â ď¸â ď¸this is an 18+ blog, so MDNI + please have an age in bio!! (basic DNI criteria applies too) will not interact with blogs with no age in bioâ ď¸â ď¸
đAsh, 29, she/they
đmostly cod x reader, some monsters x reader eventually (and I mostly write fem and gn readers)
đmy favorite cod charas: TF141 (can't choose just one, love all of âem), Graves, Valeria, Nikto, and KĂśnig
đđ¨My Art Blogđ¨
đmy bluesky
đđ§Ąđ¤ I appreciate every single nice comment and tag, they genuinely make me so happy!!đ¤đ§Ąđ
đfollows from ashgraves, it's my main sfw blog
!!DIVIDER CREDITS!!
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âŹď¸ masterlists under the cut âŹď¸
Masterlists For All Of My Fics
đˇPriceđˇ
đ§˘Gazđ§˘
đ§źSoapđ§ź
đGhostđ
â ď¸Gravesâ ď¸
đ¤´KĂśnigđ¤´
đNikolaiđ
đŠ¸NiktođŠ¸
đĽMultipleđĽ
đMonstersđ (most of these are of my oc Milo)
He'll have you sit on his lap naked, just so you'll get his jeans dirty. Something about it really makes his cock throb.
Or, he'll fuck you on his fingers while wearing his favourite pair of gloves before a mission, just so he has something to lick and smell when he gets lonelyâand you do get a helluva fucking when your scent wears off his gloves sooner than usual. As if you can control that.
After one too many punishments for that though, you pushed him down and sat on his face while he wore his balaclava. Practically waterboarding the bloke with your arousal. Simon always loved when you were just as perverted as he was.
The thing that turns you on disgusts you the most? You'll be bent over in your kitchen, garden, laundry; and Simon'll come up behind you, shove his fingers in you before pulling them out before you can properly register what he's doing, walking off and sucking his fingers with a pleased hum.
You've scolded him for it countless times, yet the pervert doesn't care. Smiling at you in a way that from any other man? It would make your stomach twist in disgust. But from Simon? You can't get enough.
And yes, he is in fact the type of guy to pull your asscheeks apart so he can lick his thumb and press it against the spasming ring of muscle,
"If she keeps winking at me like this, I'll have to fuck her too." Growled in your ear while you whine in disgust, as if you don't have a pretty little collection of plugs in the back of your dresser already.
You and Simon just loved pretending like you were being corrupted by him.
â§Â°. âđšâ°đşâ. °â§
Buy my cat a treat? (â˘Ë â˘ă.á
Might change my divider, and way of colouring text. I dunno guys. Anyway hiiiii lol please don't sound me for not posting until now. Can women be sounded? God I hope not.
t141 + kĂśnig and their reaction to sleeping on the couch after an argument
âprice
when you banish him to the couch, he could be one of two waysâmature and forces you to talk it out nicely or toxic, flat out refuses, and fucks you back to your senses.
the first way, when the words spill from your mouth, his shoulders slumped with dejection as he steps from the room. no point in arguing when you're worked up. after stewing in your anger for thirty or so minutes, he returnsâarmed with foodâand talks it out with you.
the other way, he flat out refuses to sleep on the couch. i could see him manipulating you with the "I paid for that bed, and I'll sleep in it." you're stubborn, muttering something about you sleeping on the couch then, which is how you end up getting your brains fucked out.
âsoap
I imagine soap just pushed your buttons way too much that day. you know how he is sometimesâover the top, hyper, and an all-around instigator. he was looking for a reaction, and he found itâjust not the one he wanted.
immediately pouts, acting like a dejected child before he goes on to try and convince you to change your mind. real annoying about it too, doesn't give up until you're at your breaking point.
âkyle
the only one that I see actually accept his banishment with stride. he knows he made you upset, respects the boundary you placed with him and doesn't take it to heart. there's also a big possibility that, by the end of the night, you end up talking it out anyways like mature adults.
he knows you needed to get it out of your system, and you serving punishment to him did just that.
âsimon
the second the words leave your mouth, he shuts down. you see the moment he deflates, doesn't try to reconcile, and just accepts it. he doesn't want to upset you further or make you more mad than you already are. simon doesn't respond well to domestic conflict.
the second his back hits the cushions? he's tossing and turning. he barely fits the couch to begin with, and you both learn you need each other to sleepâbonded like a pair of cats.
âkĂśnig
he's not fitting on the couch, and that's what makes it more satisfying. maybe he was being too persistent about his horniness, hands wandering too far until you snapped and threw your finger to the couch you know he can't fit.
he whines about it for sure, trying to whip you with puppy eyes and convince you to change your mind. he apologizes until you're sick of hearing it, allowing him back in bed just to get him to shut up.
Fugitive! Captain John Price x [REDACTED]'s Daughter!Reader
In which youâre learning some things about Price⌠Just not his name. But learning some things is better than learning nothing at all.
Character(s): Price, fem!Reader
content(s): Price is referred to as "Bear" (just in case there's any confusion, Bear=Price here), Reader and Price kinda getting to know each other
Word Count: 1,647
Prologue
Chapter One
MDNI! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked!
Since he still refused to give you a name, you started calling the stranger "Bear" in your head. It was partially because of the way he carried himself, how he lumbered around with his broad shoulders and a constant look in his eyes as if he was on a constant watch for threats. His hands were big enough to pass as bear paws too, and you could only assume that he could cause some damage with them if he wanted. But it was also because of the beard that covered the lower half of his face. It was a bit more wild the third time he visited, and you finally noticed the light gray that peppered it.
And thankfully, over the course of the next few visits, you both opened up... Not as much as you wanted to, but enough.
During the third visit, over chicken tikka masala with basmati rice, you decided to give him your theory.
"I think you're a biker," you said, watching as Bear's eyes went up a bit. That seemingly permanent glare in his eyes changed to something more light. "Or a lumberjack... Or both. I guess it's just the vibe you have."
"A biker or lumberjack...?" He repeated as he stabbed another piece of chicken on his plate. "Hate to disappoint, but you're wrong about both."
"Damn... Irish mob boss, then?" You asked, and felt a stab of victory as the man clearly tried to hide his laugh by taking another bite. "But I don't think your accent is Irish... Is it?"
"No. Not a mob boss... I'm not anything anymore." He hesitated for a moment before he decided to give you a breadcrumb. "Just a man on the run."
So he's a fugitive? You tried to keep a poker face and nodded, seeing if he'd continue.
"Anyone with a title is after me," he muttered as he gathered the last of his food onto his fork. "Am I scaring you yet?"
"No, not really..." You watched him as he finished his food, propped your elbow on the table so you could rest your cheek against the heel of your hand.
Another visit and he needed to wash up. So, you excitedly dragged him into the bathroom to show him what you bought.
"So, you're on the run, and you can't have a strong scent following you around, right?" You asked, not waiting for a response. "Right, so I found this during my last trip into the town."
Proudly, you showed off the unscented shampoo, body wash, and soap. And you did the same with the toothpaste, mouthwash, and showed him the brand new toothbrush you got for him.
"There's unscented laundry detergent too, how cool is that? It works just as well, and the townies don't suspect a thing. Told them I just wanted to try something new, nothing suspicious about it."
Bear was silent the whole time, nodding along until the last part. His thick eyebrows furrowed and he looked at you quizzically.
"Suspicious...?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah..." You trailed off as you put a washcloth onto the bar in the shower. "So, the whole town that way," you vaguely gestured in the direction of the town, "kinda knows to keep an eye on me. I'm not in trouble, not on the run, and they leave me alone up here. But it's a small town and they know me... Just a bunch of nosy people."
It was hard to explain every little thing, and you didn't dare to go into specifics. Thankfully, he just nodded and relaxed again.
"I don't suggest you go into that town, by the way." You added before leaving him alone in the bathroom. "They're gossipy, don't take kindly to newcomers... Wouldn't want you getting in trouble because of them."
You ended up buying a bunch of men's clothes while in the town, too. Thankfully, the cashier was a kid who clearly just wanted his shift to end, one of the younger members of the town who didn't care as much as the others. When you tried to explain it was for a style change, he just looked at you with a bored look and nodded.
And when you presented the clothes to Bear, he was a little amused that you got pretty damn close to his size.
"Dark, easy to move in..." He inspected each and every article of clothing, but he paused when he got to a drab green baseball cap. There was a beat of silence and his blue eyes darkened as he lowered his head a bit.
"Was the hat too much...?" You asked when he was quiet for a moment. The way he looked at the hat... It was as if he was deep in thought, or deep in a memory.
"Oh. Uh..." After blinking rapidly and setting the hat aside, he finally looked over at you. "No. It's fine, could use it to hide my face. I actually used to wear a hat all the time, just not like this one."
"No...?"
A ghost of a smile graced his features, his eyes crinkled slightly. "It was a boonie hat, wore it all the time." Then, he added in a voice that you almost didn't catch, "I miss it, but it's not part of who I am now."
On the fifth or sixth visit, Bear wandered the living room and eyed the paintings on the walls. You were in the middle of putting some dishes away when you caught him.
"Like what you see? That town has some local artists... Real talented ones, too." You were ready to launch into how you took up painting for a while, one of the many hobbies you collected during your years in the cabin.
But before you could, Bear wandered into the kitchen and looked curious... Maybe a little suspicious. "No family...?"
Oh. Right. As a 'just in case', an extra precaution, your father and everyone who checked on you emphasized that you shouldn't keep any personal family photos around.
"Decorate however you want, sweet pea," your father's voice echoed in your head even now. "But keep those photos in albums. Keep 'em in a real safe spot."
"Miss?"
His voice brought you back to the present day, and you leaned against the kitchen counter to face him. Smiling tightly, you shook your head.
"No... Not really." You admitted, and it wasn't exactly a lie. No mother, no siblings, and now... No father. "But that's fine, I prefer the paintings anyway."
He didn't comment, just nodded solemnly. Bear had his secrets, and you had yours... And that was fine. He trusted you enough to not push you.
With each visit, his hair and beard grew wilder. You never commented, but you did buy a shaving kit just in case. That one was a little harder to explain away, but you managed to do it.
You felt better about his visits now, especially since he was starting to trust you a bit more. And you trusted him, enough to not flinch when he let himself inside while you were listening to some music through an old radio.
"Smells bloody amazing in here, love," he said, and you felt your heart jump into your throat.
Love. He's British, it's just a thing that they say... Right? Right, don't overthink it.
But he wasn't wrong, the savory scent of the roast in the slow cooker filled the whole cabin. It was cooking for almost eight hours, just about ready to serve. With a big smile, you followed his voice all the way to the living room... And the smile faltered for a moment when you saw his right hand. Bandaged up, half-hidden by his sleeve but you could see it.
"Jesus man, what happened...?" You asked, trying to see if the bandages were bloodied. Thankfully, they seemed clean.
"Ah, it's fine," he said, waving his good hand dismissively. "Nothin'. Just had to get it stitched up after an incident... Stupid accident, still got all my fingers... Just hurts like hell."
Who stitched him this time? But you didn't ask, just gave a concerned look. "When'd it happen?"
"A couple of days ago... More than a couple." Bear leaned his hip on the couch and brought his good hand up so he could run his fingers through his hair. He scowled and shook his head a bit. "Worst part about being on the run... No barbers."
You perked up, remembering the kit that you bought. "I can help you with that." The words came out faster than you wanted them to. "Actually, I have a kit... There's trimmers, electric and manual... Scissors..."
His beard moved as he frowned, a guarded expression fell over his face and his blue eyes hardened. Uh oh. No, no please. Was this too far? If this was too far, he would go back to not trusting you... You didn't want to think about it.
"Listen, your hand is messed up, otherwise I'd just let you do it on your own," you said, gesturing to the bathroom. "The roast is almost done, I can get your hair and beard trimmed just in time... And don't even worry about your hair being all over the place, no DNA to worry about, I could throw the clippings into some bleach or something."
Thankfully, he didn't interrupt as you explained. No interjections, no protests or outright denial... His free hand just rubbed his overgrown beard thoughtfully while he listened. After letting out a long sigh and shifting away from the couch, Bear nodded.
"... Yeah, I'd appreciate that a lot, actually..." He muttered, making his way to the bathroom.
Your heart leapt, beating faster as you grabbed a chair for him to sit in. He trusted you not to go full Sweeney Todd on him, and that made you pretty happy.
Thinking about Werewolf!Soap, who has a very strict protocol for full moons thanks to his pack. He always followed whatever rules Alpha Price laid down, stayed close enough to hear their howls and keep track of their scents. His favorite spot during full moons will always be running right by Ghost's side.
Maybe he doesn't know the paths by heart the same way that Ghost does, and he hasn't quite figured out where to go just in case something were to happen (he was NOT listening to that lecture). But so far, every full moon with 141 has gone smoothly, even with the occasional spat with other werewolves, like the Shadow pack.
But after a run in with an aggressive pack and getting injured, Soap lost track of his pack. Their scents were mingled with those of the rival pack and blood of both... And then it was washed away completely as the skies opened up into a total downpour. Thunder and the pouring rain masked any howls or calls as the confused werewolf careened into trees and staggered here and there, limping his way out of the woods somehow.
After Soap stumbled out of the woods, he took a few more painful steps and let out a mournful howl that ended in a whimper before collapsing onto soft grass.
Meanwhile, you couldn't sleep at all. Just a normal human being kept awake by normal human problems... And the sound of an animal in your backyard. Did your neighbor's dog get out? By the sounds of it, maybe the neighbor's dog was getting mauled. Knowing you'd feel like shit if the latter were true, you went outside to check.
But instead of a normal dog, there was the weirdest looking canine you'd ever seen laying in your backyard. Too big to be any dog you'd seen before, and bulkier than a coyote... A wolf, then? It had to be a wolf. But something about it was all wrong. Its paws looked longer than normal, it had a weird hunch to its back, and the face was... wait did it have a mohawk?
But your eyes were drawn to the red that stained the grass. It's pitiful blue eyes looked up at you, and no matter how weird it looked... You wanted to help it. Maybe it looked like... that... because it was hit by a car.
Vet'll be open at 6 am tomorrow, you thought as you led the beast inside, letting it lean against you for support. I'll take it in, see what they can do.
With the help of a YouTube video and whatever medical knowledge you had already, you managed to bandage the weird dog thing and stop the bleeding. It growled at you, bared it teeth a bit, but let you do what you had to. By the time you were finished, it just looked tired.
"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done," you muttered as you hand fed the mess of light brown and white fur some leftover steak. But then it wagged its tail and you felt no regrets.
You'd just have to find a way to get it into your car, unless vets did house calls... Either way, you set your alarm for 6 am after making a makeshift bed for the "dog" at the foot of your bed and looked at the current time before passing out.
An alarm went off, too loud and devastating to Soap's already pounding head. With memories from last night barely visible behind the post-shift haze, he sat up. A dull ache spread through his left side and he groaned.
Steamin' Jesus... Where am I?
It smelled nothing like the pack house or the woods. Just the faint smell of something, like fresh laundry mixed with something else. Something softer and alive... Human.
The memories started to trickle back as he stood up from the mess of blankets on the floor. The ones he was just curled up on at an awkward angle. There was an actual bed in the room, and the reason why he wasn't the one occupying it became very clear... Because there you were, shutting off the alarm on your phone. Barely awake yourself. A human.
I'm in a stranger's house. A stranger that helped me... One that thinks I'm a bloody dog, probably.
"What-- Who the fuck are you!?"
Soap moved fast, quickly bending down to grab a plush throw blanket. He wrapped it around his hips and took a step away from the foot of the bed.
"Stop yelling, I can explain everything," he said quickly, before you could screech anything else at him. "Just take comfort in knowin' ye don't have to pay any vet bills."
Since youâve all been so worried about Simonâs (and little Simonâs) well-being, I just wanted to reassure you that Johnny is taking very good care of them. Simonâs relief is immediately apparent!
You can find the uncropped image on Bsky or X.
đŹ 23  đ 143  â¤ď¸ 1280 ¡ Sun-annihilated kissed
The concept of old man price who grew up with don't ask don't tell trying to be supportive of his new young secretary....
He has no idea what the mini flags in your pencil holder mean, only recognizes the rainbow one. Price tried to stay away from that sort of stuff, only way to stay alive, and now all his information comes to him through osmosis of talking with the sergeants.
Which is how you come into the office one day to find a small box on your desk, no note or anything. Price had told you he'd left you "something for the constitution, eh?" When you passed him in the hall. Could this be it?
You open the box andâ
"PRoud of wHo you Are!"
A small cake, decorated with rainbow frosting, the words look messy and done in a gel icing you one might buy separately. The image of price being too embarrassed to ask the workers to add words because he wasn't sure what to say comes to mind, followed quickly by him bent over the cake piping on messy lines.
It's horribly tacky. It's the nicest thing anyone on base has done for you.
You're not exactly quiet about who you are, and that decision can be felt everyday withe the way your coworkers act. So this? Now?
You close your door so no one can see you crying while you eat a slice.
he felt bad, I think? idk just let Simon spoil you
MDNI! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked!
Part One
Word Count: 2,070
contents: fem afab reader,Ghost is considerably less of a dickhead in this one (no destruction of property), Ghost spoils Reader, fluff
For some godforsaken reason, you decided to take Ghost up on his offer. It was less of an offer and more of an order, but still. The lieutenant broke into your house and ruined all of your heels, and maybe you should've reported him to Price or someone even higher up for that. But now he was offering to not only buy you new heels, but an entire security system and state of the art locks for your doors and windows.Â
When you went outside, you expected him to be waiting for you in his mask still. For some reason, it was hard to imagine him without his iconic skull mask hiding the upper part of his face, or his balaclava which showed his eyes off a bit better but nothing else. So when you opened the door to the black Range Rover with windows so tinted that you couldnât see inside, you almost slammed the door shut. Sitting behind the wheel was a rugged looking man with sandy blond hair. Scars covered his face, but they didnât take away from how handsome he was. If the man hadnât spoken up and broken the spell (and relieved the slight fear that you just opened a random car door), you wouldnât have realized who it was.
âYou just gonna stand there?â Ghost asked, staring at you. âYou forget how to get in a car, do you need me to come out and help you, princess?â
With a scowl, you got inside and buckled up. Setting your little clutch bag in your lap, you shot him a look⌠One that you hoped looked like a glare and not like you were gawking. âWell sorry, I wasnât sure I had the right car.â
âWhat? Didnât think Iâd be a big, ugly bastard?â He asked as he drove out of the parking area, work worn hands gripping the wheel. âSorry to disappoint.â
âWhat? I- no, I just didnât⌠Youâre just⌠Uh,â you sputtered before settling on saying, âI didnât think youâd be blond.â Well⌠It was better than saying something that would give him a big head.Â
Ghost only responded with a stifled laugh as he drove. The sound of a rock song hummed through his speakers, the low radio was the only soundtrack to the trip. The scent of the car was almost as distracting as his face being on display. It smelled like leather, smoke, and something that you could only describe as masculine. This was going to be the weirdest shopping trip of your life.
You two went into the shoe store first, not the one you usually go to but a more high end one. The whole outlet mall was full of high end stores, actually⌠You heard of this place before but never went since everything was an absolutely insane price. Out of habit, you looked at the price tags, each one dealing psychic damage. These heels are nice, but $900?Â
Ghost just rolled his eyes and told you not to worry. He reminded you that heâs paying, even for the heels youâre not wearing at the base ever again. After a bit more hesitation, you started trying some on and really picking out heels and flats alike. Once you had three new pairs of heels and three new flats, Ghost led you to the checkout and paid⌠He didnât even flinch at the unholy price that everything came to.Â
You almost told him that was enough, no need for more, he didnât have to spend more money on you. But he was already leading you out to the next store with a hand on your lower back, straight to a top of the line tech store. One with the best security systems on the market and locks that would require a code.Â
âAre these the ones we use on base?â You asked after reading the familiar brand name.
âThe same exact ones,â Ghost confirmed gruffly. âCanât have someone breaking into your place.â
âAgain.â You hissed before picking everything out.Â
He paid for that too, and you were once again horrified at the price. Youâd be having nightmares about those numbers⌠But that was it. He did what he promised to do, and you could go home now. Ghost opened up the passengerâs side for you and helped you inside before putting your shiny, new, overpriced things in the backseat. You tried to relax, but you knew this couldnât be free. Right? Ghost could be a right bastard if he wanted to be. This was something he could hold over your headâŚÂ
âSo, how much?â
Ghost was going to turn his music up, but stopped at your words. He side-eyed you as he began to drive. âYou need to work on using full sentences, princess. What are you talking about?â
âHow much do I owe you?â You asked, emphasising each word. âOr do you want me to bring you your coffee from now on, or do your laundry⌠What is it?â In your mind, you felt like there had to be a catch.Â
âYou donât owe a damn cent,â he said gruffly, taking the fastest route to your place. âand how about this? Just donât wear any more heels at the base. Thatâs it.â
âYou canât be seriousâŚâ
âAs a heart attack,â Ghost mused, tapping his fingers on the wheel. âAnd you have to let me install everything. Not that I donât trust you with it butâŚâ He trailed off and laughed quietly. âWellâŚâ
âHey! I can read instructions, assholeâŚâ You grumbled and glared at his profile⌠You wanted to smack the stupid smile off his face. âOkay, fine, install the shit. But Iâm making you dinner.â
âYou wot?â
âDinner. I donât feel right letting you pay for all that shitâŚâ You admitted begrudgingly. âYou install, I cook. No buts.â
He glanced over, eyes locked with yours. You werenât sure if he wanted to laugh or say no or what was going on in his head. But he settled on a curt nod before looking back at the road ahead. âFine.â
After making it to your place, Ghost got to work and so did you. After changing out of your blouse and pencil skirt from earlier, you got into a more comfortable outfit and started chopping and slicing to prepare the dinner you had in mind. You were planning on making it chicken vodka pasta anyway, and it was a perfect way to thank Ghost. Maybe a nice incentive for him to not hold this over your head⌠Which he apparently wasnât going to do, but how much do you really trust him? Same bastard that broke in and then broke your heels.
You had your music on as you cooked, the occasional sound reminded you that Ghost was somewhere in the house. The food smelled and looked amazing so far, if you did say so yourself. It was just about done and you were dying to have some. Itâs been hours since your lunch and you were pretty sure that your stomach would start eating itself if you didnât eat soon. You leaned forward slightly, pouring a glass of wine when the sound of a throat being cleared caught your attention.Â
ââS all set up for you,â Ghost said from the entrance to the kitchen. âSo now nobodyâll break in. Not even me.â
You werenât sure how long he was standing there, but you didnât even hear him coming. How could such a big guy move so goddamn quietly?
âSomething tells me youâd still find a way if you really wanted to.â You teased. âAnd you have good timing, dinnerâs ready.âÂ
You grabbed two plates, turning to set them on the table when you finally looked at Ghost. You barely registered the intense way he was looking at you when you noticed that his hoodie was gone. There was only a tight, black shirt straining across his chest now, the sleeves hugging his biceps. And his arms⌠They were dusted in light blond hair and corded with muscle and veins, with ink covering his pale skin. Complex designs that you couldnât quite make out, though one looked suspiciously like his own maskâŚ
âSmells bloody amazing,â Ghost commented, helping set the table by taking the plates and grabbing cutlery from the drawer. âCanât remember the last time I had a home cooked meal.â
You were snapped out of whatever trance his body put you into. Pull yourself together, woman.
âWell, I figured youâd be hungry after installing everything soâŚâ You set the glasses of wine down before plating the food. âHope it tastes as good as it smells, honestly. I havenât made this in a while.âÂ
âOnly one way to find out,â Ghost said as you both sat down. He speared some pasta and chicken with his fork and brought it to his lips, a sound of surprise and satisfaction escaped him when he finally tasted it.Â
You tried it too and realized the reason for his pleased sound, the same reason for why he shoveled another bite into his mouth. It tasted fucking phenominal. You really outdid yourself, even after you worried about not adding enough spice, or maybe too much of one and not the other.Â
âNot bad, eh?â You asked after swallowing a second bite.
âNot bad? Fuck me, this is the best thing Iâve âad in a while,â he said, the look on his face being one of appreciation and contentment. âReally, youâre a bloody amazing cook, love.â
Your cheeks heated at the complement, not being used to the praise. Even at work, the guys thanked you and gave some offhand compliments about your appearance, but never really praised you for what you do. A quick âthank youâ slipped out before you went back to working on cleaning your plate⌠It only took a quick look to see that Ghost already finished his and was actually piling more onto his plate.Â
Ghost ended up cleaning his plate two more times, and when you went to load the dishwasher he tried to help. You swatted his hand like a disgruntled cat and shook your head.
âNuh-uh. You did enough, Ghost. Seriously, thank you.â You said, filling the dishwasher before starting it. âI mean it. Even though this whole thing started because you broke in.â
Ghost chuckled and his eyes crinkled at the corners, clearly amused. âNever gonna let that go, are you?â He asked, watching you as you leaned back against the counter. âAnd for the record, I think you and your clumsy arse started it. Those bloody heels were dreadful, I was doing you a favor.â
âUgh, shut your mouth, Ghostââ
âSimon.â He cut in suddenly, and he almost seemed surprised at his own interruption. Simon swallowed and rubbed the back of his head, glancing away from you for a moment. âOutside of the base, just call me Simon. Not âGhostâ or âLieutenant Rileyâ... Alright?â
You nodded, letting silence stretch between you two before speaking again. âAlright.âÂ
âIt only makes sense, yeah? No need for my bloody call sign or rank to be used outside of that shitshow.â Ghost said as he took a glance down at his phone.Â
âFair enough,â you agreed with a smile.Â
âWell⌠I should get going,â Simon said, and you swore you saw his shoulders slumping. âSee you tomorrow, bird?â
âTomorrow, and Iâll make sure to wear the highest heels we got today.â You said, trying to keep a straight face.
âWatch it,â Simon warned, though you could hear the smile in his voice as he grabbed his hoodie. âIâm dead serious about making you walk âround barefoot if you do it again.â
âTerrifying.â You deadpanned as you followed him to the door. âDrive safe and see you tomorrow⌠Goodnight, Simon.â
You couldâve swore that Simon slowed as he stepped out of the house, as if the sound of his name passing your lips for the first time had an effect on him. But he just nodded and returned the goodnight before driving off.Â
. . .
The rest of the drive home, Simon was white knuckling the wheel. It was bad enough that you looked stunning, that you cooked for him, that he actually enjoyed the banter between the two of you⌠But the way his name sounds coming from your lips? He shouldâve asked you to call him Simon sooner. Or maybe he shouldâve messed with your heels sooner.Â
