The Crow & The Ghost: A Dystopian AU Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Chapter Seven: Hate or Love, Fury or Desire

You walk into your office early next morning with your hands shaking.
  Despite Riley's asshole comment, you hadn't slept at all. You had lain awake, replaying the experience with Soap and Riley in your mind over and over again. Soap's mouth on your pussy, Riley's eyes watching your every move, the way Riley's cock felt in your—
  You let out a yell of surprise when you see Kieran sitting in front of your desk, the lights off, two coffees in hand. Your yell makes him jump, and the coffees nearly fly out his hands.
  "Jesus!" Kieran shouts, moving his body in spectacularly ridiculous angles to make sure the coffee doesn't spill. When he saves himself and manages to sit back up straight, he looks up at you, incredulous.
  You give him a meek smile and reach a hand towards him, trying your hardest not to let your fingers tremble right in his face. "Thank you," You say, but your voice is weak, uneven. You wince.
  Kieran's face goes from surprised-confused to suspicious-confused in approximately two seconds flat. He narrows his eyes as he reaches his own hand out, meeting you halfway to give you your coffee. You practically snatch it out of his hands, hoping that if you down it fast enough you can blame your anxious trembles on the caffeine. You immediately take a long sip.
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Kieran asks.
  And, god dammit, you can't help it—you burst out laughing, nearly choking on the coffee you just swallowed.
  The sudden sound makes Kieran flinch again, and this time a splotch of coffee flies out of his cup and onto his shirt. Luckily, his shirt is black, but you both gasp at the same time, your own humor disappearing in a flash.
  "I am so sorry," You say. You've been at work for approximately three minutes and you've already fucked up more than you have in the last three months.
  "O-kay," Kieran says, rubbing a thumb into his shirt and then hissing when he feels how hot it is. He gives up and throws a death glare at you before pointing to your own chair. "Sit down, right now, and prepare yourself to be real with me."
  You grimace and go to sit down in your chair, placing your coffee on the desk in front of you. You meet Kieran's eyes and see he's staring at you intensely.
  "I like to think that we're friends, Crow," He says.
  Your eyebrows shoot upwards. "You're my best friend, Kieran."
  "Then why," Kieran throws a hand up into the air. "Are you keeping shit from me? First I hear that Ghost was in your apartment from some off-hand comment Soap made. You don't explain it. I let it go, trying to give you space.
"But then you go out on a mission with him," He places his elbow on your desk and points his index figure at you. "And you still don't say shit about it. But I give you space, thinking you'll tell me at lunch. Over text. Something. But since then, you've been acting like a fucking spooked horse at the stupid bitch stable. Now, you come in here with your shaky ass hands and weird attitude. You, who's never been nervous or insecure or weird a day in your life."
"You didn't know me as a teenager."
"Don't deflect." Kieran snaps. You've never heard him be so firm with you. He sits back in his chair, propping his boots on your desk. "So I ask you, as a friend," He brings the coffee cup to his lips. "To tell me what the fuck is going on. Now."
You bite your lip. You can't tell him what happened yesterday. You can't. You aren't ashamed, but it's—it's yours. It's yours and Soap's and Riley's. You want to keep it to yourself, a secret that will haunt you in the best possible way. Maybe you can tell Kieran someday but not yet. Not when it's so fresh.
But you have to say something, or risk losing Kieran's trust. You can't risk that, not at all.
"There's been," You look at your desk. "Tension. Between Riley and I."
"Tension?"
"Of a... personal nature." You relent.
Kieran brings his coffee to his lips again, his brows twitching upwards as he cocks his head to the side. He smirks before he takes a sip, white teeth glinting, smiling at something that's crossed his mind. "I could have told you that."
You make a face. "How could you have told me that? You were around us one time, and we were fighting." You think back to the other day at lunch, when Riley sat with you, Kieran, and Soap, but the man didn't eat a thing. He refuses to eat around people because of the damn mask. But he barged in on your meal and started talking about Vampire Alley, immediately irritating you. It's my hour off, you had told him. I don't give a fuck what time it is, he had replied.
"The emotions of love and hate run very closely to each other in the brain," Kieran says. "I could definitely see you two hate-fucking."
Buddy, you have no idea.
But you let out an incredulous snort instead, like that's the stupidest thing you've ever heard. "Don't be ridiculous. Riley is hot, yes, but I'm going to get a grip. I swear. Don't look at me like that. I'm just... adjusting to working with a man that's not you."
Kieran scowls. "Is that you saying that I'm not hot?"
"Would I have a chance with you if I did?"
"You got a penis I don't know about?"
You shoot him a glare. "Are you happy with my answer now? Are you confident in the sanctity of our friendship?"
Kieran frowns, shrugs. "Could be better, could be worse."
"Kieran—"
"I'm joking, Crow," He whines. "He's made your humor go down the shitter, too, huh?"
You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. "I've been working with him for less than a week."
"And look at the number he's done on you already," Kieran uses one hand to motion towards you. "By the end of the month he's going to have you on a leash."
"Oh, I think it'll be quite the opposite," A voice says. You and Kieran both jump, seeing Lieutenant Riley has appeared in the doorway. How you missed his hulking figure step into view is beyond you, but your hands are shaking again.
Must be the caffeine.
"I can't fucking take another jump scare today," Kieran mutters, and you see that he's spilled even more coffee on himself.
"Good morning, Captain Corr," Riley says, sounding more pleasant than you've ever heard him. He nods at the half-empty coffee cup. "Want me to buy you another?"
Where did this nice guy come from, and why have I never met him?
"Oh," Kieran wipes his shirt again, but to no avail. He begins shaking his head vigorously. "Oh, that's—that's fine. Thanks, Lieutenant. Should I," He looks between you and Riley. "Should I leave? Do you have a meeting?"
Whatever tough guy act Kieran had put on a moment ago, it had fallen like glass to the floor—shattering completely. You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.
"We do," Riley replies. Your eyes flick to him. You forgot he had said 8 a.m. sharp yesterday. Your mind had been preoccupied on... other details.
"Oh, you can stay," You say, looking at Kieran again, pushing the flashback of Riley's veiny cock out of your mind. "But only if you want to see the Lieutenant turn into a gigantic asshole. That's the only version of him I get."
"It's the only version you've been deserving of," Riley shoots back, but his voice is calm, cool, collected.
Kieran lets out a whistle. "Well. You two are fucking awkward together," He starts to stand up. "Hostile work environment and all. A real HR nightmare."
Buddy, you really have no idea.
"Always a pleasure, Corr," Riley says, stepping into the office so Kieran can step out. He puts a hand on the door knob.
Kieran makes it to the doorway before turning around to face you. "I expect a text from you later. I miss you."
You roll your eyes, but you can't help your smile. "Yes, daddy dearest."
"Ooo," Kieran furrows his brow and puckers his mouth into an o-shape, pointing at you as he walks out."I think I like that. Don't say it again."
You hear Riley laugh—laugh—to himself as he shuts the door and sits down where Kieran was only a moment ago. "He's a funny fuck, isn't he?" He rasps.
You scowl. "Don't try to get all buddy buddy with my friends." You say, knowing it's immature, unfair, and stupid. You don't care. This man has made a mess of you and you feel entitled to owning it.
"Oh, come off it," Riley says, his hooded eyes meeting yours. "It's all in the family."
"You watch your family members fuck, too?"
"Jesus," Riley snickers. "It's that kind of day, is it?"
"Yeah, it's usually that kind of day when someone calls you a selfish slut."
Riley bats a hand in the air, dismissing you. "Let's not do all that right now."
"Oh right," You give him a close lipped, ironic caricature of a smile. "It's work time now. Silly me."
"Yes," Riley agrees. "You're pretty fucking silly. More importantly: I have some leads on Meara O'Sullivan."
This takes you by surprise. "What? We haven't done anything since we went to Vampire Alley two days ago."
"Since you went to Vampire Alley two days ago," Riley corrected. "While you've been doing fuck all, I've been working."
Is this fucker for real? You want to smash your coffee cup on his head, burning liquid and all. "Doing 'fuck all'? You mean doing your job?"
Riley narrows his eyes at you. "My job? How do you figure?"
"The elementary school? The Undead parents I had to shoot in the fucking street? That was supposed to be your call. You left Soap hanging!"
"We all respond to calls, Crow," Riley corrects. "Soap is allowed to do things without me, and other Defense members are allowed to respond to things with him. That happened to be you, yesterday."
"Yes, but where were you?" You demand. "Where were you yesterday, and the day before?"
"Working on our case!" Riley snaps. "I just told you that."
"Without me?" You exclaim. "What kind of fucking partnership is that? And now what? You've gained intel without me? Do you think I'm so useless? How dare you say I've done 'fuck all' when you aren't even communicating with me?"
"I shouldn't have said that." Riley concedes, albeit angrily, which takes you by surprise. "You're right." That surprises you even more.
"But if you must know," He continues. "I went back to Vampire Alley without you so you could have a fucking break," He leans forward in his chair. "I had to go back to those clubs while the information was still fresh."
You furrow your brow in aggravation. "So what? Who are you to decide when I need a break?" You hear your voice rising but you don't care—you can't stand this man. You can't stand how controlling and withholding he is, how he gives you the world, lets you in, and then snatches it all away like it's nothing—
"Since I saw you full-on panic before my eyes!" Riley practically yells. His eyes are on fire, furious.
"And now I'm fine!" You throw your hands in the air. "It was once and I'm fine! Don't make decisions for me!"
You're both leaning towards each other now, your anger like a living thing in the room with you, its tail whipping and fire sparking to life in its belly, ready to set the world ablaze at any moment.
"I didn't want to set you off again, is that so wrong?" Riley exclaims. "Is it so wrong that I care for your mental well-being, partner?" He spits the word out like it's poison. "That I wanted to give you some time before you had to go back there?"
"Oh, shut up," You seethe, your words laced with venom. "If you cared about my mental well-being so much, you wouldn't have had Soap fuck me after a traumatic incident."
"Don't fucking go there, Crow," Riley growls, pointing a finger at you. You are very tired of men pointing at you. You swat his finger away, which makes him grab your hand and smack it down onto the desk. You try to pull away, but his hold is firm. "You wanted it just as much as me," He hisses. "Don't paint me the bad guy."
"You are the bad guy, no illustration required." You hiss. You feel his hold loosen just a little bit and you snatch your hand away, your breath heavy and rapid.
He takes his own hand back and sits into his chair. As vibrant and horrible the anger in the room was a moment ago, it's now filled by a hollow, empty silence, the beast slain by your own venom. All the fire in Riley's eyes is gone, replaced by a coldness you don't recognize.
"Riley," You say, your voice soft. "I—"
"Is that what you think of me?" He asks, his own voice dangerously low.
You aren't sure how to answer, so you don't. You only look away.
Then, after a moment: "I think we've both said things we don't mean."
"Do you really feel as though I coerced you yesterday?" Riley asks, and you look up. His eyes are pleading, serious. As though this is very concerning to him.
You close your eyes for a few seconds. "No," You say. "No, I don't."
You hear him let out a sigh.
  "You just..." You pause, trying to find the words. You open your eyes again, and look at him plainly. "My job is important to me, Riley. In a lot of ways it's all I have. Don't short me on it because you think you know my limits better than I do."
  Riley looks down at the floor, his hooded eyes almost completely shielded from you. "It's all I have, too—this job."
  You suddenly think of the man who sat with you on the curb in Vampire Alley, his hand on your back.
  What things have you seen, Ghost? Why do they call you that?
You think of the last time this man was in your office, his eyes filled with a sorrow you can't fully grasp.
Do you hate it as much as I do, Lieutenant Riley?
I do, little Crow. I do hate it. But not in the way you think.
  You close your eyes and lean to one side, propping your elbow on the armrest of your chair as you begin to rub your forehead with the pads of your fingers.
"The shit with the Undead parents yesterday was upsetting, but not traumatizing." You admit. "I've seen worse than that before. I used a strong word to make you feel bad. I'm sorry."
  Riley grunts. You don't bother to look and see what emotion in his eyes hold. You don't really want to know.
  "I found out Meara spends a good majority of her days at Red Rider," Riley says, his voice quiet. You stop rubbing your forehead but don't look up. "I went back multiple times, visited the other clubs, too. Kept to myself, of course. I think she's not a prostitute anymore, but rather owns all of them. They all seem to report to her, or follow her lead. I don't know what it means for a civil war—"
  You drop your arm and finally look at Riley. He's looking at his hands, both of his palms splayed in his lap, moving them a few inches every couple of seconds, like he's reading the creases.
  "There's not going to be a civil war," You say. "The Undead aren't capable of that."
  "We also thought they weren't capable of giving a shit about their children," Riley raises one of his hands and flips it over, now studying the back of it. "But it appears we were wrong."
  "We don't know if that was their motive for being at the school." You reply. "They may have been lying, thinking we'd let them stick around."
  "Regardless," He drops the hand he was studying onto his lap and moves on to the other one. "They're acting out of turn. Something's not right."
  You couldn't argue that.
  Riley drops the second hand and looks at you, his eyes unreadable. "And now they've gotten access to fucking firearms."
  Your stomach twists at the memory of this, the memory of the Undead woman pulling a handgun out of nowhere. It doesn't make sense. The Undead were denied a lot of rights that they used to have when they were humans—voting, home ownership, the right to exist anywhere beyond the specific confines that were allowed for them. They were definitely not allowed firearms. They weren't even allowed to drive.
  "A human is supplying them," You realize out loud. "But why?"
  "I don't fucking know." Riley replies, the tone harsh. You can tell it's not directed at you, but rather a general frustration. "I don't know if it's related back to Meara."
  "It has to be, somehow," You say. "The timing is too coincidental." You have no idea how the girl you once knew could be spearheading a civil war amongst the Undead population, but you did not recognize the rotting woman fucking a bunch of bodies on the platform. Meara could be capable of just about anything, now.
  "I know." Riley sighs. "I just don't know where to go next."
  "I think we need to focus on the weaponry, and who's supplying it to them," You say. "That's the most dangerous thing—"
  You're interrupted by two sharp knocks on the door.
You and Riley both glance at each other. After a moment, you nod at him. He stands up and opens the door, his body blocking your view.
A protective stance, you realize.
  "Lieutenant Cr—oh," A feminine voice says from the doorway. "Lieutenant Ghost—I mean, Riley. Lieutenant Riley. Is Lieutenant Crow—"
  "For you, boss," Riley says over his shoulder, stepping to the side to reveal Private Dana Bosh.
  "Hello, Private Bosh," You say, giving the girl a small smile. The black swishes across her eyelids are fresh with the morning. "How can I help you?"
  "Um," The girl looks down for a moment, nervous. You remember she has a crush on Riley, and you glance at him. He's looking at you, his eyes lazy, watching your every move.
  Dana remains quiet. "Time is of the essence, Private," You say. You try to be patient with her, but you hate slow talkers. "Do you need me?"
  "Uh, I had just been wondering," Bosh's voice is small, mousy. "If you needed me for any patrols this weekend?"
  You lift an eyebrow. "Are you scheduled for any with me this weekend?" You couldn't even remember if you were working this weekend. Sometimes you got days off in the middle of the week, or on a Thursday and Friday. The schedule shifted constantly. Most days you showed up and stayed unless someone told you to leave.
  "No," The girl shakes her head. "But I didn't know if you anticipated help, what with the increased presence at all city schools."
  You shrug. "I don't handle the shift schedules. You would have to ask Sergeant Peters, she handles all of that. We all work with whoever's on staff on any given day. Are you going to be working at all?"
  "No," Dana says. She won't look at you. Do you really make her that nervous, or is it Riley?
  "Okay," You say slowly, confused. "I'm not sure why you—"
  "I'm going away this weekend," Dana interrupts, suddenly looking you directly in the eye, her pin straight blonde hair shifting down her shoulders with the jerky movement. "I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't need me. I can't be on call."
  Jesus. "All right, Private." You catch Riley's eye before looking back at Dana. She doesn't notice it, you don't think. "That's fine. Enjoy your vacation." You wouldn't even be in the top twenty of people I'd call in an emergency, anyway.
  Private Bosh looks down again. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
  You consider the conversation finished, but the girl continues to stand there. It takes you a few moments to realize what she's waiting for. "Dismissed, Private." She walks away without another word, her quick footsteps echoing down the hall.
  Riley waits a few seconds before closing the door and sitting back down. "Strange kid," He says, the words lingering with all the judgemental shit you can tell he's leaving unsaid.
  You chuckle, turning towards your computer to log in and check your email. "We get a lot of fucking weirdos in this joint. That's the downside to mandatory service."
  "Most people seem all right to me."
  "To you, golden boy," You say, giving him a pointed look before turning your eyes back to the screen, clicking on the email icon. "Not so much to everyone else. She was actually acting weird just now because she has a crush on you. I think you caught her off guard."
  It's Riley's turn to chuckle. "Does she? I think I've caught you off guard a number of times, but I've never seen you quite like that."
  "Well," You say absently, scanning your unread messages. Most of them are pointless. "That's because I don't have a crush on you."
  "Oh, yeah? You sucking the soul out of my cock yesterday says otherwise."
  Your index finger, which was scrolling on the mouse, freezes. The words on your screen become nonsense. You take a deep breath, holding your composure until you can read again. You swallow, and your index finger resumes scrolling.
  "Sex is just sex. Doesn't mean there's emotion attached to it."
  "No?" Riley's voice has the dreaded playful tone to it. Ah, this email reminder about a seminar that was three days ago looks positively scintillating.
"You mean to say that the phrases 'let me finish you off' and 'come on me, please' meant absolutely nothing?" He tsks. "That hurts my feelings."
  "Cry about it."
  "I have to admit," Riley says. "I might have no choice but to cry the moment I sink my cock into your pussy. Might end up being a religious experience."
  Holy god.
  Yes. I'm the closest you'll ever get.
  Riley suddenly stands up, and you freeze again. But you stay locked in place, you don't take your eyes off your screen. He comes to stand behind you, and you feel the warmth of his hand as it slides down your neck and his fingers come to wrap themselves around the front of your throat. You hear his clothes shift as he bends down, and you feel his mask brush your hair as he hovers next to your ear.
  "I know it's so tight, baby," He whispers. "And I know I'll fit inside of you just right. You'll take my cock like a champ, won't you, pretty girl?" He squeezes the sides of your throat and you close your eyes, breathing deeply.
  I cannot fuck Lieutenant Riley in my office at 8 in the morning, I cannot fuck Lieutenant Riley in my office, I cannot—
"You love pleasing people, don't you?" He rasps, his other hand now sliding down your chest, then gripping your breast. He starts to massage it gently, his fingers pushing and sliding. "You've been such an obedient little bitch for this organization, haven't you? That's why you're a Lieutenant like me. That's why you don't do shit besides work. That's why you and I are the same." He presses his mouth to your ear, his mask the only thing between his skin and yours. "We're both cucks, little Crow."
Your eyes open. You lean your head away to turn and face him, your noses inches apart. His sunken eyes are so dark, glittering with desire. He keeps a hold on your throat and your breast, squeezing both. You stare at each other for a few moments, daring each other to look away.
And then, you lean in and press your mouth to his.
Or, at least what you hope is his mouth. It's hard to tell with the stupid mask in the way. But when you get there, you feel the hotness of his lips, and you know you're on target. You kiss him through the fabric, your tongue pressing.
He kisses you back almost instantly, like he saw it coming from a mile away. You feel his tongue through the mask, feel your lips touching and barely breaking apart. It's the most bizarre thing you've ever experienced and yet you have no desire to pull away. You kiss him like this for a few moments, reveling in his mouth and the feeling of his hands massaging you in all the right places. You start to squirm in your chair, your already throbbing clit begging for friction.
Riley pulls away from a kiss for half a second, just long enough to whisper, "I want you, Crow." He kisses you hard again, then pulls away: "I want that tight pussy." And then he kisses you more.
God, how fucking hot is it to hear that? You nearly reach for the zipper to his pants right then and there, to give him the blowjob he truly deserves, when suddenly, like a flash of lighting in your mind, you remember:
Must be tiring being such a fucking slut.
Ah. Right. You're actually extremely mad at him, still, for being such a dick to you yesterday. How stupid of you to forget.
You're not going to let him fuck you this easily, no fucking way. He told you to earn it, yesterday. But maybe he should earn you instead.
You break the kiss, pulling your head away slightly. Riley's eyes snap open, surprised. He leans forward to kiss you again, but you lean away. His eyes flash with confusion, then irritation. When he leans in once more, your hand flies up to grip his throat, the skin between your index finger and thumb pushing on the spot where his neck meets his jaw. You can feel his Adam's apple. His mask pulls down a little bit, and you see the bridge of his nose, the skin smeared with black kohl.
"Get a hold of yourself, Lieutenant," You say, tilting your head to the side and narrowing your eyes. You give him a wicked smile, the eye contact between you something fierce. "Don't want to tire yourself out from being too much of a little slut."
His eyes blaze with either fury or desire, you aren't sure which. Kieran's line about love and hate flashes in your mind, and it makes you smile ever wider.
You give his throat a little shove and he moves with it effortlessly, darting backwards before standing up straight, recovering quickly. He moves his head downwards so his chin is nearly tucked to his chest, moving the mask back into its original place. His eyes watch you the entire time.
Your grin is positively feral as your eyes travel back to your computer screen, your head turning, and you cross one leg over the other as your hand finds the mouse once again.
"Since you're so curious about the tightness of my cunt," You say as you hear him move away from your desk. "Ask Soap about it. He can go into heavy detail. I know how much he loves debriefs, if yesterday serves as any proof."
Riley says nothing, but reaches the closed door and stops, turns towards you. Stands still. You look at him. You see his hands are clasped in the front of him, a pathetic attempt at hiding the bulge in his crotch. Bullseye.
Your gaze rakes up his body slowly, taking every inch of his large form in. He looks so sexy in his all-black uniform, everything fitting him just right. When you finally reach his eyes, you see that his head is tilted slightly downwards, and he's looking at you through the top of his hooded eyes, his mask sucking in all the light. Darkness personified.
He looks so fucking perfect, just like that.
"Be a good little cuck," You coo, speaking to him like a child. "And go ask your best friend how much he loved fucking me."
You then switch your voice back to normal, letting your eyes go dead. "Only come back when you're ready to continue the investigation. I'll be ready."
"Anything else?" Riley says roughly, like he's physically restraining himself.
"No, Lieutenant." You reply, smiling as you turn back to your computer for the final time. Your index finger resumes scrolling. "Dismissed."

*End of Chapter Seven*