#cs fox

PART 2 (SMUT)

You had no idea how you got into this position.

Something to do with your insecurities, probably; because, some core instinct within your body told you that there is no higher shame than telling your teammates you’re single - and a virgin.

Or maybe it was just your stupid mouth, blurting out a “yes” before you’d properly heard the question your excited Sergeant had asked.

‘Aw, go on, y/n, what’s he like?’

You baulked. ‘Um - he’s…’ and it spiralled down from there.

Up to date, your husband was tall, blonde and muscular, spoke with a Manchester accent -

Wait.

You’d hardly noticed, but your mystery man was starting to sound a hell of a lot like your Lieutenant, Ghost. Something he didn’t fail to notice.

It was getting out of hand when he decided to call at your quarters, stumbling upon you seated at your couch, wearing fuck all (at least, a singlet and shorts looked like heaven to Ghost after all of that tactical gear) all for you to sit up fast, surprised at his appearance.

‘Sir - !’

‘Left hand. Now.’

You presented your hand to him with a confused flush, and he snatched at it, examining your fingers until he gave you a triumphant look.

‘Where’s your wedding ring, lovie?’

‘M-my…’ you spluttered. You knew you’d been caught.

‘The ring your… ah… husband brought you.’

Swallowing down the thick lump in your throat was becoming more and more of a challenge. ‘I…’

‘I’m starting to doubt the existence of your husband… what did you say his name was again?’

‘S-sir, I…’

‘You thought I wouldn’t notice?’ he growled suddenly, strong hands fisting in your collar. ‘I don’t have a twin brother, y/n.’ hot breath flooded over your collarbone and neck, causing heat to pool embarrassingly low in your stomach. Blood rushed to your cheeks.

‘But we can certainly do something about your relationship status, sweetheart.’

2018 White Strawberry PPS Fox & Advent Calendar Event Grown Version Stim Board

So nobody even batted an eye when their lieutenant started joining the party, often found with his mask rolled up over that crooked, pale nose and a blunt jammed between his lips.

No-one spoke about it. Smoking wasn’t something you bragged about. Vices were like taboo in the SAS, no matter how much you drunk, how many girls you’d snuck into your quarters, or the amount of smoke in your breath, it didn’t come up in sober conversation.

You were glad of that when you found your Lieutenant’s stash of cigarettes, squirrelled away under the sink in the commons room. It was almost 11 when you left the room to light up, the chemicals soaking into your muscles and loosening every fibre as if by magic.

You sighed aloud, thick, white smoke pluming from your parted lips.

‘Thanks, LT,’ you snorted to yourself, leaning back against the grimy outside wall of the mess hall and scuffing your boots into the gravel.

‘I don’t remember doing anything for you, Sergeant.’

‘Fuck! Who’s the-‘ your head whipped around to face a hollow-cheeked skull, which in turn belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered and crooked-nosed… Lieutenant.

‘Sir,’ you muttered, discreetly crushing out the butt you’d dropped in surprise. ‘I…’

‘Save it. Why’d you take them?’

‘I needed to relax,’ you pleaded. ‘God, I only took one. I’ll pay you back or whatever…’

‘Mhm.’

//

It had been a few weeks since you’d been caught smoking behind the mess hall, and you still couldn’t look your lieutenant in the eye. It wasn’t like he made it any easier, though, what with that unnerving dark brown stare that never left your face.

You found yourself back at your old haunt that night, unable to sleep. The small overhang of the mess hall roof shielded you from about seventy per cent of the rain, the rest soaking into your hair and boots.

Footsteps. Heavy ones; you could hear the wet crunch of gravel as the figure approached. All you could see was the orangish light of a tiny ember… the end of a cigarette.

You stood up and held out a hand expectantly before you even registered who it was.

‘It’s a disgusting habit, Sergeant.’

‘Bit rich coming from the likes of you.’ you mumbled out the retort before you could think, and immediately regretted it, eyes widening and fists clenching. But to your surprise, he laughed.

‘Touché.’

A gloved hand extended toward you, a small, thin cylinder with smoke curling from one end slotted in between two fingers. You accepted the cigarette gladly.

‘Cheers.’

__________________________________________

no thoughts head empty

Idk what this is

You’d been trained to work on cut bench during Simon’s absence (“sick” - when he said it, it sounded a hell of a lot more like “hungover”). You actually weren’t half bad, so when he turned up, he was a little surprised to see you taking his place.

‘Alright, move over,’ he said after a beat, but you shook your head. ‘Nah. I’m cutting tonight,’ you clarified, trying to hide your grin.

‘You’re joking?’

Though he didn’t seem mad, just amused, as he dropped an apron over his head and chuckled.

It was a Sunday, so pretty slow business, which meant there was nobody rostered to take care of phone calls and counter orders. John, your shift runner, had asked if yourself and Simon were okay to answer the phone if it rang.

Taking phone calls was one of your least favourite parts of the job, but you still agreed.

And that’s how you ended up next to Simon at the counter, his hand dangerously close to your waist as he leant on the benchtop, phones nestled in the crooks between your neck and shoulder.

You didn’t even notice that he was finishing up his call when both of your hands reached for the card terminals; his huge mitt completely encasing your slender fingers as Simon tried to key in $30-50.

You tried to snatch your hand away, but he held it there, four fingers interlaced with yours and one typing in the customer’s card number.

A boiling hot blush crept across your cheeks as you mumbled apologies down into the phone, this wasn’t the first time a boy had touched your hand - why were you so flustered?

Heavier relief you’d never felt when he finally put down the phone, only to be replaced by panic when his back pressed up against yours, arms effectively caging you in against the counter as you weakly asked for Thomas’ - the man on the other end of the line - card number.

‘Alright there, baby?’ Simon asked, as if for all the world he was just training a newbie, like he was helping you take a call.

‘M fine,’ you mumbled, ‘2-7-7-7, 1-8-8-2.’

His hips shifted slightly against yours, God, he’s lucky there’s nobody else in store - and you shuddered, trying to finish the phone call as quickly as possible.

‘Thanks mate, have a great night,’ you said quickly into the phone, all but slamming it down on the receiver. ‘Simon - ’

‘What’s up?’

‘Can you… move…’ the last part was a weak, mumbled request, so much so that he laughed softly.

‘I don’t think I will.’ you gazed up at his face, eyes tracing over his angular jaw, thick neck, and heavily lidded brown eyes, and you couldn’t muster a smart reply.

And it was all you could do, after all, when you felt his lips make warm contact with your cheek, you gasped, revelling in the feeling of Simon’s smirk against your skin.

____________________________________________

yeyyeyeyeyey

FOXHOUND PART 11

loooong awaited

Reader callsign is Fox !

masterlist.

You leaned back, your shoulder blades bumping into the rough bark of a pine. Snow clung to your boots and cargo pants, but you didn’t care, not when Simon’s lips were pressed against yours and his breath was warming you up from the inside.

‘You’re so beautiful, sweet’eart,’ he breathed in between kisses, arms wrapping around your waist so he could lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

‘So beautiful…’

You were addicted to the sound of his husky voice, you wanted to swallow it right from his lips and keep it forever, God save you from this man…

The snow kept falling down around you, making small, glittering piles on the pair of dead foxes feet away from you. When Simon finally pulled away, his breathing was laboured and his eyes were dark.

‘My little fox…’ he whispered, tracing a finger down your jaw and pressing it against your lower lip. ‘You like a chase, hm? But I always catch up.’

‘What if I wanted to be caught?’ you smirked, hands finding their way underneath his collar and tugging him closer, thighs tightening around his waist.

‘Then you’d have known what was coming after I finally got my hands on you properly, sweet’eart.’

Suddenly you were slung over your Lieutenant’s shoulder like a rag-doll, one of his hands clamped around your inner thigh, his breath soaking into your clothes.

‘Simon - !’

‘What, lovie?’

‘Don’t have to carry me…’ you were already starting to get bothered by your position, thighs rubbing together and breath uneven.

2025 Halloween Event Banner Pet Ghost Bat Fox & Token Pet Blue Bat Dog Stim Board ~ for @glittermintgalaxy