me going home after a long day to see my husband (he is fictional)
Sexiest Man Alive 2023
Saying your going to have shower sex with ghost is like giving a dog a slice of cheese with medicine wrapped inside. You let him wash your tits.... as a treat.
He gets to grab at your tits and paw at you all he wants while you soap up the washcloth. It's all fun and games when you're scrubbing his chest, letting him look at you and think maybe you'll start playing with his cock, but then you grab the shampoo and suddenly it's not fun anymore. He's getting soap in his eyes and trying to keep you from accidentally waterboarding him in an attempt to clean some of the grime off his face. Is this grease paint of dirt? Who knows but it's got to come off.
The backne on this man is severe. You gotta put topical cream on him afterwards. He pouts the whole time.
yall know what to do šš
single mom x price lovers are welcome to invade my inbox and such bc when i'll stsrt to fully write this..... theres no going back
Simon Riley is the most self-sacrificing, loyal, and devoted person there is.
He shouldnāt be. The world didnāt owe him shit.
But it was in his nature.
Ever since he was old enough to talk, heād protect his own. Heād hold Tommy back from arguing with his dad, knowing it would only result in black eyes and tears. Heād watch mournfully from the staircase as his mother took the fall.
Heād be there after, not long after drunken snores sounded from the couch. Simon would have tissues held in his hand, offering it to his crying mother along with a kiss and hug.
āIām sorry.ā Heād apologize, knowing it wasnāt his fault his mother had slap marks on her face, or blood on her lip. He was only sorry he wasnāt strong enough to fight him.
After a couple years, Tommy fell into similar habits, picking up the liquor and any drug he could lay his hands on.
Simon once again took the blunt of the fall. His caring heart breaking at his brotherās anger and decreasing health. Heād throw away the bottles he could find, flushing any pills down the toilet.
He was caught once, arms at his side as his brother screamed at him, shoving him down to the ground. Simon only took the fall, knowing he wouldnāt hurt his brother, not when he knew this wasnāt truly him.
Heād even stick up for Tommy in school, taking on the fights his brother picked up over drug prices. Heād take every punch to the gut, every kick, every blow to the faceā one hit so hard he lost his front tooth in a spat of blood.
His mother didnāt have the money to fix it. He told her not to worry, heād get his own job.
Simon, at the fresh age of 16, received his first job working as a butcher apprentice. Heād stay up late hours working overtime, sometimes even sleeping in the back against the cold meat freezer.
He found it to be a relief to butcher something, imaging it often to be his fatherās face, despite his sharp blade only sinking into bloody chunks of meat. Often times heād take the leftover scraps home to his mother, just so she could have something to eat that night.
Heād never spent any money on himself, until it came to the time to get that tooth fixed, despite the earful his father gave him for not scraping enough change for ārent.ā ļæ¼
He worked hard for two years, hardly sleeping, taking care of others. His hands were now covered in shallow scars, his muscles evening out as he grew to his full height. He was strong, he was tall, but his maturity stayed the same. Simon was an adult for his whole life.
He was at the shop when the news broadcasted, displaying the two burning towers in New York City. He watched the gruesome videos, seeing the terror and fear.
He was filling out his paperwork the next day, going to basic training the next week.
He would never forgive himself afterwards, for leaving behind a grieving mother and angry brother.
When he returned, now a man of potential, all in his freshly pressed uniform, his mother had wept. Proud tears in her eyes as she held onto her pride and joy. Simon had willingly embraced her, nearly squeezing her to death.
āMissed ya, Mum.ā Heād sigh, eyes squeezing shut.
Heād ask about his brother, half-knowing it would still be the same since he left. But now, Simon was bigger, he knew how to fight, how to expect the worst. Hell, his sergeants screamed more than his father or brother ever did.
So Simon once again left for his brother, this time throwing away all the drugs and alcohol and watching him like a hawk.
Tommy had never been so angry, falling backwards and into the withdrawling stage. That was the worst of it.
Simon was once again selfless after a trip to the grocery store, buying his mom groceries for the week. A pretty cashier had left her number on the receipt, but instead Simon had introduced her to his brother instead.
They had hit it off, now going on their third date. Simon had never been more grateful for Beth, despite the nagging in the back of his mind that thought, āwhat if I wanted to date? What if I wanted to be happy?ā
But, heād always put his brother first.
Itās why he found himself smiling beside an alter, putting his whole life on pause to watch his brother dressed in black shed tears as his very pregnant fiancĆ© walked down the aisle.
She gave a cute little wave to Simon, before happily taking Tommyās hand to exchange vows.
Simon fought hard on his way to the SAS, watching brothers die and serving many tours. He always worried in the back of his mind that heād become too much like his father. A cold hearted killer, someone who took love and crumbled it in a fist.
He thought he deserved to be punished, the cold meat hook impaled in between his ribs. The bruises, the cuts, the sexual assaults he was too weak to fight off. He deserved it all.
He was a shell, but at least his family was safe. At least he could justify his need to protect his family. Heād take a million torturous acts to protect his sweet mum, or his brother, his sister in law. Their sweet bundle of joy Joseph.
Roba had cackled about killing his family, how heād destroy them. Itās why the jawbone was clenched between Simonās fist, dirt filling his lungs as he dug out of the casket. He had to get home. His purpose of being alive, was in danger.
He was a selfless bastard, but heād never wanted to be so selfish after seeing the blood on the floor. To not feel the horrid pain or hear the hollowed screams his body released involuntarily.
Roba had ripped out Simonās heart and crushed it to powder. Took his mum, his family, his home.
Simon Riley was a Ghost.
Heād visit their graves every year, speaking of his life and how he missed them.
Heād tell them of his task force, how Man United had won another game. Heād sink to his feet in front of little Josephās gravestone, setting a toy plane against the moss.
He found tears were easy to fall.
āYouāll catch a cold out here, Simon.ā
An angelic voice had called out to him, a warm hand anchoring him to the gravitational pull that was you.
You knew little of his life, of his service. But you knew him, and the brute cursed himself every day for letting such an innocent and beautiful creature get close to his tainted flesh.
You somehow wormed your way into his heart, healing and patching the tears and allowing himself to be selfish just this once.
He loved you.
And maybe, just maybe he could find himself being a person once again. Tying his soul to you and holding you against his chest like the precious gem you were.
āIām coming, love. Just had to say goodbye.ā
He could be selfish. Just this once, right?
He took your hand.
Scrumptious
trying out procreate with a price sketchĖā§āā
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