#oooohhhh~ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Note

Do simon and bones ever get that night where they don’t have to be quiet?? And maybe simon loses himself and goes completely feral trying to pull as many noises from her as possible that make his brain melt?? 🥺

Ohhh anon. Yes, yes they do.

Love Is a Sin (Part One)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

◆

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Smoking, mention of war and military lifestyle, use of weaponry, dirty talk, mask kink, size kink, tiny praise kink, cockwarming (kinda?), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, fluffies and vulnerability, secrecy, protective Ghost (I yearn). Lmk if I missed anything!

◆

A/N: Enjoy part one my babies! Part two gets a little darker... I'm so excited.

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It’s not often that you find yourself here, this is actually your first genuine invitation. Any other reason was to simply grab materials for a craft or files from a desk. And whenever you did that, it was by yourself. Because when the boys were in here, those doors were locked tight, their voices a muted drone in the halls. No one was allowed access into the debriefing room unless given specific clearance from Price.

“Grab a seat.” The man of the hour speaks, motioning toward the table.

They’re already gathered around the captain’s spread of plans, all three of them. And when Price speaks to you, each and every one of their heads turn, eyes and brows moving with bewilderment. None of them knew you were attending this meeting, not even Ghost.

His eyes, above anyone else’s, widen. No one moves for a moment, not until Simon stands. Rising to his feet, he towers over every man, brows narrowing before he turns, grabbing one of the folding chairs leaning against the wall. With a quick jerk of his hand, the chair unfolds into its natural position. And then, he’s setting it down beside his own seat, lowering himself once again.

Johnny cocks an eye at his somewhat gentlemanly act, and although it’s done with sweet intention, you can practically feel Simon’s aversion to your presence. You knew this would upset him.

“Uncharted territory.” Price declares, a single, thick finger slamming down onto the map. “And that’s why we need her.” That finger is then directed at you. And as each man turns their head, you don’t feel intimidation, but pride, swelling within you.

But your partner, on the other hand, finds his insides rotting with disapproval. They knew where they’d be going, they knew what they’d be risking, but they had no idea they’d have to bring you. But aside from Simon, everyone there seemed thrilled.

“Finally get to see what yer all about.” Soap grins, giving you a rather rough pat on the back.

Gaz smiles, leaning onto the table with his forearms. “She knows what she’s doing.”

“Damn right.” And when you look up, Price is beaming with pride. He brought you to the base for a reason; he always knew you’d be a reliable member. “She’s the best we’ve got, and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

All this talk and Simon’s head hasn’t turned once, his eyes fixed completely on you. His stare is almost blank, lost, void of emotion as he begins to dissociate from this. Before you, only his family had gotten so close to him. And even now, you’re more important to him than they ever were. He’s never let himself get so wrapped up in this type of thing, an actual relationship. And now he’s going to be bringing you with him? He’s never even so much as trained with you. You’re not ready for this, and neither is he. But your unpreparedness is clearly developing in different ways.

“Ghost.”

Snapping his gaze toward the captain, he jostles his head. “Yeah?”

“We’re gonna need your head in the game for this one.”

“Always.”

And just like that, you’re running through the plans. No man’s land, disputed ground between your team and the enemy. Many squadrons have been deployed and just as many have died. With the team specializing in infiltration, counter-terrorism and covert assignment, they were the next group to be tasked with the mission. This wasn’t going to be a simple assignment.

But honestly, you’re not here for any of that. You don’t specialize in any type of infiltration or counter-terrosim techniques. Right now, you’re a medic, and with the zone they’re invading, Price wants you on deck in case anyone gets hurt. They have a better chance of making it through if they have someone that can quickly wrap up a wound. It also helps that you have experience in the field, but both physically and mentally. Before becoming a medic, and now lead medic at the base, you specialize in close quarter combat and weapons tactics, traits Price found just as valuable. He knows you won’t hold them back.

Simon knows all of this, he knows better than anyone just how good you are at this. But you’ve never experienced this kind of warfare, and he doesn’t want you to witness it. He also doesn't want you to witness the kind of man he is during it.

“We’re due to set off tomorrow evening. We’ll use the cover of night to be dropped in over the mountains, where we’ll then hike. It’s about a twenty kilometer trek from there to the safe house. There, we’ll get our rest, reconvene and set out for the building.”

Sliding his finger to one portion of the map, he displays the safe house’s location. Continuing to move, he then shows just how close the targeted building is.

Price’s voice dips dangerously low when he explains, “Only eight kilometers away.”

“How is it a safe house if it’s that close to enemy lines?” Soap asks, twisting his face in confusion.

“The enemy has yet to infiltrate that forest, they know nothing of its ground or the layout. They wouldn’t risk crossing uncharted territory just to explore a piece of land they aren’t interested in. Besides, the house is surrounded by landmines and snares, something we’ll need to pay attention to and avoid.”

With emphasis on his last word, those deep baby blues then drift to Gaz, who’s trying to duck away like some embarrassed tortoise. “I know, I know.” The team remembers Gaz’s mistake far too well, tossing a rock to test the space before nearly blowing himself to bits.

“Any other questions?”

About a million, though he doesn’t say it. They all revolve around you, anyway.

“Right.” Slapping a hand against the table, he then stands. “We’re clear to move out tomorrow evening, eighteen hundred hours. Am I clear?”

“Clear.” The three men proclaim in unison, prompting you to jump slightly in your seat. And Ghost chuckles.

“C-Clear.” You repeat, feeling foolish doing so by yourself.

Price grins, giving you a cheeky wink. He knows you’ll fit in given the right amount of time. “Night lads.” Your captain then states, giving you a nod. “And lass.”

Everything feels thick and heavy - your clothes, the air, the shaft invading your most intimate space. His sighs are full of spearmint and tobacco, hints of his cologne floating up to your nose. Every sense feels invigorated, the emotions of embarrassment and exposure melting away just from being in his presence. Simon calms you, he grounds you.

“Christ,” His breaths come out in humid puffs, seeping out through the top crack of the window. It intermingles with the nighttime air, the darkening atmosphere as it fades to dusk. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Bulky arms wrap around your midsection, one hand dipping down to fist your ass. It’s then that you feel him pulse against your walls, prompting a delighted sigh from your throat.

“I think I know.” Your sultry voice responds, hips moving gracefully over his pelvis. But your breaths are still heavy, enjoying the cool breeze that occasionally drifts in. And those heavy wafts of air soak into his neck when you lean in, running your lips over his ear. “I think I know exactly what I do to you.”

Those sweetly sinful words give the allusion of rough and quick sex, all teeth and tongue and torn clothes. But that’s not what this is about, not right now, not at all. It’s passionate, sensual, but slow and needy, too. Your motions are relaxed, Simon’s hands encouraging the gradual roll of your hips. And when you’re not speaking to him, or him to you, you’re lifting yourself up to his mouth. Here, the tips of your tongues touch, just barely dancing together as you tease one another, before inevitably falling back down to mouth tenderly at his neck.

“You’re so fucking good,” He praises, thick fingers pressing into your backside as he pants briefly. “Give me more, oh, god… more.”

Rocking his hips upward, he meets your sensual rolls, finding unison with you. From the moment you crawled onto his lap in the backseat of his Jeep, his eyes were on you, on your pretty face and every expression you make. Even now, he reaches out, cupping your cheek and bringing you down to him with a gentle force that screams Simon.

His mouth consumes your own, his entire tongue sliding inside while his moan vibrates down your throat. It’s then that he twitches against your delicate channel, gasping into your mouth, breathing in your air. Holding you down on his lap, he forces you to still, now choosing to thrust up.

“Simon,”

“God,” He groans, shoving himself up into your center over and over again. And at this point, it’s a familiar feeling, the sensation of being overly full, stretched to your limit and still wanting more. “Love it when you say my name.”

Leaning backward against the seat, he urges you to put your weight on his chest, planting his feet on the floor of the car to gain better leverage. Here, he punches himself into your sex, reveling in the way it squeezes hotly around him.

“Fucking C-Christ.”

The Jeep rocks from the force of it, your collective moans spilling out into the nighttime air. But neither of you are worried. You’d found this spot to be particularly secluded, even from the constant patrols. Parked amongst the trees with the car off, at nearly midnight, seemed to be your new routine. It was the closest you could get to feeling free.

“Take it off.” Your Lieutenant then requests, one hand lifting to your chest.

He palms you roughly, slowing the action down as he then decides on a tender rub; he wants to show you how gentle he can be. So, while considering both his actions and words, he moves carefully, speaks gently. “Can I see?”

“Mhm,” With a wide grin, you nod, glancing down to undo the front of your quarter zip. The easiest way to give him access is to guide your sports bra up and over the tops of your breasts, exposing yourself to him.

“Oh,” Ghost groans, ducking his head into the crook of your neck. “Lovely.” He says it as his hand returns, doing his best to not let the material of his glove scratch you too rough.

Your lover’s touch has grown quite accustomed to your feminine features, your smooth skin, your most delicate places. Instead of running over it with quick motions, his thumb touches your nipple gently, just barely rubbing tiny circles into it. And he listens to your breath, too. The lungs give everything away.

“Baby, please…”

“What d’you want, love?” Mumbling into your neck, he kisses it, loosening his grip and allowing you to move again. And instantly, you do, wrapping your arms around his neck and bouncing down onto him.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Now that your shirt is open, it leaves you vulnerable to the roughness of his tac vest. And it scratches you harshly, zippers and velcro scraping across your sensitive skin. But in truth, you like it. It’s almost like another mark he can give.

“Fuck, those whimpers… that’s gonna make me bust right inside.”

Regardless of your place in the woods, you still have to keep yourself quiet. You and Simon have yet to have a night where you can fully be yourselves, where you can fully indulge in each other. This has been the closest thing to it.

“S-Simon,” Your voice is light, airy and shaky. And you’re clinging to him for dear fucking life, because not only has he matched your fervent pace, he’s exceeded it. “Baby.”

“Take it,” He nearly growls, “Take it in your tight cunt.”

The muscles lining your insides flutter from his words, from his brute force. Sex with Simon was always so passionate, so intimate; it was a different type of experience. And you’ve fully leaned into it since the first night you got to experience him.

“Fucking hell, princess, I can feel it. You’re gonna cum on me.” And he really can; your velvety center pulsing around him, around the thick intrusion repeatedly splitting you open.

But the way he says it almost embarasses you, and he chuckles when you duck down to hide your face from him. Smooshing your cheeks against his neck, your quiet grunts come with his every thrust.

“C’mon, baby.” He coos with a grin, encouraging you. And something about Simon using the word baby makes you absolutely swoon. “Like it when you cum on me… you know that.”

It’s then that you finally give in, a sense of pleasure bursting from your lower pelvis and reaching into every limb. The entire sensation is a true release, mentally and physically. Both of his hands find your backside as he rides you through it, squeezing harshly while your pelvis ruts over him, your entire body trembling.

“That’s it…” Eyes rolling back, he drops his head against the seat’s headrest. But his hold on you hasn’t given up just yet.

His own euphoria shoots from his insides when your fingernails find him, digging into his skin. Your slender digits scratch at his neck, at the tendons between his throat and shoulder, and it just fucking sends him.

Ghost has gotten quite comfortable releasing inside you. The two of you had forgone condoms fairly quickly. And in the beginning, it was due to the rush of things, the need to have the other right then and there, or at least, as soon as you could. But now, it’s for the feeling, the intimacy. There’s really nothing else like it. In truth, he always hated the latex barrier when it came to you.

Shivering briefly, you release an affectionate breath, a shaky inhale before cuddling into him. Used to this reaction by now, both of those bulky arms wrap around your back, holding you against his chest. He finds it endearing, your need for closeness, especially as the two of you come down.

Smoothing a hand over your head, he kisses the top of it, rumbling to you in that deep, entrancing voice, “You’re so good for me.”

And he means it in more ways than this. Truly, you bring out the niceness in him, whatever amount of it he has left. The longer you and Simon stayed together, the more you connected, the more you felt like you could really do this. Your relationship could be sustainable, and you could be vulnerable.

Every chance Simon got, he took to your side. In the training yard, he’d lift weights adjacent to your station. In the cafeteria, he always saved you a seat next to him. And in the debriefing room, he pulled up a chair for you beside him. And while the two of you were busy gravitating towards each other, your teammates were busy with eyeing your movements. It was starting to look suspicious.

“You alright, love?”

Even when he’s done, and his breaths have steadied, he rests inside you. He did this often, especially when you rode him. While your need for closeness was expressed with words, his was expressed with actions. And this action, was one of his favorites.

“Mhm,” Grinning, your eyes shut, your body weight resting comfortably on his chest. Removing your arms from around his neck, they instead loop around his wide midsection, hugging him.

He’d been trying to ignore the issue at hand, the issue that’s only an issue to him. And while you riding him was more than a good enough distraction, now, he was now in his head again. Feeling you wrap your arms around him softens something inside his heart, and now more than ever, he wants to keep you protected.

With a small grunt, he shifts, arms lifting behind your back. Listening closely, you can hear the velcro separating on his hand, and then the drop of a single glove onto the seat to your left. Simon’s warmth then envelopes your chest, the slow drag of his naked hand across your breasts. He caresses them fondly, before focusing on the right.

“Didn’t get to enjoy these much.” Your soldier murmurs, cupping your tit and pushing it up toward his waiting mouth.

Lips, warm and wet, wrap around your nipple, sucking softly on it. His palm is warm, fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. It’s his favorite part of you, after all. He knew it before even seeing their bare skin.

“Hm…” Reaching up to the back of his head, you release a relaxing breath. Your head drops back as you cradle him against your chest, feeling the passionate massage he begins to give them. “Love this, Si…”

“Mm,” He moans in response, eyes closing as he enjoys you.

He feels surrounded by you, and you by him. Resting like this together feels so special, almost sacred. You crave it. A profound sense of longing fills you, and you feel foolish, because he’s right here. He’s here with you and still, you can’t get enough.

Sliding your hands around to his cheeks, your head turns as you lean in. Lips press sweetly to his second skin, the black fabric covering his temple. And it makes him chuckle quietly, kissing the slope of your breast.

“Like my mask?”

“Mhm,” Your lips curl into a devilish grin while pressing against him, holding his head even closer to you.

“Do you…” With a deep breath, he lifts his head, eyes finding you. “Do you ever wish you could see my face?”

With this question, you still, looking at him with a quietly shocked expression. Swallowing, you think before speaking, knowing that your words need to be respectful and calculated. But it only takes one for a decent response that can also be truthful.

“Yes.”

Just barely nodding, Simon’s heart pounds inside his chest. Now that he knows this, he feels like he’s disappointed you.

“But I know you don’t want to show me.” You continue, surprising him. “And that’s okay.”

And you think this is the most innocent those deep brown eyes have ever looked. His brows raise beneath the mask, taken aback by your reaction.

“It really is, Si.” And your sweet smile capitalizes on your sentiment.

Your presence in Simon’s life, the grace you give him, it all still astounds him. Some six months later and still, you continue to bring purpose to his life every single day. He hasn’t quite realized it, but that’s exactly how he sees it.

Without another word spoken, his hand rises to the back of your head, bringing you down for a passionate kiss. Your own hands slide down to his jaw, petting lightly at the blonde stubble he has. And you count yourself lucky he’s even let you see that.

“Want a smoke with me?” Simon asks against your lip, nipping at your lower one when you grin.

“Sure, baby.”

Shifting onto one side of his hip, he grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket before settling back onto the seat. With one item going to his lips, the other is held up to you, quick to be taken by one of your hands. It’s endearing when he does this, silently asking for a bit of help, even if it’s as small as this.

His face, the features you’ve been allowed to see, light up from the small fire. The quiet sizzle of the joint hums in this small lull before he takes a breath in, fingers grabbing the end. Turning, he releases the smoke into the air, feeling your hand drop the lighter onto the seat beside him. And while this hushed pause should resemble a sense of peacefulness, it prompts a certain worry inside you.

“Si?”

“Yeah?” When his eyes return to you, they’re squinted slightly, eyebrows furrowed. But not in anger or annoyance. What’s bothering him?

“Are you okay?” Lifting your hand, you lay it over his cheek, fingertips brushing over that black mask. “You seem…quiet. Quieter than normal.” And your small poke at him makes both of you grin.

With a sigh, he lifts the cig, offering it to you and then watching you take it. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes when he says, “Don’t know how I feel about you tagging along, sweets.”

Without meaning to, he questions your abilities, the same abilities you’ve trained for years to gain. But you take his comment better than he expected.

“Yeah?” You chuckle, raising a brow as you tease, “Afraid I’ll show you up?” Another puff and you’re handing it back to him, curious about what’s going on inside that skull.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that.” Casually, he shakes his head, inhaling on his pass. “Place we’re going is… it’s not a place for you to be.”

“I know it’s dangerous, Si. That’s why I’m going, so I can help you guys.” You knew it, you fucking knew he’d have an issue with you coming. You just weren’t sure how deep that worry was.

And now, he’s silent for a minute, a long minute. Looking away from your gaze, those deep eyes wander to the window, searching for the right words to say. Something along the lines of… “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Awe…” Again, you’re teasing, poking fun to avoid the real conflict. Neither of you want to have a serious conversation, not when your entire life is one giant critical discussion. But you have to admit, you like seeing this side of him.

Leaning in, you nuzzle his temple, your voice turning quiet and sweet. “I like it when you’re soft with me, big boy. Makes me feel like you care.”

“‘Course I do.”

And when you snuggle even further into him, his eyes close, a heavy breath released from his nose. It’s a silent response, his body reacting to your genuine adoration for him. He makes sure to keep his head still, wanting you to continue the loving motion. And you do, reveling in the way his arm returns to circle around you.

It’s not about him doubting you, it’s about him protecting you. He knows you can handle yourself, and he found that incredibly attractive when you first met. But now? He just wants to keep you safe, make sure you stay on base and never have to see combat again. But Price was the one to call the shot this time.

On the other hand, Ghost is also worried about the team. Specifically, he’s worried about them discovering your relationship. No one knows about the two of you except for Johnny, and neither of you want anyone else to find out. And if you somehow get hurt out there, his emotions are sure to expose themselves. There’s not a single chance his affection for you won’t show, his angry and possessive nature sure to shine through. After that, they’re bound to figure it out.

“I’ll be with you,” Comes your gentle response. “How could I ever get hurt when I’m with you?”

Sweet, he thinks. But it’s not enough to reassure him.

The helo ride is easy, nothing that gives you jitters in any sort of way. The only thing you wish was different, was the view - there isn’t one. The entire ride is done with complete cover, not a window in sight as you all sit in the far back, strapped to your seats and waiting to be told otherwise.

Johnny had insisted you hunker down with him, he honestly wants to get to know you a bit more. Especially now that you’re dating his best friend. He also wanted to distract said friend; Simon needs to keep his head on straight. But Ghost wasn’t having any of that. Not because he was worried Soap would make a move, but because he promised himself you wouldn’t be leaving his side for even a second throughout this trip.

While sitting beside each other, you find yourself wanting him, yearning for his touch, to lean against his shoulder or even hold his hand. But the closest you two settle for is the touching of your knees. Around the boys, you manspread just like them. So, while leaning back in your seat, you do just that. And of course, Simon doesn’t move an inch. He likes your need for touch, it matches his quite nicely. It might even make him smile beneath his mask.

“Drop point,” Price announces, “Comin’ up fast.”

And upon command, the four of you release your buckles, standing to correct your straps. Simon eyes you from his peripheral as you adjust your vest, leaning down to check the pistol in your thigh holster and then the one secured to your stomach. He finds it attractive, watching you train your knowledge of weapons. But he shakes those thoughts out of his head. Right now, he’s making sure the way you’re loading them is correct.

Hovering above the designated location, each of you approaches the sliding door. Once Price tosses the rope down, he’s the first one on it, landing on the ground with a firm thud and immediately securing the area. Then, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. You’re last, and it’s for your best interest. It gives you the advantage of watching them, taking notes on how to do this. And when you finally secure your gloves and grab hold of the rope, you look to them on the ground. But it’s not the team you find. Grinning, your eyes immediately lock, his trained on you beneath that stoic mask. He’s standing at the bottom, staring up and waiting for you. And all he wants to do is tell you to stay, or at the very least, catch you. But all he can do is watch as you slide down, restraining himself from wrapping his arm around you once you’re on the ground.

His Reckoner gear is menacing, though his attire usually is. The black jacket matches the shawl slung loosely around his neck, draping down onto his chest. Shielding him from the rapidly growing winds is his outfit’s hood, tight around his head and mask. You find yourself favoring this look, so dark and mysterious. It’s how you first saw him when you met. And you’re dressed similarly, your entire outfit made up of black and gray canvas, a scarf around your neck and gloves on your hands, with your own hood up, too.

Only a small part of you tries to separate yourself from him, but it doesn't reach surface level, not even close. Regardless of wanting to hide your relationship, you stick to each other like glue. Taking his position at the rear of the group, he makes sure to keep his strides in line with you, matching your pace expertly as you continue forward.

The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, and again, you find yourself longing for him. With a devious thought creeping into your mind, you let your hand fall to your side, wandering further enough to swipe your pinky across his thumb.

“Think you’re ready for this?” A deep, Scottish accent suddenly asks.

Jumping sharply, your hand instantly flinches away from your lieutenant. “W-What?”

“Bit jumpy, there?”

Smirking, you roll your eyes, hands grabbing the straps of your vest. “I’m just fine, Johnny.” And then, you nod, feigning an air of smugness. “What about you?”

“Born ready, sweetheart.”

Ghost huffs. “Born a pretty boy.” But even he’s grinning as he says it.

“Fuckin’ grump,” Soap teases, walking backward and just ahead of you two so he can continue talking. “We’re only an hour in.”

“And still needing to secure our position.” Dad - Price, snaps, reminding Soap to keep his voice down.

At this, Johnny’s eyes widen, his body jerking around before jogging forward to catch up with the rest of the group. You chuckle at his reaction, but Ghost doesn’t make another sound as you continue. He’s too busy with his own thoughts to converse with you.

Flurries of snow buzz around your covered heads, sticking to the fabric of your scarves, the hairs of your eyelashes and the scruff on the boys’ chins. It brings about a certain childlike bliss, a winter wonderland in the midst. Smiling innocently at the beautiful landscape around you, those joyful emotions soon dissipate alongside your captain’s voice.

“Ice ahead.” He declares, signaling for the rest of you to ready yourselves. And with a deep breath, that’s just what you attempt to do.

“Grab your ice axe.” Simon murmurs, twisting around to grab his own.

“I know.” You sass, reaching back for the tools in your pack.

Easily, he dismisses your attitude. All he wants is for you to be prepared, adding on, “A bundle of rope, too.

Approaching the mountain, you ready yourself. Almost as if staring a beast in the eye, you stand flat on your feet, staring up at the vast landscape. It’s intimidating, this imposing piece of nature. Familiar winds sweep across the rocky edges, brushing the snow from its various levels. And beneath it lay thick layers of ice, sheet after sheet sliding down the summit’s side.

“You and I can go first, get to the top fast as we can.” Simon decides, planting a hand on your lower back and ushering you toward the front of the group.

“Why?”

“Let’s go.” Easily, Simon pushes his way forward, right beside you.

His added attention to your every move is noticeable within the group. And honestly, it’s starting to irritate you. To an extent, it’s insulting, especially in front of the other men. But you need to focus on the task at hand, and that doesn’t include any of your emotions about him.

Reaching up, a small grunt is released as you swing your pick, digging it into the ice. And once Simon is sure you have your footing, he starts up right alongside you. He’s below your stance and slightly to your right, watching your steps while trying to keep his own in check. But to his surprise, you’re doing fairly well for your first time. The burn in your muscles is nothing compared to the determination to prove Price right. He won’t regret bringing you on this mission.

However, repeatedly hoisting your body up while trying to find your footing is becoming increasingly difficult as you go on, gravity beginning to weigh heavy against your body. Every step is met with a disgruntled groan or grunt, with Ghost’s echoing below you. Eventually, you start to hear the rest of the team’s noises, each man climbing up at their own pace.

“You alright, lass?”

“Ye-ah,” Comes your breathy response, releasing an airy laugh. “This isn’t so h–hard.”

You’re speaking as you climb, with every other word coming out between some type of guttural noise. And further beneath your feet, Johnny laughs in return.

“McTavish, watch your footing.” Price chides, his voice hurried and a bit frantic. It startles you. “McTavish!”

Breaking open your seemingly sound world is the sudden cracking of ice, your eyes going wide. The sound of frozen water splitting between the five of you echoes along the summit’s climb, and soon after, your teammates’ yells, too.

“Soap!”

Glancing down, you barely have time to react before Ghost is barking at you. “Head up!”

Instantly, your head snaps upward, breaths labored as worry consumes you. Your ears ring with the sudden spike of adrenaline forcing blood through your veins, heart pumping from the appearance of your base instincts.

“Keep going!” He continues to shout, “That’s an order, Bones!”

With everything in you, you want to look down, especially when you hear the boys’ continuation of panicked shouts. But beside you, Ghost’s movements pick up, your own now excelling forward, too.

Simon’s chest heaves beside you as he scrambles up the side of the mountain, your movements now just as fast. Stab after stab, you hurl your arms upward against the ice, forcing the axe into the thick sheets.

“S-Simon.”

“Keep going.” Is all he says, all he’s able to say.

And in the blink of an eye, you’re at the top curve. Simon hauls himself over the side, immediately leaning over the cliff’s edge to reach for your hand.

“Take it! Take it now!”

“Price!” Gaz yells in the distance, a heavy thud heard at the bottom of the cliff.

“John.” You barely whimper, thinking the worst has come.

The firm grip of your lieutenant’s hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, yanking you up and over the edge. You land on your stomach with a hard unff, Simon’s hand now settling over your lower back. He can’t see anything, a thick dusting of snow covering the lower half of their climb. For a moment, he thinks about yelling, but chooses to flick on his comms instead.

“Price?” He questions into the mic, eyes searching frantically for any one of them. “Soap?”

“We’re here.”

“What the bloody hell happened?”

“Wrong, wrong move.” Johnny huffs through the link. “Ice cracked, Price fell. Me shortly after; Gaz was still close to the ground.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Just a bit.” Price finally answers, and this is when you move to sit up. But Simon’s firm hand on your back keeps you down. “I’ll be fine, just a sore back.”

“Orders?” Now that he knows no one is severely injured, he needs to know the team’s next moves. He is second in command, after all.

“Simon?” Again, you try to push yourself up, but the pressure he applies becomes firmer, his fingers curling into your jacket.

“Stay.” He demands, his voice dark and stern. If you were anyone else, you’d think it was a warning.

“We’ll have to trek around, but…” Trailing off for a moment, the captain finishes with, “It’ll add a day to our hike.”

A moment of silence passes, and Simon leans away from the cliff, settling beside you. Finally, he lets you up, turning his head as he watches you gather your bearings beside him.

“Hike on,” Price decides. “Secure the safe house, we’ll be a day behind. This path is lost.”

“No reconvene?” Ghost clarifies, wondering if the team should get their heads on straight after being separated like this. And upon this suggestion, Price grows silent in thought.

“Setting up camp would be smart. Give us a rest, some time to calm down and gather ourselves.” He finally agrees, then declaring, “We’ll stay for the night; right thinking, Ghost. We’re to be up and moving no later than dawn, am I clear?”

“Clear. I’ll expect your comms in twenty-four.”

“Affirmative. Bravo Six, out.”

With that, Simon stands, your eyes trailing up his large figure while he adjusts his gear. Labored breaths continue to form within your lungs, now stung from the harsh winter air.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re heading off on our own.” Your partner confirms, brushing the snow from his pants.

“How are they? Is anyone hurt?” The comms transferred to his earpiece, you were only able to hear his responses.

“Nothing severe, they’re choosing a different path. It’ll add a day, but Price wants us to continue on.” Tilting your head, your curious expression prompts further information from him. “We’ll make camp for the night though, give us time to rest.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll locate and secure the safehouse, wait for them to arrive.” Leaning down, he holds a hand out, helping you up once you take it. “You alright?”

Now that you’re alone, he grabs your shoulders, rubbing them for both comfort and warmth. “You’re shivering.”

“Just cold.” Shrugging, you brush it off as just that, feeling chilly. Though, it’s partially due to shock, and Simon knows it. It’s been more than five years since you were last in the field; maybe you weren’t fully ready for this.

“You’re alright, love.” Guiding you to his chest, he sighs, holding the back of your head. “No one’s hurt.”

All you do is nod against him, pulling up your big girl pants and shoving aside your emotions. He’s right, everything’s fine, just a small bump in the road.

“We should make camp.” He suggests, the surrounding scenery darkening as he speaks.

Your current location is far enough away to make a small fire and not draw any attention from the targeted enemy. So naturally, it’s the first thing Simon does, right after finding a small patch of brush for you to set the tent. It’s a small thing, just barely big enough to fit one man. But neither of you mind squeezing inside together. You don’t have sleeping bags, but what you do have are Mylar thermal blankets. Which will have to do, and are actually useful in these situations.

“Bones.” Ghost quietly calls, and when you look over your shoulder, you find him huddled near the fire. He then jerks his head to the side, beckoning for you. “Cm’over here.”

While rubbing your hands together, you make your way over to him, sitting down by the little fire he’s built. It’s enough to bring you warmth, though, the pulsing embers doing wonders for your frozen appendages.

“Any better?”

“A little better.” With your hands outstretched toward the flames, you nod, eyes trained on the wispy bits of fire floating through the wind.

Upon your response, he scooches closer, positioning himself behind you. Here, he spreads his legs, laying them on either side of your own and pulling you in between them, right up against his chest. You smile as he drags you back, allowing him to hold you between his legs. His cold, covered chin then finds your shoulder, both arms wrapping around your midsection.

Rumbling to you quietly, he asks again, “Any better?”

The smile on your face burns brighter than the fire. “A lot better.”

Shifting slightly, you relax into his body, basking in the fact that you can so openly cuddle up together. And when he feels your entire weight fall into him, he hums, kissing your shoulder through the mask. He’s become such an affectionate man around you.

Inside, your heart beats for him. Thinking back to the scenario on the cliff, you replay Simon’s protective acts in your head. His verbal directions, both before and during the event, his physical motions of pulling you up to safety and then keeping a hand on your back.

“Si?”

“Hm?” He returns, mouth full of a protein bar. While you ponder your question, he hands you one, too.

“Why did you hold me down? By my back?”

He chews his food much slower now, thinking. Never before has he thought through his responses so thoroughly before meeting you. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing; he’s quite frightened of it, actually.

“Didn’t know if anyone was hurt.” He eventually returns, and you’re confused until he finishes his statement. “Didn’t want you seeing something like that.”

And while you appreciate the meaning behind his actions, it prompts a certain fear within you. He can’t continue to fight your battles for you, not when you’re out in the field. He has to be himself, not a modified version just because you’re here. He can’t be Simon, he has to be Ghost. And still, you can’t help but feel grateful for him, all of him.

“Thank you.”

The day was cold but the night was frigid, your thermal blankets doing little to shield you from the frozen hell you were in. What helped build heat beneath the metallic blankets, though, were your bodies. It was Simon who suggested it, and you didn’t think twice once he did. There was nothing sexual behind it, only concern and genuine care.

As soon as you were at his side, huddled within the tent, his arms snaked tightly around your stomach. Naked beneath the crinkly cover, Simon hugged you to his body, not only for heat but for comfort. His masked face easily found its way to your neck, body curling around yours like a protective outer shell. And in this way, he warmed you, inside and out.

Feeling Simon’s naked body served to bring you a sense of relaxation you didn’t think you’d find on this mission. Being able to sleep beside him was also an incredibly relieving act you didn't think you’d get to experience while deployed. Now that it’s just the two of you, you’re free to bask in each other’s company, reveling in the sweet way your souls connect. It’s not just about physical attraction for you two, not anymore. What you have is chemical. You’ve become each other’s best friend - companions; it’s just natural for you to be together. Even like this, pressed against each other in complete nakedness without an ounce of sexual intention in the air, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, not for either of you. Those bulky forearms nestled right beneath your breasts, feeling the smooth curves lay against him. And his flaccid length pressed against your backside, his strong hold keeping you nice and close throughout the night. Neither of you cared. There wasn’t room for insecurity between the two of you, not after all you’ve been through.

“You’re my girl.” Simon whispered to you, mask lifted just enough for him to kiss your ear.

His eyes were closed as he spoke, body tired and sore and lulling him to sleep. But not before murmuring, “You’re mine; mine to keep.”

But that was last night. This morning isn’t so sweet.

While Simon continued to display his ever-growing and extremely doting personality, the weather was still acting like a petty bitch. Wild winds surged through your small camp when you awoke, gathering your things once dawn hit the sky. Simon stamped out the fire, you packed up the tent, and off you went.

“How much farther is it again?”

“About twelve kilometers.”

The dramatic groan you exude makes his lips curl beneath the mask, eyes turning to witness your adorably irritated face.

“C’mon,” He teases, that smirk revealed through his tone. “You can make it.”

“Can I borrow your mask?” You then ask, a grin curling on your lips.

Rolling his eyes, they land on you, an unamused expression swirling within them.

“Look, you’re being stingy with it.” Continuing with your charade, you then add, “It’s freezing out here. My cheeks are getting all chapped.”

At this, he huffs out a single laugh. “Looks pretty damn cute to me.”

It’s interesting, you think. All of this started with you making fun of his mask, and now, you adore it. You adore him.

Both of you are thankful for the common knowledge of swift and silent movement as you trek on through the harsh, mountainous terrain. The quicker you get there, the quicker you’re able to rest. Price mentioned that the cabin even had heat and running water, a true reprieve for you all. At least, for the time being. Besides, you can’t get too carried away just yet. You still have to secure the area before enjoying it.

“Looks to be a bit easier from here.” Ghost announces, coming to stand on top of a ridge you haven’t yet arrived at. But when you do, you’re met with flat, snowy terrain.

“Thank god.”

“C’mon, hasn’t been that hard.”

And he’s right. Aside from that icy cliff incident, this hike has been a piece of cake. Nothing to complain about on your end, really; messing with Simon was just fun sometimes. He always fell for your antics, too. Something about you acting weak and frail just made him want to care for you. And that’s something you’d never protest.

Walking with you was nice and easy; you understood him and his preference for silence. It’s a trait you both shared. Why speak if there’s nothing to be said?

“Have we got a plan?” Simon then says, deciding this is something that should definitely be said.

“About?”

“The safe house, how we’re going to secure it.”

“Well, I don’t really have any experience in searching for and disarming traps. I think that’s on you, buddy.”

“Yeah?” Buddy, it makes him chuckle. “And what will you do?”

“Cover your six?” It’s a suggestion; you can still be helpful. “I can scope out the treeline, make sure Price was right about enemies not crossing over the lines.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

And what a good plan it was. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine as soon as you arrived at the safe house, finally reaching your destination in the early evening. Either you just work well together, or you were simply eager for some rest. Likely both.

“Scanning.” Keeping your eye on the surrounding treeline, you speak into your comms, listening to Ghost rustle through the brush not too far off in the distance. “Movement.”

“Friendlies?” Ghost immediately returns, fidgeting with something on his head. You can hear it through your small speaker, assuming he’s handling a trip-wire.

Upon further inspection, you release the tight breath you’d been holding. “Deer.”

“Copy.” He returns, going about his given task.

Knowing you have his back makes his job that much easier. And if he’s being completely honest, seeing you with a gun in your hand, your expert eye skimming the treeline, it was attractive. Turned him on, actually, as much as he needed to focus he just couldn’t help it. He admires your work ethic. Even when he had watched your body climb up the sheets of ice, he admired it, eyeing the way your muscles twisted and flexed beneath the canvas of your pants, the way he could see right up between your legs. It’s a wonder he didn’t get even a semi while climbing. But he’s thankful you hadn’t distracted him to that extent.

“Clear.” Simon grumbles into the comms, “Moving south.”

Shifting in the trees, you stay adjacent to him, watching his figure from behind. You’re ready to face any possible enemies, but are thrilled to find this portion of the job has been just as easy as the rest.

“Clear.” He then repeats, finalizing his task. “Moving in.”

Desperately, he wants to relax, find his way inside and just be for a moment. Price said there’d be heat and running water, and Christ, is he looking forward to that.

“Bones?”

“Copy.”

“You following?”

“Coming in.” You confirm, walking up from behind, your position still crouched and eyes zeroed in on the treeline.

Walking into the clearing toward the small home, you almost feel naked, exposed. Every step you make is in Ghost’s footprint, following his every movement to avoid the traps. And once Ghost is on the wooden steps at the front, you glance over your shoulder, taking one last look at the perimeter.

“C’mon,” Simon almost coos, fatigue seeping into his voice. “We’re clear, love.”

Typing in the code Price had given him, Simon unlocks the door and with a harsh nudge, makes his way in. The house is made up of one central room, a side bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen space. In the living area is a single couch, and further in the bedroom you see a mattress. Hopefully something to help Simon’s back.

“Might hear a bit of noise,” Simon says, walking off toward the kitchen. “I’m kicking on the furnace.”

“That is fine by me.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, you let your body fall onto the couch, dropping your pack to the floor. “I could use some warmth.”

An abrupt thud rattles the baseboards as the rusty furnace burns to life, a small whoosh of dust fluttering from the vents. The soot briefly filling the air disturbs your lungs, a small bout of coughs overcoming you. But for Simon, it does nothing, his mask guarding him from any of the pollen-like pollution.

Casually, he strides your way, plopping down beside you on the couch. He sits alongside a long and raspy sigh, his body right against yours as he wraps his arms around you. Apparently, one of his favorite things to do.

“C’mere,” He says quietly, pulling you to lean back against his chest. And he enjoys it when you snuggle into him, resting against his firmness.

Placing his fingers beneath your chin, he lifts your head, and when you turn to meet him you discover his bare lips. They’re dry and chapped, both of your mouths as they press together, but neither of you really care. You’re yearning for each other, and very suddenly aware that you have an entire cabin to yourselves. And as Simon holds your face with his gloved hand, his kisses become sweet, sensual slides and meetings that make your heart beat.

“How are you?” He asks in that deep, rumbly tone, still full of genuine care.

“Tired,” You breathe out with a short laugh. “Sore.”

“Mm,” Your love nods, gifting you with another small kiss. It’s short and sweet, the gentle stamp of his lips. “Why don’t you have a shower with me?” He’d eyed the bed in the backroom, too, thinking about how wonderful it might feel to lay down in it after washing yourselves clean. But in this moment, that’s not at all what you’re thinking about.

Is he going to let me see his face?

You’re shocked he even asked, you never thought you’d get an opportunity like this with him. And so, with your eyes flickering up to meet his, you nod. “Okay.”

“Won’t be too luxurious,” His voice rumbles across your skin, dark eyes staring down at your charming little face. “Grimy shower, no soap. Just enough water to wash the sweat off our skin.”

Sleepily, you smile. “That’s good enough for me.”

The strength he continues to use even beneath the weight of fatigue is astounding. You’re not quite sure how he has it in him, but he holds you up from behind, cradling your body in his arms. And it’s not like you weigh much, but it still impresses you. There’s not much Simon does that hasn’t impressed you.

Warmly, the water cascades down your body, droplets rolling over the hills and valleys of your skin. And it’s so pleasurable that you moan, eyes closing as your head tilts back to rest against him. Briefly, it frightens him, his eyes dipping down to your relaxed face. He’s reassured by the small flutter of your lashes, a display of respect for him. Before getting in, Simon told you not to look at his face. And while it made your heart sink, you really should’ve known better than to expect that from him.

On his end, this is just as nice, if not even more. With his mask off, he uses one hand to run down his face, then ruffling it through his short hair.

“Simon?” You ask, feeling him reach up, brushing water through his locks.

“Mm?”

Still temporarily blind, you ask him, “What color is your hair?”

That deep laugh bounces off the tile walls, and it makes you smile, heart beating with a certain affection you’re not yet ready to admit to him.

“What color do you think it is?”

“Well, your stubble is blonde, and your happy trail…” Grinning, you reach behind you, fingers petting at the damp patch of hairs leading down to his groin.

“Blonde.” Simon repeats, both hands returning to your hips.

Leaning down, his head tilts, lips brushing your cheek as he says, “That’s what I am.”

For a moment, when you feel his hands roam, you assume it to be sexual. But it isn’t, not at first anyways. While you bask in this new knowledge, Simon washes your body, hands running over your shoulders and arms, your stomach, your hips and thighs.

“You’re tense.” That grumbling voice says, rubbing your shoulders. “Give you a proper rub when I bring you back to base.” And the way he says it makes you swoon, something about his wording making you feel cared for, protected.

“You’d do that for me?”

For a flash, you consider the danger of your situation. You’re both living in a fantasy right now, showering together for the first time, enjoying each other’s company while you’re supposed to be guarding the safe house. But apparently, Simon’s quite sure of the absence of any danger.

Shifting slightly, your Ghost’s broad palms rise to cup your tits, groaning softly into your ear as his head dips down to your neck. Here, his lips work over you, kissing you sensually beneath the warm spray.

“‘Course I would.”

When you sigh, your head falls back a bit further, truly exposing your neck. And this gives him the perfect opportunity for his dominant hand to lift a little higher, fingers encircling your neck. A spike of adrenaline hits your blood, your pulse jumping when it happens. You keep your eyes from flashing open, instead flashing him your grin.

“I want you, sweetheart.” Simon openly admits, his firmly toned body pressing against your back. “While there’s no one around… no one here but you and me…”

“Baby,” Reaching back, you use one arm to wrap around his neck, fingers combing up through his hair. It sends a tingle down your entire spine, feeling his full head of hair for the first time. “I want you.”

“Just us, alone…” He’s trailing off, voice murmuring beneath the shower’s loud stream. “Pull as many pretty sounds from you as I like.”

Chuckling, you return with, “How are you not exhausted?”

“I’m never too tired for you.” He easily responds, “Cheesy, but it’s true. I want every second I can get with you.”

It’s really strange to you, seeing your relationship now versus the start of it. At the beginning, Simon was cold, completely cut off from any outside communication, and that’s how he liked it. He didn’t have anyone close to him, and so, he didn’t have anyone to lose. A man free of commitment, free of any domestic responsibility; tied to his military base, and nothing more. But then you showed up, and made him feel things he never wanted to experience. It was something he blocked out, but his defenses weren’t strong enough to daunt you. And now, instead of avoiding your affections, he returned them tenfold every time he could.

Another pull in your chest, muscles tightening, stomach fluttering. You want to tell him, be open and honest just as he’s pushed himself to be with you. But you don’t know if this is the right time, you don’t know if there will ever be a ‘right time’ with him.

But before you can fully process that, Simon finishes washing your body and his, wiping away the sweat and grime of the past couple days. He even snakes a hand down between your legs, bringing water to rinse you while pressing his lips to your ear.

“Turn it off.” Gentle breath brushes over your skin, both broad palms on your hips as you bend over to do it. “Stay here.”

There aren’t any towels in the cabin, there isn’t much of anything, really. But he moves out into the living room to grab a random blanket from the couch, returning to wrap you in it.

“All we have.”

“That’s okay.” Your smile is sweet as you stare up at him, now with his mask on again. He’d dried himself briefly before coming back to you, and now, he guides you to the bedroom.

“C’mere,” Turning you around to face him, Simon sighs, lifting his mask. “Give me those lips.”

Easily, he pushes forward, guiding you down to the bed as he distracts you with his mouth. The blanket lays open around you as it happens, revealing your naked body to him once again. And on either side of your head, those strong forearms hold your soldier up, his mouth delicate as he begins to consume you.

One large hand finds its way to your thigh, parting your legs. With gentle eagerness, he settles between them, lowering himself to kiss your neck.

“So beautiful,” He murmurs, eyes closed as he shakes his head. “Even through all this, through the hike and weather.”

“Shut up.” You return, laughing playfully at his words.

“I mean it.” Simon instantly responds, voice gruff as he speaks to you in that lowered tone. “You’re the only woman to ever do this to me.”

Your loving lieutenant speaks with a sense of urgency, voice breathy and raspy and full of the deep accent you adore so completely. Truthfully, it’s the most emotional confession he’s ever given, and it stuns you to your core. In your eyes, he might as well have told you he loves you. It’s likely the closest you’ll ever get to it.

“Simon…” Reaching up, your hands cup his cheeks, wishing now more than ever to see more.

“You mean something to me…” He admits, slowly moving down your body.

As he creeps down your frame, your hands pull away from his face, feeling his own explore you in the most intimate way. Both of them secure to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before his lips find them. He’s soft with it, mouthing at the delicate bends of your body.

“A perfect treat,” Ghost grins, lips curling over your skin. “All for me.”

That devilish smirk only grows wider when you spread your legs for him, watching with bated breath. Simon always made this such an event, laying you out on any surface or bed and making you wait for his every move.

“Just look at that,” Your sharp inhale makes him hum in admiration, using his thickest digit to thumb at your glistening lips. “Those creamy juices just leaking out of your cunt…”

“Simooonnn,” Thrusting your hips up, you huff dramatically, tossing your head back onto the bed. “Please.”

Usually, he’d laugh, but he doesn’t want to drag it out this time. He wants to indulge in you while he can, before anyone else shows up. And so, he fully parts your lips, tongue laying out to swipe through them. His breaths waft heavily across your center, smooth lips engulfing your sex. He sucks on you, already slurping up the combination of your slick and his spit. Steadily, he strokes you with his tongue, digging it deep inside your warmth. But then he’s pulling himself back, using both hands to spread your legs, pulling apart your sticky lips.

“Christ, I love this.” His voice is thick, eyes unwavering from the space between your thighs. Licking through these delicate petals… right down into that hole.”

Lifting himself ever so slightly, he laps at your clit, tongue circling the hood as he toys with it. The way your hips quiver gifts him with encouragement, with confidence. He knows your body, and he’s going to use that knowledge against you.

“Come on, babe. Make those beautiful noises for me.” Reaching forward, he grabs onto the meat of your ass, squeezing it in hand. “There’s no one here to listen but me, just me…”

“Ngh,” Arching your back, you cry out for him, both from the force of his hand and the way his tongue flicks against the peak of your sex. “Fuck.”

“Come on.” His breathy encouragements continue to flow, his lips soft and wet as he licks through you. “Moan for me.”

“B-Baby, yes…”

He’s sucking on you, lips smacking against the wetness of your cunt as he basks in its taste. The more you writhe beneath his face, the firmer his grip on you becomes, until you’re unable to move yourself at all. Your hips still, crushed comfortably beneath his weight as both of those veiny forearms settle overtop them.

“Yes.” Reaching out, you wish so desperately to be met with the wonderful sensation of his golden hair. But alas, it’s that goddamn mask. Fingers curling tightly into the fabric, you cling to him, chest puffing out sultry gasps into the dusty cabin air. “I, I ca…”

“More.”

“Simon,”

While mumbling against your skin, Simon’s deep, dark eyes flutter up to your gorgeous face. His hands dig into your hips, fingers pressing into the muscles that make you so delicious. Every time you’re near, whether it’s sexual or otherwise, he adores the way you say his name. The way you call for him, reaching out for protection, for friendship, for love. You reach out to him for love, he knows it.

Massaging you with his hands, Simon’s grunts vibrate through your legs and hips, his mouth insistent. And when you meet his eyes, meet that possessive, predatory gaze, you’re done for. The entire sensation of it rushes through your body, opening up and completely letting go. Your back arches, jaw dropping as you listen to him mouth at your quivering cunt like it’s a feast. Heavy grunts and humid breaths, the wet sound of your juices mixing with his spit. Your hips shake from it, lungs constricting from the euphoria tightening your veins.

“Si-imon!” Eyes pinching shut, you revel in it, hands pressing to the back of his head as you reach out for more of his touch. But it’s as if you can’t bring him any closer than he already is.

He lets you hold him, lets your body roll through the motions. But it takes everything in him not to immediately crawl over your body and capture your lips. So, he continues to lick you, letting himself get lost in the taste of it, the smell of it. Shoving his tongue inside, he can feel your hole quiver around him, can feel the way his taste buds react to your cum.

“Baby, baby.” Simon’s tongue swirls around your clit, menacing orbs trained directly on you once again. “Baby…”

And all at once, he’s on you again, lifting himself from between your legs and reaching out to wrench your jaw open.

“Give me those fucking lips.”

Crashing his mouth to your own comes alongside his heated moan, the sound of wet gasps and hot breaths instantly filling the air. He’s pressing himself into you, crushing you comfortably beneath his weight. And the hand he has on your cheek only further secures its grip, keeping your mouth open for him.

“You want me?” He always loved to hear you say it.

“Yes, yes baby, please.” When he pulls away enough to speak, your hands shoot up to his cheeks. “Simon, please.” But then you see him pause, the glimmer of a smirk pulling on his lips. Those deep, mocha orbs stare down at you as he waits. He wants to hear you say it, and you know it.

“I want you.”

If it were any other situation, Simon might’ve held back, might’ve made you repeat a few more words just to really get himself going. But he’s already throbbing against your leg, precum leaking onto your skin since the moment he laid you on the bed. The rest of them could be here any moment, likely in the morning but you never know with Price. He has to take advantage of this while he can.

Leaning on that decorated forearm, Simon’s free hand lowers to his shaft, gripping the base. With his eyes dipping down, he takes a beat to lick his lips and catch his breath. He’s hot, swollen, his pleasure pulsing as it slides across your outer lips. And you pull him in while he does it, mouthing at his neck and trying your damnedest to keep his skin free of any visible sin.

“Such a perfect pussy…” He whispers, sliding his entire length in.

It stretches you, prompting your legs to widen as you take him. The sight of this makes the corner of his lips quirk, a devilish glint in his eye twinkling from your submissiveness.

“That’s it,” A rough sigh is punched from his chest when he’s fully seated, when the firm drag of his cock slows to a dull throb between your legs.

Through the carnal desire clawing through his chest, he pauses, heart beating fondly from the way you nuzzle against his skin. It’s intimate, it isn’t just lust. And as soon as he comes down a bit from that blind passion and excitement, his arms encase your head, cradling you in them.

“Sweetheart,” Brushing the tip of his nose across your own, he draws your attention. Your soft breaths make you seem so small, and in contrast, him so large. You put so much trust into his hands.

Dipping down, Simon kisses you, distracting you with the sweet press of his lips while retracting his hips. Driving his pelvis forward again, he listens to your shrill gasp as it escapes your throat, fingernails already digging into his skin. Repeatedly, he seeks your warmth, pleasure flowing through his system as you give him this tempting sin. That’s really what it is to him; love is a sin.

But he takes every bit of it like a man that’s been promised to hell.

Steady and continuous is the pace of his hips, pelvis slapping between your open thighs. Repeatedly, he breaches your entrance with a girth you’ve desperately missed, his entire body pressing into you. And now that he’s inside, that free hand lifts, eyes watching your bouncing chest before grabbing at it. He paws at your seductive curves like it’s the first time he’s ever touched them, mouth finding the slope of your shoulder and neck as he kisses your skin with wet, parted lips.

“This is just what I need,” Simon groans, growls. “You’re just what I want. You know that, don’t you?”

The moans you once kept silent now burst from your lips, grinding your hips up in time with his thrusts as best you can. Grasping for his shoulders, you feel yourself go weak, the fat head of his cock hitting you deep.

“You know that, right?” He repeats, fondling your chest with firm grabs. But when you still don’t answer, he grunts out his disapproval, head lifting to dig his covered nose into your cheek. And you know better than to not answer him.

“Yes, Simon…” It comes out as a sigh, eyes fluttering open to see those deep, endlessly brown eyes.

And it makes him grin, chuckling breathily. You’re drunk on him.

“Good.” He mumbles against your lips, the hand on your chest now sliding down your side. It follows the dip of your waist and hips, smoothing over the side of your ass until he reaches your thigh. And then he’s grabbing you, hauling your leg further up on his waist, and in turn giving him access for a harsh smack.

“Pretty girl… you’re mine.”

“Simon.”

“Look at me.” Grabbing your jaw, he turns your head in his direction. And the force of it snaps your eyes open, staring up at your enormous soldier. “Look at me when you say my name.”

“Simon…”

Emotion swirls inside your chest until you feel like it’s about to burst, dire need and complete infatuation taking over your body. He’s all consuming, something you can't and wouldn’t ever want to run away from. It’s clawing at you from the inside out, your care for him, your genuine adoration. And you don’t want to say it because you’re sure he won’t react too nicely, he won’t accept it, but you can’t help it. You really can’t, and all at once, you’re saying it.

“Simon, Si, I love,”

Briefly, he stutters, both his hips and lungs. But he keeps going, he’s sure that’s not what you’re saying. It’s not what you should be saying.

“I love you, Si.”

The embrace you hold with him couldn’t be more intense, your chests pressed together as your arms loop tightly around his neck. Something inside him feels like it’s breaking, cold heart cracking with something akin to warmth. If he had the chance, he would’ve begged you not to say it. You don’t need to fall for him like that, not in this way, not in this lifetime. It hasn’t been kind to him, and he, in turn, hasn’t been a kind man. Any semblance of good intention left in his body has been given to you and… he figures that’s it, isn’t it? Is that what love is? Giving someone everything you have? Every piece of good you’ve been made with?

“Bones,” Simon eventually returns, hips slowing until he stills. Resting in this lull with you, he can practically feel your anxiety, your vulnerability. You’ve given him everything you have, too. “I… do.”

“You don’t have to say it.” Comes your instant, tiny squeak.

Out of either vulnerability or insecurity, his head finds your neck, stuffing its way into concealment. “I do.” He says again, squeezing you with his entire body. “I do.”

With a firm sigh, he decides to give this to you; you deserve this - he’s going to give this to you.

“I love you… too.”

“Baby, you really don’t have to say it.” You can practically feel the uncertainty seeping through his skin as he clings to you, seeking security. Stroking the back of his head, you hold him, wrapping your legs around his waist, too.

“I do.” He continues to repeat, now nodding. “I love you.”

“Are you joking me?” Soap practically scoffs, a look of disgust crawling across his face.

“Sorry?” Ghost returns, generally unphased as he inhales another drag of his cig.

“Could you be more obvious?”

At this, Simon’s face turns stern, snuffing out the joint on the couch’s arm before dropping his hand to your leg. A simple gesture of yes, yes I can.

You’d woken up in Simon’s arms, limbs tangled together beneath a worn and tattered scrap of fabric one might call a blanket. Counting yourselves lucky, you opened your eyes to an empty cabin once again. The team hadn’t arrived just yet.

It took some convincing, but you finally got Simon out of bed and dressed. You didn’t want to draw any suspicion should they walk in on you like this. And so, you settled together on the couch. While you laid down, snuggling your feet onto his lap, Simon pulled out another cigarette. It was relaxing, not only being alone but sharing this habit.

The morning was cold but comfortable enough for you to fall back asleep, body resting easily on his sturdy lap. It humored him, seeing just how tired this mission has made you; and you’re only halfway through. But while you were fine spending your time getting some shut eye, Simon was having difficulty fighting his natural instincts. Now that you’ve said it, admitted it, he’s worried. The place you’re in is dangerous and admitting something so precious makes the situation that much more stressful. It also makes him that much more protective.

And so, while you laid resting against him, Simon pulled out his pistol, resting it against his knee with the barrel pointed towards the front door. If anyone were to come in here, they’d have to go through him first.

Lucky for him, though, it turned out to be the boys.

“Lieutenant.” Price nodded, watching Ghost return the gesture.

Lowering the gun, Simon watched as Price and Gaz made their way into the bedroom to set their things down, leaving Soap with the two of you. And that’s when he voiced his concerns, that deep Scottish scoff making itself known.

“Real discrete.” He comments before hearing the captain shout from the room.

“Bit messy in here.” Price remarks, “Messier than I’d last left it. You two do some good sleeping in here?”

“Nah,” Ghost returns with a grin only Johnny can see. “Slept out here, Cap.”

When you hear Simon’s booming voice, you finally wake again, meeting the azure eyes of your friendly sergeant. “Hey, Soap.”

And he can’t bring himself to be any bit annoyed with you. “Hey, gorgeous.”

It’s meant as a friendly compliment, of course, but Ghost squeezes your calf, nonetheless.

“Alright,” Price booms, stomping into the room. “Let’s circle up. We’ve got plans to discuss.”

Already, he hates this. The entire atmosphere has shifted from light and lazy to dark and perilous. Simon can feel his heart rate increasing, his breaths deep and dragging. The mere thought of you in the field makes him want to jump up and wrap you in his arms, drag you away and hide you somewhere safe. What he hates even more than the possibility of that happening is the fact that he allowed it, he’s allowed this to happen. It wasn’t exactly his call to make, but he would’ve made it, and he didn't.

He’s made his bed, and this time, he’s got to lay in it.

So, without much choice, he watches his men regroup in front of him, with his partner sitting up to join in. Price tosses out the maps, Gaz whips out the compass, and Johnny’s already pulling out snacks. Pulling down his mask, Simon releases a harsh sigh, nothing that really draws anyone’s attention, though. He’s pretty much always cranky, and with you here, that trait has grown tenfold.

When Simon reaches for your hand on the couch, your eyes widen. What the hell is he doing? But before you can react, and before anyone else has a chance to see, Johnny tosses a protein bar at the lieutenant.

“Johnny, what the fuck?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Johnny scolds outwardly, scowling at his closest friend.

Price can feel something lingering in the air, an awkward silence, a secret. But he pushes it away. Glancing between his teammates, he clasps his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then.”

Here we go.

#oooohhhh baby #I love you #I do #Simon Riley #Simon Ghost Riley #Ghost cod #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Riley x female reader #Simon Riley smut #Simon Riley fluff #cod fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty #cod mw2

503 notes · View notes