#bartender!kyle

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Bartender!Kyle x gn!reader Part 2 babyyyyyy Not proofread so probably horrible. Sorry. Just wanted to get this out there as quickly as possible. I hope you have half as much fun reading as I had writing. Part 1 | COD Masterlist | Part 3

He's not waiting for you to return. He's not looking at the door everytime it opens the next few days. He's absolutely not hoping to see you again. Nope nopedy nope. He did not suddenly grow obsessed with you. He -

The door opens and his head whips around to look at who's coming in and he can feel himself straightening up, when he realizes that it is in fact you. You and some friends it seems.

You're all chattering amongst yourself and occupie a table in the corner. Kyle isn't sure who he has to thank for your return because his bar surely isn't the most popular with regular people and there's prettier spots out there, but he's not gonna complain.

He wipes his hands on a towel, swings it over his shoulder and approaches your table. Suddenly he's happy that his bar is so small and cozy that he can manage it alone.

"What can I get for you?"

One of your friends pats your shoulder after whatever they said to you and the two of them, a dude and a girl, order their stuff. Your eyes stay glued to the table and your friend orders for you.

He wonders what's up with that. You look.... down?

Shame, he would have loved to get a glimpse of your lovely eyes.

When he's behind the bar again, making your drinks he glances at you. Your friend goes to pat you on the shoulder again and you scowl.

Down and angry too? Maybe he can help with that.

He decides to double the amount of your drink and then approaches the table while balancing a tray with your drinks.

As he gets closer he can hear your voice, angry and frustrated.

"... improper language with a customer!? Can you believe it? That fuckwart had it coming, I swear. They should be grateful I got rid of that scum for them. But nooooo, 'You're fired' it is."

You let your head fall to the table in frustration and Kyle is being torn between feeling bad for you and being enamoured by the way you talk.

He never knew he could be attracted to the way someone talks. But your voice is utterly captivating and you have a particular way of pronouncing words, that just draws him in.

He silently puts the drinks on the table, putting yours before you. When you notice the amount in the glass you look up at him in surprise.

"Uh, I ordered a regular?", you question.

He smiles in response. "It's on the house. Noticed you didn't seem to be having the best day. Enjoy, dove."

When he turns around he can hear the girl squeal.

"Did you hear that!? He called you dove!? Oh my god! He was totally flirting with you."

"He's so cute too!", the guy adds knowingly smirking at you.

Then Kyle's too far away to catch more of the conversation. Shame, he would have loved hearing your response. But he's satisfied with the knowledge that your friends will definitely nudge you in his direction.

He's pretty sure everyone in the bar is too drunk to notice him paying special attention to your table and you're too busy moping about losing your job to notice him dropping by way more often that he'd need to.

It's honestly no ones business. He needs to check on his little dove.

He's coming by to ask if you need another drink once more when he hears you say: "Just gotta find another café to serve at."

Like a knight in shining armour Kyle is there.

"Sorry for eavesdropping but... I'm currently managing this bar alone and I could really use some help. So if you're interested in a job, maybe I've got the one for you.", he offers.

He smiles brightly and warmly at you and you gape up at him.

"Holy shit! That's awesome.", you say and immediately slap your hand over your mouth. Then you rush to say: "I can control my language, I promise!"

That makes him laugh and you grin up at him awkwardly until he makes you speechless once more.

"Oh, you can run your mouth here all you want. The customers won't care and I'm just happy to hear your pretty voice."

[writersdrug]

If you smack your boyfriend's ass...

Captain John Price will snap his head up, looking at you with a confused but intrigued expression, rubbing his behind in slight shock. "What's that for, luv?"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick will throw back his head and laugh, rubbing his ass and smiling at you. "Been workin' out more - is it paying off?" He'll say, looking back at his own ass.

Simon "Ghost" Riley will let out a shocked grunt. "Oi, little wanker-" he'll quickly grab you by the waist before you can scramble away and give you a few sharp pats to your ass.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish will chuckle mischievously, putting down whatever he'd be doing. "Right, askin' for it now, cheeky-" he'll say, chasing you into to the bedroom.

[feralgoblinqueen]

Things I’ve heard and said as a bartender in a sketchy dive bar. I’ve just collected them all here and made them about CoD men at my bar. Y/N is the bartender unless stated otherwise. Brought to you from my shower turned sauna as I try to decongest my sinuses. Pollen season is 100% trying to kill me this year. Please laugh at my dumb idea.

————————————

* referring to seeing Graves again*

Price: You make me want to suck start a shotgun.

————————————

Soap: Check me out. *pulls out wallet*

Y/N: Stand up and turn around real quick, please.

Soap: *confused but stands and spins in a circle slowly*

Y/N: *whistles* You look spectacular!

Soap: 🤭 I mean I’d like to pay my tab, but that made my day.

————————————

*141 drunk and harmlessly flirting*

Gaz: Did you get all dolled up me?

Soap: I bet she knew I was coming, you know blue is my favorite color.

Price: She didn’t get dressed up for you muppets! But we do appreciate how you look tonight!

Ghost: *Corralling the two drunkest* You do look very nice, let us know if you want us to get them to stop.

Y/N: Appreciation is best shown as money in the tip jar. *obviously joking but also not really because it was a slow night*

*Ghost and Price laugh, dropping a couple dollars in*

*Gaz and Soap, dead serious begin dumping the contents of their wallets*

Y/N: Guys! It’s a joke! I don’t need your credit cards or this ancient condom… seriously though please throw that away you might get someone pregnant trying to use that. *that packaging showed obvious signs of ware from how long it had sat in his wallet*

Soap: I could get you pregnant with that 😏

Price: Annnnd we’re done! Sorry about Romeo 😬

Ghost: *Grabs Soap’s wallet and drops a $20 in the tip jar* He’s very sorry.

[lunarw0rks]

dentist!graves….hearing him saying “open wide for me, sweetheart” in that sexy ass southern accent of his.

bartender!gaz who listens to all your problems, fixing your favorite drinks just how you like it

mechanic!ghost who told you to get rid of your car MONTHS ago but you didn’t listen, you like coming back to him over and over

// warning(s); dub-con // dentist!graves lord, the accent!! for some reason, your appointments are always right before closing, when all the other technicians have left... his gloved hands spend more time on your lips than teeth, caressing and toying with them -- and he has this look in his blue eyes while he does it.

gets jealous if you have bruises on the back of your throat. on the bright side, at least he knows you won't take as much coaching when he eventually has you throat him 😏 and always has the AC up really high at the clinic, so that your nipples are visible ;p

//

bartender!gaz lets you come into the bar after hours, way after last call. especially if you need to vent :( he'll take care of the tab every time, and won't accept your tips. the most protective person, too. it's not a seedy bar -- it's quite nice, actually. he knows the owners, so he had a hand in picking the theme. regardless, that never stops seedy people!!! he will break an expensive bottle over a man's head!!! no fucks whatsoever!!!

all i'm gonna say is you'll have your cheek pressed against the cold bar top occasionally......... take that how you want 🥳

//

mechanic!ghost he knows. there's no way he doesn't know. at first, he didn't care. it was your money to burn, not his. until... he started to look forward to the visits. a microscopic scratch or dent, the air pressure of your tires, or worse --- a serious problem with your shitty car.

there's a more selfish part of him that waits for the day you call him, needing his help because you're stranded with a flat or a ruined engine. how horrible would it be, to pick you up? to offer you stay with him, so he can "take you to work"? he did say it would be "easier" -- and there was little chance of you declining. it truly was a good arrangement, and it's abundantly clear that you have the hots for him. win-win.

the only reason he keeps his phone ringer on.

[gothghostiie]

bartender!gaz who brings you a drink he picked without you ordering, just to watch you take a sip and ask if its good - then take a sip himself.

[graymanshoots]

Imagine being Price's bartender niece, meeting 141 for the first time, and immediately being smitten with these three large men surrounding you. ;)

Obviously, you're off-limits to them, even though you're all grown adults!!

Just about a month after meeting them, Kyle starts a relationship with some mystery woman, only to discover later that it's you.

This revelation occurs when they visit the bar where you work, losing Kyle for 30 minutes, only to find you both exiting the bathroom, absolutely cock drunk.

He sends you back to work with a pat on the ass, most likely having left you stuffed full of his come, hoping that with how crowded the bar was that night the team hadn’t witnessed the encounter.

Unfortunately, he was definitely seen :/

Price was less than happy, and let's just say Kyle paid for it in training.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Poor Barman Part 3 

~and “There’s a dead cat on the line”~

Barman realize it's time to check if he has an aneurysm. The weird teenager didn't seem to embarrass anyone but him. Although his clients are all psychos so this is not an objective assessment.

Riddler: If Schrödinger's cat is either alive or dead then when you open the box, what do you think will happen? what is the probability of..

Danny: I prefer not to open the box. Cats love boxes! I would never even leave my room if food itself appeared in my room three times a day too. Meow! Beware!

Bartender dives under the bar at the same moment when a strange man in a work uniform attacks the Riddler and begins to demand something from him.

Riddler: But this is not the answer to the question! Сome back!

Danny: Curiosity killed the cat! Some things are worth leaving unanswered.

~and “Who is going to bell the cat?”~

Danny: Selina! I would like to offer you one interesting case.

Catwoman: I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I have a truce with Batsy right now, so I shouldn't unleash my claws in Gotham.

Danny: Come on, big cat should not leave kitty to his own device. It's in Wisconsin. You need to rob an old man in a vampire outfit.

Catwoman: And what do you get from it?

Danny: Moral satisfaction. His money isn't even earned honestly so I'm helping this poor guy to pay back his karmic debt.

~and “The cat’s out of the bag.” about half of it to be specific.~

Bartender pours a glass of water and looks at the pale teenager.

Barman: Here, it's on the house. What the hell did Riddler want from you? Aren’t those weirdos your friends? You were so uncomfortable.

Danny: He just wanted to confirm his investigation of me. and even couldn’t think of anything better than this scientific allegory.

Barman: I don’t quite understand

Danny: Yeah, just Google it, dude.then..can I trust you? You don't look like a bad person.

The bartender thinks for a second and nods.

Danny: Okay. Then just remember, I’m the cat in the equation.

Barman: You will not tell me directly, right?

Danny:..over my dead body

The bartender felt again that he had missed an inside joke. From the context he could only assume that this boy is terminally ill and the criminals somehow conspired to brighten his final days. God, he hopes he’s wrong. Despite the painful look, the bo- Danny seemed to really enjoy life. After all, that doesn’t explain the guy’s frightening abilities. Science experiment? Pretty likely.

[redemptivexheroics]

Order In [Closed]

@myxtorturedxheart [Continued]

"Chinese food sounds awesome because, honestly, I don't feel like touching the kitchen, and I really don't want to go out anywhere, so dinner in and whatever is on Netflix sounds like a great time right now," Kyle said as he stood there. "After a grueling week at the bar, I really don't want to exert any more energy if I don't have to," Kyle added.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Part of the gambler husbands au

Bartender!Ghost who has an affinity for simply appearing with peoples' drinks and bouncer!Soap given the nickname by his friends bc no matter where he goes he's kicking someone out for being disrespectful, ya'know keeping places clean of icky people. His best friend Gaz makes fun of him, says he can never get away from this job.

Ghost doing fun little party tricks to entertain the patrons who sit at the counter insted of a booth or the pool tables. He makes friendly conversations. He knows his regulars, smiles when he sees them walk in. Maybe he sees some commotion at the opposite end of the bar, soap is up front, and he can't leave the bar station. He catches the eye of whichever regular is closest to him, asks them to grab soap.

Soap being beckoned by one of his favorite regulars, he had to help them frim getting harrassed by some snob saying that "they wasn't a proper pronoun" or whatever, he was quick to put him in his place. They brought him homemade brownie the following night. The regular gestures to the far side of the bar where he can begin to see tensions rising. He thanks the patron and makes his way over. He's not sure how long he'd missed this, but a fist is loading up to be thrown just as he's pulling up to introduce himself into the situation. He grips the bicep tightly, places himself between the two. Works to ease the situation, luckily it resolves with nobody needing to be escorted out. He thanks his regular, offers to buy them a thank you drink, they decline "saying they just want to keep the peace" and he agrees.

The 1-4-1 bar is open 8pm to 1am, during the day simon and johnny go out. Sometimes they're soap or ghost. Sometimes they go find trails to hike. Sometimes they don't go out at all, instead they sleep in, have a late breakfast, have movie marathon before they have to head off to work.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

I HAVE A FUCKING FIC REC OH MY GOD IM SCREAMING THIS IS SO GOOD ITS Twenty Dollars and a Stain on the Couch by Cheylouwho and valzilla GUYS THE GANGS ALL HERE CRIME AU WE GOT DIP BUNNY STARY CREEK AND KYVID OH MY GODDDDD the plot is already so intense and I’m only on chapter 4 I’m thriving

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Baker!Johnny or Bartender!Kyle which one should get a new chapter first?

[writersdrug]

me thinks johnny and gaz should kiss 🤭

Oh, they do.

You're talking to Soap in the kitchen as you prep the condiments and he prepares his line. You hear Ghost up front speaking to someone, and when you both look out the kitchen window, you see Kyle's familiar, dazzling smile.

You quickly scramble to the side, barely managing to get out of Soap's path as he barrels past you with a "feck out the way-"

As soon as Johnny comes into the front of house, Ghost might as well have disappeared from Kyle's vision. He beams at him, straightening up a bit. "Soap! Long time no see, mate."

"Ye came 'ere not two days ago, nae?"

"Happy to see you too, Mactavish."

Soap chuckles, leaning against the bar. "Need help with tha'?" He asks, nodding towards the group of kegs stacked by the front door. They all need to be dragged upstairs to the refrigerator.

"If you're offering." Kyle responds, folding his arms over his chest. "I can always do it myself, but I suppose two hands are better than one, eh?"

Johnny huffs. "Ye sayin' ye don't need mah help?"

"Need and want are different things, Johnny."

"Think yer just bein' smart, now."

"Do you?"

"Reekin' of attitude o'er there, Garrick."

"Christ- I'd better not catch the two of you in the walk-in again." Ghost grunts out, slapping his rag onto the bar. "Keep it to the office." He disappears into the kitchen as Soap and Gaz grab a keg each, hurrying up the stairs.

You're slicing apples for the fruit cups when Simon walks in. You look at him in confusion as he makes his way behind the line and starts firing up the ovens, pouring a commercial-sized bottle of oil into the fryers.

"Where's Johnny?" You ask, tossing a grape into your mouth. "If he calls out, we're up a creek. Most I know how to make is a salad, maybe an omelet."

"He'll be back." Simon says, his back facing you as he pulls a tray of burger patties from the refrigerator. "Probably shaggin' the brewery boy in the office by now."

You drop your knife with a clatter; Simon looks at you, chuckling at your bewildered expression.

"Kyle?!"

"Who else?"

"I fucking KNEW it!!"

[trcquotes]

Bartender: So the doctor failed. The feather that fell in Jade country is now in the hands of the princess of Clow. Fei Wang: I am irritated at how little I am able to affect events, however, since what I seek is that very power, I find the irony amusing.

[nerdygirlramblings]

baby trapping(?) the 141

inspired by this post from @beloveds-embrace

It was an open secret on base that the 141 were together together. You'd occasionally see one of them - usually Gaz, sometimes Price, often Soap, never Ghost - taking someone to their barracks after a night out. You'd watch them pick up men and women, soldiers and civvies, fit and plush, but never the same person twice.

Whoever was lucky enough to join one of the 141 for a night always looked well-fucked the next day. And every one of them was tight-lipped about what happened. They'd never even confirm if sex was had, despite how obvious it was.

You're out at the pub when the 141 come crashing through the door. You heard they'd gotten in this afternoon, back from a semi-succesful mission: no one injured, intel collected, bad guys still at large. You didn't expect them to be out tonight, had figured they'd be tired or stuck in debriefs for a while.

It's clear right away they're on the hunt. Soap sidles up to two women at the bar sipping something pink in a martini glass, arms draping quickly over their shoulders. Gaz laughs as he joins a few guys playing darts, smile a little too calculated.

You're surprised when Price and Ghost are sat on either side of you.

Price nods to the bartender, who puts down a pint of something dark in front of him and Ghost, gestures to you, and says, "Amaretto sour for her." You have no idea how he knows your favorite drink. You didn't think he even knew who you were. He glances at you from the corner of his eye and asks, "'avin a good time, doll?"

You really have no idea how to respond to that. You try, and fail, to make small talk without making a fool of yourself, but it's hard when Ghost keeps chuckling - at you, not with you. He's slipped his mask up only enough to sip his stout and you try not to stare at the small glimpses you get of his face.

A few drinks later, Price puts his large hand on your knee, and you feel the warmth penetrate your slacks. "Seen you on base, doll. Glad to find you here tonight." To say you're shocked is an understatement. "What say we head out, yeah?" He drops a few notes on the bar and gently steers you up and off your barstool. You feel Ghost stand up on your other side.

As Price herds you to the door, you notice Soap and Gaz have abandoned the people they were with and have fallen into step with your little group. They get you into their vehicle, snug in the backseat between Soap and Kyle while Price drives.

Soap leans his shoulder against yours and puts his mouth to your ear. "Lass, 'm sure glad we saw you. Been hopin' fur it fur weeks." You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Gaz drapes his arm across the seatback, heat radiating across your neck, but he doesn't touch you. Instead, you see him run his fingers through Soap's mohawk, and you squeeze your thighs together a little. You never thought something like, well, whatever this looks like, would be something you would be part of.

You're back at their barracks faster than you thought possible. Getting past the door and through the common areas is a blur. Instead your brain stutters on the feel of Price's mouth on yours, his beard scraping against your cheek and neck as he kisses down your throat.

There are hands at your waist, unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them and your underwear down your legs. Another set of hands is tugging your shirt up over your head. Once you're naked you feel multiple sets of lips kiss and nip: teeth tug on your ear, a tongue laves against a nipple, stubble rubs along your inner thigh. Big hands, fingers rough with callouses and bluntly bitten nails, roam your body. And through it all the praises whispered "good girl" and "so sweet" and "made fer us" carry you into oblivion.

It never occurred to you the 141 were the Three Musketeers: anyone they brought back was one for all and all for one. You understand why those before you believed in "don't kiss and tell." You leave their barracks feeling shell-shocked. It carries you home and into work the next day, where you fully expect things to go back to normal.

And they do. Mostly. Until a vase shows up on your desk two days later with nothing but a bar of soap on the card. The blooms are your birth month flower. Two more days pass before you hear Price's voice in the hallway. You peek your head out as he turns your way, and his smile beams. "There you are, doll. Brought your favorite," he says, holding take away. And not only is it your favorite dish from your favorite cuisine, its from the little shop you like best in town.

You really know something's different when Friday rolls around. Gaz corners you as you leave medical, and before you realize what you've agreed to, you're following him into the 141's barracks.

This is unheard of. They never bring the same person back twice. You don't plan to question it, though, just ride it out as long as they're interested. Six weeks of wooing - you couldn't think of another word for the presents and flowers and meals and conversations and the sex, god the sex - fly past before Price breaks the news of their impending deployment.

They ask you to wait for them, to be part of them, when they get back. It's on the tip of your tongue to say yes. You want this, you want them, but you hesitate. They've always been the 141, and you're an outsider. You leave your response vague and hope they hear the desire in your tone.

A month into their deployment and you're struggling to sleep. You can't keep food down. You regret how open you left things. But it's more than that. An itch in the back of your brain drives you to ask a nurse friend on base to discretely check your hCG levels. The response is what you hoped feared.

You don't know how you'll face them if they ever return. You were worried about getting between them before, but this is ten times worse. You can't imagine how this will change how they are with each other. You're carrying someone's baby. It never occurs to you to do anything other than raise it yourself.

You make it on base another two months, and there's no word about the 141. But as you begin to show, rumors start dogging your steps. People knew you'd been involved with various members of the 141 before they'd deployed. Now they're whispering about whether you even know who the father is.

As a civilian employee, you're a contractor on base, so you simply ask your employer to find you a job in town. You want to leave entirely, but your heart won't let you take their baby far, at least not until you can determine whose it is and at least let them know.

You don't expect them to be part of the baby's life, but it isn't fair to disappear when you know word will make it around base and they have the means to find you anyway. You figure this will allow for a clean break before any fallout.

Months go by, and you hear from friends still on base that the 141 came back but haunted. They'd had a few close calls on this last mission: injuries that could have been prevented, stealth ops where they were the ones being ambushed. Things that shouldn't have happened. Things that made them think long and hard about what the future held for them.

Now that they're back, you expect someone to track you down, find your location in town, but no one comes. You vaguely notice the large home on the edge of town, the run-down one with a massive garden, slowly starts looking better.

Two weeks after your little girl is born, the knock you never thought would come finally does. You carry your bundle to the door and clutch her tighter when you see the 141 through the peep hole. You open the door and wordlessly let them in.

The expressions on their faces range from awe to fear. You're sure your face displays the same. Finally, it's Price who speaks. "We should-a been 'ere, doll. Can ya forgive us?"

You know you're gaping and can barely bring yourself to nod.

"We meant it," Ghost tells you. "We want you. And now we want you both." It's more words than you've heard him speak at once, and without prompting.

Soap looks at you with such unbridled longing, reaching out his hands not for you but for your - their - baby that you don't even think before passing her over. As he cradles her carefully, Price chimes back in. "We bought a place, big, on the edge 'o town. We're not retiring, but we want to do more than look one day ahead. And in all those days, there's you, you and this miracle."

Finally, Gaz pins you with a look. "Come be ours, dove. You've been what we were missin' before we even knew we were missin' anything."

This time your answer is anything but vague.

[tojisun]

currently obsessed with biker!simon!!!! how do you think he and reader met? i think, whatever the situation was, he was the one that couldn't get his eyes off her and started to bluntly stare??? maybe soap was with him and laughed bc he had never saw him get this serious about any girl he had laid his eyes on 😫😫😫😫

BAE I WENT FERAL WHEN I READ THIS BECAUSE YEAH!!! YEAH

ok so this is gonna be ridiculous but bear with me because im actually so obsessed with biker!simon im unwell

simon prefers using his bike whenever he’s out with his friends. there’s no use taking his car, anyway. not with kyle hitching a ride with john, and johnny taking his own car on the few occasions that he does bring someone home with him.

simon’s never had to take those things into account because he preferred a quiet end to his nights, anyway. just a shot of bourbon and a short dinner with his friends, and then he’s back on the road and on his way home.

so he’s never had regrets with taking his bike. until today, of course.

he’s noticed you since you walked into the bar with your friends, your arm hooked around one of them and your head tilted to hear them better. the others who are not engaged in a discussion with you whipped their heads around to find an empty booth and simon almost crushed his glass at the way his heart leapt when he realized that the closest empty booth in the place was the one directly beside his group’s. 

simon watched as your group moved closer, the chatter finally piercing his ears and, unconsciously, his body turned to hear you better. from in front of him, johnny’s pinched lips finally wobbled as he wheezed out a laugh, breaking simon’s focus.

“what?” simon barked out, feeling warmth creep up from his neck to his ears, half of his mind focused on the group settling behind him. 

“holy shit,” johnny said mid-laughter. “you don’t know anythin’ about subtlety.”

simon grumbled then, in denial, but now he just fully stopped caring.

somehow, as the night progressed, simon gravitated towards the seat facing yours, a spot where he had a clear vantage view of you. he’s taken advantage of the change in seating, devouring the sight you make as you giggled with your friends. devouring the change in atmosphere, now that you’ve begun to return his heated looks.

it started with curious looks, born from your friend whispering to you how simon was staring; how, throughout the night, he did not entertain all those who went up beside him and focused only on you. then your gaze shifted into something scalding. something that sent liquid fire warming simon from the pit of his stomach to the back of his spine.

mactavish sighs beside him. “just buy the lass a drink already.”

simon peels his eyes away from you to look at johnny, mulling over the suggestion before grunting out a thanks. he stands up and walks to the bar, calling out to get the bartender’s attention.

remembering the bellini that you’ve been nursing since you got here, simon asks for another flute of the cocktail and requests that it be served to you. he turns when he says this, hoping to give the bartender a clear view of who the bellini is for only to blink in surprise when he sees you standing just a few feet away from him.

“sir?” the man behind the counter asks.

“sorry. just serve it here,” simon replies, his eyes still on you. there is shuffling behind him, the bartender probably leaving to whip up his order, but simon honestly doesn’t care anymore.

not when you finally shuffle close, a shy smile dancing on your lips.

“hello,” you greet, voice a hesitant whisper, and simon feels like he’s been gutted.

you’re so goddamn beautiful, it’s catastrophic. 

simon thinks of how short you are, something he’s first noticed the moment you walked into the bar. it’s not like he’s surprised by the realization given that he tends to tower over anyone ever since he hit his growth spurt, but there is something unfurling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes how perfectly you fit in his arms. how easy it would be to just tuck you underneath his chin and slot himself around you. 

“hey,” he finally replies, his eyes roving along your features, trying to memorize the shimmer of your lips. the long wisps of your lashes. “‘m simon.”

you giggle, introducing yourself shyly, and the sound of your laughter tickles his ears, making him weak to his knees. he mouths your name, testing it out for himself and preening when it rolls off his tongue with ease. like your name is something simon is supposed to always call. 

his new favourite word.

“sorry,” you say, lifting your hand like you want to reach out and touch him, only for you to snuff out the action in your anxiousness. “i don’t, uh, come up to people i find attractive so this is really making me nervous.”

simon is aware of how good he looks – he’s proud of it even – but there is something about a pretty darling like you admitting how his looks make you nervous that sparks the desire in him to transform into something more carnal.

something more visceral.

he reaches his hand out toward you, inviting you to finally close the remaining distance between you two, and smiles when you take the offer, placing your hand on top of his palm, sending goosebumps to rise across his skin. you step into his space and simon has to stop himself from breathing you in, afraid how he’ll end up reacting when he’s taken a whiff of your intoxicating scent. 

“i’ve ordered you a drink,” simon whispers, his voice a hoarse croak.

“oh,” you mumble. “thank you...”

he notes the hesitation in your words, the bubble in his chest popping as his worry extinguishes his burning desire. “you don’t have to drink it.”

“no!” 

he startles at your reaction, his wide eyes staring back at your equally shocked ones. 

it takes a heartbeat before the two of you are breaking off into choked laughter, your body angled to muffle your giggles on the sleeves of his sweater. simon’s heart clenches at the cute display and he curls his arms around you, pulling you close until your head is pressed on his chest.

he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

it takes a while for the laughter to fizzle out, leaving you putty in his arms, your chin digging into his chest as you gaze up at him. simon eagerly returns your stare, his lips stretched into the softest of smiles now that he has you in his arms. he brushes your hair away from your face, warmth exploding in his chest at your happy little sigh.

“wanna leave this place with you,” you tell him and simon trembles with need. 

because he wants you to come home with him too. wants to show you how a sweetheart like you deserves to be treated. how you deserve to be cherished and pampered and revered. 

then, he remembers his goddamn harley. 

fuck. 

wait. now that he thinks about it-

“is there something wrong?” you ask, face creasing in worry at seeing his frown. 

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” simon replies, his mind already mapping out the roads to his place. “lemme just grab my keys while you drink up, yeah?”

you nod softly, eyes fluttering close when simon leans forward to press his lips on the top of your head, before stepping away from your warmth. he watches the way you ambled towards the bar counter, carefully picking up your new flute of bellini before turning to show him that adorable little smile that simon’s starting to be addicted to and taking a small sip of your cocktail.

the wrap of your pretty lips around the straw shouldn’t stir something so carnal in him but it does and simon gulps, well aware of the sudden thirst that sucked the moisture from his throat, before turning to march towards his table.

johnny whistles out loud when simon reaches them, tipping his new glass of beer and whooping even when kyle growls how he’s being too loud. simon would’ve sided with garrick, but his patience is running thin and the need that is raging within him is gaining strength so he ignores them both to stand beside johnny.

“keys.”

“what?”

“mactavish, give me your keys.”

“...why?”

simon holds in a sigh as he watches kyle reach over to smack johnny on the back of his head. “what the hell do you think?” 

john continues to ignore the group, his eyes trained somewhere on the dance floor. traitor, simon thinks. 

“oh,” johnny whispers. “oh!” 

he tries not to tap his foot as johnny grapples with his trousers, hitting his elbows on the edge of the table and angrily cursing in scottish, before finally fishing them out of the depths of his pockets and presenting them to simon. simon takes them with urgency, almost ripping them from johnny’s fingers, before throwing the keys of his harley to johnny and barking out his thanks.

“use protection!” johnny screams because of course he would. he’s a fucking bastard.

simon flips him off as he marches back towards you. 

you look up at hearing him call your name, your beautiful face glowing as you smile at him again.

god, he’ll never tire of seeing your pretty smile.

“ready?” he asks, masking the excitable tremble of his voice with a quick cough.

“mhmm!” you reply, putting down your half-empty cocktail and clambering beside simon’s side. he presses another kiss on the top of your head, this time no longer holding back as he breathes you in, and leads you out towards johnny’s car.

next time, he’ll take you out for a bike ride. 

because simon promises that there will be a next time.

starting to think if i might need a masterlist for biker!simon atp // edit: mlist!

[redemptivexheroics]

When Kyle got into his apartment, he got out of his jacket, went over to his couch, and put his phone on speaker as he turned on his PS5 to play some Call of Duty. "Yeah, it's not for everyone, but hey, kudos to you for sticking with it; I would've bailed the first chance I got," Kyle laughed as he sat back.

"No problem, just let me know when your flight lands and I'll come to pick you up. Can't wait to see you."

"I get that. It's definitely not easy at times." Wyatt didn't always like being in LA. She had needed to get out of her hometown and acting was exactly what she wanted to do with her life but there were times where she missed the anonymity she used to have.

It was a relief when he said she could come. She quickly put her phone on speaker and grabbing some clothes to put in her duffle. "Thank you so much! First flight I can get on and then I'll be yours for the weekend!"