#katzwrites

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

part 1 | part 3

ghost distribution system where you’re now sat on the tail gate of his truck, awaiting him to finish changing your tires as you eat the food that he made you. which is terrific by the way.

he has insisted that you sat inside to avoid the bugs and the chilly wind, but you said you didn’t mind. he replied he did and grumbled something you didn’t quite hear and went to make you put on his much bigger jacket.

so you sat there, a bowl of soup in your hands as you watched the sunset, your music blasting from the small speaker in his car, windows rolled down. you watch him change all your tires as the sky got darker.

“do you always do this?” you asked him as you slurp your soup from the bowl. his jacket now taken off from you and merely draped over your shoulders, your body warm from the soup.

he hummed in replied, a silent question for you to repeat yourself. he sets down the last tire on the stack just outside his garage and walked over to you, wiping his hands on a rag. “what do you mean?”

“you know…stalk people’s cars, out cryptic notes on their dash…take them home and i guess now what? kill me?” you ask him, the last part jokingly as you chew on the spoon you’re using.

he gives you a side glance as he huffs a laugh, looking away from you and thus, ignoring your little comment.

“hey! look at me when i talk to you!” you tell him as you hit his shoulder playfully. the sun was starting to set, streaks of orange and yellow and red filled the sky.

he turned to look at you, just like you had commanded him. he’ll always listen, you know. “did you know i actually really like sunsets?”

even with his balaclava on, you can see the crunch of his eyes as he gives you a soft smile. his twinkle, and not just from the sun. you smile at him. “i didn’t. what i also didn’t know was that you can cook.”

“i’m guessing that you’re saying it’s good?”

“very…i don’t think i could live without it.”

ghost nodded slowly and looks back at the sky. “this is the first time someone’s been at my house.”

you raised your eyebrows in shock as you leaned and tilted your head towards him, trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes to search for the truth. “you’re kidding.”

the weight of his pick-up shifted as he leaned back into it, shifting his weight onto the metal. he shakes his head and uses his heel to kick at the pavement underneath. “would you like to come back?”

you giggled and leaned back yourself, your palms keeping you. “dunno…will you cook?”

“always”

“tomorrow?”

“forever? i can change your tires again…”

master list | letter box | main directory

part 1 | part 2

ghost distribution system when you're walking from your parking space to the apartment building you live in before hearing small animal whimpers. the snow continues to plow through the city as you pull your scarf closer to you. the sounds echo again and you pause in your steps, awaiting for the source to make the whimpers again.

your feet step closer amidst the snow, it crunching underneath your heavy boots. the sound got less frequent as you turned the corner and peaked behind the parked car. to your surprise, a bundle of brown fur was curled up and snowed on. you gasp and reach down while unfurling your scarf to cover the bundle. as you did, the wind picked up and, from what you notice, is a tiny kitten.

you hurry up the stairs and into your apartment, quickly wrapping more blankets around your new furry friend. you turn on the heat, then a warm bath, then put your towel in the dryer to warm up. the little meows starts to continue again and you coo at it while dialing a number.

the kitten kicked the shallow water in your tub as you massage its soft fur. you giggle and it meows back in response. the knock on your front door startles you but you knew who it was.

you opened the door is a broad man who pushes past you, eyes fixed on your ceiling and a shopping bag in his hand.

"simon, i'm so glad you're here, i..." you turn to him after locking your door and see him reach up, batteries in one hand and the lid to your smoke detectors in his other. "oh, thank you..."

he mumbles as he continues to change them, "the beeping... it's uh...annoying..."

you smile and tap him on his shoulder as you walk to get your towel from the dryer. he follows behind and bangs the lid of your washer close, it's always slightly open.

you feel him close behind you again when you go to the bathroom, humming a familiar song as you walk in. the kitten walked around the warm water and mews at you and simon pokes his head over your shoulder. "is this why you called?"

you nod and bend over to pick up the tiny furball into the warmed towel as you dry..."can you check if it's a boy or a girl?"

he moves a bit, struggling to not bump into various corners in the small bathroom. he picks up the kitten by its scruff and you panic, cupping your hands underneath it to prevent it from falling. after a bit, he finally answers you, "dunno what i'm looking at."

you giggle and take the sopping wet kitten into your hand and continue to dry it, switching from the warm setting on your hair dryer and the towel.

"you think we should take it to the vet?" you ask him as he orders takeout on your phone. you look over at him, your fingers gently petting the kitten that's curled up on your chest, no longer damp and cold but warm and sleepy.

he nods, a bit distracted as he scrolled through what drink to get. "are we sharing custody?"

"like a divorced couple?" you ask him through a silly smile.

that gets a chuckle out of him and he elbows you softly. "we're not divorced."

"well we're not married either. we're not even dating..." you mumble the last part, a bit of hurt runs through your chest as you remind yourself. it was a thought that popped up late last week when he went home after installing your new dryer in your apartment.

after that, it plagues your mind every time you find him helping you or staring close to you. it sounds cheesy but you’ve thought of asking him “what are we?” a few times.

he noticed your silence and meets it with his own. you refuse to look at him, instead focusing on the purring cat on your chest. unbeknownst to you, simon meets your silence with confusion. “yes we are…?”

you snap your eyes at him, brows furrowed. “you never asked me!”

“i changed your smoke alarms…and your tires…” he begins, looking at your weirdly. you don’t get it, mostly because you can only see his eyes and a little under it.

you stare at him, he stares at you. then you begin, “but you didn’t ask…”

he looks at you, confused and kind of amused. he gives you a huff of playfulness and responds, “can i date you” can i marry you?

“yeah i guess…” you tease as you lean over and tap your shoulder against his.

he rolls his eyes and goes back to inputting his credit card into your phone to order food. “just for that i canceled your drink”

“asshole!” you hit him on the shoulder push him away from you, which he plays along and falls to the other side of the sofa.

a silence falls over the two of you once again, this time comfortable and a bit bashful as the two of you, mostly you, begin to process what just happened.

“what’re you gonna name….it” he breaks the silence, remembering that he really doesn’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet. “what about snow…gender neutral?”

“cheesy name…alex”

“basic”

“you’re impossible”

you laugh and he can tell you know he’s not serious, which is good. he’s always worried about pushing too many buttons, making you so upset that you leave. not right now though, his body relaxes.

“toaster?”

“fucking hate that…”

“toaster it is!”

"bloody hell..." the kitten paws at his outreach hand.

master list | letter box | main directory

ghost distribution system in which he sees that your tires are clearly too worn out but can’t muster up the courage to tell you. instead he gets some guy to write you a note with a simple “check your tire pressure” and then have it tucked into your windshield wipers.

when he gets there, he realized that your wipers are crusty and rough, guessing that every time you use them they get stuck and squeak as they struggle across the glass. he can’t find anything to write with nor can he find the person who lent him their handwriting, so he puts the note there anyway.

after work, he sees you walk to your car cautiously, first checking the perimeter, then under your car, and then your hand immediately going to get your pepper spray. fuck. “stupid stupid!” he thinks as it’s clearly suspicious and kind of concerning. but he sees you take the note, glance at it, and then look around. then you quickly drive off. good move.

the next day, at lunch, you approach him and he stares at you as you ask him for a favor, “hey can you check my tires…? i think i need to change them but i don’t want to get overcharged at the shop…because i don’t know anything about cars.”

he agrees and silently rejoices, he can practically see the confetti that sets off in his brain. “drop by my house. i’ll text you the address.”

you thank him happily and he grunts in reply, happy that the mask hides how hot he’s getting in the face. he watches you leave and he drums his fingers on the table top, thinking about what dinner to make since you’re coming over. oh and did he mention it’s a date?

his brain btw

master list | letter box | main directory

drop by the letter box!

a/n: NO COD SPOILERS I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT. philip graves is my baby my pookie bear my schnookums

MY TURN TO REQUEST 😈

how do you think Ghost would feel about his s/o who hates being touched but only allows him to touch them??? 😋😊

touchy feelies

warnings: gn! reader, combat medic! reader, gn!reader, pinning, a bit of mental exhaustion & guilt, self hair pulling

simon flinches if he’s caught off guard on base when someone gives him a friendly tap. even if it’s just soap who ends up giving him a friendly tap. he knows why that is, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

so when it comes to you, precious you, he gets it. he sees the way you side eye someone when they put a hand on your shoulder and how you shrug it off. he sees the way you avoid hugs like the plague. he sees you give weak smiles in exchange for pats on the back. he sees it all, he sees you.

the first time that you let him touch you, you both were skittish as can be. it was a simple fist bump but he knows it meant a lot to you. it was symbolic even. you initiated it, and thank god because simon would never push any boundaries, he wouldn't want it himself. it was simple really; a mission done well, you both staying alive with no major injuries, it was pretty ideal. as you both were about to land on the air-evac, you turn to him, a grin on your lips, "good to be alive sometimes huh?"

simon stared at you and your fist raised up a bit, he gulped but goddamnit, he couldn't resist it. he bumped his fist into yours and that alone made the both of you giggle on the inside like a crushing schoolgirl.

soap stared in utter confusion.

the next time you let him touch you was in the medical bay. you weren't broken, physically at least, but having to be on your feet all day with the weight of all those lives you couldn't save made you sick. it usually doesn't make itself known, today was just not a good day. simon was on his way to hit the showers when he walked past the open door, seeing you hunched over a crash cart, your head in your hands. the grip on your hair tightened and you looked just about to pull it all out.

he couldn't control his feet but soon he found himself backtracking and knocking on the door to get your attention. his body was attracted to you, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he was hesitant when you looked up at him, awaiting what he had to say. soon he was a mere two steps besides you. you stood up a bit straighter, head lifted and eyes focused on him.

his hand found your back, lighting touching your camis. "you're doing good, kid"

you don't know why but you didn't hate his touch, it was a good warmth. you stared at him. you tried to breathe it all in, and soon you found yourself breathing him in, a hug that you actually wanted for once. physical touch was new to the both of you, it was awkward, arms loosely around each other, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

thinking about how i’d storm into his home office, fluffy faux fur blanket wrapped around my shoulders and my weighted dino stuff in my arms. thinking about how i stand next to him with pouty lips and furrowed brows.

he spins in his chair to face me, slightly looking up from his position. he huffs a chuckle, a smile of amusement presents itself. “what’s with the look, darling?”

“you don’t love me.” i’d say, pouting more. his heart aches just a bit at the crocodile tears that form on the rim of my eyes, one tips over.

i wipe the planned, stray tear and the blanket falls onto the hardwood ground.

john clicks his tongue with a ‘tsk’ and picks up the fur, giving it a fluff to rid it of dirt and dust from the floors. he looks back at me, who’s still pouting.

his hand pats his thigh and i climb in. “you think i hate you, hm? hate you this much?”

i feel his beard rub into the skin of my neck as he nuzzles close to me, wrapping the blanket back around me. i don’t say anything, my frustrations still clear.

“what’s going on in that silly head of yours, love?” john’s arms wrap themselves over the blanket, holding me closer to his chest.

i don’t say anything still, playing on the angry wife act. he seems amuse as he licks the delicate skin of my neck and sucks it slightly. “i don’t think i could ever hate you.”

my act falters as my breathing quickens from him. fingers find his, crawling up and down his forearm. “i know.”

“then why did you say it?”

“missed you.” i confessed, laying my head on his shoulder. my eyes trained themselves on the stack of papers, all scribbled on with his all caps handwriting. “it’s so late.”

john hums and peeks at the time on his computer monitor. “then shouldn’t you be asleep?”

i close my eyes and rub my cheek and hair against him, much like a feline marking it’s territory, using its scent. “not without you…”

deadbeat dad!konig, a widower who spends his days drinking, hooking up, and working 12 hours a day night shifts to “provide for his kid” but also get away from her because she looks too much like his dead wife. he never thought he’ll settle down and when he did, his worst fears came true, and so did the past he was trying to escape

even with military pension and disability checks, it’s not enough so he keeps working. and his daughter keeps getting ignored “for good reasons”.

at 10, she stayed after school for hours before konig remembered he had to pick her up.

at 16, she got rear ended and konig was too drunk to get her. she cried until she the police came and they called her teacher to come get her.

things only started to change when you rushed into the house, finding your ass of a dad on his recliner, a beer in his hand. the papers in your hand splashed onto his lap.

“what the fuck?” he responded, gathering the papers and throwing at your face.

“i’m leaving for basic training in a month”

he looked furious. “no you’re not”

“yes i am. i’m going to find a fucking a family there, a real one.”

he looked at you as if you just poured cold water over him while he was asleep. he couldn’t believe it. “no you’re not.”

“i am. i signed. i leave in a month.”

he grumbled but looked away at you, not having enough courage to beg you to stay, beg you to stay right where he could protect you from the world that took your mother. he didn’t have the courage to say two simple words even as his chest tightened and his breathing staggered as you started packing in your room.

when the day came shortly after, he drove you to the airport. and to his surprised, he couldn’t control his own body as it took your bag out of the car and walked you to the gate. you look at him, almost waiting for him to fix things at the last minute.

he looked at you, thinking if he was just a bit more of a better man, this wouldn’t be how you say goodbye.

“i love you, mein liebling.”

you frown as tears fall from your face. “i love you too dad.”

…