Keep Talking // Simon Ghost Riley X Reader

Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist

Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst

—

Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.

You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.

Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.

“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“

“New dress, love?”

His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.

“Hm?”

Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.

“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”

You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“

You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.

“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.

“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.

“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.

“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“

Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”

“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“

“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.

“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.

“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”

“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“

Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”

Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.

___

I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me

part 4 of regency era!ghost x f!reader

the castle’s frivolous chatter sometimes bores you. other times, it keeps you entertained when you need a distraction. and other days, you’re hardly surprised by the whispers that flitter like butterflies just barely out of your peripheral.

“she’s been seen at promenade.” you barely caught Flora’s hushed murmur. “please tell me the queen hasn’t heard yet.”

oh, you’ve heard. Lady Price spared you the headache as was quick to inform you with her letter before sunrise. you knew of her arrival long before the whole castle woke.

“i hear that Lady Price was seen atop her husband’s shoulder the other day.”

well, that part was left out of the letter you received. “oh?”

“poor thing was screeching her lungs out as he dragged her back to their estate.”

your shocked expression does nothing to restrain Ann from giggling to herself. it’s hard to find the matter amusing. such a scandalous thing to happen, surely her lord husband won’t be best pleased about the scene she caused. and who knows how he might have reacted to it.

“is she alright?” you ask.

“from what i heard, yes.” Ann replied easily, pouring a cup of tea for you and herself. “quite a spirited young woman, that one. she keeps the lord on his toes every day.”

there’s not a hint of worry in her tone. she’s not as concerned about the news as you are. perhaps not near as she should be. or perhaps you’re overreacting. Lord Price is not a man to be trifled with but he is not known to be cruel to those who don’t deserve it.

you hum more to yourself, your hands rubbing together. “perhaps i should invite her for tea and she can tell me all about it.”

it hasn’t been long since you saw your friend. you’d welcome her with open arms any time of the day if she came for a visit. it’ll distract you from the new developments in your life–

the door shoots open, drawing yours and Ann’s attention. you put the teacup back on its saucer and hold it at your lap just as Flora quickly walks in, breathing heavily. her nervous expression fills you with dread. “what’s wrong, Flora?”

“y–your majesty.” she bows, wringing a white cloth in her hands. “uh, Sir Keller is here.”

“whatever for?” you ask.

“he brings a message from the king.” she blurts out, glancing between you and Ann. “and… a–and a gift.”

ah. now you understood her terror.

you truly didn’t think the situation between you and the king would get worse. you made yourself as clear as you could and as politely as you could the other day, surely he would take the message and leave you be until your cycle forces you back to his chambers.

this?

“a… gift?” eyebrows raised, a heavy sigh leaves you when you attempt to comprehend whatever is going on. so much for having a peaceful morning.

you and Ann glance at each other, slightly fearful of whatever is to come of the day. both of them look to you, expectant. what could you do? besides face whatever the king throws at you head on, of course.

you nod. “send him in.”

for those few precious moments, you brace yourself. this gift makes you want to retreat back into a pile of linens and stay there until when you’re sure no one will come looking for you anymore.

“what do you think it is?” Ann quietly asks, popping a biscuit in her mouth.

“a giant spider, i reckon.” she stops chewing. you smirk, raising the teacup to your lips. “might jump out of the box once it’s open.”

her face pales and you nearly have to choke back a smile just as a tall knight walks into the room. he’s tall with golden strands of hair and kind blue eyes. he’s one of the few guards your husband trusts to be around him.

you wonder what this truly about. it is doubtful that the king is sending a gift and a message, there has to be something else besides that. a string attached. perhaps he requires something of you. though you wonder why he does not just come to you and say it.

either way, you steel yourself for the outcome.

“Sir Alex Keller.” you greet him, keeping your tone light but detached.

you note the box he holds under his arm, his tense posture. the expression on his face is friendly, yet you sense a touch of unease. you wonder if he’s prepared for a battle to ensue. for you to shoot the messenger and demand his head to be put on a platter.

“apologies for intruding on your day, your majesty.” he gives a courtesy bow and a tight smile.

“it’s quite alright.” you say, attempting to ease his nerves. you made a point to try not to blame him or anyone who gets caught in the crosshairs of your tumultuous marriage.

“the king sends his regards.” Alex reaches for the box and holds it out to you. “and this.”

you nod to Ann, who raises and takes the box. she brings it to you, placing it on your lap. its contents were… definitely not what you’d expected. not in this lifetime, at least.

the necklace stares back at you. delicate thing, small, the golden metal tying together lovely gemstones and pearls that gleamed under the morning light with pearl earrings to match. it’s regal. beautiful.

now what’s the string attached to it?

you kept your expression neutral. not wanting to give away your thoughts, you fear Sir Keller might say something to your husband that he might not want to hear. showing joy is not an option either. you don’t know what message that could send.

Ann clears her throat, glancing to you. reminding you to say something. she adds, “a stunning set, my queen.”

that, you cannot deny. however, that isn’t the problem.

is this the king’s way of buying your good graces? and he could not be bothered to give it to your himself, he had to send his guard as if he was thanking a guest. like he was too tied up with work to properly acknowledge you (as usual), a far cry from how strange he’s been acting the past few days.

but then…

your gaze drifts to Flora.

promenade. then the pieces fell in place.

the king’s most likely too occupied with entertaining his mistress. this… gift is just something to distract you.

you look at the note that came with the box.

For my queen. –Simon

restraining a scoff is difficult, but you manage it. men and their deluded ways of trying to hide things. did the king truly think you would believe these lies? his odd behaviour is not nearly credible to make you think he even means it, why on earth would he think gifts and notes would erase nearly four years of a dead marriage?

“is it…” Sir Keller began slowly, unsure. “to your liking, your majesty?”

there it is. there’s the string attached.

he wants to know if you’ve bought the lie.

you close the box and plaster a smile. if your husband wants to fool around with his mistress, by all means. you’ve never stopped him, nor do you even have the power to. all of this was just time consuming and unnecessary because the king could have just gone to see her without ever needing to involve you in any way like always.

“indeed.” you say with a practised tone. “do thank the king for me.”

the box is handed back to Ann, who then gives it to Flora. she stays where she is, holding it. you’re tempted to tell her to throw it out the window, but you feel that you have to wait until the only man in the room leaves.

your hands fold on your lap, gaze fixing on the guard standing from across the table. he watches you, almost as if he’s expecting something. your eyebrow raises. “is that all, Sir Keller?”

his eyes drop to his feet. you don’t know what that means and you try not to care for what might imply.

“yes, your majesty.” he says, taking one last bow. “pardon me.”

when he leaves, the silence that remained in the room was deafening. not one person knew what to say. you reach for your tea and take a sip of it while Flora puts the open box next to you.

“well, that was odd.” chimed Ann. you hummed in agreement, eyes straying to the necklace once more.

it is the first gift your husband ever gave you. and it’s not even a gift. not truly anyway. gifts aren’t meant to be used to distract wives from finding out about infidelities or trying to soften the blow of the discovery.

worse things have broken your heart a thousand times over. but this does dampen your spirits for the day.

“well, it’s definitely not a spider, thank god.” Ann continued. you can feel her watching your expression while you read the morning paper. “your favourite colour, if i’m not mistaken. and i do remember you mentioning your fondness for pearls once.”

“pity i have an abundance of jewellery. much more than i know what to do with.” there’s an uncomfortable quiet that trails your reply.

Flora asks, “what will you do it with?”

you quietly shrug, sipping your tea. “gift it to someone else, perhaps. i wish not to be reminded of the king in my own chambers.”

it doesn’t do you any good to have him tainting your only sanctuary. it is why you’re extremely thankful that he never bothered to venture into your room for any reason. the closest he’s ever come to that was when he was at your doorstep the other day.

“the invite to Lady Price.” you remind Ann, glancing to the side.

“yes. right away, your majesty.” Ann stands to make the arrangements.

the king’s presence or whatever trinkets he brings will not going to taint a perfectly good day. he can brazenly show off his mistress for all you care and whether he thinks one necklace with distract you from the fact that he’s a terrible husband is entirely his delusion.

one which you’re happy to feed into if that is what he wants if it means he'll leave you be. you don’t particularly care either way.

“tha’s it? tha’s all she said?” Soap asks, staring at Alex incredulously.

“that’s all she said.” Alex nods, downing the last of his alcohol.

the sun hasn’t reached its peak and Alex is already on his second glass. whatever happened in his chambers shot his nerves. according to him, you didn’t seem sad or angry. which would be good, but Simon has spent enough time around you to know when you’re trying to be diplomatic instead of being honest.

you aren’t happy with the gift.

the simple fact sits heavily in Simon’s gut. you might have smiled and gave the perfect answer, but you aren’t pleased. at all.

of course Simon expected this. he discreetly asked Gaz to ask around the castle for anything you liked and still expected you to throw the necklace back in his face. but this was... a passive smile, acceptance.

fuck, it’s worse than he thought.

Simon looks out the window, slowly tapping his finger against the glass. “where is she?”

“the tulips will work better with the theme.” one of your maids said.

Simon sees four women taking a stroll through the garden. one of them holds a parasol above your head, shielding you from the afternoon sun. you’re a stunning sight. you’re dressed in a cool blue dress, holding two sheets of paper. your brows furrowed in concentration as you study each of them.

“i agree.” you hummed, glancing at your handmaiden. “any word from Lady Price?”

“she’ll be visiting tomorrow morning.” she says, smiling.

Simon already wants to turn back and lock himself in his chambers but he keeps walking around a pink flower bush, revealing himself to all four women. all halt in their tracks upon seeing him.

“oh!” Ann was the most startled. she was the first to curtsey. “your majesty.”

the rest followed. Simon tenses when you stepped forward. “you majesty.”

his palms are sweaty. he can’t think of a single thing to say when he looks at you. the words escape his grasp as much as his dignity. the fabric of his mask suddenly feels too itchy and he wants to rip it off.

“were we supposed to meet today?” you asked, handing the papers to Aimee. “forgive me, i was under the impression that you were otherwise preoccupied for the day.”

he pauses for a moment, trying to remember if he has things to do as far as Simon is aware, he’s free from any obligations for the entire day. all so he could spend the day with you. or rather, near you… as much as you’d allow it.

“apologies, my queen.” he dipped his head. “i was just passing through.”

“right. of course.” all the women bowed once more before the queen began to walk whilst the rest trailed after. you lift your dress an inch up to allow your legs to move with haste.

you only halt in your tracks when he inquires, “did you get my gift?”

it is very unlikely that you’ve even kept it. but a man dares to hold a sliver of hope. that you had kept something that he had given to you. that you’re not spiteful enough to cast it aside as he did with your precious gifts.

he waits, with baited breath, as you turn around. a measured expression painted across your beautiful face. you’re careful to choose your words.

“yes.” you declared cautiously, narrowing your eyes. “it was lovely. thank you, your majesty.”

you made your way back inside the castle without so much as giving him a chance to say more. although he aches to follow, Simon feels strangely satisfied when you march forward, your annoyance radiating through the very leaves of each branch in the entire garden.

Johnny, who’d been hiding behind a tree, steps out from behind it with a half eaten apple. he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and hums, brows furrowed as he watches you leave. “preoccupied?”

yes, Simon wonders about that bit too. “thought i cleared all meetings for the day.”

“aye, ye did.” Johnny agrees. “because ye wanted tae gawk at yer wife.”

little shit. Johnny’s hypocrisy is somewhat amusing. “as if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“oh, quite the contrary. if my wife looked as pretty as that–” Simon gives him a scathing glare. Johnny’s mouth snapped shut. “just sayin’.”

the king rolls his eyes and strides away before he can hear any more nonsense from his dear friend.

preoccupied, the word seemed… odd. you know his schedule, more so to work around it and do everything in your power to avoid him.

no matter. it’s probably just a misunderstanding on your part.

[Part 5] banners by @saradika and @vase-of-lilies

offer a coin to the picklejar

No Taglist.

do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked. [Main Masterlist]

the anniversary.

Summary:  he forgot about a very important date for you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do that), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, breeding kink or just talking about kids

 A/N:  somehow it came out the same way. I hope you like it. Thank you for every feedback, it means a lot to me.

The car quietly pulled into the driveway and after a moment the engine and the lights were turned off. He didn't get out right away, he just reached for the phone lying on the passenger seat and glanced at the last message Tommy had sent him.

He cursed quietly under his breath. This renovation had been causing them problems from the start and they wanted to finish it as soon as possible, but Joel's blood pressure rose every time he saw or heard that something would extend their work again. This time it was the same.

"Fuck." he hissed under his breath, resigned.

His gaze rolled over the quiet area immersed in sleep. It was already around midnight. Once again he had spent way too much time at work.

The car door slammed shut and his steps headed towards the door. The lights inside were dimmed, you had left them on just enough so he could safely move around the interior.

His gaze wandered to the couch in the living room, he was probably secretly hoping to see you there, but it was so late that he knew it was a foolish hope. You worked too, and you looked after the house and were there for Sarah while he was at work, which was... for too long lately.

His legs took him to the kitchen and the fridge, but when he opened the door he froze for a moment. There were several containers full of food on the shelves, and he definitely hadn't seen them there this morning. The cardboard box from your favourite cake shop looked completely untouched. And that bottle of champagne.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Joel swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten and a heavy stone sinking into his stomach.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

More pieces of the puzzle started fitting together in his head. Fresh flowers in the living room, candles standing on the kitchen counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

When his eyes stopped at the calendar hanging on the wall he knew he had fucked everything up.

His hand went to his hair and he ruffled it wondering how angry you could be at him. Joel would probably rather you were angry because the disappointment in your eyes would kill him.

He couldn't hide in the kitchen forever though so he headed upstairs. He glanced through the ajar door to Sarah's room. Her bed was empty. That's right, for a few days you both told him that she would be staying at a friend's.

Another stone fell into his stomach.

The bedroom you shared was dark, but a small lamp was on by the bed, your silhouette was outlined under the sheets. This view was one of his favorites. You were sleeping quietly breathing.

Joel took off his shoes and shirt, throwing it towards the laundry basket. He climbed onto the bed and gently kissed your shoulder, then once again until you purred quietly.

"J-Joel?" your voice was quiet and sleepy "Is something wrong? What time is it?"

"Late. Midnight or something." he replied, resting his arms on either side of you "Baby, I'm so fucking sorry..."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn't see your embarrassment. You hoped that this conversation wouldn't happen, that you'd forget and go back to normal. But Joel didn't like unfinished business.

"I felt really stupid." you finally spoke up "For a moment I even wondered if I hadn't mixed up the dates. So I found the marriage certificate…"

"I messed everything up. I remembered that, at least at the beginning of the week."

"Yeah, I know. You worked a lot." your hand stroked his scratchy cheek "At least we have so much food that we don't have to cook tomorrow. And Sarah will be really happy about the cake I bought."

"That's not fair. You worked too, and then you came home, did all these things, and remembered our anniversary."

"Multitasking."

"I told you, you're better than Wonder Woman." you giggled, and that brought him relief "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am. I fucked it all up."

"You fucked up." You nodded, but your smile softened it "But we can still do something about it."

"Yeah?"

A sly smile appeared on his lips as your body settled beneath him. Your hands slid gently over his chest to his soft belly where your nails scratched it pleasantly.

He leaned down and his lips brushed yours, nibbling gently before his warm tongue slipped inside, caressing you pleasantly. A quiet groan escaped your throat.

You couldn't remember the last time Joel kissed you like that. The last few weeks had been quite hard, his late homecomings didn't make anything easier. In the evenings, you both fell into bed and before anything could happen, you fell asleep deeply.

Now, you had time and the house just for yourselves.

"Joel?" you murmured quietly as his lips moved to your neck. "Maybe you're tired, huh? I don't want you to be unconscious at work tomorrow."

A single movement of his hips and the large bulge hidden in his jeans rubbing against your thigh was a clear answer. He kissed your lips again and then sat up, removing the sheets from you.

"Oh, baby..." he sighed seeing that you were only wearing his shirt and panties "Even if I was on my deathbed I would ask for the opportunity to eat you out."

"God! Miller!" you laughed "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't understand." his large hands slid down your thighs squeezing them lightly "It's such a man thing."

His fingers reached for the hem of your panties and he slid them down without much trouble. He spread your thighs apart and you felt the heat flooding your neck. You were totally exposed to him, but Joel always made you feel totally sexy and desired even in a situation like this.

He settled himself between your thighs giving them a few kisses and squeezes. It was like a final countdown to what was about to happen. One, slow lick and the air left your lungs.

"So pretty." Joel mumbled and you bit your lip "I'm a lucky bastard."

You didn't have a chance to respond as his mouth closed over your heat. His tongue teased your button.

"Jesus!"

That was all that could escape your lips as you tried to catch your breath and control your body. Joel made sounds like he planned to eat you out completely and leave you barely alive. Unconsciously, your hips jerked trying to break free from the pleasure his mouth was giving you, but his hands held you tighter to the mattress.

"Stay." he mumbled "You're not going anywhere."

One of your hands tightened on the headboard of the bed and the other tangled in Joel's hair. You felt him slide his tongue into your heated pussy, in and out, his thumb making small circles on your clit. You felt his scratchy stubble on your thighs, his hands pressing you down to the mattress.

"I'm so close...so close..."

"I can feel it, baby. C'mon, let go."

His two thick fingers slid into you without a problem, finding the right spot. You clenched your thighs tighter, but that didn't stop him, his fingers moved faster and faster and after a moment, indescribable pleasure spread through your body.

"Oh my God!" you moaned "Fuck!"

Joel didn’t wait, freed himself from between your legs and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock. He gave it a few pumps, his hands were slick with your juices. But it was his eyes that were the most hypnotizing. Those beautiful, brown eyes turned almost black. You knew he wanted you so much.

Not a word was said. His cock touched your pussy and after a moment he easily slid into you, stretching your walls pleasantly. Joel lay on you, pinning you harder to the mattress with the weight of his body. His fingers slid into your hair and his lips crushed yours. You only had time to wrap your legs around his waist before he thrust in for the first time.

His cock pushed in harder and deeper. You wanted to catch your breath, but Joel's mouth was swallowing you and it wasn't until he buried his face in your hair, moaning loudly, that you managed to do it.

You loved it when he made such dirty sounds, but living with a teenager, he had to hold back. Now Joel gave you a real concert.

"You're so tight, baby. So fucking good for me." he moaned in your ear. "I missed that pussy so much. I want to fuck you all night long."

You couldn't answer. No grammatically correct sentence was able to form in your brain. Your pussy took over and the only thing that slipped out from between your lips was:

"Harder, Joel… Fuck me harder."

Joel got up and knelt on the mattress. He threw your legs over his shoulders and held them tight, then began to pound into you harder and harder. Every movement was precise and hit exactly where you needed him. His cock moved hard inside you and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge really fast.

"I'm close, baby!" he panted "Cum for me, I want to feel you."

"Joel..."

"C'mon, baby." His thumb found your clit again and rubbed it hard "Fuck, c'mon!"

Your body arched. You could feel your walls squeeze his cock, the muscles in your legs quivering, but Joel didn't slow down. A few more hard thrusts and he filled you to the brim, a groan of pleasure escaping his throat as he tilted his head back.

"Sweet Jesus..." he mumbled, lowering his arms and letting your legs fall onto the bed, "Fuck, I've missed this so much..."

His cock slid out of you, and some of his seed flowed out of you after it. He watched it for a moment, then his fingers lazily pushed it back in.

"You know..." he began as his eyes moved to your face, "We should start talking about this eventually."

"About what?" you asked.

Joel laid down next to you, sliding down his jeans and laying completely naked, still breathing deeply.

"About kids." he replied calmly, turning his head to face you, "I'm not getting any younger, and I'd really like to have a kid or two with you."

"A kid or two?" you laughed.

"Yeah, why not?" his eyes shone so beautifully when he spoke about it "I would like to see your belly grow full of our baby. You will be even more beautiful. Besides, you are a wonderful mother to Sarah, she adores you. Would you like that? Because if you are not ready, baby, we can wait with it. We still have time."

You stroked his cheek, smiling fondly at him.

"I think I am ready, sweetie. It would be a wonderful journey together, don't you think?"

"Definitely."

You moved closer to him and snuggled into his arms. You were happy and you didn’t want to give up this moment for anything in the world.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

one of @peachesofteal ‘s most recent imagines got me thinking of something…

SECRET

Simon Riley x wife!nurse!fem!reader

Alright so Simon Riley who has a secret wife who is actually not a secret.

To be more specific, Simon Riley who is married to the love of his life who just so happens to be a nurse in the infirmary on base.

He doesn’t tell anyone, no, Simon’s doesn’t do small talk with his squad, telling them all about his personal life. He leaves that to Price.

But Simon doesn’t keep you a secret. You’re way too beautiful to be kept as anyone’s secret, Si has just never gotten around to bringing you up in conversation. That’s all.

Imagine the squads surprise when Gaz walks into the debrief room nursing a cup of coffee, calmly gaining everyone in the room’s attention as he explains that he just saw Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley with his mask over his nose, tongue stuck down some nurse’s throat in a a dark hallway.

Because of course, Simon Riley wasn’t into the whole PDA thing.

Gaz explains that he obviously had time to stop at the filing room, learning information from Simon Riley’s personal files about the pretty little nurse who wears his ring.

Not too much later the man himself enters the debrief room, adjusting the cut off of his skull mask adorn his neck. “Wha’?” His dark demanding voice called upon the group of men just staring at him.

John makes some lame joke about keeping a pretty little thing like you a secret and Simon furrows his brows in utter confusion. Didn’t he know? Didn’t they all know?

Like he keeps telling them, it was never a secret. Simon will ask them was they thought he was doing all the times he told them he was going to head down to the infirmary for a minute to say hi?

Did they think he was joking about all the time he got hurt on mission that he was basically on first name basis with the med staff? Nope, that was only because his adorable wife introduce the entirety of her coworkers to him.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy it, him standing behind her like a dangerous shadow willing to split them open if they dared to say anything regarding himself or his sweetheart. And of course his beloved stood there with the proudest smile on your face emanating nothing but gentleness and love.

How could they possible think he’d keep a woman like you a secret from the world? You were his sunshine. In no universe would Simon Riley want to keep you a secret.

(Not edited)

Pedro and Dakota at a concert in London

the arrangement.

Summary: you have to ask General Acacius for help and you know that only one thing can convince him

Warnings: anger, mention of attempted rape, Acacius is violent, breeding kink, mention of slavery, meantion of death

A/N: I had a few sentences in my head, I saw a few scenes, and I wrote the rest of the story. scribbles.

The dark sky was covered with shining stars, and the area was silent when you appeared in front of General Acacius' house. The tall and vast building, just like its owner, made its visitors feel respect and a hint of fear. But you didn't have time for that.

You almost ran up the short stairs and banged on the door. The doorman was surprised by your late visit, but he took you deeper into the house without any questions. You both walked along the corridor lit by burning torches until you stood in front of the open door to the main room where, despite the late hour, its owner was supposed to be there.

"General." the servant walked in, bowing, “Lady Y/N has come to visit.”

""Bring her in," a deep and soft voice replied, but you didn't wait a second longer.

"General Acacius, please forgive me." you said, entering the room and nodding quickly. "I shouldn't have visited you this late, but I couldn't wait. This matter couldn't wait."

The room was illuminated by soft light, and the cool evening air flowed in from the open window. The general was sitting behind an ornately carved desk, looking through some papers, but he perked up visibly when he saw you.

The white robes he wore highlighted his sun-kissed skin, and you were surprised at how noble he looked even when he wasn't wearing his armor.

“Y/N, you know very well that you are always welcome in my home.” he replied, standing up and walking over to you, "What did I do to deserve your lovely company on this pleasant evening?"

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it.

"I'm afraid that the matter I came for will destroy your peace, General." you replied, "But I don't know anyone else I could turn to. Only you can help me."

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you carefully. His brown eyes bored into you so much that you could almost feel him beneath your skin. He always had this effect on you, from the moment you met him you knew you would never find peace again.

"I think you overestimate my abilities." he muttered, smiling lazily, "I'm just an ordinary soldier."

"I don't think so."

"I'm listening."

"General..." you started, but he immediately interrupted you.

"Marcus. Let's drop the titles if we're talking in private."

You nodded.

"Marcus." you started and he tilted his head to the side slightly, listening to your voice. "I'm sure you know my situation and what happened a few days ago. My maid, Margo, has been arrested."

"I heard about it."

"Then you know how unfair it is to her. Meanwhile, as I have been informed, she will be sentenced. During the next gladiator fights. Along with common criminals and scum. It shouldn't..."

"That's the law." Marcus interrupted you, "Your slave broke it by attacking one of the senators. She injured him."

"She was defending herself!" you raised your voice in anger "What was she supposed to do when that bag of dung tried to rape her!"

“Hold your words, Y/N.” he raised his hand "I don't know if you've forgotten, but she's still a slave."

"She's a woman. And my friend."

"It doesn't change the fact that she attacked a free man in a high position."

"Did you explain in the same way what you did to me at one of the last receptions in the Emperor's palace?"

The words fell out of you like arrows that instantly hit Marcus. His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, and his eyes darkened.

The memories of that evening still loomed between the two of you. That was a hard and long evening. Too much wine, music, suffocating aromas from incense. 

Marcus felt intoxicated not so much by the wine he drank but by your presence. You were his unattainable goddess. His fame and heroism meant nothing when he stood before you, and he couldn't even be sure that looking at you wouldn’t bring down the wrath of the Gods upon him.

And then it happened. Marcus found you alone on one of the balconies and his lust finally got the better of him. His lips crashed against yours brutally, strong arms pulled you against his body so tightly that for a moment you felt paralyzed. Even though he felt your resistance and struggle, he thought for a moment that he could take you by force. Here and now.

And then you took advantage of his moment of weakness, freed yourself from his arms and slapped him, hissing that even if he drowned the whole world in blood and threw all the treasures at your feet, you would never be his.

The brutality he was capable of terrified you. And even though you pretended that nothing had happened between you, and Marcus apologized to you for his intrusive behavior, that crack was still there between you.

And now you were standing in front of him, asking for help despite all the resentment you might have felt towards him. Because wasn't Marcus watching your every move? Wasn't he the one who took every possible opportunity to be close? So why were you so afraid of him? He wanted to adore you, honor you on an equal footing with the Gods. He would give you the whole world because he already gave you his heart a long time ago.

“Marcus…” your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Please.. No, I'm begging you.”

Your knees went weak under you as you knelt before him in supplication.

"I'm begging you, do something. I don't know anyone else who could stand up for me..."

“Please get up, love…” he muttered, confused by your behavior.

"Marcus..."

"Get up, for God's sake!" he roared and you quickly got up from the cold floor.

You saw the wildness swirling behind his eyes. He clenched his jaw and thrashed around like an animal in a cage. After a while, however, he sat down in the chair, clasping his hands and looking at you carefully.

"Why this one slave girl?" he hissed, "You can have a new one. I can give you a dozen new ones!"

"I could ask you the same thing." you replied quietly.

Madness.

His blood boiled at the thought of comparing you to this woman. You were more than anything else. Yes, he knew perfectly well that at his beck and call, a dozen other women, hundreds of other women, would take your place. But you were engraved in his heart like words in marble, you became his treasure and blessing in one person.

You walked over to him slowly and crouched down by his lap. Your eyes were shining and your chest was heaving with nervous breathing.

"Marcus..." his name sounded like a prayer on your lips, "I'll do anything... I'll give you anything you want, but try to help me. I'm not asking for more. I don't want you to incur the Emperor's wrath, but you're the only one who can speak to him..."

"You're asking for so much..." he replied calmly, and his hand tentatively moved to touch your smooth cheek, to caress it for just a moment, "What can you give me, Y/N? You know that I would do anything for you, just for your one tender look..."

Your fingers found his hand and you kissed his knuckles.

"I will give myself to you." you whispered, "I'll give myself completely to you..."

His eyes widened in surprise for a second, but then his eyebrows knitted together as if he was trying to understand what you meant.

“Y/N…”

"I will be yours." you continued, staring into his dark eyes, completely determined, "I will be your wife. I will be loyal, devoted, and humble."

"Do not say that." Marcus interrupted you.

"I will give you what you want, General Acacius." your fingers gripped his hand tighter. "I will give you an offspring. Many healthy and strong sons. And as many beautiful and wise daughters. They will be the pride of your house. That's what a man as powerful and wise as you wants, isn't it?"

You knew your words resonated with him. They definitely hit his loins, because his body tensed and his breathing quickened. The general had a soft spot for you, you knew it perfectly well. You were flattered by his attention, but you were afraid of his power and the violence that hid within him. He wasn't like any other man you knew. Maybe if you had met in another time and place…

But the image of you swollen and full of his baby was so tempting for him.

“Y/N, is this what you want?” he asked "Will you put your life on the line for hers?"

You nodded, and Marcus knew he would do the same for you.

"Do you think... Do you think you could ever love me? That you would learn to love me? I don't want you to look at me with disgust and fear..."

Your warm hands cupped his face tenderly. A soft beard laced with gray hair tickled your skin pleasantly. You looked into the eyes of the man who had brought glory to the Empire, and now he sat before you, uncovered and uncertain. All desires were stirring within him and only you could give it purpose.

"I'm sure it will happen, Marcus." you replied "I never thought you were a bad person. Maybe if we had new chances..."

"I will never hurt you, love. I won't let anyone hurt you. I will make you the happiest woman in the world..."

"I know that." you smiled softly.

He leaned carefully towards you. His warm breath touched your lips, and after a moment you tasted them again.

Marcus kissed you tenderly and gently, as if he was afraid that he would lose you again in a moment. But when you kissed him back and your lips parted slightly, he didn't need any more. He immersed himself in you, kissing you passionately, stealing your every breath and almost leaving you breathless.

You were like an antidote to all his pain and fear. The promise of a better tomorrow.

He rested his forehead against yours, sighing softly.

"You make me your servant, and I humbly accept it." he said.

You tangled your fingers in his soft hair and Marcus purred softly.

"I'll talk to the Emperor tomorrow. I can't promise you anything, love."

"That's enough for me. I want to know that I did everything I could for her. I'm leaving our life in your hands, Marcus."

"Don't talk to anyone else about this. Go home." he gave further instructions, looking at you with tenderness. "You must show up at the next gladiatorial games."

"Will you be there too?"

"Yes, I will find you. But listen, you have to be careful now. One wrong move and the Emperor could change his mind. If I can convince him..."

"Thank you for at least trying..."

Marcus stroked your face tenderly.

"If you knew how much I could do for you... Go home. I'll see you soon."

You kissed him one last time and after a while you were escorted to the door by his servant.

The promise to try to save Margo gave you a little hope. You knew you would do anything for her and General Acacius was the only person who could change the Emperor's decision at that moment. Did you also seal your fate? Maybe...

But we will all do anything for the people we love…

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.