#but I think that’s even more telling that even unconscious i knew one better than the other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

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Turning Tables

Summary: The team finds you and Spencer, you come back to work after recovering, things are tense. Spencer realizes he messed up, but you're not so quick to forgive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), mentions of hookup culture, talks of cases, reader is heavily assaulted by unsub, broken bones, dumb man Spencer, missed signals, bad communication

Word count: 6.9k

a/n: hiii there will be a part three!!

main masterlist part one part three

The team finally found the two of you in the abandoned warehouse, but the sight they came upon was brutal. Spencer had a black eye and a split lip from being hit, his face bruised and bloodied, but you— you had taken the worst of it. The unsub had unleashed relentless violence on you. You’d been slapped, punched, kicked, spit on, cut, and thrown around like a ragdoll. The unsub’s twisted plan was clear: break Spencer by hurting you, the "weaker" hostage, using your suffering to force him into talking. But you both knew that wasn’t an option. Spencer couldn’t give the unsub what he wanted, no matter how much it tore him apart to watch you take those blows.

Every hit that landed on you felt like it was striking Spencer himself. He watched, helpless, feeling the pain of every blow as though it was his own flesh being torn and bruised. Yet he remained silent, knowing that any begging or pleading from him would only make the unsub escalate. He couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t put you through more than what you were already enduring, though it felt like it was killing him inside to watch.

When the team finally stormed in, you were unconscious, your body battered and limp as they carted you away on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Hotch approached Spencer, his voice calm but filled with concern as he asked, "What happened to Y/N?"

Spencer, sitting in the back of another ambulance, stared blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, weighed down by the guilt and horror of what had transpired. His voice was quiet, flat. “She was the target.”

Hotch took in Spencer's empty gaze, the exhaustion and anguish etched into every line of his face, and knew better than to press for more. They’d have to wait until you woke up to understand the full scope of what happened in that warehouse. But even then, Hotch feared that some wounds might never truly heal.

—

You eventually did wake up, groggy but relieved to find that, despite the brutality you endured, you had very little internal damage. The doctors assured you that your body just needed time to heal. Two weeks of paid leave were granted as you recovered, a rare gesture of empathy from Chief Strauss, who seemed to have a soft spot for you.

As the painkillers faded and your mind cleared, the questions from your team began. You sat with them, still feeling tender but able to think straight, recounting everything you remembered from that night. You and Spencer had been investigating a house, following up on an anonymous tip. It seemed routine until the moment you two split up to check different rooms. That’s when it happened—ambushed from behind, a cloth drenched in chloroform shoved over your mouth. After that, everything went black.

"I only remember waking up inside the warehouse with Spencer," you explained, your voice steady but laced with tension. The memories still fresh, the pain still vivid. "The unsub wanted me. I was the real target. They said I was more of a challenge than any of their other victims."

JJ, sitting beside you, asked softly, her voice gentle and careful. “Why did they take Spencer?”

You heaved a breath, feeling the weight of the answer on your chest. “They thought if they took him too, they could find out where the rest of the team was. They wanted Spencer to tell you all it was a dead end, to send you off on a different trail.” You paused, your breath shaking as you continued. “They said if Spencer did that, they’d release him. But they made it clear… they just wanted me.”

The room was silent for a moment, the gravity of your words hanging in the air. Your team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. They didn’t need to. You all understood what it meant—that the unsub was willing to let Spencer go, but you were never supposed to walk out of that warehouse alive.

—

When you returned to work after your leave, the atmosphere shifted. The entire team was happy to have you back, and there were warm smiles all around. Spencer, however, seemed unsure how to approach you now. Still, he smiled as you passed by, his voice tentative yet sincere as he said, “I’m really glad you’re back and feeling better.”

You returned the smile, a brief and polite response escaping your lips. “Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate it.” The exchange was short, almost too brief, and you both seemed to sense the unspoken tension lingering between you. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by JJ, who had grown close to you since the incident. She had been your rock, someone you confided in more and more.

When she found a quiet moment alone with you, JJ slipped into the conversation with ease. “Hey, how’s your first day back?” she asked with her trademark smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

You shrugged lightly, trying to mask any unease. “Same as usual, I guess. It feels good to be working again, though. I was getting restless at home.”

JJ laughed knowingly, nodding. “I know exactly what you mean.” Then, her voice dropped, softer now, as she leaned in slightly. “Did something happen between you and Spence?”

The question caught you off guard, your brows knitting in surprise. Did Spencer say something to her? You quickly tried to brush it off with a joke. “Other than, you know, getting kidnapped together? Not that I know of.”

But JJ wasn’t convinced. She made a face like she wasn’t buying your casual response. “Are you sure? You two haven’t really been talking much. I guess I just assumed something like that would have brought you closer… in a weird, awful sort of way.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to deflect again. “Yeah… we didn’t get the trauma bonding memo, I guess.”

JJ still looked skeptical, her eyes scanning your face for cracks in your armor. “Okay, well… just, if you need to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Her offer was genuine, and the sincerity in her voice made you pause. You smiled back at her, feeling a small but comforting warmth settle in. “Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate that.”

Across the bullpen, Spencer had been listening to the conversation from his desk, his heart aching at what JJ was implying. He’d been mulling over the same thought—that the trauma you both went through should have drawn you closer. Shared experiences like that often created a bond, an unspoken connection forged in survival. But instead, he could feel the distance between you growing wider, and it tore him up inside.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard this must be for you, how you were facing it all alone. You were still relatively new to the team, and as far as Spencer knew, this was your first time being kidnapped. After his first time, he had shut everyone out. Granted, he’d been addicted to drugs back then, but that isolation still hadn’t been the right path. It had only deepened the pain, and he feared you might be doing the same thing.

He could only hope you were receiving the support you needed—support he wasn’t sure he could give you anymore.

—

Later that week, you found yourself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the sharp ache in your side as you reached for a mug to make tea. The pain in your ribs flared up with every stretch, the broken bones protesting loudly. As your arm extended toward the cupboard, the burning sensation became unbearable, and you yelped, clutching your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern as he walked into the room just in time to see you wince in pain. He was by your side in an instant, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how far he could go. “Are you okay?”

You grunted, trying to downplay the pain. “I’m fine, just... need a mug.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod before stepping in to help. He reached up with ease, grabbing the mug he knew was your favorite—the one you always used for your tea. “Here,” he said softly, placing it on the counter in front of you. “Making tea?”

A small flutter stirred in your chest at the realization that he remembered both your favorite mug and your preference for tea. It was such a small detail, but it felt significant in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that still lingered between you despite everything.

—

You laughed as you watched Spencer pour himself yet another cup of coffee. “It’s three in the afternoon, Spencer! Who drinks coffee this late?”

Spencer chuckled along with you, lifting his cup with a playful grin. “Me! Obviously!” he said, gesturing toward the steaming mug with a mock sense of pride.

You bumped his hip with yours, gently nudging him out of the way as you reached for the kettle. “Well, some of us actually like to sleep,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

What you didn’t notice was the way Spencer had stared at you after that, a soft, affectionate gaze lingering on your face, the kind of look that held more meaning than words could express.

—

“Yeah, thanks,” you sighed, knowing you needed the help but still feeling a little self-conscious about it.

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your favorite tea from the cupboard and began steeping it for you, his movements calm and precise. He didn’t ask if you needed more assistance—he just did it, like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment. It was a silent kindness, one that reminded you of the Spencer you knew before everything had gotten so complicated.

As the tea steeped, you leaned back slightly, watching him with gratitude and lingering uncertainty. The simplicity of the moment, of him helping you with something as mundane as making tea, felt like a brief return to the way things used to be between you.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Spencer asked, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in front of him rather than meeting your eyes. His tone was casual, but there was something tense beneath it, something unspoken that lingered between the two of you.

You frowned, feeling a bit of confusion and then a flicker of annoyance rising up. Was he only doing this out of guilt? You straightened up slightly, crossing your arms over your chest despite the ache in your ribs.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to suck up to me because of what happened,” you said, your words sharper than you intended. You regretted it immediately, but the frustration had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while now—how careful everyone was being around you, how things with Spencer had grown so strange and distant since the kidnapping.

Spencer froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the counter as he absorbed your words. His jaw tightened, and for a second, he didn’t move or say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m not… sucking up to you.”

You huffed, unsure where this conversation was heading but feeling the tension building between you. “Then what is this? You’ve barely said two words to me since I came back, and now suddenly you’re… what? Trying to make up for it by being overly nice?”

Spencer’s shoulders stiffened, and he finally turned to face you, his expression guarded. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, his voice measured, like he was trying not to let his own emotions show. “I know things are… different now. But I didn’t want to push you into talking or pretending everything’s okay if it’s not. That’s all.”

The frustration in you wavered, your annoyance softening as you realized he wasn’t trying to guilt-trip or coddle you. He was as lost in this new dynamic as you were, both of you navigating the aftermath of something you hadn’t fully processed. His hesitation wasn’t about sucking up—it was about not knowing how to be around you anymore.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to fix this, or me.”

Spencer's eyes softened slightly as he watched you, his own uncertainty flickering across his face. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said, almost a whisper now. “I just… don’t want to make things worse.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and suddenly the air felt heavy, filled with everything you both hadn’t said since the warehouse.

“Worse, right,” you scoffed, the bitterness lacing your voice before you could stop it. “Sorry I started an awful chain of events.” You could feel the hurt bubbling up again, the weight of rejection you’d been carrying ever since that day in the warehouse. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional bruise left behind, the wound that hadn’t healed.

Spencer looked at you, his expression faltering. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then hesitated, unsure of how to mend what had already spiraled so far out of control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly, his words stumbling out in a rush. “We were under a lot of stress… sometimes people say things they don’t mean, searching for comfort.”

You felt your heart drop at his words. He thought it was just a fleeting moment, something you’d said out of desperation. That stung worse than anything. You blinked back the frustration and the tears that were threatening to spill over, the pain in your side flaring as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, the door to the break room slamming behind you with a sharp, echoing crack.

Spencer stood there, stunned, the sound of the door slamming reverberating in the silence. He hadn’t meant to make things worse. He didn’t realize until it was too late that you hadn’t just left the conversation—you had left the room entirely, and maybe… left something between you both behind.

He clenched his hands into fists, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to undo the damage that had already been done. All he knew was that you had walked away and it felt as if he was losing you for good.

—

Things on the team settled into a new rhythm, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Everyone seemed to accept that you and Spencer were no longer as close as you had once been, though there was an undercurrent of tension. The two of you weren’t assigned together anymore, and that seemed to smooth things out for the most part. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Spencer kept a quiet distance, while you partnered up with Derek in the field.

Spencer couldn’t shake the bitterness that crept in when he saw you with Derek. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch had reassigned you because he thought Spencer couldn’t protect you, that you needed someone strong like Derek to keep you safe. The thought left him feeling sour, inadequate, like he’d somehow failed. But then, just as quickly, he’d get mad at himself for even thinking that way. You didn’t need protecting. You were more than capable of handling yourself in the field. You had survived worse than most, even if he couldn’t bear to watch it happen.

What gnawed at him most, though, was how happy you seemed with Derek. The way you laughed and joked with him, talking easily like you once did with Spencer. It stirred something ugly inside him, something he didn’t want to admit. He couldn’t deny that Derek was the kind of man who seemed perfect—strong, confident, and charming. A man who could sweep anyone off their feet. He hated that it bothered him, but he’d never allow himself to admit that he was afraid you’d fall for Derek. That kind of jealousy was too much to confront.

You, on the other hand, were content with your new partnership. Derek was easygoing and didn’t pry into your personal life. He let you manage things on your own terms, only asking questions when you willingly brought something up. It was a refreshing change, especially after everything that had happened with Spencer. You didn’t want to talk about what had gone wrong. You were too embarrassed, too ashamed of how vulnerable you had felt. It was easier to leave it behind, buried where no one could see the cracks.

But despite the professional ease, there was still a part of you that missed what you and Spencer once had, even if you’d never admit that either.

—

On one particular case, you and Derek celebrated the capture of an unsub with a big, triumphant hug. In the heat of the moment, you jumped into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as the rest of the team cheered. It had been the two of you who made the breakthrough that led to the unsub’s hideout, and everyone was thrilled. You were beaming, caught up in the excitement of the team.

But Spencer, standing on the sidelines, was stewing. His mind kept replaying the mistake he had made, the detail he had missed that Derek had caught. And now, it was Derek who had caught you, too. Watching the two of you laughing, hugging, and celebrating felt like a punch to his gut. His insecurities gnawed at him, building into a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface.

The rest of the team, however, smiled at the sight of you, happy to see you so joyful and healed enough to engage in lighthearted horseplay with Derek. The dark cloud that had followed you since the kidnapping seemed to have lifted, and it was a relief to everyone.

When the team returned to Quantico, Penelope was quick to corral everyone for celebratory drinks at the local bar. You stuck close to JJ and Penelope, grateful for their company as the night went on. After a few drinks, they pulled you out onto the dance floor, laughter bubbling up between the three of you as the music played. You let yourself go, dancing with JJ and Penelope, the worries of the past few months fading in the glow of the evening.

But it wasn’t until Derek joined you girls on the dance floor that something shifted. Spencer, sitting at the bar, felt a surge of jealousy flood through him. Derek was there again, touching your arm, laughing with you, spinning you around as the girls cheered. Spencer’s vision blurred with red-hot anger, the insecurities and feelings he had been burying for weeks now boiling over.

Before he could think twice, Spencer stormed over, grabbing Derek by the arm and pulling him outside the bar. The sudden outburst left Derek confused, glancing at Spencer with genuine concern. “What the hell, Reid?” Derek asked, his voice sharp with confusion but tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

Spencer was breathing heavily, steam practically pouring out of his ears as he glared at Derek. “Do you like her?” he snapped, his voice cracking with frustration.

Derek blinked, taken aback. “Who? Like who, Reid?”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted, his voice louder than he intended. “You keep touching her, and dancing with her, and laughing like—like you’re trying to be with her!”

Derek’s face softened in realization, and he held up his hands defensively, trying to calm Spencer down. “Whoa, whoa, kid,” Derek said slowly, his tone measured. “You think something’s going on with me and Y/N?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he struggled to control the emotions that had been brewing for so long. “I… I don’t know. I just—every time I see you with her, I can’t help but think you’re—”

Derek cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, it’s not like that. We’re friends. That’s it.”

But Spencer wasn’t ready to accept it. “Then why do you keep acting like that with her? I see it, Derek! You’re always laughing with her, touching her, like you’re… like you’re taking my place.”

Derek sighed, finally starting to understand what was bubbling beneath the surface. “Alright, Reid. What’s going on? ‘Taking your place’? You know Hotch was the one who reassigned us all. It’s just work, man.”

Spencer huffed in frustration, his foot kicking at the loose gravel beneath him. His mind raced, emotions swirling, but he couldn’t seem to piece together a coherent response. He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, about to snap, and it wasn’t just about work. He knew that much.

Derek watched him closely, reading the tension in Spencer’s body, the unease in his eyes. “That’s not what you meant, though, is it?” Derek questioned carefully, his tone soft but pressing for the truth.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed even further, his head dipping slightly as he tried to find the right words. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky with frustration. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to confront what was really bothering him. But he also couldn’t stand feeling like this—watching from the sidelines, seeing you with Derek, seeing you laugh and smile like he wasn’t even part of your life anymore.

Derek took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Spencer could hear. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, but he wasn’t accusing. He was just trying to get Spencer to open up, to confront whatever it was that had him spiraling.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, staring at the ground as his heart pounded. “I… I didn’t mean for there to be,” he admitted quietly, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know how to be around her anymore. Everything’s different, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “You care about her. More than you’re letting on.”

Spencer’s silence was answer enough. He cared about you deeply—more than he had ever allowed himself to admit, even to himself. And now, watching you get closer to Derek while he kept his distance, it felt like he was losing you, piece by piece.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse," Derek began, his voice steady and understanding. "I read the report, but I’m sure there were some forgotten details… stuff that can’t be put into words.” He paused for a moment, giving Spencer a chance to process what he was saying. “If there’s something you need to tell her, just do it, Reid. Y/N isn’t the type to laugh at you or shut you out.”

Spencer sniffled, the tears coming against his will, his emotions too raw to hold back any longer. “I... I know that,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. He wiped at his eyes, feeling small and overwhelmed. “I just want to go back to how things were,” he complained softly, his words sounding almost petulant, like a child wanting to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Derek’s heart softened at Spencer’s admission. He had seen this kind of pain before, knew how trauma could twist things, how it could fracture even the strongest of bonds. “That’s not gonna happen, kid,” Derek said with sympathy, shaking his head gently. “What happened to the two of you… that changes people. It changes the way you see the world, and it changes how you see each other.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words sink in. He knew Derek was right. He knew things had changed, that he had changed, and so had you. But hearing it made the ache in his chest sharper, more real.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t rebuild together,” Derek added, his voice hopeful. “It’s not about going back to how things were, Spencer. It’s about moving forward—together. You’ve both been through hell, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his eyes filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Derek shook his head, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only too late if you give up on her. Don’t wait until you lose her for good before you try to fix things. You care about her, Reid. She needs to hear that from you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding slightly, though the fear still gnawed at him. He didn’t know if he was ready, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had to find the courage to face you, to face what had changed, and to see if there was still a chance to rebuild the connection he had feared was lost forever.

After their tense conversation outside the bar, Spencer headed home, deciding it was best not to linger. He didn’t want to ruin your night by bringing up anything uncomfortable, and the idea of watching you dance with Derek—or worse, with other men—was too much for him. The weight of jealousy and regret was already suffocating, and he needed space to figure out what he was really feeling.

It turned out to be a good thing he left when he did. After Spencer and Derek stepped outside, you were approached by a very handsome, very suave man. He had an easy charm about him, the kind that made conversation flow effortlessly. His flirtatious smile and smooth lines quickly caught your attention, and for the first time in a while, you felt yourself relax, enjoying the moment without overthinking it.

One drink turned into two, and before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The man offered to take you home, and in the haze of alcohol and the desire to forget the complicated feelings with Spencer, you agreed. You didn’t want to think about what had been left unsaid, about the tension between you and Spencer, or how much everything had changed.

That night, you went home with the charming stranger, eager to escape the weight of the unresolved emotions that had been building for weeks. But in the back of your mind, even as you tried to lose yourself in someone new, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another way of avoiding what you were really feeling.

—

That one night started a fire inside you, one that you hadn’t realized had been smoldering beneath the surface for so long. The realization that—even if it was just for a fleeting moment—you were wanted, desired, was intoxicating. After everything that had happened with Spencer, after feeling rejected and unsure of yourself, it was refreshing to be wanted without complications or emotional baggage.

The feeling of being desired, even if only for one night at a time, ignited something within you. It gave you a sense of control, of freedom, and it felt good—so good—to be seen as someone worth chasing. So you leaned into it. You found your place in the hookup culture, where the rules were simple and the emotional weight was nonexistent. One night, one person, no strings attached.

And it was fun. The thrill of meeting someone new, the brief connection that didn’t require anything more than mutual attraction, gave you a rush. Sure, the expense of condoms and the constant reminder to stay on top of frequent STD testing was a minor annoyance, but it was worth it for the feeling of power and liberation that came with it.

You felt like you were finally getting your fix, like the hole that had been left after your complicated feelings with Spencer was being filled—albeit temporarily. It wasn’t about love or deep connection anymore. It was about reclaiming something for yourself, something you hadn’t realized you were missing. You had found an escape, and for now, that was enough.

But then, one day, you made a mistake—a slip of the tongue in the office. You weren’t necessarily trying to keep your new lifestyle a secret, but you hadn’t planned on making it common knowledge either. Your friends and coworkers didn’t need to know every detail of how you were trying to get over Spencer, how you had buried your hurt in casual flings to escape the complicated feelings lingering from the rejection.

It happened when Penelope asked about your weekend plans in the bullpen. You casually mentioned that you were busy, but the response sparked curiosity.

"Busy? With what?" JJ asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. As your close friend, she felt like she would have known if you had something going on. She sensed something was off.

You laughed awkwardly, realizing you had stepped into dangerous territory. "Uh, just... seeing a man."

Penelope's face lit up with excitement. "You have a date?" she asked, her glee impossible to hide.

"Not exactly..." you trailed off, hoping the conversation would end there, but you should’ve known better.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Little miss thing, do you have a scheduled booty call?" he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

Your face flushed fiercely, the blush creeping up your neck. The small, involuntary smile on your lips gave you away instantly, and before you could protest, Penelope squealed with delight, while JJ chuckled in surprise.

"Oh my god!" Penelope exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "You minx! Why didn’t you tell us?"

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just… you know… having some fun."

But what you didn’t notice was Spencer, who had overheard the entire conversation from across the bullpen. His face paled, and his heart sank as the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. You were seeing other people. You were sleeping with other men, and it was painfully clear—you were trying to get over him.

The girl he had always wanted—you—had wanted him back. That truth crashed into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for, and the weight of it left him standing frozen, unable to process how much he had lost. Spencer felt the deep ache of regret, gnawing at him with every word you spoke to your friends. You had moved on—or at least, you were trying to. And it was all because of him, because he had pushed you away when you had been vulnerable, honest, and open with him.

At that moment, Spencer couldn’t deny it any longer. He finally admitted it to himself—he wants you. He likes you. Maybe he even loves you. He always has.

The realization of what he had been running from all this time hit him harder than any unsub ever could. He had been too scared to face it, too afraid of messing things up between you, too unsure of how to handle his own feelings. But now, watching you laugh awkwardly with your coworkers about casual hookups and hearing how you were slipping further and further away from him, it became painfully clear—he had already messed things up.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing with the weight of what he'd been denying for so long. He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you laughed with, the one you came home to after a long day. He wanted to be more than your friend, more than someone you used to be close to. He wanted you in his life, in every possible way.

—

Spencer had always been on your speed dial—back when things were simpler, back when you called him almost every day, your friendship close and easy. So when his phone buzzed after 11 p.m. on a Saturday, his first instinct wasn’t concern. But after everything that had happened between the two of you lately, the timing made him uneasy. This wasn’t normal anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in weeks, not like this, and certainly not at this hour.

His heart pounded as he grappled for the phone, his mind racing. If you were calling him this late, something had to be wrong. He didn’t hesitate for a second, fumbling to answer as quickly as possible, already imagining the worst. “Y/N?” he called out into the phone, his voice tense with worry. “Y/N, are you okay?”

But instead of your voice answering, what he heard stopped him cold.

It was faint at first, a muffled noise, but as he strained to listen, the unmistakable sounds of… pain? groaning? It left him on edge, his panic rising. His mind raced, thinking the worst—had you been hurt? Were you in danger? He called your name again, louder, more frantic this time. “*Y/N!*”

But still, no response from you. Just the sounds, growing clearer, louder.

And then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Through the haze of sounds on the other end, he heard a man’s voice, moaning your name.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned painfully, his stomach twisting. You hadn’t called him on purpose. You had buttdialled him during a hookup. The groans, the noises that he had thought were of pain—they weren’t what he had feared. They were… something entirely different.

His hands shook as he stared at the phone, the pit in his stomach growing. He could hear everything, the intimacy, the passion—things that weren’t meant for him, things he should never have been privy to. The knowledge of what was happening, of who was with you right now, left him reeling.

He hung up, the phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Spencer sat there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. It was the harshest reminder of what he had lost, of what he had pushed away. You were moving on. You were finding comfort in someone else. And here he was, on the other end of a phone call that was never meant to be made.

For the first time, Spencer felt the full weight of what he had done. He had pushed you away, too scared to face his own feelings, and now he was watching—no, hearing—you slip further away from him. The girl he had always wanted, the one who had wanted him, was now with someone else. And all he could do was sit there, helpless, with the sharp, bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue.

—

You were blissfully unaware that you had called Spencer the night before. After a fun, carefree night with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember, you woke up feeling satisfied and content. It wasn’t until the next day, when you went to call Penelope, that your heart stopped. Staring at your call log, your eyes widened in horror as you saw the call to Spencer. A call that had lasted for several minutes.

You quickly checked the time. It had definitely been when you and what’s his name were together. Oh god. A pit formed in your stomach as the realization hit you—did Spencer hear anything? Your mind raced, mortified by the idea. You hadn’t spoken to him much lately, and now, this? It was beyond awkward.

By Monday morning, you were terrified to face Spencer. The embarrassment gnawed at you, and the thought of seeing him after that accidental call made your stomach churn. When you arrived at the office, you tried to keep your head down, praying the situation would somehow blow over. But as soon as you made it to your desk, Spencer stormed over, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his voice tense, “a word.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You nodded silently, following Spencer into the hall, the weight of what you feared was coming making it hard to breathe.

Before he could speak, you blurted out, “Listen, Spencer, I’m sorry—” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was grappling with something—whether to be angry, hurt, or simply frustrated. “You called me,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else you couldn’t quite place. “I heard... a lot.”

Your heart sank even further. He did hear. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you said quickly, desperate to explain. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Just…” Spencer interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. His voice was quieter now, but the tension between you was palpable. “Please don’t do that again. It was horribly uncomfortable.”

You winced, guilt washing over you. The last thing you had ever wanted was to make Spencer feel that way. “I’m really sorry, Spencer,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t realize I had called you. If I had known...”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “I know. It’s just… hearing that, knowing what was happening, it was…” He trailed off, the words hanging unfinished in the air.

"It was what?" you pressed, sensing that Spencer was leaving something unsaid, something important.

Spencer glanced away, his expression tense, and then, as if the weight of his feelings could no longer be held back, he blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

You blinked in disbelief. “Jealous?” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, confusion swirling in your mind. How could he be jealous after everything that had happened between you two?

“Yeah, Y/N,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze clear now. “I was jealous.”

You shook your head, still baffled by his confession. “Spencer, you rejected me,” you reminded him, your voice sharper than you intended. The hurt from that moment still stung, and hearing him say he was jealous felt like a twisted irony.

“I know,” he said quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what you said or what I was feeling, and I pushed you away. But hearing you with someone else, knowing you’ve moved on… it hit me harder than I expected.”

You stood there, staring at him, processing his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much his rejection had hurt you. But another part of you, the part that had always cared for Spencer, softened at the sight of him so open, so raw with his emotions.

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentler now, “you don’t get to be jealous. Not after everything. You made your choice.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes full of regret. “And it was the wrong choice. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you—until it was too late.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air between you.

“Well, I’m sorry it took you so long to realize it,” you said, the hurt still lingering in your voice despite the calm exterior you tried to maintain.

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression full of regret. “Me too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you then, his eyes filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say before, the weight of his hesitation clear now that the truth was out.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the hurt and confusion swirling around inside your chest. This was what you had wanted once—to hear Spencer admit that he had made a mistake. But now that it was happening, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you for good.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was no quick fix for what had happened between you. His apology was genuine, but the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know what to say, Spencer,” you admitted. “I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt, or that everything can just go back to how it was.”

“I understand,” he said softly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. And that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that. But this doesn’t change everything.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours once more. “But maybe… maybe it’s not too late to figure it out. If you’re willing.”

You hesitated, the rawness of the conversation still fresh. You didn’t know if you could open that door again—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll see, Spencer,” you said softly. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the conversation hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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fangirl-writes · 11 months ago

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Tell me you want this

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Stilinski!Reader

Warning(s): canon-level stuff, blood, making out, mentions of sex

Summary: In a life that is constantly on the move, you appreciate the small moments much more. Especially if they're with Isaac.

"It'll just heal in a few minutes, you know," Isaac said.

"I know," you replied, sitting on his bed next to him.

You pulled a baby wipe from its package and held Issac's chin between your thumb and forefinger, moving his head to look him over.

It had been a particularly bad fight, for everyone. The kind of fight where you needed the rest of the night to just heal; physically, mentally, emotionally.

And, of course, you wouldn't let Isaac do it on his own.

You began wiping at a spot on his face, gliding the cloth over the apple of his cheek.

"If Stiles finds out about this, he's gonna be upset," Isaac said, watching your face contort as you worked.

"Yeah, well," you moved his head to the other side, frowning at the mention of your brother. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

You and Isaac had known each other forever. Being in the same grade, it would’ve been hard not to notice one another, but even besides that you had a connection. You were sort of friends.

Not the kind that hung out outside of school, but the loners who ate lunch under the bleachers and spent free periods in the library.

You also covered for him whenever he wasn’t in school, finding out about his home life after his dad had a particularly bad day.

You’d cleaned him up then, too.

Isaac gently grabbed your wrist, "and Derek-"

"Derek's not gonna hurt me."

You'd long since perfected sneaking into Derek's loft to see Isaac. You suspected that he knew you were there. Being a seasoned werewolf, you were sure he could hear the extra heartbeat, if not smell your scent.

But you didn't care, and clearly neither did he.

But Isaac? Isaac cared.

Ever since he became a werewolf, and you were further pulled into the bullshit that came along with that, he’d been protective in a way he hadn’t before.

You weren’t sure if it was a wolf thing or if Isaac felt some kind of obligation to you. Either way, you wouldn’t let him keep you out of it.

Tossing the wipe in the trash, you put your hand to his now clean cheek. "Relax."

He eyed you for a long moment, searching, before he took a deep breath and leaned into your touch.

The shape of his jaw pressed into your palm, his hand wrapping around your wrist gently, as if just to touch you.

Silence surrounded you, only the sound of your heartbeats and breathing cutting through.

That and the tension that hung palpably in the small space between you.

"You know," he pulled at the new hole in his shirt. "I think you better get this one, too."

You smiled, shaking your head. "I guess I better."

He wasted no time in pulling the material over his head and tossing it somewhere else in the room, making you laugh.

You scooted closer to him, crossing your legs under you and pulling another wipe from the package.

"Oh, Isaac," you said, taking in the wound. "It must've hurt."

He shrugged. "You'd be surprised how much the adrenaline can mask...and I'm used to pain."

He was so close now, close enough you could feel his breath on your cheek as you cleaned him up.

You focused on the task at hand because if you didn't, you'd notice the way he was staring at you. And you weren't sure what you'd do if you met his eyes.

He was fitter than he used to be, the tone of his chest and abs more prominent, his arms more muscular.

You unconsciously lifted your other hand to drag it down his chest.

He shivered under your touch. "Y/N..."

You swallowed, stilling your hand on his shoulder as you continued to clean him up.

"Y/N," he said again, making you look up at him.

His eyes were already on you, as you suspected, looking at you with so much intensity you wondered what he was thinking.

"Yes?"

He was so beautiful, especially this close.

You could see every line on his face, every freckle, every mole. The sculpt of his nose, the part of his lips. The dim light made the blue of his eyes seem darker, or maybe that was just the way he was looking at you.

He lightly pushed down your hand that had stilled on his chest so that he could lean closer, brushing his nose against yours.

"Tell me you want this."

His breath fanned your lips, and you sucked in a breath. "Isaac-"

"I can hear your heartbeat," he said. "I can tell how nervous you are...don't be. Tell me you want this."

You released the breath, shakily. "Yes. Yes, please, kiss me."

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours.

You kissed him back, hesitantly. So hesitantly that he stopped, but didn't go far, allowing you the power to continue if you wanted. And you did.

More confidently this time, you kissed him. And he kissed you back.

You didn't realize how much you'd wanted this until now. How kissing him felt akin to breathing; natural, easy, like if you stopped, you might die.

It was a natural progression that he pulled you closer by your waist, his hands rough but gesture gentle, slow.

Your hands slid their way over the shape of his arms, then shoulders, then neck before they finally stopped to tangled themselves in his hair.

He hummed into your mouth, dragging his tongue over your bottom lip, and you parted them. His tongue slid over yours, experimentally, trying to find a rhythm.

You tugged against his hair.

That caused him to moan.

His fingers were ghosting just under your shirt when-

"Isaac, I need you to- oh my god."

You jumped apart, faces burning, as Derek stood in the doorway of Isaac's room.

It was pointless to try to look innocent, Isaac was shirtless for Christ's sake.

"Okay, I've clearly let this go on too long, I don't need you having sex in here."

"We weren't going to have sex!" Isaac protested, and you hid your face in your hands.

"Maybe not yet," Derek replied, crossing his arms. "How'd you get here anyway?"

"Walked," you replied sheepishly.

"Great, now I'm going to have to take you home. They're going to think I've kidnapped you."

"I can walk home."

"After that fight today? I'm surprised you made it here, let alone getting back."

"I can take her back," Isaac offered.

"And have you get busy in my car? Yeah, no, thanks."

"We wouldn't-" Isaac groaned. "Fine."

"Let's go. Now."

Too embarrassed to protest, you stood and followed Derek out the door.

Boyd and Erica were sitting in the main room and looked at you with wide eyes when they saw you come out of Isaac's room.

Great, you thought. Now it looks like a walk of shame.

"Y/N, wait."

You turned as Isaac came out of his room, holding your jacket in his hand.

"You, uh, forgot this," he said, blushing as everyone looked at him.

Face hot, you took it from him. "Thanks."

You put it on as Derek grabbed his keys and the two of you disappeared out the door.

Then Boyd and Erica's eyes drifted back to Isaac.

"...what?"

Erica split into a grin. "So, Stilinski, huh?"

"Shut up."

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago

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this has been sittin in my drafts for so long lol

chewing my fingers off like bubble gum thinking about childhood best friend katsuki scaring off all the other guys he thinks have a crush on you bc in his mind you’re already dating. (he’s also too shy to ask you out.)

in his defense, you’ve been together for so long you might as well be dating. katsuki prides himself in the fact he knows quite literally everything about you : how you like your eggs, what you like on your toast, your favorite tv show and movie, not to be confused with your comfort movie, which he also knows. your exact order from the coffee shop down the street from your apartment complex and your favorite flavor of chapstick. he knows all of these little things and even other insignificant facts by heart, but he’s so proud of the fact that those other pricks could never know you better than he does.

he bets those losers who ogle you like cavemen don’t even remember your name, lest they even know it in the first place. just thinking about you dating anyone that isn’t him makes him grimace, has him gritting his teeth n’ veins popping.

he damn near acts like your boyfriend too and it’s definitely not by accident. katsuki knows he wants you and he wants you—and others to know he does, too. he walks you to and from class, drapes his arm around your shoulder, makes you lunch and he’s overall just very clingy. you’ve had to explain multiple times that he in fact was not your boyfriend, much to your chagrin. (and his too) simply claiming you’re really close because you’ve known each other since you were in diapers. katsuki calls bullshit, ever since he was 5 he knew you were the one for him. he’d go around telling your parents you’d get married when you both grew up and he sure as hell plans to keep his word.

and katsuki knows it’s bad, he knows he shouldn’t, but he waits for the guy he seen you talking with after school. he’s been talking to you more often, even offering to walk you to class, so fuckin’ chivalrous. thankfully for him, you didn’t seem to like him much.

“hey.” he grunts, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder, watching his face contort as steam comes out of from under his hand “yn doesn't like you, fuckface. so i suggest ya back off an’ quit whatever the fuck you’re tryin’ to do with her.” he’s gripping onto his shoulder harder unconsciously and the guy tries brushing him off, sputtering and desperately looking for an excuse and katsuki’s having none of it. “listen.” he growls “cut the bullshit. i know you want her, can tell from a mile away ya fuckin’ do.” he snarls, lip curling up in disgust “ but do that shit from a distance, f’ i see you lookin’ at her like that again i’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth in."

he shoves the guy away and he’s already off like nothing happened. he’s already wasted enough time with this loser and he can’t wait to see you because tonight’s movie night and he knows you’ll just watch your favorite movie for the umpteenth time, but he really couldn’t care less, whatever makes his baby happy.

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lieutnt · 1 year ago

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a commission for @chxrrylime

beta/alpha!male reader x omega!john price x omega!simon "ghost" riley summary: price and ghost help you with your first rut after your sudden change from a beta to an alpha. warnings: nsfw, minors dni. omegaverse, brief illness, threesome, knotting, creampies. sorry for the delay on this! had it like 80% written by saturday and then i had a time the next few days. i got carried away with the word count so oops.

Price was normally resistant to others being assigned to his task force, but when your file found its way on his desk curiosity got the better of him. Not just because you were a Beta, although that did help his willingness to accept you, but because you filled a hole in the team. Your skills and training had rounded out the task force, being a Beta was an added bonus.

There was still lingering doubt in Price’s mind, but weeks after you had joined and Gaz went into heat you offered to help. You had been the perfect carer - staying with him the entire time and making sure he was fed, hydrated and happy. Afterwards Gaz had privately gushed about you to the rest of the 141, unable to think of a time when his heat had gone so smoothly. You had repeated the process with Soap and Price, both getting to experience your gentle touch first hand, and even Ghost had let you help him.

After months of working with the team Price had begun to notice some changes in your behaviour. You were more on edge when the 141 worked with other soldiers, hesitating to leave them alone if an Alpha was in the room. He picked up on you offering the others food from your own plate if they complained they were still hungry, despite the fact that you’d barely even finished half of yours. You even began developing a stronger scent, something different from when you had first joined.

Worry filled his mind when one day Gaz & Soap had barged into his office, panicking about how they couldn’t wake you. Once Price had joined them in running to your room he was immediately calling for a medic, your body covered in a sheen of sweat, barely responsive to their attempts at rousing you. They each took their turns pacing outside your room once you had been taken to a hospital, the doctor’s unsure what was happening to you. You had stayed like that for days, a fever wracking your body and unconscious as change forced its way through your veins.

Price had been elated when he received the phone call that you were awake, but once the 141 had gathered at the hospital they were ushered into a separate room before they could see you. A doctor was already waiting for them, a look of concern on her face.

An Alpha. They couldn’t wrap their head around it, you had changed into an Alpha. The doctor had tried to explain how in very rare cases something like this can happen but they were too shocked to absorb anything she was explaining. Soap & Gaz appeared unbothered, more concerned with wanting to see you but one look between Price and Ghost and they knew they were thinking similarly.

Filing into your room they were hit with a wave of pheromones you didn’t know you were releasing, a deep down part of them stirring when your scent immediately turned relaxed at seeing them, Soap and Gaz not hesitating to give you hugs as Ghost lingered on the outside of the group while Price simply placed a hand on your shoulder, “It’s good to see you lad,” he said, attempting to bury the worry threading through his mind.

The doctors advised you be taken back to your home base so that’s what they did, alongside the thought that they’d have to explain certain things to you. You weren’t dumb - you knew how Alphas worked, but knowing and doing were two very different things. You had to rely on someone else telling you when you were stinking up the room with Alpha smell, or when you easily slipped back into your old routine except this time it appeared more like courting than caring, and Price and Ghost, as the most experienced, could see how your new heightened senses were weighing on you, struggling in the presence of four omegas.

—

Waking up you were confused at your state, your senses acting as if they had a personal vendetta against you, and you were even more confused when Gaz had taken one look at you and escorted you back to your room as if you were a scared animal, telling you to sit while he fetched Price. 15 minutes later Price and Ghost stepped through your door, shutting it behind them as Price sat next to you. “Do you know what’s happening lad?”

You didn’t know, brain struggling to conjure up any ideas without being distracted by the smell of omega. Swallowing heavily, you shook your head, “No sir.”

Ghost spoke up, “Think you’re going into rut.” He remained leaning against the wall, gaze locked on you.

Brows furrowing you used what brain power you had left to think it over. It matched with the experiences you had heard from other Alphas, but- “I don’t have anything prepared,” you mumbled, brain ticking with what would follow the next few days.

Price had a faint smile on his face, hand resting on your shoulder for reassurance. “We know, which is why, if you want, we think it’s our turn to help you.”

The air sharpened with arousal and you heard Ghost’s faint scoff of laughter, “Think he likes that idea, boss.”

Price’s hand slid from your shoulder to around the back of your neck, forcing you to turn your head and face him. “Only if you want,” he reiterated, thumb gently stroking the back of your neck.

Blood was already pooling south, your cock twitching in its confines at the idea of having them both underneath you. You didn’t realise you had been thinking about it for so long until Price briefly tightened his grip, bringing you back to the present. Nodding your head eagerly, your eyes flicked between Price and Ghost, “Please.”

—

Sinking into Ghost’s hole felt nothing short of heavenly, the warmth of his walls pulsing to ease your way in and steadily melting your brain, your mouth dropping open to release an airy moan once you were buried as deep as you could go. Just enough awareness was flickering behind your eyes to start slow, gently rocking your hips while Ghost adjusted to the stretch of your cock.

Price was by your side, cautiously watching your movements to make sure you didn’t go too rough before Ghost was ready. As soon as your hips punched forwards unexpectedly Price was slanting his mouth against yours, distracting you from your impatience as Ghost grunted from the force. The smell of not one but two aroused omegas had your alpha preening, deepening the kiss with Price and lowly growling as your hand encased the back of his head to hold him close, only parting when Ghost began to roll his hips back and forth.

Your hands fell to Ghost’s hips, guiding his movements as each of your thrusts grew faster and harder until skin was slapping against skin, vision tunnelling as your pupils dilated, only focused on the omega around your cock and the breed, mate, instinct that was swirling in your mind.

Pushing Ghost down you surged over him, covering his body with yours as your teeth skated across his back, barely resisting the temptation to bite and mark him, to let the world know who he belonged to, whose bed he was warming. Price was by your side again, kissing at your neck and shushing your half-growls, attempting to soothe the possessive claim. His hands ran across your body, one stroking through your hair while the other never stopped moving, letting you know he was there.

Your pace never faltered, even as Ghost began warning you he was close, cock bobbing against his stomach at your thrusts while his moans grew faster and faster until his body seized, muscles trembling as he painted the bed under him with his release. Once out of the floating of his climax Ghost could feel the beginnings of your knot catching on his rim, the bulb steadily growing with each of your frantic thrusts as his knees buckled, sending him flat against the bed as the tension thrumming through your body finally snapped, knot punching its way past his rim and locking you together.

It was like a dam had burst, his insides flooded with your cum as your hips stuttered, a chest rattling growl crawling its way out of your throat. Despite the fact that you couldn’t thrust you instead grinded against Ghost, cock twitching with each pulse of cum that his fluttering walls milked from you. After a lifetime of minutely jerking your hips you finally slumped against Ghost, growls replaced with heavy breaths and a rumbling purr as you rolled to your side, bringing Ghost with you and hugging him to your chest. Burrowing your nose into the back of his neck your alpha was temporarily satiated at your scent mixing with Ghost’s.

Faintly, you heard Price speak up. “You ok Simon?”

Ghost was breathing as heavily as you, voice hoarse and dry, “Mhm, just-” he gasped almost silently as your hips twitched, knot tugging against his rim, “full,” he huffed, bearing his teeth as you began to grow restless.

Price’s attention quickly switched to you, hand wiping the sweat-coated hair off your forehead, “What’s the matter lad?” After attempting and failing to pull out of Ghost your hand hurried downwards, finger prodding at his tightened rim until it could push inside and separate you enough to pull your knot out. As much as you wanted to lean down and tongue your cum back into his hole your brain had other ideas, body surging up to Price and licking into his mouth while you pushed him onto his back, pupils blown wide.

Price watched curiously as you nipped down his throat and chest, “Gotta breed you,” you slurred, eyes half-lidded and cock hard and ready between your legs. He released a steadying breath, hole twitching at your eagerness.

His head rolled back on his shoulders as two of your fingers poked at his entrance, easily sliding in with the preparation you had done earlier and the mixture of his own slick. Before you could get too lost and overstimulate him and yourself Price pulled you back up to his lips with a hand in your hair, ignoring the noise of discontent you made and kissing you again, reaching down to align your tip with his hole. If it was another time and place he would’ve laughed at how easily you crumbled, but as your cock slipped inside him he groaned against your mouth, letting his body rock with your thrusts.

—

When Price and Ghost first emerged from your room once your rut was over Soap and Gaz tried their best to look unfazed, pointedly ignoring the way they were both stretching out sore muscles. “He ok?” Gaz asked, eyes attempting to search for you and noticing your absence.

Price nodded, “Just showering.”

Always the bolder of the two Soap couldn’t help but question, “How was it?” At Gaz’s pointed look he shrugged, “As if ye weren’t wonderin’.”

Price huffed amusingly, fingers scratching through his sideburns, “Think we’ll have our hands full with him.”

#john price #john price x male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #john price x simon ghost riley x male reader #top male reader #male reader #top reader #omegaverse #call of duty #lieutnts writing #lieutnts commissions

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kokonoiis · 6 months ago

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gentle lover── pt. 1 ❝ his favorite place to kiss you ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. k. hajime, i. seishu, m. chifuyu, h. ran, h. rindou. h. shuji Ⅱ. blurbs Ⅲ. tw. the haitaini brothers are asses, reader is shorter than hanma. Ⅳ. a/n. i'm writin my faves to get into the groove of it !! gonna try to include as many of the main characters as i possibly can in this short little series since it's easy to write and good practice

── kokonoi hajime. nape of your neck hajime hates standing in front of people, so he's almost always standing behind you, his watchful gaze always scanning the area for any lingering threats no matter how peaceful the world may seem around you. he just wants the best for you, that much he knows for certain. he worries too much, that you'll be taken away from him before he's really had a chance to protect you, and this overprotectiveness manifests in several different ways. but sometimes, when he's absolutely sure that the two of you are safe, and you're well protected, he'll lean forward, arms lazily wrapping around your waist, pulling himself closer. you can feel just how much he needed the contact by the grip on you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, as if he were trying to memorize everything about you. almost without thinking, his soft lips find the skin of the back of your neck, pressing kisses along your nape until the stress in his body has relaxed. you can feel him smile against your skin as you lean into his touch, needing him just as much as he needed you. he lets his kisses tell you exactly how much he loves you.

── inui seishu. hand seishu is a man known for just using a few words to get his point across, but no one can deny that he's absolutely a gentleman when he wants to be. and for you, he wants to be a gentleman all the time. his rough around the edges and blunt personality are no match for how happy he is when he gets to see you smile a truly happy smile, so he finds himself softening just slightly around you, more so for anyone else. he greets you the exact same no matter where you are or what you're doing, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your hand. it's so sweet, and never fails to bring that smile to your face, which is exactly what he's aiming for. if he can start off every interaction with you smiling, then he knows that he's done a good job as your boyfriend. and now, with your hand in his, he has a perfect excuse to link your fingers together so the two of you aren't separated. doing small things like this has become an unconscious act for him. loving you has become something of a necessity for him.

── matsuno chifuyu. cheek chifuyu prides himself on being a cool and reliable partner, or at least, he tries his hardest to be. he wants to be someone you can lean on when you've had a hard day, someone who can make you cheer you up even on the worst days. he's driven by a sense of right and wrong, wanting to do good for the people around him, and of course, you were the most important person in his life for him. he knew that he could be sarcastic sometimes, and even with as sweet as he tried to be, sometimes his words came out the wrong way, so he didn't like to lean too hard into his words all the way. sometimes all that was necessary was a silly little gesture. the one that he was most fond of himself was to take your face with both of his hands and pepper kisses all along your cheeks until you were nothing but a giggling, blushy mess for him. it made his own face flush up, watching you squirm and try not to laugh as you were bombarded with millions of little kisses all around your perfect face. to him, nothing was better than seeing you laugh like this.

── haitani ran. temple ran likes to surprise you with simple little surprises. he enjoys the way you jump slightly if he sneaks up on you, and the way you glare his way if he's done something a little too silly for your liking. a secret joy of his is the way that he loves you when he thinks you aren't prepared for it, because he's always so stupidly in love with you. he likes feeling your body tense and then relax as his arms find their way around your body, instinctually calmed down just by his presence. he'll hold you like this for as long as possible, whether that's two minutes or two hours, it makes no difference to him. just being able to have that contact with you for any amount of time is a good time for him. he'll lean over, nuzzle your cheek slightly, sorta like a cat almost, before kissing there. and he'll kiss everywhere he can reach. your cheek, forehead, neck, anywhere. but he always goes back to your temple, holding himself for a moment there so he could feel your heartbeat against his skin, the way it quickens just for him. he loves knowing that he has this kind of affect on you, and he'll never take it for granted.

── haitani rindou. corner of mouth rindou finds it so silly how easy it is to rile you up. its as if no matter what he does, he's always going to find a way to annoy you even just a little bit, and that definitely holds true when he's being all lovey dovey with you. he can't help himself, he just loves the way your eyebrows knit together and that adorable pout on your lips when he does something he knows will annoy you just a touch. he'll give you what you want, he always does, but he likes making you at least ask for it, sometimes more if he's feeling a little more devious than normal. when kissing you, he always makes it a point to kiss you everywhere except for where you want to be kissed. first your forehead, then your nose, then your jawline, then your cheek. and finally, when you've asked him enough times to kiss you on your lips, he'll kiss the very corner of your mouth, just barely any contact at all. it never fails to make you whine just a little bit, sometimes you'll even take it upon yourself to kiss him if you're fed up enough with his crap. he thinks it's adorable, and he has no intention of stopping.

── hanma shuji. top of head shuji loves that he can rest his head on top of yours pretty easily. nothing like having his partner in his arms as they chatted about nothing in particular, watching the world around them. he's an unabashed lover, it would take a lot more than anything you could do to embarrass him, and he most certainly wasn't embarrassed about holding what was his, especially if he were in front of other people. but it's not always around other people, either. sometimes he's just at home with you, with you sat in between his legs on the couch, and his slender arms wrapped around your frame, his chin resting on top of your head. he'll mumble something about how you can't sit still, but he makes no movement to try to get you away from him. instead, he picks his head up, and leans down slightly, gently kissing your scalp. it's such a tender moment for a man like him, who prides himself on being someone unpredictable and wild. but it does never fail to earn a surprised little gasp from you, so he supposes it still counts.

──kokonoiis 2024

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peterm4rker · 22 days ago

Text

(❆⋆.˚) christmas miracle !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [jaemin x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.3k w. cursing, slight angst, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

august 22nd, 2019

“jaem?” you called out, your voice barely a whisper as your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat among the comfortable silence. he hummed in response, his hand continuing its caresses in your hair. “i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you mumbled, voice on the verge of breaking.

you felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh “i know” your boyfriend answered, his tone matching yours.

“i love you” you said, unconsciously cuddling closer to him as if you were scared of letting go. you were, because you knew that if you did it would be the last time you would be this close to him in a very long time.

“i know” he repeated as he held you closer “i love you too, and i’m sorry”

“i know” you mimicked, rising from your previous position while still sitting close to him “i don’t doubt that you love me, jaem, it's just… i can’t go on with a relationship where you disappear for a week and then call me like nothing happened.” your hand found his, your fingers intertwining. “i love you, but you’re not opening up to me and i can’t understand why you do the things that you do.”

jaemin listened attentively, his heart breaking further with each of your words. he knew it was true, all of it, but he wasn’t capable of talking about what was going on when he couldn’t even understand it himself. he felt embarrassed to tell you that there were days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed to eat, much less to grab his phone to call you. when two days had gone back with zero contact and he felt a little better, he was way too ashamed to reach out and just waited long enough that he could pretend he hadn’t spent days crying on his bed for no reason.

he loved you more than anything in the world, more than he loved himself, even. he also knew you would never shame him for feeling the way he did, but you would worry. you would put aside your life to help him get his back, and he could never ask you to do that, he loved you too much.

“you deserve so much better,” he spoke after a few seconds of silence, his free hand moving to cup your cheek. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be what i promised you to be”

“you were everything and more” you smiled sadly, feeling your eyes burning with tears “i need you to promise me something”

“what is it, love?” he mumbled as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“if you still want me when the time is right, promise you will call me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out” the tone of your words was so serious that it left no doubt on him that you meant every one of them.

“i promise i will” he gave you a weak smile, moving his hand to place it in front of you and extending his pinky finger towards you.

you interlaced your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to kiss it and seal the promise. “i should go home now,” you said weakly, tearing your hands apart from each other to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

jaemin wanted to beg you to stay, at least until the morning so he could hold you through one more night. but he couldn’t, he knew too well that one more night would make you back away from your decision and he couldn’t hurt you any further.

“want me to drive you?” he asked, his hand feeling cold without your warmth.

“i’ll get an uber, don’t worry” you gave him a sad smile as you grabbed your bag from the floor before walking towards him and cupping his cheek, crouching slightly to place your forehead against his. “i love you”

“i love you more” he answered, a single tear escaping his eyes as he looked at you one last time before you walked out of his room for the last time.

…

december 18th, 2024

jaemin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he walked out of his friends’ apartment. it had been an afternoon full of laughter and happiness, one of the many that had slowly healed his heart over the years. he waved goodbye to jeno, who was getting into his car to drive home. he had offered him a ride, but jaemin felt the need to walk in the cold weather, it wasn’t that long of a walk to his apartment.

even when he had been as happy as he had, he couldn’t deny that watching his friends be coupley and cute had struck a nerve he didn’t even know he had. he didn’t know he wanted all of that, someone to tease, to kiss and to have stupid ugly sweater competitions with, but he did, and that could only mean one thing. he was ready, and the time was finally right.

that’s how he found himself standing at the edge of the river, overlooking the scenery as his thumb hovered over the call button. he stared at his phone screen as he chewed at the inside of his lip, he never deleted the picture he had for your contact; a picture of 19 year old you with your cheeks being squished by his large hand.

he smiled at the sight, feeling his heart squeeze with a mixture of nostalgia and guilt. would you still want him to contact you even though it had been five years since you broke things off?

“ i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out”

your voice resonated in his head and his hand moved on its own to press the button that had been haunting him for the past five minutes. he took the phone up to his ear, trying his hardest to breathe properly and maintain his calm as the tone ringed.

what if you had changed your phone number? what if you had a partner? what if you simply didn’t want to hear from him after this long? what if he had changed way too much for you? what if-

“hello?” his thoughts were cut off by a voice on the other line. your voice. “hi?” you asked again, and he had to snap off of his thoughts.

“yn” he blurted out, his voice sounding completely breathless. he didn’t expect you to know who it was, but he didn’t seem to be able to say anything else. there was silence for a couple of seconds, and he thought he heard your breath hitch.

“jaemin?” you spoke, sounding as if you had just gotten a call from a ghost.

“yeah, it's me” he breathed out, cautious with his words. he couldn’t say he wasn’t completely scared shitless in that moment.

“hi” you answered, and he could hear the smile on your astonished voice.

“hi” shit, he really had to start talking more. “you didn’t change your phone number” no shit.

“i didn’t” you spoke “you did”

“i changed a lot of things” the boy spoke, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips.

“you kept my contact” you remarked, and he couldn’t understand how he could be so happy even when his heart was about to fall out of his ass.

“i promised i would call you” if i still wanted you. “so here i am, i hope it's not too late”

“it’s not” you assured, feeling speechless at how he had actually called you.

“good. uhm, i was wondering if you’d like to come get coffee with me sometime” he asked, his hand going to scratch the nape of his nape as it did when he was nervous.

“i would love that, just tell me when” a smile took over his face immediately, feeling incredibly grateful to whatever saint had made you the nicest, most beautiful soul that could’ve ever stepped foot on earth.

“is tomorrow too soon?” he asked softly, knowing that his request was a little greedy, but he had spent five years without hearing your voice and he didn’t think he could stop now.

jaemin heard you chuckle from the other line “no, it’s no” he almost cheered at the sound of your voice “wanna meet at sunrise café at like 11?”

“of course, that’s perfect” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him “do you need me to pick you up?”

“nah, i work just around the corner” you answered, being followed by silence. the boy didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t trust himself to say anything else without going overboard. “i'll see you there then?”

“yeah, i’ll see you there” he said, being sure that you could hear his smile in his voice. “bye, yn”

“bye, jaem” you said before hanging up. fuck, he had missed the way his name sounded when you said it.

…

jaemin found himself sitting in a booth inside the café you had agreed to meet in. nostalgia was flooding his body, remembering all the times you had sat on that same seat when you were together. as the minutes passed, he began to feel uneasy. had you planned on standing him up as revenge for all the times he did all those years ago? no, you weren’t like that at all. maybe you had forgotten?

“hi” his attention was called back into reality by your voice again. he lifted his eyes to meet yours, and he could have screamed right then and there. he had always thought you couldn’t get prettier than you were, but he had no idea what he was talking about. the woman that stood in front of him was a work of art, an angel that was blessing him with the ability to look at her.

“yn, hi” he muttered breathlessly as he stood up. he was too stunned to know what to do now that he had you in front of him. you smiled at him and he felt his heart stop, you were fucking unreal. “here, go ahead” he muttered as he politely moved a chair back for you to sit, causing you to thank him.

“it’s nice to see you after so long” you said once you were sitting in front of each other.

“it is” he smiled, still trying to calm his racing heart ��five years is a really long time, i’m sorry i didn’t contact you sooner” his smile turned apologetic “i was in a really rough spot, but i’m better now”

“there’s nothing to apologize for” you reassured “you needed time, i understood that” jaemin felt like he could start crying on the spot. you had always been so understanding and warm, even when he didn’t deserve it at all. “now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“well, i’m a photographer now” he said, marking the beginning to a long, overdue conversation about life through the last five years.

hours passed with both of you sitting in the coffee shop, long enough for you to feel bad about being there for so long and deciding to go on a walk along the river bank, seemingly not getting enough of each other’s company.

“so yeah, that didn’t really work out” you shrugged as you concluded your story about your last boyfriend, who jaemin had asked about very casually.

“he sounds like an asshole” he chimed in, eliciting a laugh to escape your lips.

“he kind of was, yeah” you had to agree, nodding softly. “i’m glad that’s over, to be honest”

“i’m glad it’s over, too,” jaemin blurted out, his eyes widening slightly at the realisation of the implication of his words.

you raised your eyebrows with an amused smile “i’m sure you are”

…

it had been a little under a week since you and jaemin had reconnected, and he could say that he had never felt so happy in his life. he knew you felt the same, he could see it in your smile and your shiny eyes.

“so yeah, i was going to go visit family but i got snowed in in seoul” you shrugged your shoulders as you recounted your failed christmas plans. “same thing happened to my cousin, it’s like a curse.”

jaemin listened intently as he looked at your pretty face, an idea popping into his head “you could come spend christmas with my friends and i” his voice was nervous, unsure of if he was moving too fast.

“are you still friends with jeno and them?” you asked, and he nodded, causing you to smile. you took a few seconds to weigh out your options, coming into a conclusion rather quickly. “then i would love to”

jaemin smiled brightly as he continued walking, his hand slowly reaching for yours as he interlaced your fingers wordlessly.

…

“this is crazy, i would never have thought i would see you together again” jeno spoke as he watched you and jaemin sitting next to each other on heachan’s couch, a little too close for it to be casual.

“some things change and others stay the same” you shrugged, smiling sweetly as you turned your head to look at jaemin, who was already staring at you.

“this is sickeningly sweet, i'm gonna go help in the kitchen” the taller boy grimaced, standing up to walk away, leaving you and jaemin alone in the living room.

“i don’t think we stayed the same, you know” he commented, looking at you with lovesick eyes. “i would never do the things i did back then without giving you an explanation”

“promise?” you asked, a smile on your perfect lips as you extended your pinky towards him.

“promise” he answered, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss to seal the promise.

you mimicked his action and wordlessly stared into his eyes, marvelled at the way the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, looking just like stars.

it was surreal to be there with him after so long, but it was the perfect christmas miracle.

★ blue's corner ;; another part of of my christmas special with my first ever nct dream bias... i hope you like it ! this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

#na jaemin #nct dream #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin #nana #jaemin drabbles #🕸🕷✮⋆˙ love actually !!#🕸🕷✮⋆˙ peterm4rkerswrld #🕸🕷✮⋆˙ jaemin

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 3 months ago

Text

Cupid doesn’t gamble III

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. SMUT. Praise. Creampie. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 5,167

A/N: someone tried to hack my account😭

[I][II]

“I knew you in another life, you had that same look in your eyes. I love you, don't act so surprised,” - Birds of a feather, Billie Eilish

Days passed and your presence had suddenly quieted down. You wouldn’t return his phone calls and it was as if you had gone MIA. Something wasn’t right.

What Leon didn’t know, it was that you had been kidnapped in your own home one night. A man broke into your house and drugged you until you were unconscious, right before retrieving your body away.

There were no traces left behind but there was only one person that could’ve done this. The Suit.

Leon was in the middle of discussing something with his men when his phone rang.

He took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, expecting to see your name, but instead, he was met with an unknown number. He felt his heart skip a beat, something wasn't right.

He stepped outside, away from his men and answered the call, "Who is this?" He asked, his voice cold and unwavering.

“Leon!” It was your voice on the other line, crying and screaming, “Please! Help me!”

“Ah, Leon Kennedy,” another man chimed in. The Suit. He chuckled darkly, the sound low and sinister, “I hope you don’t mind I took something of yours. She’s really pretty too…”

He laughed again and you kept crying in the background, begging and pleading to be set free, “Silence her, she’s giving me a headache,” The Suit said and some men taped your mouth shut.

Leon’s blood ran cold as he heard your voice on the phone, crying and pleading for him to help. And that chuckle, that distinct low tone of The Suit.

"If you touched her, I swear-" Leon’s voice was low and dangerous, his grip on the phone tightening.

He listened to you struggling, crying, begging, and it took every ounce of his self control not to burst into a million pieces. His knuckles were white from how hard his was gripping the phone.

The Suit laughed again at Leon’s words, “Touch her? You make me sound like a monster, I thought you knew better, hm?” His tone was condescending and mocking.

“This is how it’s going to go if you want your little girlfriend to stay in one piece,” he spoke darkly, “Simply come to the location I’ll send. Alone. If you show up with men, I will not hesitate to shoot her…”

“Not before having my fun with her,” even though Leon couldn’t see, The Suit was smirking. His tone was dangerous and yet amused.

Leon’s heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest. The sound of the bastard's voice mocking him, threatening you, brought a fury in his eyes that even hell would fear.

"You bastard," Leon growled, gripping the phone so tightly, he was surprised it didn’t break, "If you even think you can lay a hand on her-"

He was interrupted by a low chuckle from The Suit on the other side. "You know very well what I’m capable of. If you care for her, you’ll come to the location I tell you to. Alone."

The line disconnected after that. There was no room for arguments, it was either he obeyed or you’d be in danger, more than you already was.

You kept crying and shaking, you were tied to a chair. Your legs were tied to the legs of the chair as your wrists were tied down to the armrests. You couldn’t move and you couldn’t speak.

When Leon had finally arrived at the place The Suit had told him to go, the place was seemingly abandoned and alone. Leon entered the abandoned building, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls.

His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew this was a trap, that The Suit wanted to get to him, but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was finding you, making sure you were okay.

The sound of your faint cries sent a pang through his chest. He followed the sound, his heart clenching at the thought of what The Suit could be doing to you.

When you saw Leon, your eyes filled with more tears and you tugged at your confined arms, wanting to desperately try and reach for him.

Leon saw you there, bound to the chair, tears streaming down your face. His heart clenched at the sight of you, so vulnerable, so scared.

He rushed to your side, crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “Hey, hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “It’s going to be okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

Leon's heart broke at the sight of you crying, terrified and helpless. He knew he had to get that tape off your mouth, he had to hear your voice.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears, "I'm gonna take this tape off, okay? Just stay still for me," he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

With care, he began to slowly remove the tape from your mouth, trying to make the process as painless as possible. The tape didn’t hurt, it was very wet from your tears. You cried for a long time. When the tape was off, you looked down at him and whispered hoarsely, “I’m so scared.”

“They came one night and broke into my house, a-and then a man came from behind me and I-I don’t remember what happened but I woke up here and—“ you were whispering but your voice would break every now and then.

Leon listened to you, his heart breaking with each shaky word you spoke. The thought of someone breaking into your house, scaring you, hurting you brought a wave of anger through him. He wanted to find The Suit and make him pay.

But he pushed those thoughts aside, for now, you needed him. You needed him to comfort you, to protect you, to be there with you. He gently cupped your face in his hands once again.

"Hey, hey, shhh, it's going to be alright," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing.

You leaned into his hands as he cupped your face, his touch was gentle and for a moment you felt so safe. That was until the sound of a man echoed through the room, The Suit. The Suit was a tall man, more on the lean side compared to Leon. He had short dark hair with an overgrown stubble.

“Well, isn’t this all so romantic?” He said mockingly, “The knight in shining rescuing the damsel in distress. You really have become very unpredictable, Leon.”

Leon's back tensed as The Suit spoke. He had been so focused on you, making sure you were alright, that he had lost focus on his surroundings. He had underestimated The Suit, and it was a mistake.

The Suit stood right behind Leon’s crouching form, staring down at Leon’s back with an amused smirk, “I didn’t know you were even capable of loving. Doesn’t she know that you’re one of the country’s most notorious mafia boss?” You furrowed your brows together and looked down at Leon confused, he was in the mafia?

He felt your gaze on him, your confusion at The Suit's words. Leon clenched his jaw and looked up at The Suit, his expression cold and stoic.

"She doesn't need to know," Leon's voice was low, a hint of warning in his tone.

The Suit simply chuckled and walked over to stand behind you, staring at Leon, “She doesn’t?” He repeated in an amused tone. One of his hands then took a strand of your hair and twirled it around his finger.

“She does now,” he added mischievously with a menacing grin, “You see, little lady, the man in front of you hasn’t been all honest with you.”

He let go of your hair and stood right in front of Leon, “He’s a mafia boss who kills people and commits crimes left and right,” then he turned to look at you, “Don’t tell me you still love him,” he said mockingly.

Leon's gaze darkened. "Don't listen to him," Leon said, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't want you to know about his life, about his secrets. He didn't want you to get involved in his dark world.

The Suit let out a loud laugh, “Ha! You’ve changed Leon,” he commented as he backed away from you and walked to a table.

“Love makes people act like fools,” The Suit said as he began to walk back towards Leon, “Are you a fool Leon?” He asked rhetorically.

Leon's fists clenched as The Suit spoke, his words and laughter like nails on a chalkboard. He hated the way The Suit mocked them, trying to drive a wedge between them.

Leon's gaze darkened as he looked up at the man in front of them, "I'd do anything to protect her," he said, his voice low and defiant.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” The Suit chuckled and shook his head, “And you, woman?” He said as he turned his head to look at him, to which you grew scared.

“You’d let your little boyfriend protect you and rescue you again and again and again?” He whispered, “Do you seriously believe you’ll survive by being in his world? You’re weak.”

Leon's heart ached as The Suit began to speak to you, his words trying to sow seeds of doubt. Leon's hands balled into fists again, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was clenching them.

"Don't listen to him," Leon repeated, his voice louder and more urgent. "You're not weak, you're strong. I will always protect you."

He turned his gaze to The Suit, his expression cold and determined. "She's not weak, unlike you," he said, his voice a steely growl. You looked at Leon, his words sounded genuine and it seemed to have calmed you down a bit. But The Suit took offense to Leon’s words as his face and demeanor changed—for the worse.

“You dare insinuate that this damned woman is stronger than me? Look at her crying like a pathetic little girl!” He then took a chunk of your hair and held it up, causing you to whimper and cry.

“Yeah,” he taunted you in a whisper, his lips close to your ear that you could feel them graze against the shell, “That’s right. Cry like a little bitch. That’s what all women know what to do, cry all the damn time, huh?”

Leon had enough of this man’s offensive behavior, he swiftly stood up and with speed, his balled fist made contact with The Suit’s cheek. The Suit stumbled backwards, letting go of your hair as he went to cup his stinging cheek before glaring at Leon.

“I won’t forget this, Kennedy,” he said before he walked towards a table, picking up a gun. It was a handgun, he aimed it at Leon and quickly tried to shoot him. Only for Leon to roll away before taking out his own gun.

“You coward!” The Suit yelled in a fit of rage. His ego was being stepped on and he didn’t like it at all. To be played by his long time enemy was like a crush to his pride after all the effort he’s been trying to make himself known.

Leon said nothing and started to shoot back at The Suit, who in a cowardly attempt, called for backup. His bodyguards suddenly entered the space and surrounded the walls, guns at the ready. In any other case, this would’ve been the end to it all. But this was Leon and he doesn’t go down without a fight.

“Cute,” he muttered, “You don’t think I’ve known about your little trap?” He said to The Suit.

“No doubt about it. You seem smart enough to understand that I could ambush you and yet you’re still here,” The Suit replied.

“And you seem smart enough to know that I also don’t listen to rules,” as Leon said this, his own men barged into the room by breaking down the door. He never goes to places alone, this he knew to follow.

The Suit, for the first time, felt a hint of fear. This was something he knew all too well. This was a battle that he couldn't avoid. He’s messed around and he’s about to find out.

It all happened so fast—almost like a James Bond movie in which there is a montage of men fighting and shooting each other with badass music playing in the background. But none of that will be here. There is no System of a Down playing.

At the first sound of a gunshot, a domino effect happened and shots rang all around. Leon, in concern, ran towards you and pulled you down to the floor still on the chair. As his men defended him, he began to cut through the ties that bound you to the chair, “Cover your ears,” he whispered in your ear. Your hands moved to your ears and watched as Leon took defense over you and began to shoot at The Suit’s men.

The Suit made an escape through the back door, thinking no one would follow him as he avoided the fight. Leon, however, wasn’t dumb and he had his eyes on him. He felt a sudden wave of anger and he ran after The Suit.

As The Suit climbed up the stairs of the staircase he had run into, Leon followed closely behind attempting to shoot him with his handgun but The Suit dodged left and right as he ran up the stairs. When he pushed past the exit door, The Suit was met with a gush of wind blowing at him as he had made it to the rooftop. Essentially it was a deadend.

“You’ve been nothing but a thorn,” Leon said as he had made it to the rooftop not long after The Suit, “I’ve had enough of your games. Not only did you kill my associate–I know you have–but you also brought an innocent person into this?!”

The Suit chuckled, “I didn’t. You did. You were the one pining after her and bringing her into your chaos, I only showed her the truth that you were keeping from her.”

“That was something I should do, it wasn’t your business to meddle with!”

“Really?” The Suit smirked, “There is one thing you seemed to have forgotten about the mafia, Leon,” he said as he stepped closer to Leon, “The mafia doesn’t care about privacy. When you decided to join, you gave away your life,” he muttered lowly.

This angered Leon, “You’re right. I did give my life to this. But I’m not the idiot that’s about to give it away permanently.”

Leon brought his handgun to The Suit’s chest and without sparing a second, his finger curled on the trigger and pulled it back. The sound of a gunshot echoing in the night sky as the bullet went through The Suit’s chest. His body froze for a second and his breath hitched, The Suit looked down at his now bleeding chest, realizing what Leon had done.

“You…” The Suit whispered before he stumbled back and slipped off the edge of the rooftop. The building was seven stories tall and with his wounded chest, it was sure that he wouldn’t survive the fall. Leon went ahead to watch as The Suit’s body made contact with the street floor, a crack and a puddle of blood already forming around his body.

“You never insult my girl,” Leon muttered under his breath, not caring about The Suit’s fate.

When Leon went back to check on you and his men, there were bodies and blood everywhere. It looked like a massacre. His eyes hastily searched for you and when he saw you with a blanket around your body as you sat on the floor, he rushed towards him.

His men had won, now cleaning the area to avoid the police. He crouched in front of you, “Are you okay?” he whispered. You nodded your head and looked at him. He knew you were shocked and most likely traumatized but he was willing to help you.

“I’m fine,” you whispered back, he sighed softly, his demeanor changing and his hard expression falling off his face. It was as if you were calming him with just your presence.

“I should’ve told you sooner but I didn’t want to scare you off. It wasn’t the right time and I would’ve liked to take you on more dates and give you everything you wanted and–” his rambling got caught off when you suddenly leaned towards him and kissed him, silencing him. He was shocked and for a moment, he held his breath. When you pulled back, his ears were a deep shade of red and his lips were parted with shock.

“I… know,” you muttered, “I know. I should've been scared and should’ve run off but I just couldn’t when all you’ve done was be so kind to me.”

Leon could only stare at you, his eyes staring deeply into yours, “You know I’d never even think about hurting you, much less have some scumbag touch you. I’ll protect you with my life, I’ll give you my everything. My money, my house, my car–take it all…but don’t leave me,” he whispered. For the first time, he was being vulnerable. His walls crumbled down because of you, you made him feel something he has never felt before, something that he couldn’t put into words.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin just right under your eye, “Allow me,” he muttered before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes closed as you felt his lips, melting under his touch and you soon found yourself kissing him back. Pushing your head forward as your hands wrapped around his forearms, wanting to keep him in place right in front of you.

The days passed by like a breeze. The Suit’s organization crumbled after his death and Leon fought for his territory, expanding his empire even more. But, amidst these events, he never forgot to take care of you. He wanted you to move into his mansion where you’d be more protected. He took you out on dates, the ones he promised to take you on. His goal was to make you happy, to keep a smile on your face. He’s bought you gifts and his heart swelled every time you flusteredly accepted. That man was head over heels for you, you got him hooked.

“Do you want to go out today?” He asked as he turned to look at you, you who was sitting on the edge of his bed. Although you moved in, you wanted to sleep in your own bed so as to not burden him and keep your privacy. He happily obliged despite wanting to share everything with you.

You shook your head ‘no’ at him, “No,I kind of just want to stay in and have a lazy night.”

He hummed and nodded, loosening his tie before rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, “We can do that,” he said in a warm voice. You couldn’t help the slight heartbeat that skipped in your chest when you saw him like that. Something about the casually lazy look made him look even more handsome.

He went up to you and pecked your lips in a short but loving kiss, “You’re so cute,” he whispered against your lips. It didn’t take long for you to start kissing him back, your lips demanding longer kisses.

Your hands pulled his tie so he can come closer to you, your back on the bed as he gently climbed on top of you and put his hands on either side of your head to cage you in. His lips continued kissing yours, nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue met the inside of your mouth.

A quiet moan vibrated from you to him, feeling like your heart’s about to burst out of your chest. Your hands softly pressed against his chest as you pushed him back a bit, staring into his eyes. No words needed to be spoken, tonight was the night the two of you would take a step further into the relationship.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered, “Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me be yours.”

All you could do was nod, his words and his behavior all led to one thing; he felt the same about you. His lips began to attack your neck, sucking and nipping the skin at the crook of your neck as his hands lowered down to your chest. He slid his hands under your shirt, fingers itching to touch your breasts. His big hands gently and tenderly squeezed your breasts, letting a quiet growl against your neck as he relished in the feeling of your skin on his hands.

It didn’t matter if you wore a bra or not, he still loved them.

His hands then slipped lower your abdomen and into the waistband of your pants before he put one hand right between your legs. The palm of his hand pressed against your crotch area while his fingers pressed against your clothed needy cunt, earning a soft gasp from you. This brought a small smirk to his face, watching the way your eyes closed tightly and you subconsciously bit your lower lip. He loved it all.

He slid his hand under your pants and under your panties, hand itching to touch you. Upon reaching your folds, he nearly moaned when he felt how wet they were already. He brought his hand out for just a second as he sniffed his fingers and then licked them, tasting your glistening folds and his eyes rolled back.

And then he brought his hand under your panties again. His eyes remained fixed on your face as he slowly rubbed your clit with his thumb as his index finger tested the waters of gently pressing the pad of his fingertip between your lips.

When he saw how needy you were and how you bucked your hips into his hand, he inserted the index finger slowly into your cunt. As you moaned breathlessly and he groaned quietly, he felt your walls be so tight against his finger and his thoughts ran wild with the need to put his cock inside you.

“Let me warm you up, pretty girl,” he whispered as he then inserted his middle finger. Now fingering with two fingers, he knew you could take it, he’s being so slow and gentle.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he murmured against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, “Doing so good for me. My pretty girl. You look so beautiful like this.”

His other hand gently took your shirt off, wanting to see your chest once again. He dipped his head down and wrapped one breast with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipple. Your back arched, his fingers and his mouth setting your body ablaze with ecstasy.

“More,” you muttered. You felt him smirk against the other breast since he believed in treating both equally as something delicious.

“Very well, princess,” he hums quietly before he pulled his fingers out of you and sat on his knees. He slowly took his tie off and unbuttoned hit shirt, revealing the sculpted chest he had. Stretch marks adorned his pecs from gaining and losing weight, his highs and lows being portrayed in his body. A trail of hair leading down his V-line, scars added to his allure. It was as he was personally made from heaven.

He wasn’t an insecure man, he knew he was good looking but it still seemed to shock him the effect he had on you. The ends of his lips curled up ever so slightly as he watched you practically drool for him. His hands, after taking off his shirt, went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants before throwing them somewhere.

You didn’t hesitate either, your clothes were off save for your panties and he appreciated the fact you wanted him to take off your underwear and open you like a gift. Except that you weren’t a gift, you were a blessing in his eyes.

“May I?” He asked quietly as his finger curled against the waistband of your panties. You nodded and he slowly took the last article of clothing off you.

He didn’t say anything and just remained there staring deeply down at you. His eyes roamed over every detail about your body, wanting to keep this memory of your first night together forever.

The words died in his throat but the look he had said more than the dictionary could.

He began to pull his boxers down to reveal his aching and hard cock, pink at the tip with precum. His eyes never left yours as he wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the precum down his length to lubricate it. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet enough, he just didn’t want to hurt you.

“Ready?” He whispered and looked at you as he settled between your legs. The back of your thighs pressed against his thighs as his tip grazed against your wet pussy. His hands ran down your thighs to soothe you as you nodded, “Yes. I’m ready.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he took hold of his cock and slowly pressed himself inside you, moving deeper and deeper until his pelvic area made contact with your body.

A whimper escaped your lips and he groaned at the feeling of being inside you. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever imagined, it was better.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured as he leaned down next to your ear, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you deeper against the bed. His fingers intertwined with yours as he slowly moved his hips back before pushing back in, causing you to moan once again.

For him, this was good. The way your eyes closed, the way you nibbled on your bottom lip, and the way you gripped his hands—he’s making you feel good and that’s all he’s ever wanted to do.

His pace was slow at first, wanting you to get used to his size before he could speed up. As he did so, he whispered sweet things into your ear.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Look at you, taking me in so well.”

“I am so lucky to have you.”

As he praised you, he slowly began to increase the speed of his thrusts. Each other becoming slightly harder and deeper than the last. Then, he let go of your hands and brought them under your knees as he lifted your legs up to rest them on his shoulders—bringing you closer to him as possible.

He grunted and groaned at the new angle he had you in, he wrapped his arms around your body, bringing you against his chest as he essentially got you in this weird position with your legs over his shoulders. Who knew you were that flexible.

“Leon,” you moaned against his shoulder, gently biting his skin. He knew you were close and he wanted to bring you closer, si he unwrapped one arm and brought his hand back down and began to circle your clit with this thumb.

He marveled as he watched your back arch again, moans spilling out from you, he’d almost forgot how good he felt too until he felt you start clenching around him. His eyes rolled back but he didn’t stop. He continued rubbing your clit at the same pace but his hips began to move faster as he started to get lost in the sensation of your body.

“Cum for me,” he muttered, “Please, I need to see how pretty you are when you cum.”

It was a psychological thing, you swore. His words probably did more than his actions and when you suddenly hugged him tightly—your moans coming out muffled—he felt you tighten around him and cum on his cock. He nearly came right then and there.

“That’s it, good job, baby,” he praised in a quiet tone, “You did so well for me.”

He gently stopped rubbing your clit and caressed your head as he kept you against his chest while he thrusted in you. Not soon after, he came inside you. His hot load of cum shooting ropes of white inside you, claiming you in the most intimate way.

His breath was labored and he slowly loosened his embrace and let you lay back against the bed with ease. He carefully put your legs down, no longer on his shoulders. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath.

He liked this look on you, a look that only he can give you at the moment. It made his heart swell. He gently pulled out of you, watching as his cum started to leak out of you but he didn’t let it fall on the bed as he curled his finger and collected the drop of semen.

“I’ll go clean you up, don’t move,” he said in a firm but gentle voice as he stood up and got off the bed before making his way to the bathroom where he got a warm towel. He gently pressed it between your legs and wiped as carefully as possible to avoid making you uncomfortable.

Once he was done, he picked up your clothes from the floor and helped you get dressed into a new set of pajamas. Ones that knew would feel so comfortable after everything that’s happened. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead, “You did so well, now rest, dear,” he whispered before he began to get dressed himself.

You could only nod, feeling a bit bad that he’s taking care of you and not the other way around. But knowing him, he’ll probably reprimand you for working too hard. He really cares about you.

Minutes later he joined you in his bed, wrapped his arms around you and bringing closer to his chest to cuddle. Your arms wrapped around his chest as both your legs tangled under the covers. It was comforting and he was warm. Warm enough that you almost fell asleep.

“I love you,” you muttered. That was the first time he’s ever heard you say those words. It made his heart skip a beat and a smile reached his lips.

“I love you just as much more as I possibly could,” he muttered back before kissing the crown of your head and hugged you tighter.

He closed his eyes around the same time you did, and you both fell asleep in each others arms.

The two of you now bound by love and promises, he swore he’d never let anyone else lay a finger on you and he’ll let the world burn for you.

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cheqorb · 2 months ago

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More Between Us.

You’ve always been just friends, but they can’t ignore how their heart races whenever you’re near.

FEAT. Isagi, Bachira

NOTES. probably my most tooth-rotting post yet! annnd I totally forgot I had this in my drafts Bring this duo back to me though pleasj

ISAGI is easygoing, and mild-mannered by nature (though perhaps his rivals disagree on that). It’s literally harder to not be friends with him. Your relationship was equally good, nothing particularly special and not abysmal. The type of friends who might talk on the way to class if you spot each other, but never go out of their way to do so either.

If asked, you wouldn’t even say best friends; he’s too busy with his teammates, and you have your own friend group.

See, Isagi enjoys thinking about stuff in a logical sense, using reason and evidence to support his ‘theory’. Both in real life and in football.

So before he even comes to the conclusion of a crush, firstly, there’s the small details he picks up about you.

Your eyes shift colour slightly if the sun hits them right. But, he reckons that happens with everyone’s eyes. Your eyes crinkle upwards when you smile, and maybe even dimples form on your cheeks as you do so. He likes seeing people smile, and yours is… in a way, cuter than anyone else’s? If he had to rank smiles, he’d put yours near the top. All hypothetical, obviously!

He’s always been observant, even as a kid, so Isagi figured he was just feeling a little more insightful as of late but it doesn’t stop there.

Suddenly, Isagi finds himself unconsciously lingering in places he knows you'll be. He tells himself it's just coincidence, but deep down, he has a feeling that he’s seeking you out more often.

Practicing with his team becomes a lot more strategic, with him making sure he's near your usual route home (not in a stalker way, at least, he hopes not), and just on time so that he can ‘bump into you’ and walk together.

And he lives in the complete opposite direction, so, while you don’t mind his presence, you find it a little odd.

Isagi begins to remember every little thing you mention, even the small stuff, like your favorite snack or the song you've been listening to on repeat. Next thing you know, he’s casually surprising you with them, acting like it’s no big deal but loves it when you get visibly excited about it.

He fumbles with his words a little more around you now, overthinking simple things that never used to bother him. It’s not like he’s shy (actually one of the best communicators out of everyone), he just doesn’t want to mess up or make you think he’s weird!

If he says something that could be interpreted as mildly creepy, he’s actually the first one to call it out and apologise over and over again. Beats himself up about it at home, even if you thought it was mildly funny that he knew what you were doing last week Tuesday at around 5:06PM…

When his teammates joke about him having a crush, he laughs it off, but there’s always a little pink in his cheeks that he hopes you don’t notice.

He'll start texting you first more often, just to share something funny or ask for your opinion on something trivial. It’s an excuse, really, just to have another reason to talk to you.

Also catches himself smiling whenever he sees a notification from you pop up on his phone, and his heart does a little flip when he reads your replies, no matter how mundane they are. Literally a “hey, I’m bored. Wanna hang out” is enough for him to lose sleep over it.

When you two do eventually go to said hang out, he pays extra attention to you: whether it's making sure you’re comfortable, or that you’ve got enough to eat, he’s always subtly looking out for you.

Despite all these signs, Isagi convinces himself it’s better this way — giving you small hints for you to understand rather than straight-up confessing. If you notice them and accept, great! If you notice and don’t accept, that’s fine too, he hopes you can remain friends though!

If you’re completely oblivious, well… he’ll muster up the courage to say it outright.

You and BACHIRA are like two peas in a pod together! Where there’s one, the other’s probably lurking nearby somewhere. Every second of every day seems to be spent with each other (and to anybody with common sense, you two already look like you’re dating).

When the crush starts, he thinks about you more than he already did, if that were even possible. Every little thing you do seems to make his heart race, but he sorta brushes it off as just excitement from being with his best friend.

Kind of a trickier situation than Isagi’s one this way though, because now you’re so close, Bachira doesn’t even feel that different about you. He might not even realise it’s romantic until his mother points it out in the midst of another one of his rambling sessions. About you, that is.

I won’t sugarcoat it; he’s nervous if anything. You’re one of the few friends he has and genuinely seem to care and like about him and if he ruins your friendship over his feelings, he’d be devastated.

But he’s back to his usual self and gains a little confidence after some encouragement from others!

Bachira’s clinginess ramps up a notch, but it’s so typical of him that you might not even notice. He’s constantly draping an arm around you, leaning on you, or just being in your personal space as much as possible.

Willing to share anything and everything with you. For example, if it’s snacks he’s got, he’s always picking out the best pieces just for you and handing them over with a cute smile.

Bachira finds himself staring at you a lot more now. Sometimes you’ll catch him and he’ll just laugh it off with a playful comment, but on the inside, his mind is racing with thoughts he can’t quite put into words.

When you talk, he listens with full attention, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more tender. He hangs onto your every word like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard — and you could literally be talking about a bug you saw on the sidewalk this morning.

If you ever need anything, Bachira’s the first one to jump in and help, no questions asked. He’d go out of his way just to make you smile, even if it means a truckload of extra effort on his part.

Sometimes, he hints at deeper feelings in his usual roundabout way — in little jokes that might just have a hint of truth behind them. But he always plays it off as just that, a joke.

If you’re feeling down, he’s the first to notice, offering comfort in the form of goofy antics or just sitting with you in silence if that’s what you want.

If you ever confront him directly and ask if he feels something more than just being friends, Bachira might just spill everything in a rush of words; unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. But until then, he’s content simply being by your side, even if it means he isn’t being entirely honest to himself.

#cheq. writes #cheq. bllk #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x gender neutral reader #bllk x reader #isagi x you #bachira x you #bllk fluff

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the-ace-with-spades · 10 months ago

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(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too.

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner.

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.”

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face.

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year

#this is like a very shortened version with some points cropped out #maybe this will be a full-blown fic at some point #who knows? not me for sure #idk maybe closer to christmas or sth if i have inspiration #i headcanon soap speaks scots whenever he's home/speaking freely and softens the accent otherwise #i love glasgowian accents but im not good at writing them so #ghoap #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #call of duty #q #charlie writes #op

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liahaslosthermind · 4 months ago

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~ 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 4 of Betrayal Summary: What becomes of a family so fractured? Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Attempted murder of family, Hurt/No Comfort, Death of a loved one, Grief, Cheating, Betrayal.

Shadows cover his vision, taking away the pleasure of seeing Rhysand's face as Azriel wrapped his hands around his brother's neck, intending to not let go till he is long gone.

Azriel couldn't even think at the moment, nothing on his mind but the sheer hatred he felt for his oldest friend. Nothing on his mind but Rhysand's continued betrayal to Adelaide, even as her body lays still in its eternal resting place.

If she couldn't get revenge for the betrayals right now, Azriel would be her warhorse, having gotten good at the art of revenge over his long life.

So filled with anger, Azriel forgets to leave the walls around his mind locked up tight. It usually wouldn't have been a problem, even at their weakest, breaking into Azriel's mind was no easy feat. But the fear Feyre felt for her mate was enough to fuel her abilities. Suddely, Azriel went slack on top of Rhysand, having been knocked out by Feyre's daemati powers. She hadn't meant to fully knock him out, but she was far too worried about her mate to care all that much right now.

Cassian grabbed Azriel, restricting his arms and wings so he wouldn't be able to attack his brother if he woke up, but not tight enough to hurt him.

The room was silent apart from Rhysand's heavy panting as he caught his breath and Feyre's cooing as she tried to comfort him.

"Are you stupid, boy?" Amren asked, but everyone knew it was rhetorical. "In what court would it be a good idea to tell your grieving and suicidal brother that you made the woman you left his best friend for, the dead best friend he is grieving still, your wife and High Lady?"

Again, it was posed as a question, but Rhysand knew better than to try and answer it.

"We had talked about this, brother. Until we saw that he was better, we couldn't tell him. You may have had more reasons that just wanting to make Feyre your High Lady, but Azriel won't care for the politics of it."

"He was going to kill himself, Cassian! He isn't going to get better. I didn't mean to tell him like that, gods know I can't blame him for what he just tried to do, but we all need to get it into our heads that he is not who he was, that he won't ever be. We lost him the day we lost her." Rhys' voice broke at the end as he said the quiet part out loud.

Truly, as well as he could, Rhysand did see Azriel's side. Love had made him stupid and blind and he knew he did things that the man Rhysand was a few years ago would have also killed him over, but love had changed Azriel too.

Not wanting to partake in the difficult conversation, everyone seemed to disappear, leaving the High Lord alone with his brothers. One unconscious and the other wishing he was so he wouldn't have to talk about what they were certainly about to talk about.

"You had told Addie time and time again that you had no wish for marriage, no wish to tie her to all the responsibilities you had, no wish to put a target on her back. Had I been in slightly worse state of mind when you first told us, I would have tried to kill you too over your hypocrisy, so would most of us."

It was true, the entire family, sans the Archeron sisters, wanted to kill their High Lord for his stupidity, for his continued betrayal. Once Nesta had been filled in on the details behind why it was brutal for him to make Feyre his High Lady, Nesta ran to her sisters to tell her, disgusted that he would continue to hurt his late lover like this.

Only her sisters didn't bat an eye. They knew. They didn't care.

They had their own reasons for their dislike for Adelaide. In Feyre's mind, Adelaide stood between her and her mate, playing the role of the evil mistress trying to break the happy couple apart, even if Feyre easily fit the description too.

For Elaine, it was more skewed. She blamed Adelaide for taking Azriel from her. While the girl had been alive, she had tried to bring the two together after Elaine confided in her about her feelings for Addie's best friend. When Adelaide gushed about how happy she was to hear that, how she had noticed the way the Shadowsinger looked at the youngest sister, Elaine felt as though a boulder had been taken off her chest. Addie never mentioned Elaine's mate, never made her feel bad for not having feelings for him, for wanting another man.

But a few months before she died, Azriel stopped with all the flirtation. He closed himself off from Elaine, remained only by Adelaide's side, and Elaine had assumed it had been her doing. That Addie had gotten jealous when they almost kissed and commanded her best friend forget about Elaine. It made her so mad she wished the stupid girl was dead.

Then when she did die, Azriel was a ghost. No matter what Elaine tried, he just wouldn't get over his misery and grief. So she blamed Adelaide for dying, for closing any opportunities she would have had to get the Spy Master back.

Rhysand didn't reply to what Cassian had said, didn't even give any indication that he had heard the male. Standing up and brushing himself off, he spoke as much as he could with the damage Azriel did to his vocal cords, "Put him in her room. Not his, he doesn't sleep there anymore. I'll call Madja to check on me, and then him. Maybe its time we keep a closer eye on him and if we must, get him help that isn't us."

Cassian was surprised at Rhysand's command. Despite the High Lord knowing he was fully to blame for most of this, Cassian hadn't expected his brother to be so forgiving of his other brother's suicide and murder attempt. But he did as the High Lord said.

It was the first time the General got a good look at Azriel in a while. He had spent the day before with him, but even then Azriel was closed off, hiding his emotions. When he was asleep, Cassian could take in his gaunt face, his pronounced eye bags, and the wrinkle lines that had yet to smooth down from his constant frowns.

He was still beautiful, nothing could take away the Shadowsinger's unnecessary handsomeness, but he wasn't the same as he had been the past 500 years. Cassian had seen him through some of his hardest moments, seen most of his brother's scars form, but he had never looked like this. He looked more lifeless than Adelaide did in her casket.

Gods, what a mess this already dysfunctional family had become.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar angst #azriel #rhysand angst #rhysand #azriel angst #acotar fic #~ lia's betrayal series ~

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starryeyedjanai · 1 year ago

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@eddiemonth prompt: first concert | read on ao3

The first concert of Corroded Coffin's that Steve goes to, Eddie's a nervous wreck beforehand.

His hands are sweaty and he's wringing them as he paces outside after they get their equipment inside.

Jeff takes one look at him and sighs.

He knows how Eddie feels about Steve and he knows how important it is that they make a good impression on him. He might not understand the whole Steve thing, but he gets having a crush on someone unattainable.

Well-

When Eddie first told him about it, he thought it was just an unattainable little crush. Just something that happened because they got close after the earthquake. Steve was a new friend, someone Eddie hadn't known long enough to get used to, and he's - Jeff's not going to pretend he isn't attractive.

So he understood it, kind of. And the thought that the crush would fade once Eddie knew him for longer.

But Steve hanging around them, making an effort to get to know Jeff and Grant and Gareth, being nice to Jeff's mom- that had Jeff pausing and taking another look at the situation.

Because Steve didn't have to do any of that. He could hang out with Eddie, maybe the one freak he could tolerate, and call it a day.

But he was trying, and he was being better than he was in high school. Which, if anyone asks, Jeff would say he actually wasn't all that bad in high school compared to the others.

So Jeff looked a little more closely.

And saw the way Steve looks at Eddie, his eyes tracking him as he crosses the room. He saw the way Steve laughed at all of Eddie's jokes, even the ones he didn't understand. He saw the way Steve was always looking for an excuse to touch Eddie, putting a hand on his arm, putting a hand on his back, his arm around him, hugging him at the end of the night and the hugs lasting longer than any hug Jeff's ever had with a buddy.

He saw that and saw that this isn't a passing fancy for Eddie. He saw the way Eddie leaned into Steve unconsciously, the way he always looks for him first when entering a room, the way he lights up when he sees him. He saw the way Eddie seemed to like him more and more, and subsequently talk about him more and more, the more he got to know him.

So it wasn't just a crush.

And it wasn't unrequited like Eddie thought.

But now Jeff is watching him pace a hole in the ground and he can't exactly tell Eddie that he's 99% sure that Steve feels the same because 1. he wouldn't believe him and 2. that 1% of doubt is enough to deter him. This isn't something he can be wrong about. Even if feels mostly sure, he wouldn't ever say that he should go for it when it could turn ugly for him. This isn't a crush on some girl where the worst that could happen is that she says no.

So, for now, Jeff watches.

And Jeff hopes.

He hopes that they'll be able to see it for themselves. That Eddie will catch the way Steve looks at him and realize that it's the same way he looks at Steve.

He hopes that Steve will make a move, put those rumors of his suaveness to good use and woo Eddie.

He heads inside when he sees Gareth talking to Eddie, trying to calm him down.

He sees Steve and Robin, talking at a table near the front of the venue, and he makes a beeline for them.

"Jeff!" Steve says, smiling at him when he sees him coming over. He waves at both of them.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asks and when Steve furrows his brow and nods, he leads him away from Robin.

"What's going on?" Steve asks, looking worried.

He says, "Just, Eddie's really nervous about performing in front of you tonight. So, like, even if we suck or you don't like this kind of music, can you not say you didn't like it? Not that I think you'd be mean about it, but like-"

Steve looks at him confused. "I've listened to your tapes before. I like your music. I wouldn't- okay, I mean I'd still be here even if I didn't like it, but I do like it. Wait- why's Eddie nervous?" he asks. And Jeff hadn't planned on Steve asking that. Shit.

He says, "Because you're his coolest friend and he doesn't want to screw up in front of you."

Steve's expression softens. "I'm not- you know what? Okay. If it makes you feel better, I won't say I didn't like it."

"Okay," Jeff says, nodding, relieved. "And don't, like, mention I said anything."

"'Course," Steve says with a smile. "You're a good friend, Jeff."

Jeff grins at him and walks him back to his table. That 1% is looking awfully less and less with every conversation Jeff has with Steve.

The manager waves him over and tells them they can start setting up on stage, so he goes to get the others.

The show is good, once Eddie snaps out of his nerves.

It's actually impressive, seeing him with shaky hands as they get ready to start and then seeing him turn it on seamlessly like he was never nervous in the first place.

They play and Jeff watches the way Eddie keeps looking at Steve, keeps looking to make sure he looks like he's enjoying himself.

And Jeff sees Steve smiling the entire time, singing along to the cover songs they do and also to one of their original songs.

At the end of the night, after they get their stuff back in their van, he sees Eddie and Steve talking, standing close, one of Steve's hands playing with the hem of Eddie's shirt.

And he knows they'll get there eventually, even without his help.

They'll find their way to each other and see what Jeff sees.

He's sure of it.

As he gets in the driver's seat and looks over at Grant, he can only hope he'll get that too one day.

#eddiemonth #steddie #outsider pov #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #st fic #st ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie & jeff #janai.doc

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charmercharm3r · 1 year ago

Note

In Phases, imagine that Reader gets fucked so good and so well by both that she falls into sub-space, pretty much like Minho does sometimes. No thoughts, mind blank, half-unconscious and she loses awareness of her surroundings for seconds, body only searching for the high. You know what I mean.

How would that happen and how would the bbies react after bringing her to that point??👀

I'm desesperatly in love with your blog btw❤❤

this, I simply couldn't ignore and had to turn it into a whole drabble

Masterlist, Phases Masterlist

☆ﾟ

Sweaty, tired, numb yet somehow on fire, "moaning like a pornstar," was how Jisung put it.

Except porn is fake. This, this feeling, the way they made you feel is entirely real.

Jisung had his back against the headboard, hands behind his head with his mouth agape while he watched you work yourself into a frenzy in his lap. He could hear the wooden headboard banging agains the wall, could feel your skin rubbing uncomfortably against one another because you'd been going at it for so long, but he didn't care, as long as you didn't either. And you clearly didn't.

Because now you were calling Minho over, who was still trying to catch his breath at the foot of the bed from when you milked him just a few minutes ago. "C'mon now kitty, don't keep our cock hungry princess waiting."

You couldn't stop moving, swiveling forward and back to feel Jisung's tip nudge the soft spot within you, mindlessly beckoning your other boyfriend over because you missed his presence. As if he wasn't in you less than five minutes ago, Minho took your hand like a champ and stood by your side, only to be pulled down into a sloppy kiss by the back of the neck, all the while you didn't slow down.

Your hand glided down his wet chest to find his dick raising again, somehow hardening under your touch. You liked the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, but craved something bigger, heavier.

Minho winced against your lips as you tugged at his cock, "can't- hurts-"

"You can, and you will," Jisung instructed before the other could protest.

All three of you knew Minho could take it, if he truly didn't want to, he would've tried hard to fight it or used the safe word. Instead, Minho kissed you deeper and slightly rutted into your hand before pulling away. He moved to stand on the bed, beside where you and Jisung stayed connected. As soon as he was close enough, you reached to take his cock in your mouth, barely trying to suck.

Jisung had the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face, enthralled by the sight before him. Minho held onto the headboard for balance, the feeling of your warm mouth already making him want to crumble from overstimulation. He was already amazed by how much you were still able to take, thinking in the back of his mind that he needed to do more cardio to catch up to you.

The weight of one dick on your tongue, the other filling you so nicely, you didn't think it could get any better-

Correction; you didn't think. You couldn't think.

Every thought in your head drifted away the second your first orgasm passed, you didn't even know what number you were on now. Maybe Jisung knew- you'll find out eventually.

But his hand was wrapping around your throat now, squeezing softly and feeling the air supply slowly dwindling little by little. Slack jawed, Minho took advantage and threaded his fingers in your hair to rut in quick jabs, the drool dripping down your chin and onto Jisung's hand.

Your thighs burned, trying so hard to maintain a rhythm and failing. Jisung could tell, to Minho it was obvious, they were both just proud you were still going. In an attempt to get him to squeeze harder, you placed your hand around Jisung's. Instead of constricting, he lifted you up by the neck to get you to sit high on your knees.

Even with a mouth full of cock, you couldn't contain your moans. The vibrations of your whining made Minho squirm and rut faster, sloppier. Elevated in more ways than just in his lap, Jisung pulled out to the tip only to slam back into you, thrusting from below at a more than leisure pace. His thumb found its way to your clit, rubbing harshly back and forth perfectly to make you grab at Minho's thigh and harder at Jisung's hand around your neck.

Your eyes rolled back, taking Minho in his full stride and the pummeling you were receiving from below. All senses flushed stupid, feeling nothing and everything all at once and in fact, moaning like a pornstar.

It was so good to the point you didn't realize you'd stopped breathing even when Jisung loosened his grip on your windpipe. You were suddenly being lowered into someone's arms and placed with your head against their chest. It felt as though you had just woken up from a deep slumber, but was sweaty and smelled like bodies on bodies.

"Baby, hey hey, come back to us," Jisung cooed sweetly, brushing away the matted hair on your forehead.

Another set of hands was caressing your back, cooled off by a damp towel being wiped up and down the exposed skin.

Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Minho's big browns glossy with concern, "there she is."

"Hm..?" The dryness of your throat hurt a little, as did the joints in your jaw.

Jisung carefully laid you on your back with your head at the foot of the bed. You could hear him distantly chuckle about the pillows being too icky to lay on.

Towering over you, Minho used the same hand cloth to wipe your face, down your neck and body. He gently kissed your belly as he continued to traverse your lower half and legs. Drowsily looking around the room, you almost rolled your eyes behind your head to find Jisung, who popped in upside down into your field of vision.

"You okay, sweetheart? You blacked out on us," before you could answer, he Spiderman kissed you chastely.

"Dicks too good, apparently." Minho and Jisung high fived each other over your limp body.

"Thirsty," you groaned, trying to regain moisture back into your mouth.

"Yeah, you were. I swear my dick was about to fall off." The older chuckled as he sauntered off to the bathroom for a moment once you were clean. Jisung took his place and sat you up to bring a water bottle to your lips.

"Don't complain. Just means we gotta step up our game, right? Hit the gym more often. You got us both beat, pretty princess." Soft and sweet, the blonde leaned forward to kiss your forehead and tip you back again. "But seriously," he said with your cheeks in his hands, "don't ever scare us like that again. It's okay to stop."

You couldn't help the slightly embarrassed giggle, "I would've if I could."

"Look!" Minho came running back into the room, still completely naked. "Lipstick!" Your lipstick. Printed in a ring around the base of his flaccid cock.

Jisung's mouth dropped, "that's so hot. I want one, too."

"You just told me I should sto-"

"Next time, next time. Can't have you breaking in two." Jisung grabbed the blanket from the side chair and draped it over your body.

As Minho tossed the soiled pillows to the ground and got into bed beside you, he murmured, "yet."

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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milf-murdock · 1 year ago

Text

I See Red (Part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

Part 2 can be found here

Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost? Warnings: allusions to cheating (not Ghost’s fault!! Sweet man has never done anything wrong in his life), swearing, angst (does it make it better if I promise all the fluff in the next chapter?) A/N: Well this has been on my brain for a while. I’m so thrilled to finally have this out into the world! The OGs know that this was one of my first prompts I came up with when I was first writing for Simon Riley. I guess we’ve come full circle <3 Thank you for all your support. Remember, your comments, tags, and messages mean the world to us writers!

It’s surprising that the harsh grinding of your teeth isn’t audible given how hard you’re clenching your jaw. You watch in irritated silence as a tall curvy redhead named Bex leans over Ghost’s shoulder to peer down at the encrypted computer.

She’s always so fucking close to him, to your Ghost.

You steady your growing impatience by taking a swig of water, the thin plastic crinkling under your touch.

“Hmm.” She leans in closer and you could tell Ghost is on edge. He wasn’t exactly the sort who tolerated too many people encroaching on his personal space.

Clearly he makes an exception when it comes to gorgeous redheads though, you think to yourself before mentally chastising the thought.

The rational side of your brain knows that he’s more than likely just putting on a brave face because Bex is new to the team. Technically, you correct yourself, not an actual part of the team. She’s more like a short term contractor. Even you had to begrudgingly admit that the 141 needed her level of expertise to crack through the firewalls and get the intel needed to ensure success for the next part of your mission. After all, you risked your life getting the damn laptop. What good is it if you can’t even get into it?

You knew all of this. Logically. It made sense. Your team needed a military-grade computer expert. She was the most qualified for the job—the “best of the best” Price had said. Done. Fin.

Except…

Except you just couldn’t get over the way her eyes always seemed to linger on Ghost. The way she’d accidentally brush up against him as they walked side by side through the hallway. The way she laughed a little too loud at his terrible Army jokes. And right now, the way her hand rests on his shoulder as she studies the screen.

Your fist unconsciously clenches around your water bottle causing the ice cold water to gush over the loosened cap, spilling all over your lap.

You let out a shout, jumping to your feet as the cold water soaks through your layers. Bex jumps as well, surprised by the outburst, stepping back from the mess.

Simon is on his feet in a heartbeat.

“You okay?” But not even his deep baritone, usually instantly calming, could soothe your irritation, now at an all time high.

“I’m fine,” you snap, crossing the briefing room in strides to toss the empty bottle in the bin. Ghost watches you with careful eyes. Though his face is covered by his signature skull balaclava, you didn’t miss his appraising gaze as he tries to assess the situation—ever the tactician.

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you try again, aiming for a more pleasant tone. “Really. Just a slip of the hand.”

“Well,” Bex scoffs, “You really should be more careful. We are dealing with electronics here, you know.” Her snarky tone has you nearly seeing red again, but you clench your jaw tight and plaster the friendliest smile you could muster, though you’re certain it must look more like a grimace.

“Noted,” you grit out before turning your attention back to Ghost. “I’m gonna head to the barracks and grab a shower. Catch you later?”

Ghost’s head bobs in a subtle nod, but his eyes are still looking at you with that quizzical expression on his face. He knows something is wrong.

You just subtly shake your head in response, doing your best to a convey a “not now. We’ll talk later” with just a glance. Turning back to the door, you leave the two of them behind to tackle the task at hand. The sooner you crack the encryption and figured out where your target is, the sooner Bex can get the fuck out of here.

Walking across the base, you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, internally scolding yourself for letting your temper get the best of you. The fresh, cool evening air helps calm your sour mood, and you do your best to reassure yourself.

I’m sure it’s nothing.

It’s all in your head.

He probably doesn’t even like redheads.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even see where you were going, which is exactly how you find yourself running face first into the brick wall of Johnny.

Oomph. The air whooshes out of your lungs as two broad hands reach up to steady you.

“Easy there, lass,” the Scottsman chuckles. “Watch where yer goin’ bonnie.”

“Sorry Soap,” your cheeks feel warm with embarrassment. “Didn’t see you there. Lost in my own head.”

“I’ll say!” Johnny claps a hand on your shoulder, the other balancing a stack of folders. “Hey, while I have you here, have ye seen LT?”

“Yeah, he’s with Bex in the briefing room. They’re trying to tackle that computer we lifted from the last mission.”

Soap nods. “More power to her. That shite doesn’t make any fucking sense to me.”

“Yeah. She’s a real blessing to the team,” you grumble, unable to withhold your eye roll.

“There’s that fiery sergeant I love so much,” Soap teases. “Am I getting a whiff a jealousy, hen?”

“Don’t even get me started Soap or I swear to god—“

“Alright, alright,” Soap laughs good naturally, his free hand coming up in mock surrender. “But hey, would you mind dropping off these files to LT? He needs to review them before our meeting with Laswell in a couple hours and I’ve got to meet up with Price now, don’t have time to trek all the way to the briefing room.”

“Sure,” you do manage to hold back your sigh this time. “Happy to help.” And you are happy to help Soap—he’s a great friend to both you and Simon—you just aren’t too happy at the thought of seeing your new BFF Bex again so soon. At least the short walk had served its purpose in cooling your temper a bit.

“You’re a treat, bonnie, I owe you one,” Soap smiles, giving your shoulder a firm pat before taking off in the opposite direction towards price’s office.

You adjust the stack of sealed papers in your hands as your turned back around towards the briefing room and head across base.

You quick steps have you approaching the briefing room soon enough. Surprisingly, the door is left slightly ajar—you must not have shut it all the way when you stormed out of the room earlier, you reason.

You approach silently, softening your footsteps to avoid any kind of noise, a small voice in the back of your mind goading you to surreptitiously see how Bex might behave without an audience. You peer in the room to find Bex and Simon standing at the table, the computer screen lighting up in front of them.

“We’re in!” Bex exclaims, her voice high pitched with excitement.

You watch the scene unfold before you and it feels like the world is moving in slow motion. Bex turns her radiant expression up to face Simon, her hands moving upwards and tucking up under his balaclava, and then—in the blink of an eye—she raises it above his chin and presses a kiss to his lips. Simon’s hands reach up to grasp her wrists, already beginning to pull away, but it’s too late.

You see everything.

The papers fall to the floor with a crash, and both Simon and Bex jump apart, eyes flashing to the door.

Bex at least has the good sense to look embarrassed by her actions, her face flushing bright red, eyes cast to the ground.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Simon urges, pulling his mask back down in place. “Wait—“

You turn and walked out the door, the scene playing on a loop in your head.

Her lips. Pressed up against Simon. Your Simon. His lips…kissing her back? The memory already warps, tinged with shades of red matching the shades of anger running through you.

The rage fuels your steps as you run from the briefing room, desperate to get away.

Simon blinks at the empty space in the doorway, the space where you stood just a second ago, before this colossal shit storm descended.

“Well, sorry we got interrupted,” Bex’s sultry voice breaks the silence, her small hand reaching towards Ghost’s glove. “Should we continue where we left off?”

“Touch me again, and you lose the whole goddamn hand,” Simon’s hardened voice is laced with the threat of violence. “Keep your bloody hands to yourself.”

The blood drains from Bex’s face.

With that, he storms out the door, following your trail. One thought playing on repeat in his mind: I can’t lose her.

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

Read Part 2 here ❤️

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon Riley x 141!Reader #ghost x 141!Reader #141!Reader

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