#kidnapper!ghost

you flinched under his touch, but he just simply shushed you. "not gonna break a thing on ya, angel." that was his name for you. angel. he said that it was like you were given to him fro heaven, "if i do, i give ya the right to put a knife between my ribs."

it was unnerving to say the least. in the tiny home you both shared, locks on the windows, you had never seen a front door that needed a key to unlock from the outside. you tried getting out, but simon was simply so much bigger and stronger, that he didn't need to hurt you herd you back into a safer place.

"don't need to think about much anymore. safer here." he said in his gruff voice. you didn't know what kind of life this man had lived, but with the hunting knife on the coffee table, the well-used rifle over the fireplace and the old army formals in his closet. you knew that there was a story.

content includes: gn!reader, dubcon, male receiving head, slight hair pulling. i’ll have the smut under the cut so you can skip that bit if you’d like

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simon doesn’t like to leave you alone in the house for too long. beyond the fact that he always has that slight worry in the back of his mind. worried that you accepted your place with far less resistance than you should have and that you’re biding your time to try an escape.

it’s not you escaping he’s worried about. he’d burn a trail into the earth on a path to find you. drag you right back to your little cabin in the mountains. but if you had the chance and left it’d mean he was alone again. that everytime you cling to him, searching for salvation in his arms you were lying.

he’d never hurt you, he wouldn’t be like his father. sure he took you away from everything you knew but that was what was best. the moment he laid eyes on you he knew you were special. spent weeks stalking his little pet, finding out what you liked, what made you tick. he’d made sure his little home would be as welcoming as possible for you, for it to feel like yours too before he took you in.

the reason far greater than that small fear though was the fact that you’d be lonely. there were cameras installed in every nook of the home and some of meters of distance into the woods surrounding. whenever he checked up on you he’d catch you wistfully staring out the window. eyes darting over to clocks whenever you took a break from reading.

hugging yourself on the couch as the fire burned in the hearth nearby. he hated to see his pet so sad.

whenever he got back you’d offer him a smile, melting into his large, warm chest as he hugged you. face nuzzling into the cold fabric of whatever jacket he wore.

this was one of the days he had to leave for hours. he’s promised you that he’d have a surprise for you when he got back. it made you giddy, pestering him to give you a hint or two as to what it could be.

you didn’t expect him to come back hours later with a pet carrier in hand. a familiar green duffle with mesh pockets to let you see the cat on the inside. you were frozen in surprise as he opened the carrier to reveal the little black kitty inside, bright green eyes staring at you. a patch of white in the fur that made you almost think this cat was yours. the one you had before coming here with simon.

he huffs out a story about his days activities as the cat meows and comes prancing over to you. rubbing it’s body against you and yelling rather loudly.

he’d broke into your old house a few days ago apparently. just the front door really, left it open so your cat could escape. he’d went to the shelter today and adopted it after the workers let him know the family said the owner was gone. had them transfer the contacts on the chip and adopted your cat.

you listened to him as his story derailed to bitching about arguing with some grandma over the last cat stand on display at the pet store. your fingers trailing over long strands of fur as you took in the fact that he’d went through all that trouble to bring your child back.

to thank him you made a huge roast dinner. potatoes, carrots, greens, gravy to smother onto the beef. simon watched idly as you happily prepped and cooked the meal. smiles coming to your face everytime the cat came by to rub against your legs.

you leaned heavily against the scratched wood of the bar in front of you, wiping sweat from your incredibly hot face with your uncomfortable long sleeve (that you chose to wear because you were walking home in winter damn it) while your forehead felt like a weight was attached to it. you even started blowing air onto your forehead in an attempt for momentary relief. it wasnt this hot in here when you sat down

maybe its the mass amounts of people coming in, because your head is pounding from the noise and everyones voice overlaps and when you look out behind you, twirling in your stool to view the rager happening behind you- and theres nobody.

maybe an overstatement, you recognize helpfully through, there are a few people grouped together about but not enough to be this overwhelming. good, that means your brain is functioning through the fog that slowly poured over your skull.

“you alright?” a deep voice asks on your right

you look over with squinted eyes at the man who towered standing next to you, looking up from where you were crouched over your drink in a stool.

“uhhh,” you start hoping the few words would kickstart your brain enough to sputter out a response to this honestly scary looking man beside you, oh god hes still staring at you-

“im ok, just a little hot” you say with a laugh to make your tone sound convincing. he only squints in response.

he moves the chair next to you to stand closer, leaning forward on the bar like you as if he were getting a closer look. “hm. looks like you need some fresh air”

you nod, a ‘yeah maybe’ response barely off your tongue when he stands up and grabs under your arm, pulling you up with enough fluidity your fight or flight responses only comes to you once you gain your footing walking out of the bars door. he cautiously walks you to the parking lot (keeping a tight hand on your arm as you stumble to use momentum to get him off of your arm, when did your senses get so slow?), settling you against the wall near his car that blocks your visibility of the road.

you try to will your arms to move up or to get your legs to lift your ass up, to even get a foot off the fucking ground as the drugs he spiked you with start to fully kick in. the world fuzzes out with tour headache while he digs in the bed of his truck to open the duffel he kept all his things in, pulling some duct tape out and striding over to you with practiced ease, history with working under pressure you suppose.

after he secures tape rings around your thighs, ankles, wrists, and mouth, he hauls you up to your feet and places you on the right back seat like a doll. he pushes you down and you fall without any give, earning a nice chuckle from him before he slides you all the way into the cab. your head is floating, your chest might be heaving, tou recognize that this is a vital moment in how you end up at the end of this.

you need to sit up, you need to open that door, you need to scream at the top of your lungs but tears prick at your eyes when you cant even will your legs to lift up to latch your feet under the handle and launch out. you cant do anything but cry. the lock clicks as he slowly enters the drivers side cab, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt while lighting a cigarette and starting the car.

your eyes squint as it stays harder to stay awake, your breath uneven with weak garbled words exiting your mouth as you look in his eyes through the rearview mirror. his eyes squint under his thick winter balaclava with warmth, a smile. he reaches a hand back to grab around your thigh while he turns around in his seat. the edges of your vision black out

cw: stockholm syndrome

"what a way to go, lovie." he says long after the fact, his face still glistening with your essence. "keep trying, though. i don't mind it."

the way you soften up when his cock slides in deep, weakening the fists that pound his chest until your fingers unfurl and grip his shoulders instead. his eyes roll back as your nails dig in and scrape lines down his arm. he'll lean in close enough so you can bite him too. leave as many teeth marks as you can so he can show them off at the gym later when he's out to show that he's taken and not the other way around.

he cradles your head in one hand and press his forehead against yours, whispering promises and sweet nothings all in the same breath. swallowing every scream turned to mewls in his mouth while your legs curl around his waist while he fucks the brat out of you. fucking hell, it makes him weak just thinking about your doe eyes, no longer filled with fire and fury, now staring up at him like he hung the moon and stars.