When I Get My Hands On You. (Soldier Boy Fic).

When I Get My Hands On You. (Soldier Boy Fic).

Soldier Boy/Ben x F!Reader 18+

Summary: Slight AU + 'Still Awake'. After everything, Vault decides it's better to keep Soldier Boy out of the way instead of putting him back under. Out of the way is a McMansion out of the city, a plot of land, a mountain and all the time in the world. He's got everything he needs, and yet there's still something missing. He figures out what it is very quickly when you show up. What a lucky man he is.

Song This Fic is Based On: Superbad Mantra - JAWNY, Christian Blue.

A/n: I'm so excited to post this fic, it was so much fun to write, and my first time writing for SB. I wrote, and rewrote this fic a couple of times, and this plot + ending just feels right. Let me know what you think. -Kash

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags & Warnings: 18+ Only, Cursing, Ben wanting you BAD, smut, drinking.

+

Never in a million fucking years would Ben admit to being tired of it all. The fighting, the anger, the planning, the business of it. But he is. Ben’s tired of fighting. He never wanted to be mixed in with Vault's new affairs. So he’s almost ecstatic when they decide to just keep him hidden in the woods instead of putting him under again. He’s their Golden God, (well he used to be) so their version of hiding him is a red brick Mcmansion 40 minutes outside the city. When he sees it for the first time he gets a wave of –I don't know– peace? Ecstasy maybe at the sight of it. 

Let me paint the picture of Ben’s newfound paradise. It’s on about 15 acres of land, surrounded by woods with a little creek tucked inside. When you come down the driveway there are rows of pine trees shading the pathway. To the east there’s a mountain, about a 40 minute hike to get to the base of it and an hour to get to the top. To the west there’s a river, a quarter mile wide and too long for Ben to guess. Big enough for him to fuck off on it for hours and still not see anyone. He gets a dock, a pontoon, plus a couple of trails all to himself. 

 All on the promise that he stays hidden, & out of the fray. 

If we’re being honest right now, even with all of this, Ben told them to fuck off. He isn’t a pet to lock away when he’s not needed, he has–had a life. He deserves a life. 

“We can’t guarantee you a life outside of what we’re offering you now, Ben,” Jeremy, Vault's coordinating agent for Soldier Boy says. He’s a weasley looking man, short with neatly parted black hair & wire-framed glasses. They’re standing on the back deck of the house, looking out to the river as the sun starts to set. His suit’s a little too tight, and not at all fitting for the summer heat. He keeps pulling at his tie, and dabbing his forehead with his pocket hankie. “All we’re asking is that you remain here for now, and once we’re able to settle our affairs and guarantee you a position without ..” He trails off. 

Ben already knows. “Yeah,” He’s annoyed. “ Once you can get my sperm mutant under control, I get it.” He nods, and mulls over the thought for a moment, taking a good look at the property. It’s honestly, truly, not a bad deal. He’s just pissy because—“I’m not stayin’ here without getting high, Johnny.” he says matter of factly. 

Jeremy doesn’t even miss a beat, he’s nodding immediately. “Understood, Vault is very aware of your extracurricular activities and we’ve already supplied you with a month’s worth of—” 

“I’m gonna need more.”  Jesus let him finish.

“Yes, sir,” Jeremy wipes the sweat from the back of his neck, and pulls a phone out of his pocket. “We have a delivery guy coming once a week with groceries, as well as anything else you may need. Just text this number with your list and we’ll send him over asap.” He hands Ben the phone and motions out to the water. “This is a great offer, Ben. No other Superhero is getting a set up like this, unlimited food, wifi, a boat—” 

“It’s a pontoon.” 

He ignores him. “And enough weed, coke, and whateverthehell else to kill all of Manhattan if you want it.” He locks eyes with Ben, smiles, & It’s quite frankly almost eerie. “Just stay here and let us handle the rest.” 

He sits on it for about 10 seconds, before nodding and turning the phone over in his hands. 

“How long?”

And that’s just the least of it. 

+

About a month into it, Ben starts to get a little….restless. Yeah, sure, that’s the word for it. He’s content with the land, and the food, and the drugs, and has even started a little garden. It’s not huge, but he’s already gotten a few sprouts from his potatoes, so that’s something. 

However, he’s still Ben. Still Soldier Boy. Still a man of needs, and cravings like he’s always been. Only now it’s panged with something like loneliness. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe it’s the memories of his old life, and how everyone he loved turned against him. He was a son of a bitch, so maybe he deserved it. Whatever, anyways—

It’s a tuesday night when he finally hits fuck it territory. He’s been watching porn for three hours, and is–honest to God–tired of his hand & a screen. He swipes out of PornHub, and looks up the nearest Gentleman's club outside of the city. Because that’s what he is, a gentleman. 

He gets dressed and walks two hours into a small town and makes a beeline for ‘Synn’. It’s a ‘not too shabby’, but shabby, looking gentlemans club on the east side of town, right off the highway. It’s a one story concrete building with tinted windows, & nondescript except for the giant neon purple sign outside. ‘Synn Gentlemen's Club’ it reads, with the silhouette of a woman next to it. The inside does it a little more justice. It’s got dark purple walls, and an honestly very well stocked bar all on a landing, plus a few tables and chairs. The floor is scattered with stains, and the walls have a faint smell of cigarettes. The rest of the club is almost like one giant conversation pit, with stairs leading down to the main floor, & two main stages right in the middle of the room. Both stages have mirrors at the back of them, so wherever you are in the club you can get a view. God does he love the view. 

Ben loves women. I don’t know if you know that, actually I know you don’t know that, but he does. The way women talk, the way they walk, move their hips, their lips, their touch, their smell, their taste. Fuck, he loves the taste. He’s a bit more partial to older women, but lately he’s bent his own rules. Twenty-four is the youngest he’ll go, and even then it’s…iffy. Maturity is a big thing for him. 

Here he’s happy to bend his rule to accommodate. He sits in a darker corner, his hat pulled low, and just enjoys the show. An hour, and nine beers in, & He’s gained just enough confidence to catch eyes with one of the girls in the club. She’s pretty, not exactly his type, but pretty. Long blonde hair, and a tiny sparkly pink one piece that barely hides anything. 

Believe it or not he’s shy. Tonight Ben’s shy. Only because he’s sure he’s toeing the line right now being here, but he's feeling more hands on, so when she asks if he wants a dance, he immediately says yes. It lasts all of two minutes. He wants more, but not with her, and he can’t even put his finger on why he stops her from asking if he wants to go to the VIP room, but he does. He pays her and immediately leaves. 

Back to his hand. Back to missing….something.

+

A week later, right as he’s snorting enough coke to down two bull elephants off of his coffee table, the doorbell rings. He quick sniffs, and wipes whatever’s left on his nose onto his gums before standing up. “Shit,” he half groans as he wobbles. Everythings a little too turnt at the moment, so he immediately sits back down and puts his head in his hands. “Oooooh, shit.”

He’s about 40 seconds deep into an almost meditative state when the doorbell rings again plus five knocks. This time he hears a “Hellooo?” And a softer, “Fuck, it’s hot please hurry up.” from the other side of the door. He knows you don’t mean for him to hear it, he can’t help it. He wishes he didn’t. Everything is too bright, and too loud, and his jaw is starting to grind from all the coke so no, hearing you or seeing you for that matter is not on his list. 

Regardless, when you start knocking again he’s up. In three seconds he’s around the couch, and swinging open the front door. The heat hits him immediately and so does the sight of you. Oh God she's gorgeous. He’s gotta lean on the doorframe a bit to keep steady, and get a good look at you. 

You’re standing in the doorway with two arms full of groceries. He’d completely forgotten about …Matt? Max? The guy Vault hired to buy him groceries, toiletries, and drugs. The other day he let himself in when Ben didn’t answer the door fast enough. Ben was shitting, and didn’t hear the doorbell. Or the door open for that matter. He scared Ben when he walked into the kitchen, & Ben threw a chair at him. He–thankfully–only shattered his collarbone. Needless to say the poor bastard quit while being loaded in the ambulance. The important part of that story is you. Standing here now instead of Mr. Irrelevant. 

Ben smiles at you and silently thanks God for the summer heat. Your gray T-shirt is just tight enough around your chest that he can see the outline of your nipples. I promise he’s trying not to stare, so he’s gotta work a little harder not to let his eyes drag down body. 

“Excuse me,” He’s not doing a good job.You’re just so pretty, baby. Even when you frown like that. “I’m y/n,” You say it slowly and a little sarcastically. You caught him staring, he knows he deserves it. He honestly likes it. “Jeremy sent me to drop off your groceries since Jackson–” That’s his name! “–quit. I’d shake your hand, but,” You hold up the bags, & Ben immediately reaches to grab them out of your hands. You look too good to work at Vault. Long lashes, pretty lips, and the way your hips curve in those shorts. He’s gotta ignore how much he wants to-

“Let me help with those,” He cuts his own thoughts off. “Are there any more in the car?” 

You nod. “Yeah there’s a lot more, let me help you at least.” You turn to walk back down the pathway. 

He takes a few steps out, and too eagerly says “No, Ma’am. Let me get em’.” Ma’am.

You don’t even stop walking. You just wave him off and say “It’s alright, I want to help. Honestly if you want to relax I can get these unloa–” He’s not listening. He’s coked out & kind of dazed, but he’s still a gentleman. Sort of. He can’t help but to watch your ass as you walk away. Your shorts look perfect on you, and everytime you step your ass jiggles a little. 

He just met you and he can tell you don’t like him. He stares too hard, his hair is a mess, he’s wearing stained sweatpants and a stained tank top to match (Had he realized you were coming he would’ve gotten dressed), and boy does he like you. He already knows he’d devour you if you give him the chance. Give em’ the chance. 

It takes about six minutes to unload everything out of your truck, Vault’s truck as you tell him. They gave you something big enough to haul all of his things in. A shitload of food, clothes, toiletries, fishing equipment, new hiking boots, and a black duffle bag you weren’t allowed to look in. Ben helps as much as he can which helps speed the process along. Now, however, he’s just sitting at the kitchen island bouncing between small talk, and admiring you put his groceries away.

“So,” He puts his forearms on the countertop and leans in. “Are you from here or..” Ladies and gentlemen, Soldier Boy! Jeez, try a little harder.

“No actually,” You say, pulling a couple of cases of strawberries out of bags, before putting them in the fridge. “I moved to the city about a year ago when I got hired at Vaught.” 

“And is this all you do?” You’re doing amazing, Ben. He cringes a little at himself for saying it like that. ‘All you do’ , it’s a little condescending. 

You don’t even let it phase you. “No, actually, I’m Jeremy’s assistant and team lead.” You say before dropping down to a squat to load a few cases of beer onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. “I’m just here because I haven’t had time to hire a new personal shopper for you. I’ll have one for you by next week though, I promise.” 

Oh, please don’t promise that.

He tries so hard not to watch you, but Jesus he can’t help it. He’s got his eyes locked on you. The muscles in your back move every time you pick another case up, & your ass is sitting so prettily as you sit on your haunches to balance yourself. You stand back up, languid and smooth and your legs are so fucking-

“Okay,” You say, turning back around. He’s looking straight at you, and praying you didn’t catch him staring again. Part of him hopes you did. “That’s about everything, I don’t think you need help putting your personal items away, do you?” 

He fights the urge to say yes. “No, I-I’m good, but are you busy?” What is he doing? 

You pause and your eyebrows raise. “Uh, well today’s my day off, but-” 

“Stay for a bit,” It’s a statement he says more like a half-question.  “If you’d like. I have a-uh pontoon, and I’ve wanted to take someone out on the river since I got here. It’s my thanks for you using your day off to come here.” He smiles, and tries not to be too obvious about how much he wants you to say yes. 

“That’s kind of you,” You say smiling back before walking around the island towards your keys on the table. “but I have to go, I have a few errands to run.”

He’s good at hiding disappointment. He shrugs a bit, and keeps a warm smile. He can’t help but like the sound of your voice, even when it’s letting him down easily. “Okay, well can I ask you for a favor?” 

You put your hands on your hips and look up at him. “Sure, what can I do for you?” 

Sweetheart, so much. What he actually says is, “If you have time, would you mind coming again next week instead of someone else?” Oh he’s bold about it. “I just-” He shrugs. “I like our conversation. More than mine & Jacobs.” 

You laugh, and it makes him wanna be good to you. “His name is Jackson, and I’ll see.” You look him up and down, and Ben swears you bite your lip a bit. “Let me see your phone, I’ll give you my number so you can let me know if you need anything else.” You hold your hand out, and he’s immediately passing his phone to you. 

Oh he needs a lot. “Oh I need a lot.” He says before he even realizes it. Fuck. 

You just chuckle and keep putting your number in. You’re cool, you’re so fucking cool, you know that? When you finish you hand it back to him, and his hand grazes yours. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t really like that.

“So if I text you tonight and say I need something, you comin’?” He says, saving your number.

“Nope,” You say matter of factly, walking to the front door. “But give me a week, if I can’t find someone for you, you’ll see me here again.” 

He follows right behind you, eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. He does a little jog to grab the door before you do, and opens it for you. “Don’t look too hard then, that pontoon is just waiting for a chance at you.” And so am I. You give him a look at that statement, but say nothing.

He leans against the door as you walk out, and follows you all the way to the truck. “Can I only text you for things I need?” He says before reaching to open your car door too. Again, Ben is a gentleman through and through. 

You sit in the driver's seat and ask. “Is there another reason to text me?” 

He’s standing between you and the door now, and if we’re being real honest, he likes looking at you like this. The SUV is high enough that you’re eye to eye now, and he’s got a helluva’ view. He steps in a little & you’re even prettier up close. Nice cheekbones, pretty lashes, full lips. He puts one hand on the truck and keeps the other on the door, and leans into you a bit. His heart, Jesus, jumps a little when you don’t lean away from him. His breath deepens when you start looking him up and down too. Fuck, this is a moment. 

Sweetheart, you’re givin’ him all sorts of ideas to hold on to, you know that? 

“Absolutely, I needa’ get to know you a little better. Seeing as you know where I live and all.” He’s all eyes on you. His voice is kind of low now, and he can’t even help licking his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay a little bit longer? Let me cook you somethin’, show you how much I appreciate you, Y/n.” He’s practically drooling it out. 

He’s–okay–he’s not even trying to hold back how much he wants you. His voice is too low, he’s too close, and looking you up and down too much for it not to be obvious. You clock it, immediately, and–against your better judgment–lean into him. So close that your noses almost touch, and you reach your hand behind him. 

“I appreciate the offer but,” You say, grabbing the door. “I’m a little busy tonight.” 

He wants you so bad it hurts, and he just met you. He can’t help it, he’s leaning into you, eyes closing, and–

“Ah,” You almost whisper, smiling and pulling back. This is so funny to you. “I’m not the one for that, but I appreciate the thought. Excuse me.” you look behind him to the door and he doesn't move at first. 

Instead he just eyes you. He’s never had a woman play with him like that, and he’s torn between wanting more and none of it at all. You are the one for that, you’re just not there yet. You will be. He steps back, and you close the door, starting the car before rolling the window down. 

“You have my number, Ben,” The way you say his name makes him want to howl. “Call me if you need me.” 

“I promise I will, Y/n.” He says as you back up, turn, and pull down the driveway. He doesn’t go inside until your suv is out of his sight. 

+

“Fuck, Y/n,” He moans, sitting back in his bed & jerking himself off to the thought of you. “Yes, baby, keep ridin’ it.” 

He’s panting, eyes closed, imagining you on top of him. Fucking him like your life depends on it. He’s never heard you moan, but he's imagining something sweet, and addicting coming out of you. He starts bucking up into his hand, and imagines you whining at how deep he’s going. 

‘Be-e-en,’ You’d moan, mouth open and drooling from how good he’s hitting it. You would grip his hair and bounce on him the way you know he likes it. ‘Ben, please baby, harder!’

He starts fucking himself harder at your imaginary requests. He’d do any–and everything you told him to, and quickly at that. “Fu-uck, y/n, you know I like that. You know I like that, baby.” He moans to no one, but the thought of you. 

He imagines you swirling your hips on him, looking him in his eyes while you say, ‘Fuck baby I’m gonna cum. Ben, please,’ & he can’t hold it anymore. You are, even in his imagination, just too much. He cums all over his hand and stomach, and moans your name a couple of times for good measure. 

And for a while he just lays there. Panting, eyes closed, mind full of you. Fuck ‘Synn Gentlemens Club’, you’re what he’s been missing. That thought really wakes him up. He just met you, and compared to the hundred other women he’s slept with in his lifetime, you knock him back a little. The way you talk, the way you walk, how you laugh, and even how you tell him no. You’re not taken aback by him, you don’t fear him, you toy with him a little bit and what’s worst of all is he likes it. He really likes it.  He likes it so much that he wipes his hand off on his stomach and grabs his phone. Immediately finding your name and texting you a simple ‘Hello’.

+

A/n: Thank you for reading <3 If you want to be tagged in the next chapter you can DM me or reply to this post!

It Was Never Meant To Hurt

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

It’s been 4 days since she’s seen him last. Four days since they gave into each other and she woke up next to an empty bed. It hurts more than she cares to admit, to be used and discarded.

Masterlist

Four days.

Four days since she woke up to an empty bed, the wonderful memories of the night before, the touches and whispered promises against skin going sour the longer she stared at the empty spot next to her.

He’d taken his boots, the shirts he sometimes left in her army-issued wardrobe, and even the pillow smelled nothing like him anymore.

It was almost like he’d erased every trace of evidence that he might be in her life.

And it hurts like a bitch.

“Stay?” She’d whispered into the crook of his neck, shuddering breaths shared between the two of them as she lay there pliant and sweaty in his arms.

“If you insist, love.” He’d whispered, lips pressed to her temple, a deep, satisfied sound rumbling in his chest. It was the best she’d felt in so long, safe and guarded and blissful just laying there with the person she’s loved for over a year now.

They’d been together for a few months now, shared heated glances during meetings, lingering touches before missions, teasing remarks through the comms. It had been good, they had been good. She thought Simon had come to trust her more with the way he’d taken his mask off for her the first time he kissed her.

She’d tried to convince herself it was all in her head at first. That Ghost just wanted his clothes back. Keeping his boots in his own room was more convenient after all, and scents normally faded away, didn’t they?

It was easy to pretend at first, to go about her day like nothing was wrong, like there wasn’t a gaping hole in her chest expanding with every step she took, every dark corner she glances in hoping to see a glimpse of that mask of his.

She’d lost hope on the third day when she finally spotted Ghost in the hallway for the first time since that night…

And he’d walked right past her.

Not even a glance.

She remembers standing there for a moment, stunned at the blatant ignoring, the soft footsteps fading away indicating his departure.

So was she just…another notch in his bedpost?

Was he just playing with her to get her in his bed? It made sense. He’d gotten what he’d wanted and if that really was the case, there was no reason to talk to her and keep her around other than for their missions, was there?

She wants to laugh, or cry? Scream, maybe? Would that make it feel better, loosen the tightness in her chest at the indignation of being used and discarded like-like she was someone cheap?

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forces her feet to keep moving to Price’s office. This feeling could stay lodged inside her, but it didn’t mean she could disregard her duties for it.

Still, hot, angry tears prick at her eyes, ones she refuses to let fall lest they show the world her inner turmoil, her embarrassment, and anger.

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Four days.

Four days since Ghost last felt anything close to content.

Clenching his jaw, he focuses on the methodical movements of the pistol in his hand, checking the capacity, reloading and firing off a clip.

One, two, three.

Head, neck, heart.

Three lethal shots.

Three days since he last felt her touch.

Taking a deep breath, he lowers the weapon a fraction, trying to get his thoughts together. Ghost was a cold man, he knew how to push things aside and focus on the task at hand, but he never could seem to push her out of his mind.

Even now, in the middle of practicing in the base’s shooting range, every time there’s a moment void of the bang of a shot fired, his thoughts drift to her as if his mind needs her to fill the physical absence left behind.

“Fucks sake.” He mumbles under his breath, switching out the bullets.

He loves her too much.

The day Simon Riley loses her is the day he fears he’ll lose whatever’s left of him. The shattered, broken pieces of a man that she had somehow stitched together into something worth loving in his eyes.

All his broken pieces are jagged and sharp, nicking and cutting the fingers of anyone who tries to piece them back together.

Her hands are bloody with the effort.

It’s why he needs her to understand, needs to stay away from her because Ghost is not someone who is easy to love. Inevitably he’ll put her in harm’s way, taint her with his darkness to a point where even she may consider it unforgivable.

Avoiding is easier than giving it a chance.

Ghost calls it a tactical retreat.

The door opens, and he doesn’t hear it creak but it’s through pure instinct alone that Ghost spares a glance to it, catching wide eyes with his own.

His body hums with anticipation, with the itch to reach out and touch, grab, feel. She looks…tired, he registers. They’re still staring at each other, his gaze impassive, hers surprised and…was that a flash of anger and hurt? They stay exactly where they are.

She’s expecting him to say something, Ghost knows. Maybe to break the silence between them that’s been lasting the past half week, maybe to explain and clear the air.

He turns away from her silently, fires off a couple of shots at the nearest target.

It was for the best.

Ghost was a selfish man, but not selfish enough to cause someone he loves harm. Being with him was a liability, he’d realised that when she’d drifted off to sleep in his arms, an action so full of trust it made his cold heart twist. He has no doubt she can handle herself. She was part of the 141 after all, handpicked by Price.

But at the end of the day, she was still human. Not immortal.

So was he, if the painful ache in his heart was anything to go by.

He half expects her to leave, so he’d be mildly surprised and frustrated when she plants herself a few feet away from him, bringing up her own weapon. She fires.

Three shots.

Heart, heart, heart.

There’s nothing but the popping of bullets for the next few minutes, though Ghost never seems to look away from her for more than a couple of seconds. Her movements become more agitated, more jerky like she’s getting progressively more antsy.

It’s only when her gun clatters to the floor and she lets out a pained groan that he snaps his head towards her instinctually.  

Clutching onto her hand, she glares at the gun underneath. She’d touched the hot barrel, her fingertips an angry burning red.

“What?” She snaps, the frown on his face deepening when his eyes flicker to her face. “Finally got something to say?”

“You should get that to medbay.” Is all he says, turning back to his own weapon.

A beat of silence, then a huff of frustration, and suddenly she’s right in his face, standing so close if he breathed in deep enough their chests would brush. It jars him on the inside, being so close to her after so long but outwardly he pins her down with a calm, blank stare.

“So that’s it then, Simon?” She says, eyes narrowed. “We’re back to this now?”

He clenches his jaw but says nothing. It’s the wrong move because it seems to irritate her further. “You just-you left me.” She exclaims. “Acting like I don’t exist, actively ignoring me? What the fuck, Simon?” Mixed in with the fire in her eyes is a layer of hurt which he spots easily.

How does he explain himself?

She doesn’t give him the chance.

“I mean, fuck-” She exhales sharply, turning her head to the side for a moment. When she turns back his heart drops at the light sheen of dampness in her eyes. “If I knew you just wanted to sleep with me I wouldn’t have gone along with it.” Her voice is the barest bit less angry now, more…defeated. “You led me on for five months. Five months. Just to get me in my bed and call it a day.” She barks a laugh that makes a chill run down his spine. “You’re a heartless bastard, you know that?”

Her voice cracking at the end makes reality crash back down to him.

Muted horror creeps into him as he takes in what she’s saying, what she’s assumed.

She thinks he used her. Just wanted to get into her pants and toss her aside.

For the first time in years, Simon Riley feels dread.

“What was it? Was I not good enough for Ghost?” She mocks, but it’s almost like she’s talking to herself, reflecting in some sick way. “You saw someone who was easy on the eyes and took it as a challenge, is that it? For what, some kind of intrinsic satisfaction?” She runs a hand in her hair, briefly pulling at the roots before letting go. “You shouldn’t have pretended it meant anything to you when-”

“You don’t know anything.” He cuts her off with a low voice.

“I think I understand enough.”

“You don’t.”

“Then explain.” She exclaims, shoving him hard. The man doesn’t budge, hands snapping up to grab her wrists and keep them pressed to his chest. “Try and talk yourself out of this once you mangy-”

“It’s for your own good.” He says.

“Who the hell are you to decide what’s good for me?”

“I’m not easy, love.” He says, tightening his grip when she tries to pull her wrists away. “This was never going to be easy.”

“Don’t call me that.” She hisses, and damn if Ghost was a more emotive man it would have made him wince. “I was ready for that.” She clenches her fists. “I knew it would never be easy, but you’re making it fucking impossible by avoiding me.”

“You’ll get hurt.” He sighs, frustrated that she just doesn’t seem to understand.

“You’ve already hurt me.” Her voice breaks.

He blinks, her words rattling around in his mind for a second.

He has.

Simon has hurt her. Perhaps more than any physical injury probably could. Tears prick at her eyes, just barely about to fall, and he’s never seen her look so tired, so exhausted, and shaken even after some of their toughest missions.

Simon has seen her get shot in the leg and walk it off without a trace of tears, yet here she stands in front of him on the verge of breaking down because Simon made her feel used.

Worthless.

Because of him.

Shit.

Releasing a shaky breath at the realisation, Ghost lets his hands travel up her arms until they graze her shoulders, grabbing gently. She lets him.

It’s more than he deserves after what he’s let her believe for the past four days.

Dread, loathing, and anger churn through his gut. Not at her, never at her. At himself, for thinking that pushing away someone so strong-willed could ever result in anything but catastrophe for the both of them.

Screw him and his attempts at being selfless.

Simon Riley is a selfish man at heart.

He pulls her into his chest, sighing in muted relief as she pressed her forehead against his chest. Like she used to.

Like it belongs.

“Thought you’d be safer if you kept your distance.” He says low and accented into her temple, brushing his lips against it through his mask like he did the night he left. “I realised it that night.”

“So you left?” She whispers shakily, hands clutching onto the back of his t-shirt. “Instead of talking to over with me, you just fucking left?”

His throat tightens uncomfortably. “Thought it was best.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” If he feels her tears soak through his shirt, he doesn’t bring it up.

“I see that now.” He tangles a hand into her hair, and the familiarity of it nearly knocks the breath out of her lungs. “Didn’t know it’d hurt you this much.”

“I didn’t think-…” Her breath hitches, and she pulls away to try again, meeting his gaze with tear-stained eyes but a demanding, soft gaze. “I didn’t think it’d be that easy for you to leave.”

Screw him. His hands tighten around her and he shakes his head firmly.

“You think it was easy to leave you?” He scoffs, disbelief painting his voice. “You’re out of your mind if so.”

She blinks, stilling as if it’s new information and he’ll admit to feeling the slightest bit remorse that he’d led her to believe that he’d have no problem leaving behind one of the only good things in his life just like that. Without a second thought.

“It was harder than any goddamn op I’ve been through.” He rumbles, watching her eyes widen. “Didn’t think I’d get past your door before turning back.”

Her silence unsettles him, because she doesn’t speak for a moment, just takes him in. Weighing him, weighing his words and his actions. Five months of progress against one night of fucking up.

Simon won’t admit that he holds his breath, knowing that her next word would be a declaration of where the both of them would go from here.

Her answer comes in the form of her wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

The relief that hits him is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“I’ll fix it.“ He mutters, rubbing circles into her waist. “I’ll fix this, sweetheart.”

“You better,” she whispers into his skin, her eyes fluttering shut.

Requests Are Open!

(30/06/2023)

LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND

character/s: eren jaeger x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: eren isn’t very happy to sit back and watch his best friend, who he is very much in love with, date another man. everyone has there breaking point, you were his. (4.2k)

WARNINGS: 18+/mdni, cheating (not on reader or eren), slight angst, praise kink, fingering, penetrative sex, no condom (remember to wrap it up y’all), heavy cursing, a little bit of soft eren mixed with simp eren, some mean eren sprinkled in there, a dash of pining, mocking, technical exhibitionism, some degradation, i hope i don’t miss anything

A/N: i seriously don’t remember sitting down to write this, also eren finds literally any and every way to insult your boyfriend

Keep reading

I kept seeing this cold wall/sleep arrangement meme and wanted to give it my own spin, I hope this has been informative.

“You okay honey?”

Inspired by this post

Summary: the TF141 boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who will play the role of the doting yet protective boyfruend for you tonight so pervs don’t come flirt with you

It’s short, but my brain isn’t working lately

warnings: some sexual content

“Guys come on, seriously.” I stared on as Price and Soap were in the ‘finals’ of their competition to see who’d be your fake boyfriend tonight at the bar. Price cheers as he finally defeats Soap, wrapping his arm around you and placing a sweet kiss to your temple.

This had been an ongoing thing with the four of them since you had an altercation with a creep at a bar and had to punch said dude in the face. The boys didn’t want you to worry about that anymore, so they always play the role of the protective boyfriend/fiancé/husband for you. It’s worked well so far, so you can’t complain.

You also won’t complain about the attention you get from them.

Each man had a different way, each with their own pros and cons.

Gaz was sweet and affectionate, and he was calm of a guy were to come up to you. He handled everything with grace, but he wasn’t too keen on being super touchy. He’d compliment you, stand behind you during conversations and maybe place a hand on your tight, but that was all.

Ghost, was hardly a boyfriend type. He didn’t ever touch you, unless you physically forced his hand into yours, and even then he’d tense at the action. As much as he cared and wanted to protect you, he wasn’t there to pretend to be your boyfriend, he was there to pummel any man who looked in your direction.

Soap, he was so much fun when he was your fake boyfriend. He was touchy, clingy, fiesty and all over perfect. He was always by your side, hands around your waist, lips pecking your neck lightly, teasing you. That was his approach, he’d tease you all night, make you want him. Most of the time, the moment you both left the bar, you’d burst out laughing at how you two acted, but there’s been some nights you ended up in his bed.

Price, was a beautiful fake lover. He was sweet and tender. He catered to you and always had a hand on you, silently claiming you as his to everyone in the bar. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear when he saw another man looking, making you squirm. He was your favorite by far, the way he so gently held you, kissed you. His actions were tender, the fire only showing up if a man wouldn’t leave you alone.

“You ready doll?” Price’s voice sounded out. You nodded, leaning into him.

You all headed out to the bar, the night going wonderfully. You had beaten Ghost in a game of pool, had the bartender buy you all a round of shots, and more. The music had you swaying your hips as you lined up your shot in pool. You were against Soap now, the championships.

You were lining up to hit the 8-ball, your jeans tightening around your ass when you felt a pair of strong hands grope you. You smiled, prepared to see Price, but before you could turn around, your eyes met all 4 men across the table from you. All four of them looked angry. You fully stood up, turning around to see an older man, maybe a couple years older than Price looking down at you seductively. “Can I help you?”

“Your ass looked to delicious, I couldn’t help myself.” He licked his lips.

“I suggest you back off.” Your voice was matter of factly.

“Why? You gonna hurt me? A little thing like you?” He cooed. I couldn’t help but laugh at the man. “What’s so funny?” He smiled.

“I won’t hurt you, but they will.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder to the four men.

“You okay honey?” Price’s voice purred beside me, his hand landing on my back.

The guy looked up to Price, who towered over him. “I don’t know, am I?” I said, smirking at the man.

“I was just telling her how pretty she looked.” He gulped.

Price chuckled. “By grabbing her ass? Nuh uh.” Price stepped forward. “Let’s go have a little talk.” Grabbing the man’s arm, he took him outside of the bar.

Soap ran to you, asking if you were okay. You smiled and nodded your head. “Yeah I’m okay Johnny.” You patted his bicep.

Ghost and Gaz stood by the pool table, watching everyone’s things, including Price’s car keys and your purse.

Soon, Price waltzed back into the bar. His hips swaying as he sauntered back over to you, swooping his arm around your waist and pulling you in. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.” He kissed the top of your head as you returned to your pool tournament.

A couple of weeks later, you were all out a new bar across town, Soap’s arms wrapped around your waist as you spoke to some people. He had won the rock, paper, scissors that night. Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice, “You!”

Your face turned as Soap straightened up to his full height, one of his hands remaining on the small of your back. Your eyes met the man from the bar that night with Price. “Who’s this man? You get around fast.”

His voice was confident, like he had caught me doing something wrong. I looked at Soap, who looked ready to pounce. The fire was in Soap’s eyes as he bared his teeth in a smile. “You like my lady? Like what you see?”

“She’s a fiery one she is, just look at her.” The man bit his lip as he made a curve motion with his hands to simulate the shape of your hips. Soap let out a low chuckle.

“Any man knows you don’t answer that question honestly.” He dead panned, Soap’s voice deadly. “Why don’t I make this easy on you and let you walk away unharmed?”

The other man licked his lips, unmoving. Soap took a step forward, his hand sliding off of you as he stood just next to you, his size defined next to you.

“Either you walk away or you never walk again.” Soap growled.

The man quickly cowered, eyes widened. “Where do you find these men?” He shouted before scampering into the crowd.

“Thank you.” I said, kissing Soap. He was always much more willing to do PDA than the others, really making it believable to those in the bar that you were a couple.

“Anything for you my dear.” Soap said sweetly. “Shall we ditch this joint?”

I giggled, grabbing at his chest. “Are you gonna do that thing with your fingers again?” I bit my lip.

We heard someone clear their throat as we both backed away from each other, looking to the other 3 men. “We’re right here ya know?” Ghost spoke.

Soap and I laughed as the others bursted out in chuckles and smiles.

“Ya we know.” You said, earning some more chuckles out of the men and an ass grab from Soap.