Simon Ghost Riley x Fem OC.
❝I am rotten. How can you see the good in me?❞
𝑺𝒄𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒏, a tough and cold SAS soldier, haunted by the dark past and her demons. She's back on her tracks in Captain Price's team, to catch a dangerous threa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE jet of hot water warmed me all over, my hands were resting on the marble wall for support. If John had given me any information, I would have immediately flown to catch that asshole, no matter how risky it might have been. I was trained to do so, I was sent to a lot of solo missions and I could handle myself quite well.
But before I could do anything, I intended to feel good about myself. I had already told Joyce that I was leaving again and that she should notify me as soon as possible if anything happened to my uncle. I would have been too busy.
Almost a month had passed since I joined the 141, I had forced myself not to feel at ease with them, my walls were always high up and indestructible. I was afraid that they would hurt me too, that they would notice my weakness and my broken soul, I couldn't count on anyone but me.
But among them only one had managed to go beyond those walls, to touch me like no one had ever done, to touch me so deeply. Simon was a rather strange man, he hid secrets like me, but unlike me, he managed to move forward without looking back. He was strong, imposing, intimidating, he knew how to take what he wanted. Either I was too weak or he was so fucking good.
His hazel eyes always managed to make me feel naked and small. He looked at me as if I were a temptation, a rare and precious instrument to play, he managed to draw emotions from me that I had never felt. And I damned him for it.
Every time I felt his fingers touching me, his lips leaving hot kisses on my skin, his hands squeezing my neck delicately and his words echoing in my head. He was all of the seven deadly sins.
At the mere thought of him, I felt my body on fire and not from the hot water. The heat spread between my legs, I felt the persistent need to have him here, his body pressed against mine, his fingers exploring every side of me. Such a good girl for me.
A sigh fell from my lips, I rested my forehead against the wall and let a hand trace the contours of my body, as he would have done.
I wondered how he would talk to me, how he would touch me under the shower, how he would take more moans and pleasures from me. With him, I felt like I was on a carousel of emotions, he made me enter a world of pleasure, where it was just him and me, no one else.
I spread my legs slightly, my fingers stroking on my core that demanded his attentions. My lips parted to let out small sighs as my fingers continued its movements, slow and teasing in circles, applying the right amount of pressure to satisfy myself, just like how he would do. Atta girl..
At every thought of him, the pace increased, my hips rocked against the movements, grinding on my own fingers as muffled pants escaped me, What a naughty girl you are, Meridia..
Pleasure overwhelmed my body, my fingers were working wonders down there, imagining his hand instead of mine. I never expected myself to get to this point, to crave a man to touch me, to never stop his confusing ways.
My eyebrows furrowed, the movements closed into tight circles as I neared the edge, my body tensed up, I was muffling my moans into my other hand. Then the climax came crashing down on me, I felt like being on cloud nine, my hips still grinding against my fingers to ride on my release. That's my sweet girl.
It was like he was here, watching me pleasure myself at the thought of him. I was a complete mess, he transformed me into this mess.
*
Stepping out of the parlor, the sun shone over my platinum hair, now cut into a straight bob. My old black hair held the memories of my constant suffering, of the constantly collapsing on the past, changing my hairstyle made me feel better and confident.
While getting my treatment done, the TV of the salon was turned on and was playing the news, it shocked me seeing Shepherd's face on it. But I didn't understand one thing, he was giving credit to the Task Force and the ULF for finally capturing Vladimir Makarov, it seemed almost surreal to me. It was impossible that they had already found him and killed him, without me, without me finding my father.
Everything seemed too odd.
I walked through the streets of the city, in one hand I held my sixth cigarette of the day while the other held the phone close to my ear, waiting for John to answer the call. I had to know as soon as possible the plan, the intel on Makarov and his possible helper: my father.
"Scylla, I was about to call you." His voice oozed from the phone as I took a long drag from the cigarette, tossing it away right after. "John, what the hell is going on?" I asked with a quiet voice before finding a secluded street where I could hide. "Makarov is still alive."
A sigh of relief escaped me, not because he was still alive and I wanted him to continue with his massacres. It was because I could still find Jonathan. "Fuuck. I knew it." I nibbled on my lower lip nervously, I still had some time, I just needed to find out where the Konni were. I was 100% sure that he was planning other attacks and this time it would be a real tragedy.
"He's in London."
The world around me froze. London. I was hours away from that city, he was fucking looking for me and I knew it, my guts were always right.
"Tomorrow Konni is meeting up with a known black hat in Greensbury Park, we need you Scylla." He stated and I tensed up. I wouldn't have had time to find him in so few hours, tomorrow there would've been the mission and they would have caught me. The only thing I could do was go with them.
"Roger that, John." I replied with a firm tone, my eyes staring at the wall ahead of me as I hoped to encounter him.
"I'm glad. By the way Ghost seemed concerned when he heard about your departure." His words left me almost shocked. That bastard, after fucking me and leaving me like an idiot, was even worried about me?
Fuck him.
"Is there something between the two of you?"
Fuck yes. Every time we were so close he fucked me with his eyes, he touched me and I let him do it. I wanted his body more than anything, he fucked my head up and body, and I always crave for more. But every time the asshole touched me, the next day he almost seemed to ignore me. So yes, there is something between us that not even I can explain.
