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lovifie · 1 day

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Villager!Reader and Villager!Ghost They're in love but their families are enemies...

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💚A Village Apart💚

The Riley family, and yours, have a history of feuds and quarrels going back years, decades, and if there were writings to back it up, centuries.

It is a small village, where houses are inherited and everyone knows each other. Therefore, all the inhabitants of the small village are aware of the enmity between the families.

And being such a quiet village, the amusement of many arises from taking one side of the families and criticising the other.

It is natural at this point in the story, and each generation that is born the rest of the village waits for the children of each to marry so that they can see how the story continues.

The Riley family earned their name and respect for their construction work in the village. Rare is the house that his family did not build.

Simon began working in his father's shadow almost as soon as he could walk, and as soon as he could carry weight, he became a bishop in his father's small army of builders.

It was not because he was the boss's son that he had it easier, some even say he was the one who had it harder.

It is a hard job, with admirable physical effort, but unfortunately, it left most of the workers without energy to enjoy the little free time they had after a long day's work.

Simon found a reason to keep a little extra energy reserve for when his day was over.

And that reason is you.

Your family is not as well known as his, well, everyone knows each other in the village; but yours is accorded less respect than his.

Unlike his, your family is humble, with enough cattle to feed the family and sell the leftovers when there are any.

It is a humble job, with difficult working hours, considerable physical effort and often little profit or reward.

But there is always food on the table and animals to look after; the people may not appreciate your family's work as much as they should, but the innocent animal eyes you look into every day make it worth it.

Another reason driving you on was Simon.

It was difficult at first, as you both knew it was a forbidden relationship. Your families had told you again and again to stay away from each other's families.

"They are women, Simon. We haven't worked as hard as we have to stoop to that level."

"They think they're better than everyone else for moving stones, sweetheart. You don't deserve that treatment."

"If they see you hanging out with her, the rest of the people in the village will think they have the right to talk to us like we're equals too."

"They're machines, honey. They're not capable of producing emotions those Riley's, you deserve better than someone obsessed with money like that."

But still, despite everything; it was impossible to avoid the sidelong glances as you passed each other walking through town.

When you went to mass, when you went to the village fairs, when friends in common met.

Normally, for a girl like you to meet boys would be frowned upon; but with the village being so small, they were the boys you played with years ago and it was an idiotic feeling to deny such good friendships.

Besides, they were the perfect excuse for you to see him when he joined the meetings; which, curiously enIt had nothing to do with the fact that he would ask before attending if you were going to be there.

Many times in the evening Simon would be exhausted from working all day, but if he was told that you were going to be there, there was no physical exhaustion that would prevent him from seeing you.

Many times he would be on the verge of falling asleep when they were gathered together, waiting for the chance to be able to walk you home.

"A young lady like you shouldn't have to go home alone."

"It's a couple of steps, Simon."

"Not if we follow my route."

"Your route?"

"Yes... Do you want me to show it to you?"

It turned out, knowing the structure of all the houses in the village, Simon knew perfectly well what route to follow that kept you hidden from the eyes of all the villagers.

The first night, it was pretty much just awkward silence. Both of you still internally debating whether it was worth the possible quarrel with your families just to meet the other person.

But the second night you got back together, the decision was made and the conversation flowed as if you were lifelong friends.

Innocent questions about each other's lives evolved into questions about each other's future plans,

You both decided to ignore the voice in your mind that told you not to continue, if anyone in the village, and God willing, anyone in your families, found out; a war would break out.

Your family was much more permissive than his, which meant that if you dared to associate with Simon, they would send you to a convent or marry you off to someone else.

You knew that those were the good options, you preferred not to think about what might happen to him.

It was easier to forget the possible consequences, especially when your hands brushed as you walked. When you felt the heat emanating from Simon's body, warming the side of your body that walked beside him. He walked slower, both so you could keep up effortlessly and to slow down the walk so he could spend more time with you.

In spite of everything, and knowing full well everything you stood to lose if it was discovered. It was during the harvest festival that Simon kissed you for the first time. Hidden in the barn of your family's farm, lying on the hay.

You were both lying down, with you on your back and your head resting on Simon's arm and him lying next to you on his side.

His other hand, the one not under you, rested delicately on your waist, pulling you close to him as if afraid you were going to run away.

His lips were full and warm on yours; a kiss almost innocent and overflowing with inexperience on both sides. Your hand slowly moved up to his jawline, stroking the nascent hair of his beard.

You were both pushing against each other, needing each other's touch and proximity. A mess of tongues to the point that you no longer knew whose was which, as your hands travelled up and down each other's body.

It is because of that proximity that you found it impossible to ignore as Simon's shaft grew in size and hardened against your thigh, the discreet hip movements seeking more friction and rubbing.

"Simon" You called out to him, panic invading your senses.

"Easy... I don't mean to do anything but kiss your lips, sweetheart. But I can't help it when I finally have you in my arms after so long dreaming about it."

And he kept true to his word, his hands never went beyond your hips nor were his lips more daring than kisses at the corner of your lips.

If you noticed moisture on your thigh on the side where he was, you said nothing. Nor did you mention the growing wetness between your legs.

But once you tasted the honey, you couldn't help but visit the hive.

Until then, it had been easy to avoid temptation; you didn't know the sweet sensation, the warmth of each other, the security of being together, the desire, the passion, the possibilities....

But you had to continue to be careful, you didn't know when someone could surprise you.

But when the innocent kisses in the barn turned into something more than kisses on the lips, you could easily expect the punishment you were facing.

"Simon, we can't" You moaned as you noticed Simon's hand move up from your ankle up towards your thigh underneath your dress.

"Why, why delay the inevitable when I know you're the one for me?" he murmured with his lips pressed against the skin of your neck, kissing you wetly and raising every hair on your body.

"But we can't..." You tried to insist, but no longer with any strength against his hand. "I must come pure to the marriage, Simon. Our parents would never forgive."

"Then let us marry, my love. Here and now. The moon and the stars as witnesses that I am yours far more than you will ever be mine, that I was born decades ago but not until I joined you did my heart begin to beat. Witnesses of my love, that there will not be a day that you wake up that is not in my arms, that there will not be a day that you wake up that you do not feel loved. That my work in this life will be to love you each and every day of it. That I don't care if I go thirsty and hungry every day if at nightfall it is your arms that pick me up, that there is no wound or blow that hurts me like when you reject me, when you take me away from you. Don't you realise, love? Don't you realise that I need you more than air? I promise you, my love. That if you accept me you will never ever regret it."

One kiss from your lips was all the answer I needed, the seal of the contract of your unorthodox union.

He kissed you back with the same fervour, a moan escaping his throat as he finally savoured you without thoughts in his mind that would take him away from you and the now.

He moved his hand under your dress, lifting your petticoats in the same way so he could reach your wet folds.

You whimper against his mouth, the touch of the man igniting something inside of you that was waiting asleep in the depth of your body. It is easy for his finger to slip inside between the folds, arching your back at the feeling of the intrusion.

You feel his lips on your jaw, travelling calmly to your ear where he stays professing his love for you, making you mewl when it mixes with the feeling between your legs.

“Simon!” You moan when he adds a second finger, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit sending a shockwave up your column

You are still surrounded by the feeling of prohibition, the tension of possible discovery with its corresponding punishment. But the sensation of Simon's fingers so deep inside you leaves your mind blurred and you can only moan in moans and whispers of his name, urging him to continue, to give you more, to love you as intensely as you love him.

Your self of mere weeks ago would drag you away from the farmer, scolding you for this lack of decorum, this promiscuity.

But then you look into Simon's eyes, and you doubt which shines brighter; the love that overflows from his eyes or the moon that shines from the window.

"You are the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever had the grace to glimpse, my darling." He says suddenly, forcing you to tug at his shirt to crash your lips to his so he doesn't see your blush.

The man who is normally so stoic, perfectly cordial but not saying a word beyond the obligatory. Suddenly turned into a poet in your presence.

If it weren't for his broad fingers caressing that spot inside you that you didn't know existed and that has you swaying your hips to receive his every wrist movement, you would think beyond the now. Of how you will continue this without anyone knowing, how you will continue together when you know perfectly well that none of your families will allow it.

But not now, now all you can think about is how good Simon makes you feel and how you need him to give you more.

You find it impossible to ignore as Simon continues to move his hips against your side, the hardness of his crotch obvious and pressed against your thigh.

You lower your hand, feeling it's only fair to return the favour; but before you even reach the waistband of his pants, Simon takes your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"Don't worry about it, love. I just want to make you feel good, don't worry about me." His lips travel up to your neck once more, leaving wet kisses and licking the spot that makes you cry harder.

There's a knot in the centre of your stomach, which becomes tighter and tighter as Simon continues to touch you. Your hand gripping his shirt squeezes tighter and tighter as the knot tightens.

Never before have you felt this sensation that has you with your face tight, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and your lip between your teeth to prevent a scream from escaping.

This is futile when you feel the knot suddenly loosen, feeling as if your body is drained of energy. Biting your lip proves useless in preventing the moan that escapes your lips before Simon presses his hand over your mouth to prevent the entire village from hearing you.

His hand continues to move, slowing and slowly slipping out of you; the wet sound it emits as it leaves once again causing your cheeks to flush.

"Simon... Let's do it... You said it, why delay the inevitable." You say, repeating his words.

He again touches his lips to yours, letting your bodies speak when you are at a loss for words.

You notice him moving, sitting up to kneel between your legs. He lifts your dress, leaving you completely exposed to him with your legs wrapped around his wide hips.

Your glistering folds shine on the moonlight calling him in, but the pain on his groin makes him selfish enough to limit himself to free his hard shaft from his pants, slightly slapping your sweet cunt with it.

It makes your legs shake and a whimper to leave your lips, desperation flooding from you as your hand goes down between your legs. Simon can't help but stare as your inexpert hand finds his tip making his shudder when you press it against your wetness.

His hips move involuntarily pushing himself between your hand and your folds, making his moan your name. His hands lands on your hips, physically stopping himself from moving more against you knowing perfectly fine he wouldn't last long.

There are already beads of his milky seed threatening to spill from his tip, but it is your hand the one that slowly pushes him lower until it catches on your entrance making the both of you shudder.

He looks at you, catching you looking back at him; last chance to pull back. But your hand moves to his hip, silently urging him forward and he gladly complies.

He slowly pushes in, his length getting engulfed inch by inch into your warm cunt making him whine in unison with you. The stretch makes you hiss just for a second before the juices make it easy for him to move.

He moves back and forth torturously slow, entering inch by inch, moaning when he finally bottoms out. The two of you need a moment to adjust; you to the feeling of getting filled to the brim and him to the feeling on your tight muscles choking him in.

Simon is no stranger to the feeling of his callous hand around his length, already used to the constricting feeling; but never in a thousand years would it compare fairly to the feeling of you around him.

You clench around him, desperate for his movement; but it sends him to bend forwards, his hands resting beside your head. But then he comes face to face with the image of you sprawled under him.

Your legs spread to adjust to his wide hips between them, your folds just as spread to let his girth into your core, your soft hands resting on his ribs to feel him close, your hair messy resting on the hay, eyes half closed blinded by the lust, lips glistering with the mix of saliva from both and cheeks blushed as if by the cold of the morning.

He realises then and there that you are the only thing he needs to survive. That he will fight and kill God himself if he dares to try and pull you away from him, let alone a mere mortal. That he will love you for as long as you love him, and that when you stop doing it he will make you fall in love with him again. That he will travel to the deepest level of hell and back if Death feared to steal you from him.

His hips begin to move, making you arch your back when he finally does and it urges him to compose himself only to manage to feel you come undone around his length.

He has a clumsy rhythm to it, voluntary and involuntary thrust mixing together in a weird dance but still consistent enough to make you feel the knot on your stomach tighten again.

He feels it too, when you start to clench around his length. Softly crying his name as your hands move down to his thighs, urging him to move closer, deeper.

He sees how you close your eyes, head falling back with your mouth open in a silent cry with your wet cunt choking harder and harder his shaft, until you finally breathe out, a moan loud enough to awaken the dead from the tomb and wetness making his way around his length when you finally fall over the edge.

Simon barely has enough control to pull out, the first dribble of his milky sticky spent falling on your pubes before he spurt thick and heavy over your stomach; the change from you welcoming cunt to his dry hand almost keeping him from coming.

He looks down, his seed painting your body, marking you his, soft abdomen moving up and down with your difficulted breathing from the orgasm pulled from you.

“Do you really love me, Simon?” You suddenly ask, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The fear of the consequences finally setting in on your minds now that lust is no longer driving it.

“I do, love. I love you more than anything on this land.” He says, still breathless as he bends down to kiss you again.

Tomorrow, when you meet across the church; the two of you will act as if you didn't know each other. You will ignore the dull pain between your legs and he will ignore the pull of his pants when he remembers how pretty you looked under him.

Every other night the two of you will meet, back in the barn. Professing love and exploring each other's bodies.

And in a couple of months, when you come crying to him, holding onto his shirt; about how your father has told you that he is marrying you to another man. He will hug you, consoling you, and tell you to meet again two days later.

When he will arrive, in his father's cart being pulled by his two better horses; and the two of you will disappear from the village at the crack of dawn, never to be seen again.

In the village there were no more arguments between the families, both ashamed that they lost their kid to their stubbornness. That if instead of fighting they would have supported the two of you, they would have met their grandkids years later and the eternal fight between the families would have ended in a love story.

Instead, Simon and you settled down far away from the village. Where nobody knew where any of you were, and where everyone was told to address you as Mrs. Riley. Where you build your home and your family, and you both lived happily ever after

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @wolfieisacat @kayden666

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 days

Text

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

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metallictastinglifesupportliquid · 18 hours

Text

Soap: Wow, you're so brave! You didn't even hesitate to throw yourself in danger! Y/N: That's because I have no regard for my own personal safety. You can ask Simon Ghost: I have never been more stressed in my entire life

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milkteahood · 2 days

Text

not a good man 2

Simon Riley x fem!reader, part 1

Summary: Simon crawls back to apologise

You have asked and I have delivered. I might or might not make an alternative ending where reader doesn’t take back Simon and starts dating König instead

Warning: light smut (just a paragraph, oral f receiving), still mdni

The next weeks were spent by Simon drowning in alcohol, refusing to admit it’s because of you. He didn’t call or text at all after that last fight, but you didn’t either.

You on the other hand, spent the first week falling asleep crying next to your phone. You hoped that, for once, it would be him who fights for you. But he never called, which only worked to break your heart further.

“Silly me I guess” you’d tell yourself.

On the base he was more distracted than usual, but not enough for anyone to notice. Well, not enough for someone that wasn’t close to him. His captain, John Price, noticed. So one day, while he was having lunch, Price took a seat across the table.

“Captain” Ghost nodded his head.

“Ghost. What’s on your mind?” John’s eyes softened slightly. Simon was very dear to him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re distracted”

Those words cut through him like a knife. Distracted? Him?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he responded, tone more cold now.

“I think you do”

John wasn’t one to back down and Simon knew that. And John also wasn’t someone Simon could intimidate. He was trapped.

“Just a fight”

“Your girl or something?”

Simon didn’t respond and John knew silence was an answer too.

“Have you tried to apologize?”

“What makes you think it’s my fault?” he raised his voice ever so slightly. As much as Price annoyed him in this moment, he wasn’t going to be disrespectful to his captain.

Price only gave him an amused look.

“Look Riley, a word of advice. Not from a superior, but from a comrade”

Simon looked at him straight in the eyes, waiting for him to continue.

John smiled “just because she loves the monster you are, it doesn’t make you less of one. You cannot be Ghost where you should be Simon” and with that, John stood up with his cup of coffee and departed, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts.

And that is how Simon found himself in front of your apartment door. He stood there for at least 20 mins before he knocked.

You were on the couch, nose deep into one of your books. The past weeks have been rough, finding yourself unable to focus on much else.

The soft knocks on your door made you snap back to reality. They were so quiet you almost missed it. You stood up from the couch and made your way to the door.

Your heart jumped in your throat when you looked through the peephole and saw him. His hood was up, and he was looking down.

For a while you contemplated ignoring him, but part of you, the big part of you, the one that still loved him, won. So you opened the door.

“Simon” you said, coldly.

“Dove—“ he looked up and paused. Your eyes were red, you have been crying for god knows how long. He looked back down. In that moment he wanted to punch himself into another dimension.

“‘M sorry” he mumbled.

“What?”

“‘M sorry” he said again, still looking down.

“Is that all? Really?” you were getting angry.

“You know what? Forget it” you said, starting to close to door, which he promptly stopped with his hand.

“N-no. Wait. Look. I know. I’ve been nothing but a cunt to you since the moment we started dating… and— I’m sorry, ok?” he sounded almost desperate.

You let go of the door and stepped aside, which he took as an invitation and walked in after you, closing the door behind.

“You’re soaking wet” you remarked.

“I— I waited for 30 minutes in front of your apartment complex. Then 20 more in front of your door..” he was still not looking at you.

“So it took you about an hour to debate whether or not I was worth an apology?” your voice was cold and full of venom.

“No. It’s not like that” he looked up, his eyes almost pleading for you to stop. Just accept his apology. But of course you weren’t going to and he knew that.

“Look Y/N. I can’t be what you need me to be. I don’t know how to do love you. Not in the way you want me to”

“But are you willing to try?”

“What?”

You left a crack to your heart for him to use. It was up to him to make the effort to squeeze through it.

“I asked—“

“Yes” he cut you off. “Yes I will try. Please love”.

He took a few steps towards you, but this time, you stood where you were. You extended your hands to cup his face and he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“Don’t ever—“

“I won’t” he didn’t let you finish.

“Okay” you said, gently stroking his face with your thumbs “you will have to prove that to me”.

He only nodded, leaning more into your touch.

“I’m sorry love” he said again.

“Good. You should be” you said before standing on your toes and kissing the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widened “I thought you’re mad at me” he blinked a few times, not yet daring to touch you.

“I am. Incredibly so. But— I also love you” you said before kissing him back, not letting him get another word in. In a way, you were scared to wait, scared he wouldn’t say it back.

He didn’t wait too long before kissing you again, one of his big hands holding the back on your head, deepening the kiss. His other hand squeezed your lower back, closing any space between you.

“Seems like you can’t stay away for long little one” he smirked once you pulled away from the kiss.

“Look who’s talking. Last I checked, you’re the one that crawled back”

He gave you a quick look before pulling you into another kiss and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around him until he made it to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed and taking off his wet hoodie before climbing on top of you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you silly, he knew that wouldn’t build him a strong enough case. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just here for a quick fix. He heard you sob about that enough in the past.

“You’re worth crawling back to” he said, kissing you again before you had a chance to answer.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

Once he pulled from the kiss, he latched onto your neck, sucking on all the spots he knew were sensitive. His hand traveled down your abdomen, running circles over your wet, needy clit.

Your moans were suddenly making his jeans feel too tight, causing him to grind against the mattress.

“Si— let me help you”

“No” he said, standing up on his knees and pulling your underwear down “for once let’s not make it about me dove”. And with that, his face was between your legs, pushing his tongue inside of you.

“Oh fuck—“ you moaned, arching your back.

He kept eating you out like you were his last meal before death. One hand held you firmly in place and the other was completely abusing your clit.

“Si— fuck— just like that, oh fuck” it felt so good you didn’t even realize you were tearing up.

“I’m gonna—“

“That’s right babe, come for me” he said, while his cock was still throbbing in his pants.

You didn’t need more encouragement before coming, your body twitching as Simon refused to let go of you, licking every drop.

You were panting, your eyes were glossy as you watched him climb on top of you again, kiss your forehead and then lay down next to you.

“What about you?” you asked, rolling on your side to face him.

He caressed your face with the back on his hand. It was rough, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I came here to apologize dove”

“But—“

“No buts little one”

He pulled you to him, nuzzling your hair. The room was dark, and the rain was still strong. How you take him back over and over, he couldn’t wrap his head around. He didn’t deserve you, that was for sure. His own ray of sunshine into the void his life was. He would never feel good enough for you, but for what it’s worth, you’re stuck with him. And he promised he would do better.

He didn’t remember just for how long he held you, but it must’ve been a while, for you started to snore.

This made him smile to himself, and he wrapped a blanket around you.

“…. I love you too” he said, but you were already asleep.

tag list: @blackhawkfanatic @milavk13 @thychuvaluswife @darkravenqueen98 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @coooookie15 @fictionallifestuff

if I missed anyone I apologize

#simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty

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celestialwhoree · 2 days

Note

Hiii bae I don't know if you still write this or not but Simon with anaemic reader who feels cold all the time?? :(

YES!!! Yes I can!!! I've missed writing my self indulgent sickly reader x big military princess🫶

Simon lets out a noisy sigh of relief when he walks into your flat, kicking off his boots and dropping his bags by the door as he sheds himself of anything pertaining to his working day, only noticing how hot your apartment is when he hangs his coat on the hook.

"Baby?" He calls out into your quiet house, Riley already skittering down the stairs to greet him, having Simon scratch behind his ears whilst he looks in confusion between the dog and the thermostat, cranked all the way up. "Where's mama, huh?" He questions to the German Shephard tasked with keeping you company, and your home safe when he's at work.

Riley dutifully plods up the stairs towards your bedroom, in which Simon sees the top of a hoodie peeking out from under the pile of blankets, two eyes only peeking out to watch whatever crap you'd put on the tv.

"Baby? Hey, you alright?" He mumbles, concern evident in his tone as he shifts the duvet back to get a look at your face, placing the back of his hand on your forehead, noting your seemingly normal temperature.

"M' sorry." You sigh, scooting over si that Simon can sit beside you in bed. "Didn't hear you com-"

"Fucking christ." Simon yelps, interrupting you when he feels like a block of ice has just been dropped on his shin.

"What?" You mutter, pausing the TV to shoot a confused glance his way.

"Feet like bloody ice cubes. Jesus."

His surprise at your admittedly chilly feet makes you giggle, going so far as to press your point by placing a freezing hand on each of his cheeks.

"Didn't realise I signed up to live with a yeti when I moved in with you." He huffs, already scooping you up from the bed, marching in the direction of where you assume a hot bath will soon be drawn.

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sim0nril3y · 3 days

Text

Revenge

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: I'm sorry for this one, but just a silly little imagine after writing that angst. So, after smacking Simon's bum playfully he decides to find his own revenge which spirals chaotically. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), playful spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, canon-typical swearing.

What was he going to prepare for dinner tonight? Simon was standing looking into the vast emptiness of the fridge, the empty shelves mocked him, the lonely jar of marmite smirked and jested whilst he stood there arms crossed, stance wide as if he was going to tackle the appliance any moment to try and find its secrets and hidden compartments.

From behind he heard you shuffling into the kitchen, placing down your long finished mug of tea and approaching him slowly. “Love-” Whack~ A rouge hand struck his butt making him jolt a little in surprise. It hadn’t hurt. The act alone had just shocked him into a stunned silence. From behind you cackled laughing, especially as he turned slowly to finally face you. “What?” You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Those dark eyes of his narrowed, looking at you with a calculative glare, jaw set and muscles wound tight. “There’s nothing in the fridge.” He continued his long abandoned sentence before his rear had been struck. “I’m gonna order a take-away.” He bit out, before stepping around you. Realistically the only thing left on Simon’s mind was revenge.

It was a few evenings later after a steamy showered before bed when you were hanging up some clothes into the cupboard you shared. Now, shared was probably a loose term when it came to the cupboard, as a good portion of it was made up of your pretty dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and jumpers a whole cascade of shoes beneath. Then shoved to the side was a measly bit of space for Simon’s clothing.

Thwhack! A sudden strike on your own rear sent you whole body hurdling forward into the cupboard, body pressed and clinging to the hanging clothes to keep your unbalanced body upright. “Ow!” You yelped; your voice muffled between the clothes. Turning your face and seeing Simon looming behind you, arms crossed and proud smirk on his face. “What the fuck?” You squeaked. “Just a little payback, love.”

As you leant there, your eyes widened. “For bloody what?!” You huffed, trying to push yourself up. “For smacking your bum like a week ago?!” You growled. “I didn’t send you headfirst into the fridge, Simon and I certainly didn’t smack you that hard…” You vented and this only caused him to chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard-” “It wasn’t soft either. I bet it’ll bruise…”

“Let me check.” The words came out quick and before you knew it Simon was tugging down your leggings and knickers to inspect your rear. “Simon!” You squeaked from inside the cupboard still, hands clinging to the fabric of your clothes, creasing them beneath your clenched fingers. “Simon…” You whimpered softly as you felt him kneel behind you, carefully taking the globes of your arse into his hands and stroking them softly. “You’ll be fine, love…” Simon mentioned, carefully pulling them apart, squeezing them, stroking them before placing a few stray kisses to the struck skin. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”

From inside the cupboard you nodded, whimpering out a soft. “Yes, please.” “So polite…” Simon murmured, pulling carefully on your hips so that your arse stuck out a little further, placing a few kisses to the backs of your thighs, higher and higher causing you to squeak as his face dipped forward to find your soaked cunt, all pretty and leaking for him. “Fuck…” He growled, wanting to start slow and build up but simply unable to hold back as he got a taste of your wonderful juices. They were addictive to him. Once the first drop touched his tongue Simon craved more and more.

From where you were leaning awkwardly into the closet you could simply only cling to your clothes and accept the laps and presses of his tongue and mouth, moaning loudly as his hand slipped around your body to find your clit, massaging it beneath his fingers in tight circles. “Simon~ Simon~ Ohgod~” You cried in pleasure; it was like the air was thick as his hand smacked down playfully against your arse. “Please. Please. Fuck~”

The cry of his name only spurred him on more. Burying his face into your wonting cunt, growling and grunting as he sort to find your end. “There. There. Don’tstop. Don’t stop.” You panted, your body trembling as your end built and built. A second later Simon tugged away, smacking his hand against your rear and causing you to yelp in surprise. “Si, please. Please. Please… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for smacking your bum. I’m sorry. Please.” Without even having to press you for some sort of apology for your day old lapse in judgement you gifted him one, over and over. God, it was difficult to decide what sounded more pretty your beautiful moans or the sound of you succumbing to his will.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Simon smirked, spitting on your cunt and fucking a few fingers into your cunt, shunting the thick digits deep to find your special spot. “You won’t do it again, will you?” “Never. Neveragain. Never. Never.” You chanted, squirming as your knees knocked together from the sudden invasion. “Never. Promise. Pro-aghg…” The final promise caught in your throat your juices soaked his hand, something which Simon would happily clean up.

“There’s my good girl.” Simon chuckled. “There we go…” He coaxed, rubbing your lower back soothingly to coax you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm. “Good girl. My good fucking girl-”

Now, if he had been able to hear over the sound of your panting and crying out and moans then he probably could have heard an ominous noise from within the cupboard, however that hadn’t been the case and instead was startled when the beam holding up hangers of clothes up cracked from having you probably hanging off it too as you clung to the clothes. It sent you toppling to the ground, clothes burying you on top of the shoes that lay at the bottom.

For a moment he knelt there completely taken back by your half naked body sticking from the cupboard under all that mess, then he acted and quickly tugged it all out of the way, finding your body beneath. “You okay, babe?” He asked quickly. “I’m so bloody good.” You whimpered; face completely dazed with lust.

Masterlist | Ask | 13-04-2024

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squishycheekanon · 3 days

Text

A little Simon ‘ghost’ Riley thot❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

“Triple toe loop first.” Your coach instructed making you nod, a good little soldier. You were good at taking orders and following through without fault. Simply wired that way.

Turning from your coach, you slid one foot in front of the other until you picked up speed on the ice, before turning backward and bringing your left foot down to strike the ice with your toe pick. Pushing up with your body strength, you began spinning in the air and came down to land perfectly.

You glided backward slowing down gradually. Your attention snapped to a sound. An applaud. You never had that in training, it made you cocky and that was bad with this sport.

Twenty minutes earlier…

Ghost couldn’t help himself, he tried. Really he did. Even thought about tying himself to a chair to stop himself but that small little voice tucked away in his cerebral cortex just had to encourage him. And maybe it’s the way he’s wired to take orders, he just had to listen.

The edge of the rink creaked with the weight of his colossal body leaning on it. Blue unrecognisable eyes follow your every movement, every glide, every lutz. Just the way your body bent and folded as you flew. He once again can’t help himself, it’s wired in him like a good little guard dog he examines the area. Oceans waving over each seat and person in the arena.

Ever since he ran into you in that silly little coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. It was his fault, even as the cinnamon spiced latte that used to fill the cup in your glove covered hand dripped down his shirt soaking through he knew that much.

And yet you apologised to him, frantically and so politely. Your lips formed into the cutest little pout, the way your forehead creased as your eyebrows pulled together into a frown. Yes, you were an all consuming constant on his mind, never wavering. It was all you.

Then you were on tv, Price’s Mrs had been watching it. Something she had recently become invested in as she had gone into her second trimester and John had very convincingly suggested she start relaxing more and definitely quite that awful job of hers. It was always shitty anyways, even when they first met, well started writing to each other anyway.

“That’s the girl you met today!” Price’s wife squealed slapping his chest, so comfortable with him and the rest of the team. Simon simply nodded, glancing over at his captain though he was busy online, trying to get some weird pregnancy craving snack imported here from America.

He watched you skate gracefully on the tv, even in 4k, it didn’t do you justice. It didn’t show how truly beautiful you were. You bowed to the crowd smiling brightly before catching a bouquet of flowers as the crowd began to throw flowers and teddies and other treats onto the ice while they applauded you.

Simon leant forward, elbows resting on his knees as he noticed how tight your smile was, almost fake. He was almost sure it was fake when he saw it drop as you skated off the ice and out of his sight.

That wouldn’t do. After a little research, Simon found out where you trained and as much as told himself this was wrong. Why was he using his government connections to track you down? He didn’t even know himself but he felt as though he had to know you. Had to make you smile for real.

Now…

Your coach shouted your name in order to get your attention back on training, but it was too late. The gorgeous blue eyed, brown haired, enormous, muscular man held all your attention in the palm of his hand to do with what he wished. “Two minutes.” You yelled back not even looking at her before gliding on the ice towards him. Reaching the edge of the rink you slowed down before leaning against the edge like he did.

“You’re like an angel on that ice.” The compliment makes you grin widely, a pretty sparkle in your eyes that he always wants to see there. See, a real smile.

“Thank you.” Your breath stuttered a little as you became nervous, “What are you doing here?”

Simon thought for a moment. What could he say without sounding like a creep? Without coming on too strong?

“Go on a date with me.” Fuck, he fucked it.

You took a moment to think too. A stranger had just asked you on a date. A very handsome stranger that you spilled your coffee on yesterday. Fuck. Fuck okay.

“Um, sure.” Although you don’t mean it to, it comes out as more of a question.

“Yes or no angel.” You of course said yes. Who could possibly say no to him. It went amazingly, he took you to the fair.

You talked for ages and got to know each other. Though Simon for obvious reasons managed to skate around the question about what he does for a living. Instead he distracted you with Cotten candy.

You greedily ate the sugary fluff while you watched him pick up one of the guns at the game booth. “Careful with that big guy. Think only professionals are supposed to use em.” You joked with a little giggle to follow it up, he cracked a smile at that. Oh honey you’ve got no idea.

“I think I can manage poppet.” He winks at you as he bends slightly and gets set up so quickly. Almost like he knows what he’s doing, he aims and expertly shoots the seven bottles that sit on the side down.

He glances over at the annoyed looking booth guy, before full body turning to you slipping his oversized hands onto your waist and sliding them down to your sides. The feeling of his huge hands heavy on the thickness of your hips had your breath catching in your throat. A shiver racking through your body.

“Which one d’you want angel?” He inspects your face as your eyes reluctantly leave him to search the booth full of stuffed animal teddies.

“That one.” You mumble softly pointing to the large avocado squishmellow toy. He grins down at you, so at ease with you, just able to be himself.

He nods, “okay baby.” His entire demeanour practically screaming anything for you.

Things were going very well, you had managed to take time off to spend with Simon. You’d gone on several dates and spent one very lazy morning in a California king bed all tangled up in the sheets. It was the happiest you’d both been in your entire lives. Unmistakably.

Until you lost your next competition.

“This is all your fault!” You yelled at him, he could see how broken and distraught you were. He knew you were just lashing out, he would gladly let you use him as your punching bag, use him as you pleased as long as it made you feel better.

“Angel.” He started carefully approaching you as if you were a rabid wild animal hands help up in peaceful surrender, only for you to cut him off.

“If you hadn’t come along and distracted me this never would have happened!” Tears gushed down your face as you began to hit his chest, not hard enough to hurt him. Subconsciously you didn’t want to, you’d never want to hurt your Simon. He grabbed your wrists in his large hands, holding them tight and pulling you in close.

“Shh, hey it’s okay. It’s okay poppet.” He shushed you sweetly, cooing at you as began to cry harder than before. He sharply inhales when you look up at him, eyes all glassy from tears, but the look in them. He imagines if he ever let out all the hurt and pain he had bottled inside out, this is what it would look like. When you look at him, he sees his own eyes staring back at him.

He notices the tortured soul festering inside you, how could he have not seen it before? How fucking stupid of him to not see how you were suffering even when all you do is care for him and his needs. He feels like an idiot, though he pushes that down making a silent agreement with himself not to deal with it later.

You were his priority. His angel, sobbing into his strong chest. Simon let his fingers come up to tangle in your hair relaxing your body with his touch. You hated how well it worked, how easy it was for you to give into him.

Simon ignored the stares from your coach and family, to his knowledge there had only been a few times you didn’t win a competition or had fallen over which had affected your score. But even in those times of frustration, even when you were so pent up, so tired and angry at everything; you never cried.

As much as you seemed to hate it, Simon thought this was a good thing. He told you so, “Let it all out my sweet, sweet girl, you’ll feel better once you do.” Albeit hesitant and unwilling, you still listened. Shoving your face deep into his oak and spiced orange smelling chest, you inhaled harshly before letting out a muffled blood curdling scream. You did this a few times, continuing to cry your eyes out and the whole time Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, held you safe and secure promising to never let you go.

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the-froschamethyst4 · 21 hours

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could u write smth about being out with Simon and a guy is hitting on reader?

Either watch the Hand or lose the Hand

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, hints of smut, harsh language, protective Ghost, creepy men, kissing, married couple, harassment, some perverted comments,

𖤐summary: Ghost and Y/n need to go to the store for a few things but when Y/n is on her own and Ghost is trying to find the other things on Y/n's list, but he comes back a creepy man is flirting with Y/n

————

"Come on baby! We have to go!" Ghost yells for his wife from the bottom of the stairs.

"Chill, I'm taking my time, the store isn't going to grow legs and leave." Y/n giggles at her husband.

"You never know, and I want to get there before all the weird people come out."

"What's considered weird to you Ghost?" She asked, getting her sandals on and grabbing her purse to complete her outfit. Ghost placed his hands on her waist of her sundress and kissed her temple.

"I'm talking about the weird so-called single mothers that always hit on me," Ghost says, opening the front door for Y/n.

---------

Ghost grabbed a cart pushing it as Y/n locked her arm with his as they looked down at the list. Y/n and Ghost had a family cook out they were going to this Saturday, but they were also out of a few things.

Y/n wanted to make a fruit salad, and some cookies and brownies as a sweet treat. Ghost pushed the cart as Y/n was going over the list on what she needs. Ghost takes the list from her and memorized the things she needed.

"Why don't I go the stuff to make your homemade brownies and cookies and you worry about the fruit, okay?"

"Are you sure? It's a lot of things, Si."

"I know, I know, I can do it, I know what you need," Ghost says.

"Okay, get everything."

"I will," he kissed her lips before going to the baking section leaving Y/n on her own. She had grabbed strawberries, blueberries, grapes, kiwis, raspberries and more.

"You should get bananas if you like fruit." Y/n stopped what she was doing and turned around, she knew it wasn't Ghost, but she felt uncomfortable with that sort of comment.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"If you like fruit, get some bananas."

"Are you suggesting that because I'm a woman and 'knows' how to handle a 'banana' or you are just saying that cause you think you're funny?"

"Honey, I know I'm funny, that's why I suggested it, you could handle my banana anytime," Y/n gave a disgusted look on her face and walked away. She hates bananas and for this type of reason as well, she doesn't even eat bananas around her own husband.

"Hey, now, I wanna keep talking."

"Well, I don't wanna talk to you," she says, walking away.

"Come on, now, I'm sorry about the comment...I like your dress...you single?"

"Married?" Y/n says.

"Oh damn, well, he doesn't have to know-"

"Actually he will," Ghost comes up past him placing the baked goods in her cart. "And yeah, that dress also looks better on the floor," he smirks, placing his arm on her waist and they walked away from the creepy guy.

----------

Ghost and Y/n were now in the frozen section and the same guy was in the aisle, maybe he will leave Y/n alone getting the hint that Ghost is her husband and to leave her alone.

The guy was looking in the freezers 'looking' for something.

"Which one, love?" Ghost asked.

"The chicken, get chicken," she says, leaning on the cart, Ghost opens the freezer turning his back to her. The creep then shines his phone under Y/n's skirt.

She didn't notice. Ghost turns back around and the creep had moved away from Y/n, but Ghost caught it. He places the frozen meat into the cart and marches to the guy.

"Simon?"

Ghost grabs the creeps wrist, he drops his phone on the ground and Ghost grabs it off the floor, the creeps is wallowing in pain and his knees landed on the floor. Ghost opened his photos and saw a few pictures of Y/n's underskirt and a short video as well.

"You takin' photos of my wife!?" Ghost was pissed, seeing red pissed. Y/n had pushed the cart next to Ghost, he shows her the photos and video. She gasps and takes the phone from Ghost seeing more underskirt photos of different women.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Y/n asked.

"I think you're really pretty."

"You are fucking disgusting," Ghost then starts dragging the creep. Ghost drags him to the front of the store knocking on a door labeled 'Security'

The door opens and Ghost basically tosses the guy inside the office.

"He's taking underskirt photos of women and he got my wife," Ghost says.

"We caught him doing it to another woman, we called the police, it's good to know the police won't go on a wild goose chase to get this guy."

Ghost heads back to his wife, she looks at him a bit worried.

"Is he gone?"

"They already called the police because they caught him doing it to other women, I just made their job easier by dragging his creepy ass up there," he says, he puts his hand on her waist and they went to go pay for their stuff.

----------

Ghost and Y/n were home, and Ghost was putting everything away in their certain spots. Ghost placed the chicken on the counter and was going to prep it for dinner tonight.

Y/n was cutting veggies, once Ghost was done, he moves over to Y/n placing his hand on her butt giving her a lovingly squeeze and kissing her temple.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"I've just never had anything like that happen to me before...not even when I was in High school with dumb jocks, no one has ever done that to me before...I don't know, how I feel," she says, leaning on Ghost.

"I understand," he says.

Ghost watches as she cuts the vegetables he grabs her hands taking the knife from her hands, he made her wrap her arms around his waist and hugged her, rubbing her back.

"Your hugs are the best," she says, snuggling her face into his chest.

"Only for you...you are quite literally the only person I hug because you deserve it," he says, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n looks up at him, her chin on his chest. His hand ran through her hair, and kissed her lips.

"For now on, to make you feel comfortable I can go to the store for you or I can come with you everywhere."

"I wouldn't mind that," she says, burying her face in his chest.

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your-local-simp-writers · 3 days

Note

Since request are open would it be to much to ask for a ghost x reader? Also since theirs two of you who runs the account who’s older? I get this might be a bit odd to answer lol but what’s y’all’s schedules like? Just to get a general idea of how much time you both spend writing, sorry if that sounds kinda rude 😅 I’m just really curious

Hello! 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 here, that's actually not a strange question at all—I'm older, to give you the main rundown. Regarding our schedules, we would rather to keep them largely confidential, but they can be described as hectic and full. If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quiet Valor

Word Count: 431

Warnings: None

Ghost x Fem! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After a grueling day of tactical operations and close calls, Ghost finally returned to the safe house. His mask, a symbol of stoicism, hid the weariness in his eyes, but you knew him better than anyone else. You could see past the facade to the man beneath.

Ghost’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way to the living room, where you sat curled up on the couch, a book in hand. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and in that instant, the mask wasn’t just a physical barrier—it was a symbol of the distance he often put between himself and the world.

But with you, he didn’t need the mask. You saw him, not just the soldier, but the man with hopes, fears, and dreams. The man who loved the sound of rain against the windowpanes and the quiet moments just before dawn.

As he sat down beside you, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. You set aside your book, turning to face him fully. You greeted him with a warm smile, the kind that always seemed to reach right into his soul. “Rough day love?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Ghost just nodded, the weight of the day’s events etched into the lines of his body. He was like a tightly coiled spring, wound up with tension and stress. “It was… intense,” he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken stories.

Without a word, you scooted closer, reaching up to gently tug at the edge of his mask. He didn’t stop you as you slowly lifted it, revealing the stubble-lined jaw and the faintest hint of a smile at your boldness.

“I think you need a bit of… distraction,” you said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Before he could respond, you launched into an exaggerated retelling of the neighbor’s cat’s latest escapade, complete with wild hand gestures and dramatic pauses. Ghost couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound muffled but genuine.

“And then,” you paused for effect, “the little furball actually—” you paused, leaning in close, your breath tickling his ear. In a swift motion, you pressed your lips to his cheek, cutting off your own story. Ghost’s laughter broke free, a rare and heartwarming sound.

“You’re impossible,” he said, but the warmth in his voice told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the rest of the evening, you kept up your antics, each silly joke and surprise kiss peeling away the layers of his stress, revealing the man who could still find joy in the little things, thanks to you.

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tacticalprincess · 21 days

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simon and könig being unable to stop bickering for a second, even when they’re balls deep inside of you. they’ve got you in an Eiffel Tower, könig’s cock filling your glossy pussy while simon stuffs your mouth. it took ages of convincing for them to even consider this position, but eventually they decided to put their discrepancies aside for the sake of you, their precious, spoiled little thing. it didn’t last very long though…

“jackhammer much, mate? you’ve got her choking on me over here.” simon points out, his heavy hand stroking your hair soothingly. könig’s using your hips as leverage, bucking into you at a rabid pace, each of his thrusts lurching your body forward and forcing you to take more of simon’s dick down your poor throat. “what happened to treatin’ the princess with care?”

“it’s okay, she likes it. isn’t that right, maus?”

your cheeks warm up as you hum around simon’s dick noncommittally. nothing gets passed the l.t though, and suddenly he’s gripping you by your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock.

“wait, you let him fuck your face?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended.

you wipe the line of spit that trails from your swollen lips all the way to his still hard dick, hovering just out of reach. you huff. “he’s more sadistic than you…” you say sheepishly in response, voice staccato from könig’s thrusts.

“you tellin’ me i’m the soft sex guy? the aftercare fuck?”

“‘s alright, mate.” könig reaches over your naked body to pat his comrade on the shoulder. “youve got boyfriend dick. happens to the best of us.”

#sum slight idk i might love them #simon x reader x könig #konig cod #konig x reader #cod smut #konig call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #könig smut #könig x reader #konig smut #konig x you #könig cod

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yawnderu · 3 months

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>Simon Riley with bigger pecs because he's bulking save me,,,.....

“Do it again.” Your drunken commands are met with a sigh, though like always— he listens. His muscles flex as he contracts his pecs, letting you feel the mix of fat and muscle moving right under your face, keeping it buried on his bigger pecs.

“That's so fucking cool.” Your words are muffled by his chest, fully focused on the way he can isolate each pec and moves them individually just to impress you. Your hands go down his shirt, traveling up to his now softer tummy and squeezing the fat, too drunk and in love to even care about the amused chuckle that leaves his lips, pressing your face closer to his chest.

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lov-3-rs · 6 months

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Being needy asf and riding ghost is the only thing on my mind…

“oh fuck baby slow down you’re gonna make me cum” ghost gives out a low chuckle while looking up to you through his damned skull mask that he wears all the time, “Si- hmm I can’t help it i need it s-soooo fucking badly aahhh” you tilt your head back in pure pleasure while bouncing on his cock, “fuckin’ hell love” his fingers are digging so deep and harshly into your hips that they’ll definitely be leaving bruises by tomorrow but the poor guy can’t help it because he’s trying to control how hard you’re bouncing on his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly, You tilt your head back up straight to look at him just to see him staring at himself going in and out of your cunt “hmmm you like watching?” he looks back up at you “yeah baby I like watching you take it” his voice is so deep and rasped it makes your stomach knot up “Oh fuck i’m gonna cum” you pick up the pace bouncing up and down “oh yeah? ya gonna be a good girl and cum on me?” he says teasingly taking one hand from your hip and giving you a nice slap on the ass making you yelp a little “FUCK aaahh yeaaahhhh gonna watch me cum on this fat cock huh??” you are breathless at this point sweating and grinding chasing that knotted up pleasure that’s in your stomach waiting to explode “Come on love make that cock yours” his words literally send you over the edge making you lean forward putting your arms on his chest to support yourself from falling on him and continuing to ride out your orgasm “that’s it love it’s all yours, good girl” he says chasing his own knotted up feeling, he finally lifts you off of him to pull himself out and shoots warm white strings of cum all over his hands “hmmm look at the mess you’ve made love” he looks over to you as you watch him still pumping his cock, you smile and bite your bottom lip “and i’ll do it again”.

#call of duty #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #cod smut #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #smut #ghost x reader smut

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metallictastinglifesupportliquid · 2 months

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Y/N: Hi I'm your medic and I'll be drawing your blood today, as soon as I finish this capri sun Y/N: *misses the hole four times then finally punches the straw through the side* Ghost, sweating: PRICE

#incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #cod incorrect quotes #incorrect call of duty quotes #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #captain price #john price #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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milkteahood · 2 days

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Golden retriever König with black cat partner.

Black cat Simon with golden retriever partner.

Or better yet, double date between golden retrievers König and partner and black cats Simon and partner.

#milkteas thoughts #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #konig mw2 #konig x reader #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig cod

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celestialwhoree · 20 hours

Text

𝟏. 𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Part One of Foreigner's God King Simon Riley X F! Faerie Reader

WC: 2k

Sunlight fractures through the leaves of age old oaks and ancient pines, dappling against your back, weaving through long strands of untamed hair to brush a kiss against your thinly clothed shoulders, spiders silk and gauze just barely fluttering on a phantom breeze stirred by the muted clopping of horse hooves on the forest floor. The mare beneath you holds tension in her withers, matching the unpleasant knotting of the muscle between your shoulder blades. She knows what’s coming just as well as you do.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anxiety this way. It’s the kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach that comes only from venturing away from the safety of the trees and caves, brooks and hollow roots you call home. Your people call home. You force yourself to swallow down the fear - remind yourself that you’re doing this for them. Without this sacrifice, your sacrifice, the woods and forests which serve as sanctuary for your entire species, would be gone. The sick feeling in your stomach refuses to be soothed.

In an attempt to calm yourself, to tear your mind away from the images you’ve conjured of what may await you on the forest edge, you focus intently on every slow stride of your companion. You draw your thoughts to counting every rhythmic movement of her shoulders, the way they gently jostle your hips as you follow each motion of hers with one of your own. A push and pull of a gentle tide. She and you melt into one being, acting and reacting in such effortless synchrony, such enviable elegance. An innate ability for which your kind are revered.

Humans long lost touch with nature - shunned it in favor of such rapid growth, such vast power. They burned the trees to make room for their sprawling palaces, dug up the earth and all of her riches to build their roads, to grow their crops, never once wondering what she could provide had they simply respected her instead. Your people had never done such a thing, and for that, you’d been blessed. She’d provided you with everything you could ever have needed, and all you’d ever had to do was provide for her in turn. That balance, that equilibrium, is what humans have long since forgotten. Compromise, to them, is an impossible thing. To you and your kind, it’s an intrinsic part of life.

At this moment, you feel that perhaps you know compromise better than any.

The journey so far has been painstakingly long. On the one hand, it’s something you feel grateful for, that you’ve time to prepare yourself for the life that lies beyond the treeline. On the other, however, it’s excruciating. To ride through the forest, down the path away from the only life you’ve ever known, to mourn something you’ve not yet even lost. Every blazing orange dusk is another grain of sand dripping through the fingers of time, and every golden lighted dawn a death knell. You wonder if your sisters miss you the way you miss them. Your mother, too. Maybe they sit in quiet solitude, wondering what you’re doing at any given moment, or maybe they cry tears of frustration and anger at the fact that it could’ve been anyone else. Anyone but you.

The days before had been spent in a resigned sort of mourning. You’d saved your tears for the first days of your voyage.

You still so vividly remember sitting with your mother as she twisted up your hair, pinning it with flowers as she reminisced upon the girl taken by the last king. She’d been only as old as your youngest sister, Ophelia, when it had happened. Once every generation, every two, if you were at all lucky. You, unfortunately, were not. She’d spoken of how silent everything fell when the girl had been sent away - the strange, pained feeling that had settled over your people as they’d watched her go resigned into the trees. She’d never come back, of course, a fate that you too share. The small hope flickering like a fading ember at the bottom of your heart sings songs of longing. Such a foolish thing it is, holding out that perhaps the man who waits beyond the woods will love you, guide you to him with coaxing words and the gentlest of touches. You feel pathetic even thinking of it.

You never had quite outgrown your childish fantasies of love, and in turn, had given the humans holed up behind their cold stone walls another innocent heart to break.

When the sun shrinks back to nothing but a hazy golden glow, like that of a dying fire or burning star, you realize that more for your horse’s sake than your own, that it’s time to stop, to rest before you carry on with your journey. A day or two more and you’ll have reached the place where the canopy dwindles and the roots which cover the forest floor grow sparse, travel under the earth as though to hide from the human feet which march upon them. You hope for at least one more blissful sleep under the stars, moss under your head and night creatures watching your rest with vigilant, unseeing eyes.

Settling aside the small pond where your horse bends at her withers to drink, you lay up against the gnarled stump of a fallen tree, which yields to accommodate your body, just one of the many perks of being so connected with nature. You’ve no need to set up a campsite when the forest welcomes and provides for you with such ease. It’s not easy to forget the fact that the forest probably recognises the way you’re feeling - sympathizes with your predicament.

As you drift off into a fitful sleep, under the comforting twinkle of the stars, A king is waking. Behind the fortified stone walls of the palace, the revelry celebrating the lead up to King Simon’s wedding has lasted for days. To most, it’s an opportunity to celebrate. Their cold, reclusive king finally taking a wife. When the betrothal had been announced, the sigh of relief collectively exhaled by the nation had been palpable. He hadn’t wanted to do it - marry some wild forest thing and rut her full of little fat wailing babies. Johnny had been the unfortunate soul tasked with convincing him - reminding him that since Tommy passed, so did the soul heir to the Riley line. With enemies poised in the south, ready to exploit any weakness they could find, Simon hadn’t exactly had much choice. His being backed into a corner, however, hasn’t made him the most pleasant to deal with during the preamble to his rapidly inbound nuptials. For not only his sake, but also everyone else’s, he hopes that his bride-to-be is at least reasonably tame. With his luck? Highly doubtful.

His closest men had shared their theories and fantasies of some nymph-like creature, lovely and demure, happy to bend to Simon’s every whim, less wife, more well trained pet. Whilst he can appreciate a beautiful woman just as much as any man can, he keeps his expectations low - pleasant to be around and a decent conversationalist is enough for him.

He’s tried to expel the thoughts of marriage from his mind for as long as possible. He’s far too busy to be distracted with silly fantasies of rose petal decorated aisles and which rings he’ll select for his betrothed. Keeping a kingdom running and the vulture-like men that are his enemies at bay is no mindless thing. Simon barely has time enough to sleep, let alone celebrate a wedding he doesn’t want, nor to take the day-long trek to the agreed meeting place to collect his new wife. To collect his new wife. Parade her on horseback like some exotic acquisition to be flaunted, to grow bored with when the novelty inevitably wears off.

It’s impossible to ignore the way his knees creak as he rolls tiredly from his bed, the fathomless cold embedded in the very core of the flagstone floors seeping into his bare feet as he dresses himself. In spite of his status as King, Simon keeps his appearance reasonably simple, his tunics plain and armor scarcely decorated. Easier to dress. Simon Riley is a man of convenience, the bells and whistles of being monarch are nothing but a hindrance.

The celebrations have thankfully quieted, all of his courtiers and castle residents undoubtedly tired, hungover and sore from the days of singing, dancing and drinking - days which he’s mostly spent holed away in his study, playing chess with wooden carved soldiers on battle maps, giving the occasional go-ahead to wedding planners and burying his nose in any literature on strategy he can find. Today, unfortunately, his kingly duties outweigh his reclusiveness. He’ll only travel with Price to the meeting point - having originally wanted to go alone so as to make your initial meeting less intimidating, a point to which the head of his Kingsguard had made his disagreement abundantly clear. Yes, Price knows that Simon is fully capable of looking out for himself, but he sure as hell isn’t giving him any chance of proving that. He’s also desperate to get out of the castle and away from the mothers attempting to shove their daughters at his feet. So, with huffed complaints about the weather, and the threat of oncoming rain, signaled by the gritty gray clouds blotting out the starlight, the two men set off. Hooves beat thunderously across stone, dirt and grass as they make their way past the walls of the city, through the dwindling suburbs of thatched roofs and smoking chimneys and out into the vast plains of the countryside. The fresh air is a welcome reprieve from the smoke and burning metal of forges, the grassy hills and fields stretching for miles a refreshing break from the towering monoliths of stone that make up the palace. He can see why people would like it out here, away from the banal chatter of gossip and the unrelenting noise, left to grow stagnant within the confines of winding alleys or houses packed so closely together. Simon hasn’t even met you, and yet he already finds himself sympathizing for the adjustment you’ll have to make.

You, meanwhile, feel surprisingly more grounded following your nap, having allowed both yourself and your horse to rest for a while before continuing your journey. The gnawing anxiety in your stomach is soothed by the handful of blackberries you’d found and snacked on as you continued through the slowly more sparse woodland, and although you’re still wallowing, at least you’re not wallowing on an empty stomach and no sleep.

The sun slowly inches west behind the cloud cover, which quickly replaces the forest canopy you’ve always known, and tells you that in your mental absence, another day has nearly come and gone, and with that, the mileage covered which draws you closer to your inevitable fate. The birdsong has long since gone quiet, and there’s no longer movement indicative of life in the shrubbery. Just you, and the parapet on which you seem to endlessly walk.

Until the forest seems to stop entirely. The trees halt their growth at some invisible boundary, wildflowers cease their spread with an unnatural abruptness and your stomach goes lurching. Like you’ve jumped from a cliff. You’ve jumped from a cliff, you’re about to hit the ground, and everything in you is screaming for time to stop, for fate to twist, for the inevitable to be somehow avoided.

You could turn back. You could still turn back, and the forest would welcome you home with open arms. You could go home to your sisters, to your mother and the magic woven into everything you’ve ever known.

You could turn back - but in turning back, you’d only shatter the fragile peace forged so weakly between your own people, and those who’ve come to take you away.

“Looks petrified.” Price observes from where he and Simon stand proud upon the hill, watching as a faerie on a white horse comes emerging tentatively from the treeline. You do, you poor, delicate thing, Simon thinks to himself as he, Price, and their imposing black friesians make their way to greet you.

Happy Foreigner's God day to those who celebrate 1.8k and 2k are basically the same so pls enjoy the 1st chapter 💕

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