what feels like forever, he finally has someone he’d like to see after a mission.

“You could find someone out there.”

“What if I leave here, and no one wants me?” The words come out a bit wobbly, and you look at him with glossy eyes and wet lashes.

You’re even prettier than he remembers.

He swallows hard, trying to find the right words to say.

(Soap claims he has a bad habit of saying the most awful things at the worst time possible.)

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Because after meeting you for the first time, he — the man with no regard to his own personal well-being and the utmost self-control — finds himself longing to be in your presence. He had to see you again; can’t you already see how you’re taking root inside his very being?

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Will you come back then?” When you look at him like that, all wide-eyed with your pretty lips forming a subtle pout, he thinks he might do something stupid, like—

“Whenever you want me to.”

—make a promise he might not be able to keep.

He gives you a burner phone. It’s supposedly untraceable (he doesn’t let you know about the tiny personal tracker he attaches to it; don’t worry, he’s the only one able to access your locational information), and while he doesn’t give you any explicit instructions, the only number programmed into the contacts list is his.

(That’s fine with you. It’s not as if you have anyone else to talk to.)

You know that he must be a busy person. You wonder if he’s considered a savior to many other people like you. Then innocent thoughts like that spiral into something jealous. Does he normally visit the people he saves? Are there other girls who have been gifted a phone like this?

He doesn’t message you, and you’re too scared of bothering him to reach out.

Every night since he sent you this phone, you’ve laid in bed, thumbs hovering over the keypad, debating what to say if you ever get the courage to text him. Every night, you never hit send on a single draft, and you fall into an uneasy slumber usually after your tenth attempt at a text message.

Sleeping is the worst.

Your nightmares can’t reach you when you’re in the safety of the waking world, but the moment your eyes are closed, it’s like every dark memory you’ve suppressed comes out of the shadows and begins its long-awaited torment.

The feeling of the cuffs on your ankles digging into your flesh feels too raw and real to be a mere memory. The men walking by your cell, sometimes staring at you uncomfortably long, taunting you and calling you cruel names. They’re always so explicit about what they have planned for you, but your seller will never give you up. Not until he finds someone willing to pay the high price he has hanging over your head.

You’re an untouched, undamaged good is what he reminds you. You’ll make him so much money.

But then you feel the cold, clammy grip of his on your arm and his breath on your neck, and you scream and scream and scream.

There must be cameras in the room you’re in because after the first week of nightmares, the kind workers here stop rushing to your room. If you don’t quiet in a few minutes, a male nurse will come in with a syringe and a pitying look before injecting a sedative into your veins. Artificial sleep is the only uninterrupted rest you get these days.

You wake up with your throat raw from your yells, and your skin sweaty. It takes several minutes for your heartbeat to go back to its regular pace, yet the images of your most recent nightmare are still flashing in your mind. You grab the cell phone you keep tucked under your pillow. It must be because of your panicked state of mind, but you find yourself clicking his contact.

The dial tone grounds you into reality, but before you can truly come to your senses and hang up, he answers the call.

“Hello?” Hearing his voice calms you down even more so despite the slight crackle that comes with hearing him through the speakers of the phone.

“Ghost?” You’re whispering, even though you’re certain that the walls are thick enough for you to speak normally without bothering anyone. Besides, anyone with ears probably already suffered through your fit.

“[Name].”

You don’t remember telling him your name, but it makes sense for him to know it. After all, he’s the one who visited you several days ago.

The thought that he would have to make an effort to seek you out and learn more about you is far more comforting than you think it should be.

“S-sorry for bothering you. It’s probably late—”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I… Alright?”

“Yes.” After contemplating a bit, he adds, “And don’t try to lie to me, either.”

“Are you busy?”

He’s in a safe house ten minutes away from the facility; say the word, and he can get there in three.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“No, I’m not busy. Now your turn: how are you feeling?”

“Scared.” It’s easier to admit things when you’re unable to see him. Staring at him makes you nervous because you think he’ll be able to read everything on your own face. Vulnerability is never easy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Maybe it’s the exhaustion messing with your mind, but you think his voice might have just softened, just the slightest.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent, but you think you hear some slight movement on his end.

“Ghost?”

“Yes?”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to visit you. Do you not want me to?”

You’re scared to answer, too frightened that your tired state will cause you to let the raw truth slip out.

You think you’re always going to want him.

He can only visit you when he’s in between missions.

(Unfortunately for you, breaks for him are a rarity.)

He comes back to you, sometimes a little bruised, sometimes a bit more broken than when he had left, but he always keeps his promise.

Whenever you want him to be with you, he’s there.

The nightmares gradually get better with time, but you always sleep the best when he’s with you. At first, he would just sit in a corner of your room, almost impossible to view unless you focus hard on him (if you didn’t know he was there, you probably never would have noticed him at all). He eventually began to sit closer to you, somewhere near the edge of your bed. On the rougher nights, you would find yourself reaching out for his hand.

When his presence alone can’t keep the nightmares at bay, and you wake up from another bad dream, he doesn’t force you to tell him what you see. Instead, he talks. Despite his rough voice, the sound of him telling you about the mundane aspects of his day is the most comforting thing in the world. It’s like your own personal lullaby.

He tells you about his life before this. You tell him about yours, too. His gloved hand brushes against your cheek as he tucks back a strand of your hair. You lay your own hand atop his, feeling the warmth of him even through the thick leather. You tell him about your nightmares, all the darker details that make you loathe your very being. He tells you his name.

You whisper it back to him.

Simon. Simon Riley.

You say it several times, sometimes slowly. Testing out how the syllables rest on the tip of your tongue.

He likes his name best when you’re the one saying it.

The facility starts to fill up with other saved victims from missions more recent than yours. You’re free to stay here as long as you like, but one day, Simon presses a key into the palm of your hands. You don’t need him to say anything; the imploring look in his eyes, your favorite feature in the whole world, ask the question for him.

Now the two of you share a bed. His toothbrush stands right next to yours, and the former empty residence that Simon used to spend his off-time avoiding is a home. He cares about what will happen to him because every time he leaves for a mission, you send him off with a soft see you soon!.

He knows that keeping his heart cold would ensure that he would go to great lengths to see to the success of his missions, but running towards death is such a silly thing. Why would he be okay with chasing after that when he knows he can return to his safehouse hidden in the woods and find you in the kitchen humming? If anything, he completes his missions even faster now. You told him that you’ll be expecting to see him soon, and he’s not one to disappoint you.

Simon Riley knows he’s got it bad. He can’t sleep well unless his sheets smell like you. He asks if he can bathe you just to run soap over the smooth skin of your body because he’s entirely obsessed with you, every scar and beauty mark. He knows it’s dangerous, but he keeps a Polaroid of you tucked safely away in one of his inner pockets in his uniform.

One morning, nearly a year since he rescued you, you tell him you love him.

He lets you take his mask off.

You’re smiling at him, eyes shining as you take in every minute detail. You can’t believe this is a face he would want to hide from the world. Selfishly, you’re a bit pleased with knowing you’re one of the few to see him like this, completely bare. To make the moment even better, he says it back.

He loves you.

“I know.” You tell him; it’s obvious. His mask is resting in your hands, after all.

Simon rushes home after every mission to see you, his first love, his only love. He loves coming back to you when you’re barefoot in the kitchen or washing your face in the bathroom, but he loves it the most when you guide him to your shared bedroom, the prolonged distance between the two of you making your longing for him all the more intense.

He loves you all the time, especially when you’re lying beneath him completely bare, with your hands (so much smaller compared to his own) eagerly touching every inch of him you can reach. He just got back; his uniform is partially off, all the weapons left hanging by the doorstep. He’s got nothing but the protective armor and the thick fabric on him, and with the way your body is practically calling for him, he doesn’t think you’ll give him enough time to strip himself of his clothes.

“Simon — missed you so much,” is what you whine out. He knows. You don’t have to whimper it out to him because your actions (and body’s reactions) leave nothing to assumption. You’re struggling to lift yourself up to pepper kisses all over his unmasked face, dainty hands tugging at his sleeves. Your cheeks are flushed, and you attempt to rut against him, trying to get some type of friction to satiate yourself.

You’re already so wet for him that he can feel it through his uniform.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” That’s your Simon. Always reassuring, always there when you need him. And right now, you need him so desperately that you’re soaking the bedsheets beneath you.

True to his word, you feel a gloved hand teasing your slick folds, smearing your arousal everywhere.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, admiring your glistening folds for just a second with a sort of sick fascination. He can spend hours with his head in between your thighs and your hands clutching at his hair. He won’t be leaving you so soon, though. He’ll have all the time he wants to bring you to the height of pleasure with just his tongue; tonight, he wants to give you exactly what you need.

The feeling of two of his thick fingers working in and out of your tiny hole has you moaning and writhing beneath him. You’re always beautiful in his eyes, but there’s something about you with wild hair and eyes shut from pleasure that makes you practically irresistible to him.

Everything about Simon is larger than life, and the feeling of being so small in comparison to his hulking figure should be frightening. But when he’s above you, his large fingers toying with your pussy in the way he knows you just love, you feel protected. Like he’s your shield from the harsh world outside. Inside your shared bedroom, only you two exist.

Your back arches, forcing his fingers to reach even deeper. The texture of his gloves only adds to your pleasure and in an attempt to prepare you for his cock, Simon adds another finger to stretch out your tight cunt.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” His words come out through gritted teeth, as if it’s taking everything in him not to replace his fingers for his cock. His tolerance is hanging on by a mere thread, but he refuses to fuck you properly ‘til he’s certain you’re ready to take him. Only when your cum is coating the leather of his gloves will he know.

You nod, occasionally jerking your hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing after your high. You’re beginning to feel hotter, your pussy becoming even wetter, and neither of you can make out the words you’re mewling out. Perhaps your whines are pleas for more, maybe even mercy.

You can’t last any longer, and as his fingers curl against your sensitive walls, you find yourself nearly screaming his name as you gush around his fingers. He grins at the result of his hard work, withdrawing his fingers just to hold them up to you. His gloved hand glistens in the moonlight, and you can only watch as he raises his fingers to his mouth before sucking your essence off of them, effectively cleaning it up.

He never breaks eye contact with you once.

“Should I try it straight from the source?” His grin is teasing, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of wicked.

You weakly shake your head, already too fucked out to properly respond.

“No? I’ve been starving for your taste all those weeks I was gone, love. You don’t want to be a sweet girl and let me have my fill?” You know he’s just teasing you, but you still find yourself upset at the prospect of displeasing him.

“Not yet.” You pout, spreading your legs for him. “I wanna feel your cock.”

His grin only grows wider.

“Looks like my perfect girl’s been starving too, huh?” He leans down to give you a kiss, and you can taste a hint of your arousal lingering on his tongue. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

Everything about Simon is larger than life.

The first time he ever fucked you, you had cried from the stretch of his massive girth invading your previously untouched cunt. The sensation of being filled to the brim was a foreign one, but a feeling you’re certain only he could provide. No matter how many times he’s had you, it always feels like it’s your first time taking him.

He’s whispering words of reassurance as he guides himself into your leaking entrance. Despite him working you to your peak, three fingers doesn’t begin to compare to his dick, and you find yourself whimpering over his words of praise.

“You’re doing so well for me, love. Such a good girl, my good girl.” He kisses your forehead, forcing every inch of himself inside until the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. The pleasure of being so full outweighs the pain of the stretch your cunt has to make to accommodate his sheer size.

You stare down at where the two of you are connected, taking a sharp breath as the unmistakable bulge in your belly serves as undeniable evidence of just how deep Simon is capable of reaching. It’s always a wonder on how your tiny pussy is always able to take him, and Simon merely chuckles as he notices where you’re staring.

Using the same hand he used to coax your first orgasm with, he gently guides your hand to rest on top of the bulge. He’s smiling as he tells you, “Keep your eyes right there, darling. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.”

His thrusts are always powerful, a true sign of his strength. You’re not even sure where all his stamina comes from because no matter how exhausting his missions may appear to be, he always finds the energy to fuck you well throughout the night.

Your body’s natural instinct is to tighten around him, and the pressure has him growling as he works harder to piston his cock in and out of you. The lewd squelching noises, the smacking of skin against skin — everything is just so downright pornographic.

Your free hand finds purchase on his clothed back, nails digging through the fabric as he continues to work to bring the two of you to an explosive finish.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, darling.” He hisses, relishing in the tightness of your cunt and how your body takes him so well every time. “I don’t ever want to leave you alone again.”

You whine out for him, needing him closer even though he’s already as close as he can get. With his unyielding, powerful thrusts and your heightened sensitivity, neither of you is going to last much longer. He looks down to admire the imprint of his cock in your belly. He loves you and finds every little thing about your body perfect, but he can imagine your belly expanding to make room for his child and your tits swelling with milk. Fuck.

“Want to put a baby in you, love. Will you let me? You’ll never be alone again, not when we make the perfect lil’ family.” He grunts, and you nod, overjoyed at the idea of him wanting something so intimate. A family. Your family. He’ll give you a baby.

“Yes!” You scream out, feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to breaking. “Wanna have your baby, wanna be with you forever.” The words come out sounding like sobs as you feel the tension inside of you snap.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Going to fill this cunt with my cum, darling.” His thrusts are becoming more erratic as he gets closer to losing control. Both of his hands grip your hips, his hold on you tight as he releases into you with a deep grunt. His cum is thick and warm, filling you up so much to the point where it’s already leaking out despite him staying inside of you all in an attempt to make sure it takes.

Breathless, wild-eyed, red cheeks — the both of you are an absolute mess.

You take a shaky hand to run through his hair that’s damp with sweat, and he leans into your gentle touch. You stare at him with a reverence he feels he doesn’t deserve.

“My hero.”

[callsign-coolsquirrel]

Roaches first mission

that mission in brazil sucks so bad but the content is so worth it

[vanillaberrychills]

Nyquil nap presents:

Delinquent! König x prim! reader

— You were a good girl, straight A's, never out of uniform, bookworm with all the right friends. The kind of girl who had a future in some career that took way too long to get a career but paid very well. Someone who made their parents proud and had their life planned out and put together together.

At least, that was what you presented yourself as. A prim girl in her final year of highschool; that awkward stage of being an adult trapped with the overbearing authority of people still dictating your choices. Realistically, you weren't the perfect prim. As you pretended to shove your nose in a book, ignoring the sounds of students you sat next to, ate with, or even walked by, you were unruly. Or you wanted to be, and you found yourself searching for that in others. People who you shouldn't admire, you did. Because they were free.

König was a well known student for this simple stereotype, not necessarily a class clown or anything, but he didn't care about societal pressure forcing him to be some goody-goody. You'd heard the rumors, he was bullied for being a bit chubby as a kid. But he grew into and became this absolutely massive guy, you imagined just how much his family spent on feeding the damn semi-truck.

Regardless, you knew König's story, he was bullied, he worked out, he got his looks together, and the delinquent group immediately took a liking to him. Taking him in and helping him enjoy his life freely, whether it be by means of ditching and fighting, or gym and half-assed hangouts. And fuck, you were so jealous, because he was the example of a good ending; an ending where the protagonist finds his people. Sure, maybe he was still shy, so painfully fucking shy that he threatened to crush all strangers that even contemplated walking up to harrass him with some sly comment about his past. But at least he had a back bone.

Unlike you. You who.. had a painfully similar past, minus the good ending.

But that was the past! Here you are now, just two months away from graduation! Exams coming up, an easy ace for someone like you; there should be no hindrance for a smart girl like you!

Right?

"I'm sorry, Miss (L/N), I know it's very close to finals week, but This student needs your help. If you don't help him he may not even graduate. I'm sure a good student like you wouldn't want your peers to suffer, right?" Remember that backbone thing you didn't have? Well, your teachers, counselors, and principal did. All gathered up in one room with those sorry ass smiles. Signs they all knew their school system was beyond fucked up for students. It left no consideration for their personal lives to take place; and conveniently, you didn't have a personal life.

You gave your signature fake smile, that sappy shit you gave your parents when you were too exhausted to hear about their divorce. With a practiced tone you replied, "I completely understand, which student is it that needs help?"

All the teachers sighed in relief, glad they didn't have to sacrifice their practice break times, lunches, and after school hours to focus on a troublesome student. But at your question, they seemed to lock up a bit. Collectively, their gazes drew back to the principal, who sighed deeply.

You bug the inside of your cheek subtly, praying to yourself it wasn't some fucking dunce.

— You wanted to slam your head between your locker and the locker door until you successfully knocked yourself stupid; there was just no way your luck was this fucking twisted. Before you stood every single member of that stupid delinquent friend group who you secretly think are the coolest people ever.

You're forced to stare at them with your signature blank stare and arms behind your back, regretting all your life choices and decisions as you spoke your next words, "K, König, can I speak with you?"

A guy, who wasn't even König, scoffed while looking at you up and down; his fingers crushing a cigarette against the hard concrete wall.

"What do you want with him? Think you can fix him? Fucking dork."

He is absolutely perfect the way he is

Was what you wanted to say, but you fought it back with a mental gut punch, "N..no, it's about graduation."

This seemed to catch König's attention for once, the guy, a fucking beast of am 18 year old, leaned forward. His pretty blue eyes stared you up and down very slowly (albeit eyes never meeting yours) before he took a few steps forward, hands shoved deeper in his pockets. He didn't even bother to wear the uniform, just wearing a random jacket and some scuffed shoes.

"Hnm, I'll be back." König glanced at his friends momentarily before walking off, a silent gesture for you to follow. Now that you thought of it, this was your first time hearing König's voice properly. It was surprisingly..unique, an unexpected pitch and wild rasp to it that gave the impression that he was still just a punk ass kid like you, despite being so massive.

Eventually the two of you had gone to the benches, usually reserved for lunch or after school studying. His hand scratched at his jaw, some acne scars there, fading slowly but surely. König's eyes still didn't meet yours, locked on to the passing clouds, "They told me I couldn't graduate."

He spoke so suddenly it snapped your out of your observant daze. You cleared your throat, nodding slightly. His eyes narrowed, not toward you, but toward something else. "What do you think?"

You pursued your lips slightly, a low hum resonating from within your throat as you watched the same cloues he did, "You have three C's, English, maths, and Language Lab and two A's in German and P.E."

Your voice was soft as you spoke, much softer than the rough voices of the delinquents König was typically around. It caught him off guard slightly, forcing his eyes to slowly meet yours through his peripheral, relieved that you weren't looking at him.

"It will be rough, but I can help you." You finally spoke with a smile, the reflection of clouds bubbled in your eyes, a small smile that defeated your usual fake one popping through.

König leaned off the bench with a sudden huff, "Ja, okay, I understand. Danke."

You smirked very slightly, knowing he wasn't looking at you, you could see the tips of his ears turn red. So he really was shy.

"So," You cleared your throat, following his lean off the bench, "When do we start?"

"Tonight, my place." He would dryly state, "Give me your number."

— It was hours later, you were starving. By the time you got home and cleaned up, your parents were still fighting; an obvious sign that dinner was not happening tonight. Nothing different from the usual, you would just eat an early breakfast tomorrow. Tonight, you had to tutor König.

He surprisingly didn't live very far from you, a small house right next to a corner convenience store you frequented. Upon knocking on the door you immediately noticed all the lights were off, no cars in the drive way, almost as if it was empty. You rubbed your hands together hoping you didn't get the wrong house.

After a few seconds you went to knock again only for the door to swing open, in front of you stood König, his hair slightly damp as he was dressed in some casual clothes his eyes not meeting yours as he held the foor open for you. "Hallo."

Your brows raised briefly and you moved under his arm to get inside, "Hello."

Being around a person so comfortable with himself made you forget how to be a prim girl, how to be proper and polite. You could tell he was picking up on that as he lead you to the living room. Both of you seating at the coffee table, butts to the carpeted ground.

You took out your bag and spread your books out, Math, English, and Language Lab. Your brows furrowed a bit, Language Lab was an extension of english, so you could just focus on only two subjects to not overwhelm him.

Instinctively, you brought your thumb to your lips to nimble on while you considered this option. Your reaction causing him to pause and chuckle, "You have bad habits."

A statement that made your hand shove into your pocket, "O- oh, sorry about that."

König shook his head, his back leaning against the couch lazily, "No, I am just surprised. They say you are miss perfect."

You scoffed through your nose slightly, shoving the language lab book back into your bag, "No such thing as perfect."

Except you

The thought came across your mind so mischievously you couldn't help but snicker slightly. You then opened up the first English page, "So, because you have two English classes, we will do that first."

As the evening went on with your careful instructions and reassurance directed toward him, König couldn't help but notice your cautious smile. Your pretty smile, your nails that were carefully manicured, all aside from that one thumb that was slightly bitten from your terrible habit.

You were..pretty. The insecure bits of König couldn't help but feel a throb in his chest, remembering the chubby kid he used to be and how much that kid deserved a pretty girl in his life. A girl who was not only pretty, but smart.

Unlike a teacher, everything you explained to him made sense; it wasn't some regurgitated bullshit, but things you made examples of from his every day life. You showed him the literary devices that took place before him and he recognized it. König always knew he wasn't dumb, he cried often thinking about how the school system made him feel dumb. But having the very things he struggled with illustrated so clearly for him, it was like a godsend.

Before the two of you knew it, three hours had gone by, and it was time for you to go home. By now, your fake smile was completely faded as he walked you to the door, replaced by something much sweeter and gentler.

"Danke." König blurted as you stepped out.

You smiled again, your eyes finally meething his, and vice versa, "For what?"

"I don't think that.. anyone else could've taught me like you did. I hope we do this often." König seemed at ease with you, not the pent up punk ass who liked to punch walls and eat expired pop rocks with his friends in the parking lot.

You very shyly nodded after a long stare between you two, "Uhm..I..hope so too."

Another long stare before you shyly scampered home like a shy cat. As he watched your fading form, König leaned against the door frame with crossed arms. A sigh rolling out of him as a hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Haa..mein herz.."

It seemed he found himself a little reason to study.

— "You know, I never thought König was the type to like prim girls. Always thought he hated stuck up people."

Weeks had gone by since the first study "date". Emphasis on the date, because these definitely were dates. At least to König, who sat with his dumbass friends and watched you from afar. Eyes locked to any guy who would even consider approaching you. He made it a personal promise that he would curbstomp any person within a five meter radius of you, you were just that pretty to him. Only for him.

Not only did his grades take A massive jump to A's and B's within the first two weeks, but so did his reputation. People were often bewildered by the sight of you two walking around together. Some teachers even approached you, genuinely worried he was threatening you. Offering some bullshit on how they would help you if you needed it.

As if.

You were completely smitten. Learning bits and pieces of his life throughout various daily study dates. How his dad left, and his mom works overtime to support him and herself. How König struggles in school because of his ADHD.

He was so interesting, a kaleidoscope of perspective and rapid thoughts that you had gradually learned to acceptand show interest in. And your study methods?

Well to be fair, studying 5 days a week is a little intense. Even for an honors student like you. It could be..suggested that not all of your study sessions were.. just studying.

What can you say?

You're an active, "hands-on" learner.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hellllo, I saw this post from you about the 141 with a reader with past sa, and I wanted to ask if you could do one where reader mentions something that happened to them, without realizing it was sa (pls with König, I just love him). I hope this is ok for you to write

Ooh that’s a good one! I love writing for him honestly!

tw: mentions of sexual assault, mild description but nothing graphic, trauma, comfort

König loves your voice. He especially loves all your stories of your life before him, all the highs and the lows, the victories and the pitfalls, and everything else in between. His favorite part of getting together with you, is learning about you. He just loves you so damn much.

So when you’re lying in bed with the TV playing and you’re curled up against him, head on his chest, gently tracing the skin of his pecs under your fingers, he’s in heaven. He’s indulging your guilty pleasure of watching trash TV, he could never understand these dating shows but he gets a laugh out of seeing you get so worked up about them and maybe he gets a little invested too.

“Ugh poor girl.” You sighed watching the couples argue, “I feel for her, my ex was the same way.”

“How do you mean?” He’s running his fingers over your arm, drawing figures absentmindedly,

“He was just kind of manipulative and gas-lighty, always got what he wanted.” You shrugged, “Like, he’d initiate things and I wouldn’t be interested or I’d be too tired and he’d still keep trying and we’d wind up doing it. Like I said always got his way.” You seemed nonchalant about what you said, so much so that it took him a second to process what you said.

And then König’s blood went cold and his feather touches slowed to a halt,

“Schatz…” he breathed, his heart starting to race, he wasn’t sure how to handle this new information. Were you aware and just putting on a brave face? Or…

“Don’t sweat it, Köni, for all his aggressive persuasion he was a shitty lover.” You chuckled, confused as to why he stopped stroking your skin, yet as the words came out of your mouth paired with his reaction, you started to wonder if you messed up.

“Liebling, is that true?” His voice was even as he continued rubbing your arm, he moved to sit up and brought you with him,

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’m over that asshole anyway.”

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” He turned to face you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face

“About what, my ex?”

“About his ‘persuasiveness’.” His tone hardened as the word came out of his mouth, he’s not big on sugar coating, but this is delicate and should be handled carefully,

“Not really? I mean, I’ve mentioned it to a friend before but that’s about it.”

He watched you carefully, eyes tracking every centimeter of your face, watching, waiting for a reaction, waiting for a response.

“Why do you ask?”

He stayed silent, still watching you. Waiting for you to piece things together, waiting to catch you should you realize what you just said. He watched gears turning in your head but still you struggled, is it worth bringing this up and helping you realize it? Would it do more harm than good to protect you from the truth? He wondered if a part of you realized but you’re protecting yourself from the truth so it’s forcing your mind to stop from connecting the dots. Is he even equipped to deal with the fallout after you piece it together? Would it be worse to encourage you to speak to a professional?

“I’m just worried, liebling, what you’ve described isn’t exactly a good thing.” He hated picking and choosing his words so carefully, it only made his anxiety worse and he worries he wouldn’t be able to help you with how busy his own mind is. But for you, he’d do anything. Whether it’s choosing his words carefully, gently guiding you to a point of realization, or finding your ex and breaking every bone in his body.

“Well, yeah, I know that but…” and then it hit you, he watched your eyes widen as the gears all clicked into place, “it wasn’t like that, König. That’s different.”

“It really isn’t, schatz. I’m so sorry, but it’s not different at all.” His voice is so soft that you wouldn’t have heard him if you were so close. He pulled you in to sit on his lap, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly against his chest. He’s got your head tucked under his chin, one hand pressing your head against him, his fingers running through your hair,

“That’s not what happened.” Your voice was small as your own arms came up to wrap around his back, your body preparing you for the tears you were fighting to shed,

“It’s ok, liebling, I’ve got you. You’ll always be safe here.”

[xmalereader]

Simon “Ghost” Riley Incorrect Quotes

M!Reader:*Slams marriage documents on the table*

Simon Riley: What is this?

M!Reader: Oh you know—standard contract bullshit…

[moonlight1110]

My Best Friend, König

bestfriend!König x reader ; college!au

Your best friend, the person you trust the most in the world to protect you, and most importantly, be there for your needs <3

Tags: afab!reader, König x reader smut, throat fucking, blowjobs n shit, smut to fluff, far from canon König, quick read, college!au, secret lovers, aftercare, no german aside from the petnames bc i dont wanna embarrass myself, not proofread

Notes: exams are done so i can finally shake sum asss 😩, i have so many ideas i wanna write for simon and konig im going insane, but expect that in the next few days or weeks, love yall <3

You were always known as the loud mouth. The most bubbly person anyone's ever met, and it was often meant as a compliment. You always knew how to light up a room the moment you walked in and it just seemed like no one ever had anything bad to say about you.

It seemed like you were able to catch anyone's eye, and that was reflected by the amount of attention you got whenever you would walk around campus. Turning heads and whispers followed you whenever you went, and that was especially true in your classes. But with your extroverted nature, it was a question in everyone's mind why your best friend was the total opposite of you.

König was your best friend, it was like you were both attached at the hip with how you never went anywhere without him to the point that people thought you were a couple. You two would debunk these rumors of course but that just showed how close you two were.

König was quiet, introverted, and intimidating, he was like the perfect bodyguard and that was one of the reasons you loved being around him, because of how safe he made you feel and how he always made sure you were okay, of course it was natural that you'd return the favor.

"K-König... Wait..." A soft moan slips past your lips, you can't hold it in with how good König was fucking you on his tongue right now. He chuckles, humming against your weeping cunt as he pinned your hips down on the mattress, one hand digging into the flesh of your hip as the other rubbed circles right on your twitching clit.

"You want me to stop, meine Schatz?" His voice dripped with desire and cockiness, knowing he was the only one who could see you in such a vulnerable and fucked out position with your legs trembling and draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you open on his tongue and fingers.

"No... No, don't stop!" you cried out helplessly, tugging at his hair. He growled, sliding his tongue out from your cunt with a satisfied moan from the pressure building in his scalp.

"On your knees, let me fuck that pretty mouth, meine Liebe..." He groaned, gently pulling your hand away from his hair and kissing your palm as he led you off the bed and on your knees in front of him, making space for you between his legs as he stroked himself in front of you. Up and down, slowly.

He was big and it made your mouth water as you inched closer on your knees. You couldn't help the small gasp that slipped when you slowly wrapped your delicate fingers around him.

"That's it... You know what to do..." He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with your hair to encourage you while he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Scheiße... Such a good fucking girl..." König's voice seemed to deepen at the feeling of your soft hands slowly pumping him, his grip on your hair becoming just a little bit tighter as he moaned your name, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs when König looked down at you, his eyes blown out with his lip between his teeth and it was clear he was resisting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, force his dick right into the back of your throat with the way you were doing such a good job for him.

When you slowly wrapped your lips around him, he moaned breathlessly, his shoulders slumping at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You couldn't help but close your eyes as you started to take him deeper, it was just too much, but he didn't like that at all.

"No, no... Keep your pretty eyes open... Keep looking at me..." He tugged on your hair lightly, forcing you to wince at the pressure but you followed his words of course. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the sight of König's chest heaving softly, his mouth opened just a bit as he groaned.

"Ja, that's it... Good girl..." He chuckled, humming as his grip on your hair softened, replacing it with a gentle massage on your scalp as you took him deeper, keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

Your started to bob your head in a steady rhythm, pumping the rest of the length you couldn't take. König, as much as he tried his best to keep his composure, was a mess for you. His chest was heaving and low growls would rumble from his chest every once in a while when his hips would buck into your mouth ever so slightly.

"Can I fuck this pretty mouth, baby? Please..." He pleaded as if he was even waiting for an answer, almost sounding like a drawn out whine when he started to buck his hips into your mouth, he just couldn't help himself, he couldn't resist you at all when you looked so pretty for him.

Your hands found purchase on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he started to push his cock deeper into your throat, making you gag on him.

"Feels so fucking good, Liebling... I can't help myself..." He moaned as he threw his head back, he was getting rougher now, giving you his cock deeper and deeper as he whispered his praises, telling you how good you are and how much he'll reward his darling after he's done.

Your jaw was starting to hurt, and despite his early instructions, you couldn't help but close your eyes as he pushed your head down with a deep groan. Your fingers were digging into his flesh that you were certain it'd bruise by the morning, but even with how your jaw was starting to get sore and with how your tears were staining your cheeks, you just fucking loved it.

"Shh, shh... You're doing so good, Schatz..." He cooed with a mean chuckle as he wiped your tears away with his thumb. What a gentle man your friend was, carefully pulling your head from his cock as he praised you. "Breathe, baby..." He whispered as he caressed your cheeks, letting you catch your breath as your hands relaxed on his thighs.

"Sorry... I couldn't stop myself..." He apologized after a few moments, carefully picking you up from the cold floor and onto his lap in a bridal position almost. "Was I too rough, Liebling?" He whispered affectionately, gently caressing your thighs as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you nestled your head against his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle" You laughed quietly, relaxing in the warmth his body provided while his hands soothed your thighs and hips.

"You're right... You did so well, like you always do" He chuckled against your hair, kissing your head with a hum.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling... You deserve it"

[mehidktbh]

I've Got My Eye On You

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After one incident of fainting while training. Your Lieutenant takes the role of keeping you fed and hydrated.

Warning: Swearing, war/military stuff, ED-related symptoms (??), fainting and passing out, guns, Ghost flirts with you... which includes pet names 👀 and training (punching/fighting)

A/N: Finally got my mac book working and fixed after waiting a whole 5 months, istg it's always Apple...

Taglist: @fatedeniedhope

You stand there watching the brutal nasty fight happen in front of your eyes, watching as two men go up against each other. The grunting can be heard amongst the cheering of other soldiers. Studying their tactics and every move as they attempt to knock the other person down, hands flying with forceful punches and hard kicks as one man finally gets pinned. Someone shouting next to you as he tries to motivate the fallen soldier to get up, his voice falls deaf to his ears as he taps out.

"Alright!" The two men head back to the line of soldiers who stand up proud and tall, listening to the yelling drill Sargent. "I want Y/N and Jet up front!" You snap out of your thoughts when someone pats your back, indicating for you to step up. Your vision is unsettled and you can feel the whole world spinning, you take your stand, knuckles clenched and legs tensed.

Staring directly at the man in front as he holds the same starting position. Through the split second, you hear the whistle blow as he begins to circle you slowly, his mind set on only beating you as he starts to wonder why you stand so weak. You continue to stumble around, trying to copy his feet as they overlap each other moving around you.

Your ears block out the yelling and the screams which your team urges you on. It all becomes too much when your drill Sargent spits his voice at you, forcing you to get in there more. But it falls deaf to your ears, the underwhelming pressure and heat are all too much, you watch in confusion as the guy across you looks at you with concern. But there's nothing to say as you stumble over, tripping over your godman leg before you plough straight into the ground. There's not much to see or hear as the sun is blocked from your eyes, you're met with the blurry vision of Price as he mouths something off to the drill Sargent.

But that was months ago and now you feel stupid for letting yourself get that low. There's that worry that hangs over the rest of your task force as they still ask you questions about that day. But never your Lieutenant as he instead worries in his own (special) way...

♡ ♡ ♡

There's a little knock on your door, harsh but not too hard you jump out of your skin, soft enough to know it's your Lieutenant. "Come in," You say not looking up from your desk as you continue to work, the endless paperwork won't do itself. "How are you doing...?" He seems a bit awkward when asking that question like he normally doesn't ask people how they're doing.

"I'm alright, need something?" You question turning around in your seat to find him sitting next to you on your cot, surprised at how he moved so fast. "I know you haven't eaten so I brought something." He roughly said, your eyes glistening with the urge to instantly rip open the grey plastic bag. You can nearly see a box of some sort sitting perfectly there, a neat knot tied together on top to keep the surprise inside.

You drop the pen and your mind from doing the paperwork, turning away from the pile of mess and instead facing Ghost as he begins to open the plastic bag. "You didn't have to." You say shyly, seeming appreciative as he shakes his head in return, "No. You need to eat, Y/N." You don't say anything and instead, just nod your head in appreciation and also agreeing with him in some way. Stalking his movements as he carefully takes the food out of the bag. His eyes catch your hungry craved eyes, a smirk hidden behind his mask.

♡ ♡ ♡

Looking down at the cards you sigh again, "Got nothing." "Ha! Ace and ten," Soap said cheerfully after beating you for the tenth time tonight. But you would never say that you were never in the game from the start, despite Soap explaining the game you had no fucking idea how to play.

"Give it'ere." Price said, catching the cards as Soap threw the pack to him, his hands instantly got to shuffling the deck. Gaz sat next to you on the floor as Price sat in front of him, Soap sitting in front of you. A perfect circular Arrangement with everyone's attention on Price as he shuffled the cards in the same movement and technique as he's been doing for years.

Through your eyes averted to Ghost in the corner of the room, his body leaning on the wall as he guards the window, his eyes scanning the premier. So you decide to walk over, let your Lieutenant take a break and play some cards. After such a rough day with Gaz nearly getting shot in his shpulder the team decided to camp out fpor the night.

Letting all the adrenaline you guys felt before melting into the floor and walls of this small dingy 'safe house'. "I got it, sir." Ghost looks over at you, your smile is reassuring but after a day like today, he seemed like the only one who still wasn't relaxed. He nods after a second of staring at you, picking his gun up from leaning on the wall but he stops right before his elbow touches yours.

"Had any water today?" You hum quietly, not looking back before you take over his leaning position on the wall but he still stood there. After a bunch of shuffling in which you thought was Price with his cards a cold water bottle touched your arm. Ghost stood there arm reached out as he nudged you on, signalling for you to take the bottle.

"I'm alright-" "Take it." Your eyes flicked between the bottle and his piercing eyes, fuck you could feel how much he was persuading you. "That's an order, Y/N." You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly as you take the bottle from his hand, he continues to watch you gulp the cold refreshing liquid down. His hand pushing up in a motion as he signalled for you to continue drinking when your lips were about to leave.

But after a while, he was satisfied, nodding his head when you could finally pull away. You were about to hum back thanks before he spoke slowly, the last word came out deathly quietly as you couldn't understand what he had just said.

"Good, girl..."

[girlwitheconverse]

STRAWBERRIES

╰┈➤ KEEGAN P. RUSS

Pairing: Keegan x singlemom!reader

Genre: fluff

Story type: one shot

Word count: 2k

TW: unexpected pregnancy

masterlist

You take a sip of your iced coffee, well deserved you must say, as you look around the coffee shop finally relaxing after a stressing day.

Then you remember that it’s still 10 in the morning and that your work break ends in ten minutes.

The life of a single mother of a toddler of four isn’t easy by any means but you wouldn’t change it for the world, you love Ellie, your daughter, too much to even think of a life without her. You remember all the emotion you felt the day you discovered you were pregnant: shock, fear, and excitement; in this precise order. Ellie’s father probably stopped at shock, because the day after you told him you were pregnant you received a break-up message and he ghosted you.

He disappeared. Completely. Even moved out of his apartment.

Your parents? Like the religious people they are…They kicked you out of the house because you had a kid outside marriage! How outrageous of you.

“Sorry? Is this seat free?” a deep voice makes you come back with your mind on earth, you look at the man and damn is he handsome. Black hair, blue eyes, athletic…Definitely your type. Before answering you look around: the place is almost empty and there are plenty of free tables. Is he…Does he like me? Is the first explanation that comes to your mind but you can’t be sure of it: maybe he just doesn’t like to sit alone.

You nod with a polite smile “Yes.”

The mysterious handsome man sits in front of you and places his cappuccino on the table. The air between you two is awkward so you decide to say something.

Because standing up and leaving seems mean.

But before you can say anything he speaks, “My name is Keegan.”

You blink a few times, then smile “I’m Y/n”

He’s definitely trying to flirt with me.

“I’m not usually one to flirt like this so forgive me if I'm straightforward but that's just how I am.” He says, leaving you shocked. “But…I think you’re beautiful”

You notice his ears getting red and smile at the cuteness. “Thank you, Keegan.”

When was the last time a man flirted with you? You can’t even remember. Every time you go out you have Ellie glued to the hip and that makes most men run away. You’d be lying if you said you didn't like the attention.

“Would you…like to go on a date with me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes, he is indeed very straightforward.

“I…” You try to buy yourself time by taking the last sip of your coffee, should I say yes? He’s totally my type…But what if he drops me as soon as I tell him I have a daughter? Maybe I should just see how the date goes and then decide how to procede. Yes. Definitely that. “Why not?” you say with a smile.

He smiles too and Oh God, his smile is so pretty you feel like you’ve already fallen in love. He hands you his phone to put your number in it, you do so and then stand up.

“I need to go back to work, it was a pleasure meeting you, Keegan…I’ll wait for your text then.” You smile at him and walk outside the cafe, already calling your best friend.

“Girl, I need you to babysit Ellie someday…I don’t know when but I’m going on a date with this super handsome guy and-” before you can finish talking your best friend screams.

“Going out with a guy? An handsome one? You? Damn I’ll babysit Ellie anytime! You go get that D while me and your daughter have a tea party while we talk shit about Cinderella, never liked that bitch anyway.” You laugh and can’t help but feel grateful for having her as best friend.

A week later

“Do I look cute?” You ask as you show your best friend your outfit “it’s a picnic date, I wanted to stay on theme”

“You really went for the slutty sundress, uh” she says with a smirk, your eyes shoot wide and you look down at Ellie, hoping she didn't hear the swearword.

“Mommy pretty!” She says as she hugs your legs, you pick her up and kiss her round cheek, chuckling as you need to clean your lipstick off her cheek.

“Mommy loves you.” you say before placing her on the ground, “Mommy is going out with a friend okay? I’ll see you later.”

The doorbell rings and you hold back a scream of excitement before picking your purse and walking outside, making sure that Keegan couldn't see Ellie from the door.

“H-hi.” You stutter as you see his outfit, a white t-shirt and brown pants, he’s holding a picnic basket, nothing spectacular but he looks so handsome. His bicep is so big.

He smiles and you notice him looking at you from head to toe, “Hi…Let’s go, I know you can’t wait to see my secret spot.” He says with a chuckle and you two start walking side by side. You and him have been texting each other for the past week and you discovered that he’s in the military, it now makes sense why he has such perfect physique, you also told him about your job as a banker.

As you walk, you chat about anything and everything, from your favorite books to the most embarrassing moments of your childhood. Keegan is easy to talk to, and his warm laughter puts you at ease. You can't help but wonder what he would be like with Ellie, but you quickly shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it's too early to think about that.

The spots he brings you to is a beautiful park with green grass and flowers, “it’s beautiful!” You say as you look around while he puts a blanket over the grass.

“Next time I’m taking you to the beach.” He says as you both sit down on the blanket.

“I love the beach!” You say excited, it’s been so long since you felt like this…Like a woman and not only a mother. “And I love sushi too…” You say as he takes the food out of the basket.

“Yeah, you already told me that a few times by message.” He says with a chuckle, remembering how you spent more than twenty messages talking about sushi.

“It was my worst craving when I was-” You stop before you can say too much, you still haven't told him about Ellie “When I was sick a few months ago, but the doctor said I couldn't eat any.”

He shakes his head and hands you a pair of chopsticks, “Oh, I almost forgot” he says as he picks from the basket a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

“The wine too?” You say shocked but with a smile on your face.

“Of course.” Keegan puts some wine in a glass and hands it to you, “to this date.”

“Hoping that this will be the first of many.” You add before you take a sip of the wine.

You two spend an hour eating and chatting before you lay down on the blanket with a sigh and a smile “I’m so full!”

“Even for these?” Keegan asks as he takes out of the basket strawberries that have been dipped in chocolate.

“I’m never full for these” you say with a chuckle.

“Say ah…” He says as he picks a strawberry and places it near your mouth, you blush but let him feed you the strawberry.

The sweet taste of chocolate and strawberry floods your mouth, followed by the warmth of Keegan's gaze. You blush profusely, your heart pounding in your chest as he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You sit up and pick a strawberry, “say ah…” you say as you feed him the strawberry, he laughs but lets you feed him. “ops, you’ve got chocolate here” you say before kissing his lips. He’s frozen at first and you think you’ve gone too far, but then he places his hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss.

The kiss is a heady, intoxicating rush that seems to consume every part of you, spiraling through you and leaving you breathless, your senses filled to the brim. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and for that moment, nothing else matters. As you reluctantly pull away, still caught in the lingering haze of the kiss, you can't help the bubbling laughter that escapes your lips. Keegan, ever so stoic, stands there looking utterly bemused, that stunned expression on his face worth a thousand words.

"That was... unexpected," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a thrill running down your spine. There's a hint of a smile playing on his lips, a soft, almost shy admission that echoes your own feelings.

A month and a half later

You’re panicking as you text to Keegan, cancelling the date (one of the many you two had in the past month and half) last minute because your best friend just told you she has a fever and can’t babysit Ellie. Is also too late to call a a babysitter, so you don’t have any other choice if not to stay at home with Ellie…Ellie, whom you still haven't told anything to Keegan.

I’m getting deployed tomorrow after lunch, we won’t see each other for two month after that…You really can’t come?

I’m sorry but my stomach hurts so much, I just got my period :(

Then I’m coming at your place with some chocolate ice cream and chips

You really don’t have to

Too bad I'm already in my car.

You sigh you look at the text and sit on the couch, damn him and his perfect personality. Maybe it’s the universe telling you to stop hiding the truth from him, to stop ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Mommy look!” Ellie says as she shows you the drawing she just made: some yellow on top of the paper and then blue on the bottom, “It’s sea!” With that you realize that you were holding the drawing upside down.

“Oh my! It’s so pretty! This definitely goes on the fridge” you say as you stand up to put her drawing on the fridge, next to your favorite drawing she made: the one with the two of you.

“Yay! Mommy likes it!” She says as she jumps up and down happily, you pick her up and kiss her cheek.

“Listen, Ellie, mommy’s friend is coming here and you need to be a good girl okay?”

“Auntie?” she immediately thinks of your best friend.

“No, not Auntie, another friend.” As soon as you say those words the doorbell rings.

You place Ellie down and walk towards the door, when you see Keegan standing outside with his hands full of snacks your heart breaks because of all the lies you told him but now is the moment of the truth. Will he run away? Will he get mad? You couldn't really blame him if he did so, not after all the lies.

You smile, “Thank you, really but…I need to tell you something…”

“What’s wrong?” He asks worried, but before you can speak a little voice behind you speaks and a little head pokes out the door.

“Mommy friend came?” Ellie asks as she looks up at Keegan with her big eyes. The man looks at you confused and you give him an awkward smile.

“I think it’s better if you come in.” You say as you let him in, Keegan enters and places the snack on the coffe table in front of the couch in the living room.

You place your hands on Ellie’s shoulder and take a deep breath, “Keegan, this is Ellie…My daughter”

To say that he’s shocked is an understatement, he stutters for the first time since you have started dating him, “w-what?”

“I shouldn’t have hidden this from you and i’m so sorry for my stupid actions I was just…afraid I guess at the thought of losing you.” You admit and Ellie looks up at you with a confused expression, you don’t want her to think that you don’t love her.

“You thought I’d leave you because you have a daughter?” He says even more shocked than before.

“That’s what most men do when I tell them.”

“I am not the type to do something like that, I love you and the fact that you have a daughter? Just makes me love you more” your heart flutters as he drops the l-word and your cheek flush red.

“You love me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Damn if I do!”

“I love you too…And I was so scared of losing you, I’m so sorry…” You say with a smile, he smiles back and then crunches down to Ellie’s height, smiling at her.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Keegan, mommy’s…friend” Keegan says with a smile as he holds out his hand towards Ellie.

“Hi I’m Ellie” Your daughter says as she puts her small hands in his, shaking it clumsily.

It was such a sweet moment and you were almost tearing up when, “Are you my daddy?” Ellie suddenly says. You choke on your own saliva and Keegan laughs, shaking his head.

“No…Not yet at least” Keegan says as he smiles up at you.

“Watch Mulan with me?” Ellie changes subject immediately, very much toddler like, and pulls Keegan towards the couch. You can’t help but laugh as you look at the two of them playing together, feeling like you just found the missing piece of your puzzle, which is now perfect.

Ugh, this probably sucks and I’m sorry but I recently got back to writing and I’m trying to stay consistent to it :(

If you liked the story don’t forget to like, reblog and maybe even leave a comment :)

And remember, my inbox is always open for requests! even anonymous ones (emoji anon too!)

[iblameashley]

Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Civilian | Male | Gay

3,800~ words

Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.

Follow up to Something to look forward to

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.

Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.

So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.

And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.

“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.

“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.

Price was having none of it.

“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”

Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.

You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.

“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”

“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”

You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.

“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.

An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.

“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.

With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.

“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”

“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.

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Day 4

Its been four days. Four.

You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.

“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.

“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.

You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.

“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.

“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.

You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.

“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.

You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.

“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.

“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.

“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.

By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.

“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.

“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.

Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.

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Day 10

You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.

There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.

“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.

“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.

Then again.

And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.

“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.

You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.

Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.

You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.

“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.

Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.

“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”

There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.

“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.

“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.

You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.

“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.

Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.

The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.

“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”

There is was. You rolled your eyes.

“You're tolerable.” You shurg.

Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.

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Day 21

You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.

CRASH!

Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.

“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.

You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!

“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.

You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.

Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.

Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.

You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.

“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.

As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.

You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.

He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.

He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.

“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.

You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.

Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.

“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.

“'M fine.” He grumbles.

Liar.

“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.

You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.

“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.

“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.

You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.

“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.

“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.

Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

You don't look away from your phone.

“Don't have to.” You reply.

“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.

You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.

“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.

“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.

You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.

“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.

“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.

“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.

You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.

“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.

“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”

“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”

That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.

“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.

“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.

“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.

“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.

You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.

After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.

You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.

He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.

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Day 30

Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.

Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.

As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.

“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.

Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.

He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.

“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.

“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.

You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.

“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.

Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.

“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."

Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.

You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.

This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.

“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.

You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.

Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.

“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.

You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.

Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.

Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?

You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.

“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.

“'S fine.” Simon nodded.

As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.

“How about tonight?” He asked.

You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.

He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.

“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”

“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”

You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.

Staying another night.

With Simon.

You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.

[ghostandsoap]

Double-Sided

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Angst. Momma Peach and Poppa Price fight in front of the “kids.”

Word Count: 4.8k

“I would’ve if you had let me.”

She had been at it for hours.

She had a side stitch from standing for so long and the splitting pain in her head was only getting worse with each passing moment. The stress and tension of the room didn’t help, but there was no way she was giving in. 

She could do this all day, but it was beginning to take a toll on her.

Her brain felt like it was swimming in circles. The same movements repeated in her hand gestures and leg motions, and the same threats and words of venom spit from her mouth as she tried to break the man sitting in the middle of the room.

Apparently, he had the same kind of patience that she did. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.

He had stopped trying to fight the restraints of his chair long ago. He wasn’t getting up from where he sat without some outside help, which he most surely wouldn’t be getting. Ghost and Soap had been the ones to wrestle and tie him down, so the odds of him getting loose were slim to none.

It was well into the night. Darkness and stars had painted the sky hours ago. Too bad she and the rest of the Force were stuck inside trying to get answers out of this scumbag, who didn’t show any signs of giving up the information she wanted from him.

Notorious criminal was a basic definition of his character. He and his posse of “colleagues” had been tied to four different chemical warfare incidents in the last several months. “Colleagues” was a term that he so leisurely used, but she hardly considered them to be friendly co-workers. 

He and his crew had designed and created a chemical weapon that had been used in these chemical attacks over the course of the last several months. They had only just now caught up to him, because he was just as good as staying under the radar as he was making his mark. 

Word was that they had sent a “special shipment” of this lab-made weapon to an official location, but the destination was unknown – hence why Peach had been grilling him for half the night at this point. They needed to find the shipment and intercept it before it reached where it was intended to go. A mass exposure to this chemical weapon could mean a lot of damage and fatalities. 

Time wasn’t on her side, and he was stalling and wasting as much of it as he could. 

She was the best interrogator of the team. Each member had their own strengths when it came to squeezing answers out of a person of interest. 

Soap had a certain way with words that could cause the subject to unintentionally give up information. Gaz was cool and convincing, and Price had a temper on him that could shake up pretty much anyone. Ghost was just plain scary – he could merely walk in the room and some people would fold immediately.

But Peach had a little bit of it all. She was convincing and smooth, but could also turn angry and loud. She had it down to a science, but this was her hardest attempt yet. 

Usually she slapped them around a little bit. It sped up the process and you wouldn’t believe the people that caved just because they didn’t want to be beat up by such a sweet-looking woman. Other times though, it slowed everything down. It was a risk that usually had to be weighed once she was in the middle of things and had scoped it out.

But Price had given her once simple command before she began her interrogation.

“Whatever you do, don’t lay a finger on him.”

She had whined and protested, begging her Captain to give her the freedom to get her hands bloody if she needed it. It wasn’t like she ever really hurt anybody that bad. She could control herself much more than if Price went in there and put his hands on the guy.

Still, John feared that if she used her knuckles instead of her head, then they’d never get anything out of him.

Right now she was trying the convincing approach, although she wasn’t getting anywhere. In the last several hours, she had probably asked him what felt like about 100 questions, and he hadn’t answered a single one. He dodged every question and demand and brushed off every insult, threat, and comment. 

She circled him for what had to have been the millionth time. She was sick of looking at his face, and she could only imagine he was tired of seeing her too.  

“That shipment must be goin’ somewhere real important if you’re this tight lipped about it,” She persuaded, her hands shoving into the pockets of her cargo pants. “Must be headed for someone mighty special.”

There had been a few times where she was positive that he was about to give something up, but then he’d catch himself and change the subject completely. 

“That accent…” He rumbled, and she didn’t even bother resisting to roll her eyes. “You’re a long way from home, huh?”

She could only describe his voice as snakelike. It had a certain pitch to it, and all of his “S” sounds were drawn out like a hiss. 

A few times, she entertained his counter questions. If it brought her closer to getting something out of him, then she didn’t mind giving up some personal information of her own. It was a fair trade off, if you will.

“Haven’t been home in a long time,” She answered. “I can’t seem to ditch the accent.”

“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.

This had been the cycle the entire time. She would ask a question and he would change the subject. She was beyond frustrated because nothing was working.

The room that they were in was stuffy. The air was warm, thick, and it felt like she was breathing soup with every inhale she took. Beads of sweat lined her forehead and dripped down the middle of her back, despite the fact that she had stripped down to a tank and her most comfortable set of pants. 

The room was straight out of a movie. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, and there was hardly any real light coming from the singular LED overhead. Based on how it flickered and flashed, it was clear that it had been quite some time since the bulb had been changed.

There was a singular window that offered observation inside, and it connected the adjacent room. The glass was tinted from the inside, so the eyes that were inside, couldn’t see outside.

Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had been watching this whole time from the opposite side, and they were growing more discouraged by the minute.

“She’s not getting anywhere, Captain. He’s barely said anything useful.” Ghost remarked, who was saying what everyone else was thinking. 

Price sighed. They could only do this for so long before they would just be wasting precious time on a dead end. Price didn’t want to pull her out because that was giving up in her mind. But he couldn’t stand to watch her keep doing this.

While she was hiding it well, he knew she was as distressed as could be on the inside. He had seen her in her more visible moments of stress and anxiety, and he knew she was close to the beginning of a breakdown. 

“Let’s give her another half hour,” Price advised. “Maybe she can turn this around.”

They were all tired. It had been a long day and now they were already well into an even longer night. They needed as much rest as they could possibly get before coming up with a new plan and starting over. They didn’t have enough time to try and do this again. 

It turned out that Price’s extra thirty minutes had dwindled down to about two minutes.

“This is gonna go a whole lot easier if you just tell me now,” Her voice lowered, her tone smooth and dark. “Where’s the shipment bein’ sent to?” 

Of course, he wasn’t going to answer that. She was mean and she was tough, but he had spent years perfecting keeping his cool under this kind of pressure. 

“That Captain of yours has it bad for you, doesn’t he?”

A thunderclap of dread cracked in Price’s chest and vibrated to the rest of his body. If there was one way to set her off, it was to bring him into it. She didn’t totally lose it right away, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was close by that comment alone.

John knew better than to look at Soap, Ghost or Gaz, but he knew they were watching him like a hawk. They were waiting for a reaction, but they surely weren’t going to get one. 

“Not a word.” Price instructed, still staring ahead through the dirty glass.

They all jumped, quickly looking in different directions as if they hadn’t been waiting for some kind of tell that this guy was getting under his skin.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Peach and Price had been seeing each other. They weren’t really trying to hide it, but they also weren’t going out of their way to share it publicly. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were curious, but too afraid to ask. They were entitled to privacy, but it didn’t stop them from being nosy.

“What makes you say that?” She dared to ask through almost bared teeth.

“It’s in his eyes. He doesn’t look at his men the way he looks at you,” He said. “How long has that been going on?”

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.” She growled, and her pupils were expanded the way they were every time she was heated. 

This wasn’t going anywhere good. The second she laid hands on him, this entire thing was going to be blown.

“She’s gettin’ angry, Captain.” Soap advised, which was more of a warning than anything.

“Not yet.” Price held up a hand, giving her up until the last possible second to get something. 

She remembered John’s words. It was imperative to find out where the chemical weapon was going. There was no telling what they were planning to do with it and what kind of mass effect it would have. She couldn’t be the one to jeopardize that. She knew that entertaining his nagging questions would only make things worse.

“Where’s the shipment going?” She asked one final time.

He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his words rolling off in his most sinister tone.

“Fuck you.”

Shit.

Price saw the fire explode in her eyes, and he knew to react before she had a chance to.

“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.

Ghost was swift on his feet, entering the room and snatching Peach up before she even had a chance to do or say anything else. He hoisted her off the ground, ignoring her wriggling and shrills of protest. A blast of cold air hit her when he carried her back into the next room, which was barely helpful to her boiling blood.

Ghost wrestled to set her back on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her to fight her attempts to get back in the other room. She shrieked and pleaded for Ghost to let her go, and the good Captain only stepped in when Soap and Gaz had to assist Ghost in holding her down.

“That’s enough,” Price barked. “We’re done here.”

She ripped herself from Ghost’s hold at the sound of John’s voice, giving him a look so cold that it sent a shudder down his spine. Her anger was now laser focused on Captain Price, who wasn’t looking forward to the argument that was undoubtedly about to unfold.

“Let me at him, John, he’s gotta give in sometime.” She hissed, strands of her hair sticking to her damp forehead and the back of her neck.

He didn’t want to fight. He hated fighting with her. He especially didn’t want to get into a squabble with her in front of the rest of the team. But right now, he needed to be her captain first. This was her captain speaking, not her lover. 

This was one of those moments where it was unexplainably hard to be both.

He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she was doing everything that she could. He could praise her for her determination and hard work. At the same time, he couldn’t just sit and watch her work herself to death, especially for no reward. There was much more at stake, and her pride getting a little damaged was better than wasting all of her time trying to crack this nut. 

He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door in case she tried to force her way back inside. 

“You’re done for the night,” John commanded. “You’re not getting anywhere with him.”

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were standing aside, watching and listening without saying a word. It wasn’t often that Peach and Price got into it like this. But when they did, they knew not to interject or intervene.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She stood in front of him, her eyes squinted and jaw clenched as her accent drew thicker. 

Fire was burning in her eyes. The outline of the vein in her forehead was showing under her skin as her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second. 

He knew that she would take that the wrong way. He wasn’t insulting her attempt or her work, but she surely took it that way. She was tired from being up so long, irritated by the suspect’s behavior, and disappointed that all of this was for nothing. 

But at the moment, that wasn’t Price’s understanding of the situation. All he knew was that she was angry and questioning his judgment in front of his team, and he had to match her tone. 

“It means that this is a waste of time,” His voice grew louder, cheeks burning red. “We can’t afford any more dead ends.”

“And what do you suppose that I do in the meantime?” She challenged him, something she rarely ever did.

“You need to take a break. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene in the morning,” John barked. “That’s an order.”

She didn’t like that at all. She was determined to keep at this until she physically couldn’t anymore. This was just too important to give up on now. She shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of fury and disappointment causing her to be so vicious. 

She could stand here and argue with him for the rest of the night, but if there was anything that she knew would be a waste of time, it was arguing with John Price. 

“Yes, Captain.” She hissed, those two simple words dripping with venom as she pushed past him. 

He sighed as she stalked out of the room, no doubt going to find the furthest place to get some sleep. Price knew better than that though. She would be up the rest of the night stewing over this, prematurely blaming herself for something that hadn’t happened yet. 

He was already feeling guilty for his reaction. He knew better than to blow up at anyone like that…especially her. He was tired, she was tired, everybody was tired. His emotions in a state of exhaustion and irritability had gotten the best of him.

He knew what he needed to do – cool off and go fix this.

Ghost was the first one to speak up when he realized they really were finished for the night.

“What about him?” Ghost asked, tilting his head to reference the terrorist that was still tied down. 

“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.” 

That was Price’s way of telling him that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a criminal right now. That was also Price’s way of telling the three of them that they could do whatever they pleased with him at this point. Price didn’t ask any questions about what they intended to do with him. He didn’t need to know, and he trusted that they would leave him intact enough so he would see his day in the clink.

Price had other matters to tend to. A clammed up suspect wasn’t worth his time. Everybody needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy when the new day came around. 

Rest, reconcile, and regroup. That was his to-do list. He emphasized the second one, but cooling off needed to come first.

He left Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to their own devices, trudging off to find a quiet place to collect himself.

***

If there was one place that Price always knew where to look for her, it was the infirmary.

She was the only one of the team that was trained and qualified enough to effectively utilize the space. Most people avoided it, considering the times that they were there were usually because they were injured or coming down with something. Needless to say that, other than her, it wasn’t likely to catch anybody hanging around there for fun.

She excelled there. It was her main place of work and where her skills were most useful and appreciated. She was talented in many other ways, but her medical knowledge was just so precious and priceless. The force could scrape by without having someone who was perfectly trained in combat or computer hacking. But without a medic? Success was highly unlikely.

The infirmary was where she felt the most useful. She felt almost…safe there.

He knew that’s where she would be. She was probably standing at one of the cabinets, taking all of its contents out and organizing them back inside again. 

It was a meaningless task, just something to occupy her hands while her brain circled around itself. She would do this over and over until every corner of every box was flawlessly lined up and every label on every bottle was centered with the front of the cabinet. It was just to distract herself, and an attempt to keep her real feelings at bay. 

Not to mention, she was unbelievably angry with her captain.

John knew that she wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him. He prepared himself for another fight as he navigated his way to the infirmary. She would never yell or scream at him, but her voice always turned ice cold and stern when she was upset. He found that to be worse. He’d rather her scream in his face – that way he’d have no question about how she was feeling.

She also wasn’t one to talk about things right away. She liked time to simmer on it and at least cool off a little before talking it out. He had waited around 45 minutes before seeking her out. 45 minutes was all he could stand. The anxiety and anticipation of knowing she was alone and seething to herself was unbearable for him. 

While he was desperate to get this resolved, he also had to stand firm in his decision to pull her out of the interrogation. It might’ve upset her as his girlfriend, but it was the right move as her captain. He could acknowledge her disapproval while also defending his decision. 

He turned a corner and immediately noticed a glow of light coming from the open doorway of the infirmary. He could feel the energy from here. She certainly wasn’t in the best mood.

Nonetheless, he would rather have a conversation than move on without discussing it. 

Sure enough, there she was – facing the cabinet on the back wall, lining up boxes of gauze pads and organizing bottles of disinfectant. He could practically see the steam hissing out of her ears, like her head would blow off of her shoulders at any moment. 

He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his feet crossed over one another. She was oblivious to him standing there, another sign that her focus was elsewhere. He took a calming breath to recenter himself before he made himself known.

“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.

Her shoulders squared and straightened at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t expecting to see him again tonight, not after that little fallout they just had. 

Her hands had paused on the box of gauze in her hands, her eyes trained on the print on the cardboard cover. 

“Captain.” She said. 

He ignored the sting in his chest and the annoyance that came from her not using his name. This was one of those times where he was here both as a boss and as a boyfriend. Those moments were pretty rare, and he very much preferred being one or the other. 

“I thought I told you to take a break.” He said coolly, more as small talk than anything. 

“Not tired,” She half-lied. She was tired, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep though. “Where are the boys?”

He couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always referred to Ghost, Soap, and Gaz as “the boys” like they were her kids. It was ironic because she was younger than both Soap and Ghost, but somehow all of them saw her as motherly at certain times. 

“Soap and Gaz hit the sack,” He said. “I think Ghost is dealing with our perpetrator.” 

Price reached into the inside of his jacket, locating the pack of cigarettes that he stashed there. After today, he needed something to take the edge off. He slid a cigarette from the pack, settling it between his lips while he fished around in his pants pocket for his lighter.

“Guess he was better for the job then?” She grumbled, her back still towards him. “And don’t you dare light that cigarette.”

Price’s thumb had just set on the spark wheel with not even enough time to push it down to ignite the butane inside. She was always on him about his smoking habit. He knew all the health risks and concerns that came from smoking (she had explained them to him many times), but never were they enough to motivate him to kick his habit completely.

Nonetheless, he placed the cigarette back into the pack and stored them with his lighter for safekeeping. 

“It had nothing to do with that. You were just as suited and prepared for it.” He answered.

I guess we’re getting right into it then. He thought to himself.

“Then why’d you pull me out?” She set the box in the cabinet and closed the door.

Her tone wasn’t as firm now, but it still had a certain chill to it. 

“It was all part of his plan. He was going to wear you out until we were out of time.” He remarked.

She shook her head, an incredulous smile spreading across her features. She finally turned to him, her eyes meeting his from across the room. He had calmed down much more than she had, but she didn’t look like she was close to combusting anymore.

“You have absolutely zero faith in me.” She said.

His stance changed, his legs straightening out as he fully entered the room. 

“Come on, Peaches. You know it isn’t that,” He pleaded. “We’re running out of time. I couldn’t risk using it all on a dead end suspect.”

He was closer to her now. He could read her better if he was close. 

“If it had been Soap, you wouldn’t have pulled him out.” She grumbled.

“That’s not true,” He became more determined, but his voice remained normal. “I was looking out for you and for the best interest of this team.”

Her pupils dilated, a quick surge of vexation flashing over her irises. 

“I’m not soft, John. I don’t need you takin’ care of me.” She huffed.

At least we’re back to first names.

“I know that. I’ve never thought of you as anything other than independent and perfectly capable. And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise,” He defended. “But I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep this team safe and in line. That includes you.”

She almost rolled her eyes. How could he act like she didn’t already know that? She had a response ready, but he went on before she could say it.

“I made a judgment call because I was worried about you, and I saw that what he was doing was sabotaging what we’re trying to do,” He proclaimed. “You have the right to be upset over it, but it was the best call. I would’ve made the same choice no matter what. It just so happened that there was a little more emotion involved.”

It wasn’t always easy being both her captain and her lover. As he had said before, it presented some unique challenges that could only be dealt with as they happened. It was only when the two sides blended that things could get tricky. 

It wasn’t always easy for her either. Over time, she had learned to know when to treat him as a respected captain and when to love up on him as her romantic partner. She just had to understand that there were going to be times where his care for her was going to overlap with how he treated her professionally.

And in all honesty, she knew deep down that he hadn’t dragged her out because he didn’t think she could do it. If he thought that she wasn’t capable, he never would’ve let her do it in the first place. 

“It’s just…” She sighed, a much more serene look glossing over her eyes. “He got the best of me.”

She didn’t lose her temper often. If anything, it was more likely for John to flip his lid. But the stakes were high, the pressure was on, and time was running out…it made sense that an uncooperative criminal pushed her over the edge.

“I know. It’s alright,” He pushed a set of stray hairs from her eyes. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it. I need you to have a clear head so we can get this figured out.”

She felt ashamed for lashing out. She was better than losing her composure and confidence over some low life criminal.

She felt remorse for getting in John’s face and nearly cursing him out in front of his team. Her reaction had been uncalled for, and she felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” She apologized, the last of the flames in her eyes smothering out completely.

“Oh, come on now, darling,” He took her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to kill him.”

“I would’ve if you had let me.” She gave a small smile.

He chuckled at that, wrapping one of his arms around her waist.

“I know,” He pressed another kiss to her head. “I find the thought of you killing an international terrorist rather sexy.”

“Is that so?” Her smile grew wider. “Only problem with that is I’ll lose my job if I get caught killin’ him without probable cause. And I like my job.”

“You would never get caught,” He scoffed. “You’re stealthy.”

His arm unwrapped from her waist, his hands coming to gently grip her biceps. He kissed her properly then, his facial hair tickling her skin as she hummed into the kiss. All was well between them. This was hardly any real bump in the road for them. A minor hiccup, at most. 

Price could forgive and forget a little outburst on a terrorist. He would be more concerned if she hadn’t cared so much about this mission.

“How about you get some sleep?” He said when she broke the kiss. “We need to get started as soon as the sun comes up.”

Price’s eyes suddenly started scanning the room, as if he were looking for something. 

“Sure. I’ll finish packin’ the cabinet and I’ll hit the hay,” She smirked, following his eyes. “My medic bag is in that closet. Suckers are in the front pocket. I just restocked the cherry ones.”

A grin spread on his face when he dashed towards the closet that she pointed to. He had a theory that she kept lollipops around not only for people after being treated, but also to keep him from smoking so much. It didn’t really work, but he still appreciated the gesture. 

He stuck around until she was finished, escorting her out of the infirmary and to a decent place to get some rest. He made sure she was comfortable before he turned in for the night as well, but not before finishing his candy treat. 

Although, the lollipop was nothing compared to the relief he felt from making things right.

He felt confident that the answers the team was looking for would be found. And her confidence would return when this was all over and dealt with. She would be successful once more.

And he believed that both as her captain and her lover.

[moi5t-fk-fruit]

꧁ Sweet

Dabble *·˚ Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader *·˚

NSFW! MDNI! Plz enjoy & plz support by reporting :3

✦ Horny and thinking abt serving Ghost a cup of tea but experimenting with different flavors like honeyyy.

✦ How such an innocent way of spending time together leads to a total pornograph scene of you both licking honey off each other. Him lounged on a couch while you straddle him. He takes your shirt off and pours honey over your tits, you whine as you feel how cold it is. He kneads and squeezes your soft tits, he watches with tired and hungry eyes as the honey begins dripping down onto his large bulged crotch.

✦ Then, he lifts his balaclava up to his nose, rising from his lazy position to lick and suck your tits, if you have them pierced he would play with the metal with his tongue. You’re a whiny mess as he forces you to watch him with a deadly stare, his hands gripping your waist. He savors the sweet flavor while dragging his tongue along your skin, collecting every bit of honey before his hand travels to the back of your head. He massages your scalp before pulling you down and revealing your neck to him.

✦ Again pouring honey on you and sucking on your neck. He smiles into your skin as you moan when he nibbles and carefully bites your shoulder. Definitely obsessed with seeing you the next day all marked up from him. He stops to admire how dumbfounded you’ve become and how cute you look on his lap. He would praise you and make corning jokes like…

“U’r just as sweet as this honey love” - “Such a pretty girl” - “Good girl for her lieutenant” - “You’re so sensitive sweetheart” - “You like it when I suck on your tit?” - “Those marks look so pretty on you”

✦ Would blatantly groan or moan with you because he knows how much you like it, he chuckles when he sees how sensitive you’ve become when his fingers glide over your nipples. Guiding your chin to met his face. Your eyes slowly taking in his little exposed features, he draws you into a deep kiss which becomes wet and sloppy, tasting yourself and the honey on his lips and tongue.

✦ His breath hitch’s when you break the kiss and drag yourself down his large body. He watches, looking high off the taste and feeling of you. You force his strong thighs open as you settle in between his legs. Undoing his pants to expose his boxer briefs. You move his black compression shirt up to see his happy trail. You giggle and bite your lip at him when you notice him eger for you to make a move. He smirks and shakes his head before lifting up his bottom half for you to drag his pants a boxers down his thighs, his cock springing up and you eyes overt there gaze to his long hard shaft. He settles down onto the couch with a confused expression as he watches you grab the honey bottle.

“What are you…”

✦ Before he could finish you pour some only on his shaft letting a pool form on his balls. He moans from the feeling of the honey continuing to travel down his shaft. You look up at him with doe eyes as you begin to lick the honey off his dick. Sucking on his balls while you taste how sweet he is. You don’t break eye contact with him as he pulls the remaining balaclava off. You take in the view. His dirt-blonde hair messy and his cheeks flushed in blush as his eyes betray him and begin fluttering shut. You’d admit this is the first time seeing him so lost in pleasure. His lips parted and brows curling as you finish with the honey but continue to hear him moan. Adding a hand to help you. Popping his pretty pink tip in your mouth and jerking him off with your hand.

A/N: forgive me plz…sorry! but I might do a part two??

[wttcsms]

thirstpost for ghost, you pick what happens 😊

content contains creampie, slight angst, civilian!reader, possessive!ghost

he’s not a good person.

he knows this because a good person wouldn’t keep doing this to you; wouldn’t keep showing up at your doorstep at odd hours of the night even though he swears this is the last time. he wouldn’t strip himself of his heavy gear and discard his guns — safety on because the sense of impending danger fades to almost nothing when he’s with you — on the table in your foyer. he makes himself at home, slips into your bed with you, and plays with your heart — maybe even his, too — when he fucks you like he loves you, like he’ll stay.

he’s not a good person.

he repeats this mantra every time he slips off your thin silk nightie from your body. even a bad person would have the decency to fuck you hard and fast and make it as impersonal as possible. he knows he’s worse than bad because he’s selfish. because you’re still half asleep, mumbling incoherent pleas, and lazily lifting your body just the slightest just so he can see your body bathed in moonlight.

you’re trying to fight sleep, but your hazy mind struggles to tell your body what to do, especially when he buries himself as deep as he can go. he always lets out that low, guttural groan that sends butterflies in your tummy and heat between your legs every time he first bottoms out.

you can feel the tip kissing your cervix, and when he’s slowly thrusting into you — pulling out to the point where only the tip, leaking with pre just for you, remains only to push right back in ‘til his body practically melds with yours — you can trick yourself into believing that he’ll stay this time.

he’s not a good person.

simon doesn’t talk unless he deems it necessary. and apparently, when he’s buried in your warm, tight cunt, thrusting like he can’t ever get enough of you, speaking becomes essential. a bad person wouldn’t even bother with the pussy drunk ramblings, but simon is worse than bad. he must be, because he damn near means everything he says.

“you’re fucking made for me.” he growls it out, and you nod pathetically as the pleasure overtakes both of your sensibilities. “i want to keep you by my side forever. fuck this pussy every night ‘til everyone knows you’re mine.” he punctuates his vow with a particularly sharp thrust, and you’re falling, falling, falling—

falling apart, all you can do is let out a moan, hips bucking up as if trying to make an attempt to bring him even closer to you. the feeling of your orgasm only spurs his, and you soak in the warm feeling of his hot cum hitting your walls. the two of you shouldn’t be doing this. as he comes down from his high, simon makes a silent promise to himself that this is the last time. the last time he plays house with you and makes love to you as if he’s put a ring on your pretty finger. when he walks out this door tonight, after tucking you back into bed, he’ll never return to your doorstep to repeat the cycle.

he’s not a good person.

and like any bad person, he won’t keep that promise.