#but he was Ghosted by force. and now hes just hanging around like Well what the fuck am i supposed to do now. fight the god king i guess

[vanillarosekiss]

His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ part 1.

I saw an instagram reel that inspired me to write this. Listened to Lana del Rey the entire time i was writing…

A/N: Was originally meant to be smut with no plot, but part 2 will have smut.

His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ mood board!

Pairing: Afab!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Summary: Gaz asks Simon to be one of his groomsmen at his wedding (along with the rest of TF141), but he has to walk down the isle with another woman as Gaz’s wife doesn��t know you as well. You and Simon are in an established relationship, and he doesn’t realise how much this makes you jealous.

Warnings: language, hints of angst at some parts?, alcohol consumption, afab!reader, dismissive and slightly argumentative Simon (at first), reader is insecure.

You turn your head as the groomsmen walk down the wedding isle, each with a bridesmaid hanging on their arm, each man sporting a tux that matched the pretty pink dress that the women wore. Every bridesmaid had a small bunch of dusty pink roses, all bundled together in the end to make the bride's bouquet. It was beautiful, a sight to be seen, and you were so happy for Gaz, he was always so nice to you since Simon had - reluctantly - introduced you to the rest of the task force. But you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek as you saw him, your Simon, walking down the aisle with a dainty woman hanging off his arm. The ugly green monster had poisoned you, it was inevitable. You didn't know why you were so deeply jealous, your stomach threatening to flip at the sight. You knew it wasn't as if Simon had chosen for this to happen, he would much rather have you on his arm if he could. It was just that you had barely met Gaz's fiancé before, so didn't have enough relations with her to be a bridesmaid. You didn't hate her for it at all, it was just a bit annoying that Simon had to step up for his own role, never letting down his team for anything, war or not.

You watched as they made their way down the isle and, finally, separated to their opposing sides. The wedding was pretty, the bride looking like an angel up there with her gorgeous white dress, frilled lacing around the hems and a long train that delicately laid on the floor. The couple exchanged vows and kissed once told to, everyone cheering for them in high spirits. You tried to cover your previous feelings of jealousy and bitterness by smiling, managing to catch Simon's eye as you did this. Your smile faltered a little, and he raised his eyebrow slightly, as if he was asking 'what?' from the opposite side of the room to you. You just smiled slightly at him before getting up like everyone else to see the newly married couple out to the after party reception.

As you walked, unknowingly looking gorgeous in your light pink evening dress, a few of the supposedly single men near you gave a few looks and compliments which you begrudgingly yet kindly accepted. Not even a few moments later you felt the oh so familiar feeling of Simon's hands snaking around your waist, his larger figure guiding you instinctively.

"What did they want?" He asked instantly, already feeling protective over you.

"What? Oh, they just said they liked my dress." You say, twisting their words a little to save an argument.

"Bullshit." He replies with a flat tone, his hands still possessively round your waist.

"Don't." You say gently, almost warning him, both of you walking now into the main room where all the guests mingled and socialised whilst Gaz and his wife prepared to cut their cake.

"Don't what?" He says, almost sarcastically. Too sarcastic for your liking. So you decide to change the subject in means of retaliating.

"You two looked nice together." You say, referring to him and the bridesmaid whom he had to walk down the isle with.

"Who?" He asks, oblivious.

"Her." You say, pointing her out, she was talking to a few of the other groomsmen near the buffet table.

He laughs a little, not picking up on your subtle tone of annoyance. But when he doesn't hear you laugh, he looks at you, your facial expression neutral.

"Oh come on, love. You can't be serious." He scoffs, his hands not on you at that moment, "You know I couldn't change anything, it's Gaz's wedding for God's sake. You know I didn't choose to do this myself."

You don't say anything, deciding you didn't want to argue, watching as the cake was cut. Simon takes note of this, his eyes following yours.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" You say, admiring the bride's dress and appearance. Simon immediately picked up on a hint of self depreciation, knowing that you were probably comparing yourself to her. It wasn't a secret that you weren't always confident in yourself, but you didn't like to talk about it with Simon. He always respected your wishes, still aware of your issue though.

Simon hummed in response, not really concentrating as he wrapped his arms around you again, his head resting on your shoulder.

"You're pretty. Unreal." He mumbles into your skin, pressing a few kisses on your collarbone and neck.

You didn't really react, just whispering a small 'thank you', before pulling away slightly. He didn't force you to stay in his arms, knowing what you were like sometimes.

You both ended up talking to lots of people, socialising for a while before you decided to get on the dance floor, tipsy after downing almost 3 tequila shots and a small handful of mixed drinks before that.

Simon sat and watched you from a distance, keeping an eye to make sure no one would try anything, and to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself by accident. He loved watching you, not in a creepy way, but just admiring how lovely you were. Your dress complimented your figure perfectly, fitting tight like a glove. He was disheartened that you put yourself down so much. He saw that you were beautiful, but he could never seem to get you to believe his words when he complimented you.

After an hour or so, Simon decided that you were getting a little too unstable for his liking, and got you off the main floor, his arms holding you steady under your ribs. He sat you down on a chair gently, asking if you had had fun as he carefully undid the straps of your heels, his hands caressing your calves as he took your shoes off and carried them for you. When you said goodbye to everyone, he carried you outside to his car and put you in the passenger seat, doing your seatbelt for you, although you protested, pouting and saying that you could 'do it yourself'.

He laughed softly at you, "Whatever you say, baby” he kissed your lips sweetly.

He got in the driver's side and started the car, to drive you both back to his apartment.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Thinking about reader finally stumbling onto one of the dogs shifted into their human form. Maybe Soap raiding the cabinets in the kitchen for a late night snack? Reader obviously freaks tf out about a whole ass man in their house... but the rest of the force are still in their dog forms. Reader's confused why their once very protective dogs are completely okay with this strange man in their house, and why this man is claiming to be one of her dogs.

(Note that these answers are non-linear! I’ll be having fun with a few more asks/requests as if this hasn’t happened yet 😉)

All you wanted was some water to ease the dryness in your throat, but as soon as they noticed you picking up your phone from the bedside table, the dogs kept tugging at your clothes to hold you back—something they never did. You swatted them away without thinking much of it, though, too sleep-adled to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for good reason.

And then you saw the man in your kitchen.

“Why are you naked.”

It wasn’t much of a question. More of a statement—or an exaggeration, really—because he wasn’t naked. He was just wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, exposing a deep V-line and a happy trail that would’ve had you drooling if not for the sheer strangeness of the circumstances. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should be afraid—because it was comedic, the way he locked eyes with you, halfway through chomping down on a spoonful of cereal from not even a bowl, but a mug.

He swallows hard, and that’s when you grab a knife—earning several barks from your dogs. At you. Not him.

“He’s literally the intruder here!” you argue back. “You bark at, like, every other guy? What about him?! He’s massive!”

“Aw, thank y—“

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

The man’s smile tightens as he slowly puts the mug and spoon down, and lifts his hands as if in surrender. 

“Easy, lass,” he continues, eyes darting between your face and the knife. “I’m a friend.”

“The fuck you are—“

“Look. Look.” He gestures back and forth between himself and the dogs, who stand in place between you two. “You’re missin’ a pup, aren’t ya? Foxhound that gets into everything? Soap? Thah’s me!”

‘Me?’ What the hell was this guy thinking? But sure enough—just as he said—Soap was missing from the group. It was just Price, Ghost, and Gaz—all tense like you. If not more so. Gaz offers a whine in negotiation, stepping forward to get you to back up a little further, away from the stranger. There’s a beg—no—an intelligent plea in the Labrador’s eyes that nearly makes you falter, unsure of reason or rhyme.

Unsure of yourself.

“That’s— that’s not possible,” you laugh nervously, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “Dogs don’t turn into people, or vice versa. Now get out of my house or I’m calling the poli—“

— “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

And now there’s a third fucking person. Standing in your kitchen. Right where Price used to be. And now the shock runs cold, adrenaline gone in place of confusion. And a quick skip through the stages of grief into acceptance.

“Well,” is all that gets out of your mouth. “Shit.”

The world spins, and everything goes black. You’re out like a light. All you see is ‘human-Price’ moving forward, then darkness, and the sensation of two arms catching you before you hit the floor.

The boys hang around until morning light after that, sitting in the living room in dead silence. At least until Gaz gives a final suggestion.

“… You think we can pass it off as a dream?”

_

Bonus Thoughts:

You do, in fact, wake up as if it were a dream. Because you’re back in bed per usual, and the house is in order, and the dogs are piled around you like nothing ever happened. You eye them all suspiciously, then slap yourself. Because what kind of weirdo imagines her pets as hot, tall, buff men? Pervert.

Meanwhile, the boys are just exchanging the quietest glances before you settle back in bed. Because for a good few seconds, they think they’ve been discovered.

Also Soap has suffered a collective *bap* from everyone because it’s what he deserves for threatening their free food supply.

[hello-eden]

Unexpected Hope

Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 

He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.

He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 

Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 

He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.

She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.

Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 

Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.

 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.

 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’

The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 

“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.

“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.

Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.

“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.

“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”

 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 

“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 

Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.

 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 

“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 

Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 

“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.

“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”

“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien

 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 

They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.

“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.

He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.

“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 

“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 

“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 

Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.

[nanenna]

A bit of detective work

A continuation of this post, now separated so you don't have to scroll forever to get to the newest installment. Also: masterpost

---

After escorting the Fentons back to their home, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Constantine mutually agreed it was best to stick around Amity Park for a little while. Constantine wandered off to look around on the civilian side, while Batman of course kept his promise to excuse Danny from school. Wonder Woman, also of course, kept with him. Sadly even as a very prominent member of the Justice League, well known to be one of the founders, somehow in situations like this it always took twice as long to get anywhere with civilians if he didn’t have at least one other League member with him.

“Hello, how can I help you?” the secretary asked with a forced grin as the two heroes entered the school’s front office.

“Good morning,” Diana said cheerfully, thankfully taking point. “I’m not sure who we should speak to, we’re here to excuse a student.”

“Oh, you are?” The secretary looked unsure, glancing back and forth between the two heroes.

“Yes, he’s currently marked with an unexcused absence, we’re here to change it to an excused absence.”

“Right…” the secretary squinted up at them suspiciously. Or rather, up at Diana suspiciously. “Well, if you would just hold on one moment please.” The secretary picked up an old style land line and pressed a button. “Principal Ishiyama, there’s a Mr. Batman and a… Ms. Wonder Woman here, they wish to speak about a student’s absence.” The secretary made a few “I’m listening” sounds before hanging up. They turned their attention back to the League members. “Principal Ishiyama’s office is just down that hall.”

“Thank you!” Diana beamed at the secretary before walking confidently down the hallway, Batman at his side.

The inside of Principal Ishiyama’s office is rather cramped,clearly intended pubescent children and not adults who keep such active lifestyles. Diana graciously sits in one of the austere, hard chairs. Batman chooses to remain standing.

“Now, what’s this all about?” Ishiyama asked, eyeing Wonder Woman warily.

How odd, it was usually Batman that everyone eyed suspiciously.

“We’re here about Daniel Fenton’s absence,” Diana started. She paused long enough for the principal to pull up the young man’s information. “The investigation is ongoing so we can’t give out any details, but last night we rescued Danny from kidnappers. He has been returned to his parents, but for obvious reasons he will not be back in school today.”

“Ah, I see,” the principal said. She did not seem to see. “And you want his absence excused?”

“If the police had come to you saying he’d been kidnapped,” Batman stated clinically.

“Yes, right, of course.” The principal set about clicking a few things on her computer before returning her full attention to the heroes. “Was there anything else?”

It was almost refreshing how easy that had been. Normally Batman would have to lay out what he meant in excruciating detail and have whoever was with him repeat it before a civilian in half a position of power listened to him, outside of Gotham anyway. “Dr. Madeline Fenton was upset not to have been informed of Danny’s absence,” Batman stated.

Ishiyama flinched, “Oh dear. Thank you for warning me, I shall look into that before they arrive later.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Dr. Madeline Fenton also stated that everyone in Amity Park knows about the Ghost King.”

“Ghost King?” The principal looked up in surprise, “What does he…? No wait, ongoing investigation.” She side eyed Diana warily, then sighed as she looked back towards Batman. “Last year the Ghost King got out of his sarcophagus, we still don’t know how, and pulled all of Amity Park into the Ghost Zone. Fortunately Phantom, along with the help of most of the town, managed to put him back in the sarcophagus.”

“Why didn’t you contact the Justice League for help?” Diana asked with a frown on her face.

“How were we supposed to do that from inside the Ghost Zone?” The principal asked with a raised brow. “By the time we were back in the real world everything was over and dealt with, aside from cleaning up all the damage his army of skeletons did.”

“And Phantom is?” Batman prompted.

“Out local hero, I suppose. At first he was a menace, but recently the good he does far outweighs the inevitable collateral damage.”

Batman leaned forward, looming over Ishiyama’s desk. “Are you aware the Justice League has programs specifically meant to give support to minors doing hero work?”

“I was not, but considering Phantom is a ghost we’re not sure exactly how old he is. Either way, you’re here now.”

“Yes, and we should speak with the mayor about the supervillain attack recovery programs the Justice League also has.”

Ishiyama smiled and nodded along, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Once out of the school and walking towards city hall, Diana turned to Bruce. “Phantom is a minor?”

“He is described as appearing to be in his mid-teens, strangely no photos of him despite there being photos of other ghosts all over the residents’ social medias and newspaper articles.”

“That is odd,” Diana mused.

“This whole town is odd,” Constantine said as he sidled up to them. “Apparently getting sucked into, and I quote, the lime jello dimension by the ghost king is just another Tuesday here.”

“The principal called it the Ghost Zone,” Diana supplied.

“A silly thing to call the Infinite Realms, but not the silliest name it’s been given over the eons. What I don’t get is how Pariah Dark got bloody out for a day and not one single person noticed, that should’ve been a huge event everyone even remotely sensitive to æther should’ve felt.”

“You believe someone intentionally hid this event?” Batman asked.

“It’s the only thing that makes a lick of sense, but that would take either someone scarily powerful or a group of very powerful people. And that’s not even getting into the why.”

“Perhaps this cult wasn’t the first to attempt to summon him,” Batman mused darkly. “Someone chose to release him, and since Amity Park is already a ghost hotspot I can see why this is where they’d choose to attempt such a thing.”

Constantine nodded along, “I was thinking the same thing. But it gets worse, no one in the JLD has heard or sensed a single thing about this town before today. I’m thinking it’s less someone chose to cloak Pariah Dark specifically and more someone is cloaking the whole town and everything going on inside it.”

“Then how did whoever freed Pariah Dark know to come here for their attempt?” Diana asked, “How did this cult know enough to use one of the residents as a sacrifice?”

“Ain’t that just the million pound question?” Constantine asked airily. “Along with: how did they even get into the Infinite Realms to let the bloody tyrant out?” The group fell into silence, no one having an answer to that question. “So, what next?”

“We’re heading to the mayor’s office to make sure they’re aware of Justice League resources that are available to anyone who’s suffered from villain attacks,” Diana answered.

“Despite numerous attacks and complaints of collateral damage, not one request from Amity Park for villain attack relief,” Batman added.

“Now that is interesting,” Constantine said.

[whateveriwant]

what about task force 141 always admiring their s/o picture before going on field or when they’re feeling lonely and missing them

Price

Because he's old (fashioned), he carries a standard 4x6in photo of you with him during his deployment

He had the picture developed ages ago – so long, in fact, you thought he'd gotten rid of it many many tours ago (he never would, of course; he even has an extra copy of the negative stowed in a shoebox in the back of your shared closet, just in case)

Every day, he makes sure your face is the first thing he sees when he wakes up, as well as the last thing he looks at before going to sleep (just like he would if he was home with you)

When he's not admiring the photo, he keeps it in the breast pocket of his tac vest directly over his heart

He's folded and unfolded it so many times that it's starting to fade and tear at the seams, showing just how loved it is all these years later

Gaz

I can see him having a locket with a tiny picture of you inside

Just a little circular gold pendant, no bigger than the pad of first finger, which he hangs around his neck right beside his dog tags

He bought a matching one for you (which you wear all the time, regardless of whether he's home or not), the only difference is yours is heart-shaped and has a picture of him inside

Most of the time, he'll keep the locket tucked safely beneath his shirt, but will pull it out and look at it on days he's feeling particularly lonely or homesick

However, sometimes (especially when he's anxious about an upcoming mission), he doesn't even look at the picture inside – just worries the surface of the pendant with his thumb, rubbing at the thin grooves that form the looped letters of your initials

Soap

Similar to Price, he carries a larger picture of you with him – his, however, is a polaroid

You bought him the vintage style camera for his birthday a few years back, and immediately upon unwrapping it, he started snapping a bunch of candid photos of you with it

Despite how unflattering you say you look in them, he thinks you're absolutely gorgeous (after all, that's why he carries multiple with him – his favorite one always on the top of the stack)

If he can get away from the guys during the mission, he often finds himself talking out loud to the photo, speaking as if you're really there listening to him

As much as he loves to study your face, his favorite part of the polaroid is your little note scrawled across the bottom: Any more chins and I'll be using your parachute as a scarf

Ghost

This might be a little controversial but I don't think he'd carry around a physical picture of you

Pictures of you on his phone? Sure. But he's not taking his unencrypted smartphone into the middle of enemy territory, you know?

Instead, I think he carries a little trinket of yours with him – something small, seemingly inconsequential, like a hair tie or one of your favorite bookmarks

You might've noticed some things gone missing here and there, but never realized that he was nabbing them for his own little keepsake

He keeps it hidden away majority of the time, but every now and then when he starts to downward spiral, he'll pull out that token as a reminder of what (or whom) he has waiting for him back home, and it gives him the strength he needs to power through

[rodolfoparras]

Til Death do us apart (or doesn’t)

Pairing: Bottom Male Reader x Top Male Character

cw: 18+, dubious consent, paranormal activity, cheating, ghost sex

Thinking about you, a widower trying to move on in life, finding yourself a respectable man who loves you, and even letting him move into the house that your late husband built for you.

For a while life seems to be going great, that is of course until things start moving around the house and you start hearing strange sounds and at night it’s like you feel the ghost of a touch brushing over your cheek or hand.

Sometimes you’ll even feel it in the most intimate places- a cold hand stroking you over your briefs, and thumbing at your tip til you’re weeping through the fabric. Sometimes you’ll feel something big and solid rubbing up against the cleft of your ass, never once attempting to remove the fabric, just rutting against you, as if testing the waters.

At times you’ll wake up with a raging boner other times you’ll wake up to find out you’ve came in your pajamas pants.

At first you think it must be your boyfriend, and although you don’t mind you’d rather he wake you up for the fun instead of leaving you hanging like that. However he seems absolutely clueless to what you’re talking about.

Eventually you’re forced to chalk it up to having really vivid dreams but soon things start getting more intense, and you start dreaming of these cold hands roughly parting your legs till the muscles in your thighs ache, calloused fingers brushing over the furely ring of muscles before they’re forcing their way inside of you, prodding and poking against the sensetive wall of nerves and leaving you soaked all over.

You don’t mention these specific dreams to your boyfriend, fearing he’ll start thinking you’re crazy if you do that. Instead you try to work the tension out. It could very well be that you’re just really pent up. So you have him fuck you and make you cum over and over til your hole is all puffy and soar and his cum is leaking out but it never seems to be enough and you find yourself feeling disappointed as you curl up into his arms.

And it’s one of these nights where you stir from your sleep, body still soar from previous activities but instead of being surrounded by your boyfriend’s heat you’re plunged into frigid air, and forced down on all four on the bed.

What’s going on? You think to yourself, eyes searching the dark room only to see your boyfriend laying there dead asleep, completely oblivious to what’s happening.

You try to call out for him but it’s like you can’t speak, tongue practically tied up and when you try to reach out for him, you find yourself unable to move your body, as if something has pinned you to the mattress.

Suddenly you feel something big, cold and solid rutting against your ass, and it’s then you realize that this is very much like one of the many wet dreams you’ve had.

The wet dreams you’ve been silent about. The wet dreams where a strange entity will come crawling into your bedroom whenever your boyfriend has failed to make you satisfied. Wet dreams that usually involved having something big and solid rut against your ass, obscene squelching sound ringing out with every thrust because your ass is still dripping with your boyfriend cum, before they fuck you the way you want to be fucked.

Loud grunts and groans escape your lips as you subconsciously buck your hips, body too familiar with whatever’s doing this while your mind is telling you to get out of here, this isn’t a dream, this isn’t your boyfriend doing this, you’re practically being felt up by something- someone unknown and you should get out of here!

However there isn’t much more room for thought as that very something- someone plunges straight into your sopping wet hole, leaving you surging forward onto the bed, head now buried in the mattress and ass left out in the open.

This time you try to yelp in surprise, haven’t expected the sudden movements of whatever’s holding you down but just like before you’re unable to speak, and you finds yourself laying soundless on the sheets, letting whatever use you as they please.

Whatever has you pinned beneath their body, takes full advantage of this, pulls their cock all the way out before slamming back inside, slowing down every once a while before driving back up to you again, slamming so deep into you you can practically taste them, all while you can only soundlessly gape like a fish on land.

And from this angle you can’t really see what or who’s doing this- only left to feel how they’re erratically driving up into you, stretching you wide til it burns your ass even though you’re dripping with your boyfriends cum and they’re pumping their pre inside you.

Each thrusts of their hips, sends a wave of pleasure running through your body and it doesn’t take much before you’re withering on the sheets, muted sobs escaping your lips.

Please, god please

You want to cry out but find yourself just slobbering all over the mattress.

Somehow the pace increases, the sheer force of the thrusts practically rocks the bed and you can’t help but wondered if your boyfriend has woken up yet, if he’s laying there looking horrified while you’re getting fucked right in front of him.

And instead of being horrified yourself you can’t help but be turned on at the thought of it , hole subconsciously clenching down onto the dick.

That very someone- something must’ve felt youve finally given in, and wraps a hand around your weeping dick, roughly strokes from rot to tip while continuously slamming their hips.

Yes, yes, yes- God, please!

With each thrust you feel heat coiling in your gut, before you suddenly cum, ears ringing world blurring out as you spill all over the mattress and the hand wrapped around you.

And it’s not long before the rough pounding turns into firm rolls of the hips, and that very someone finally cums inside you, thick hot spurts of cum filling up your ass, even leaves it trickling out of you.

And when you finally come down from your high, you notice you can move again, tongue running to say a thousand words as you turn to look at the mirror behind you.

You’re met with the sight of yourself down all four, hole gaping and dripping with someone’s cum, but with no one else beside you.

“Honey?”

[the-californicationist]

Mirror Image

The 141 boys buy a mirror for your bedroom... (TW: elements of cnc)

Gaz is the type of guy who would leave you filthy little notes written on it in your own expensive lipstick, knowing good and well you'd drag him to the shops to buy you three more. They start off tame -- Flash yourself for me, babe ;) -- but now, weeks later, after plenty of mirror-related games, you wake up to your largest dildo suctioned to the glass with a little post-it stuck to the fat tip that says -- Suck it til you come. Send me the vid xx. And when he finally gets home, he gives your pussy plenty of hard cock to keep you full while you show him how deep you can swallow your toy.

Ghost catches you staring at yourself in it one night. He'd just taken you out for your anniversary dinner, and you were admiring the silky black dress he'd bought you, admiring how your nipples are just barely visible through the thin fabric. "Like what you see, missus? ...'cause I fuckin' do." His hand traced its way around your ribs, reaching for your freely hanging breast, plucking ever so delicately at your peak beneath the silk and making you squirm. Before you know it, your dress is rucked up above your thighs, the neckline shoved down to show off those bouncing tits, and you're so full of his drooling prick that you can hardly see straight.

Soap doesn't hang it on the wall. Oh, no. That baby is positioned right above the bed, retro-style, and every night (...every. night.) he pounds into you, making you watch yourself over his shoulder, letting you see the way his muscles ripple and pop in his shoulders and legs as he ruts into you endlessly. Sometimes, he makes you ride him reversed, your juicy ass directly in his line of sight. He forces your hips to hump him at a wild pace, even if you beg him to let you take a break, yanking your hair down your back and forcing your face up toward the mirror so he can wink at you in the dark glass.

Price comes home early one night and catches you touching yourself in the soft glow of the mirror's backlight. You have it on the floor, propped up at an angle, you fingers plunging deep inside your wet holes, eyes fixated on the way your pussy glistens in front of you. "She's pretty, innit she?" You gasp, hurrying to try and cover yourself, but he catches you by the nape of your neck, tossing you like a ragdoll on all fours, shoving your face into the cold glass. "Give 'er a kiss, love." You don't understand what he's asking at first, but he doesn't wait. You feel his fat cockhead stretching you so wide that it burns, slipping into your slick slit inch by punishing inch, and his hand crushes into the sides of your throat, forcing your jaw to make contact with the glass. "C'mon, sweetheart. Show me how you use that mouth." So, you obey, kissing your own reflection, making a mess of the smooth glass with your lips and tongue, your hot breath and ragged screams fogging up the reflection.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

You all know what time it is ( and body dysmorphia is mentioned a few times just thought I would let you know!)

🐍Snake empress Danny🐍

Ok let’s go, So you all know the drill Danny has to booket it out of amity ( GIW, Bad Fenton) and just for a bit more angst everyone who he loves ( Sam, Tucker, jazz) got caught up in the nasty burger explosion and the GIW hit Dani and as a last minute decision Danny has to grow her in himself and because he has the organs for baby incubation ( trans! Danny let’s go! ) so now we have a heavily traumatized teen who is going to be a teen mom and just loss his whole support system and everything he’s ever known yeah we going angsty today anyway so when Danny gets to the ghost zone he a immediately goes to clockwork to help him so after Danny gets healed up a bit and calm down the best he can right now and

now let’s move the pov for a sec so clockwork can’t really take care of Danny and he needs to fine someone who can that’s when he remembers the little pocket dimension that is a little bit hard to go to if your not looking for it so clockwork brings Danny there and on a cliff top there is a abandoned castle that is overgrown and has trees all around it and a healthy population of snakes that equally watch over the place and keeping outsiders OUT and do not tolerate people who are not a part of the …. Group, pack? Wtf do you call a group of snakes { ok so I just looked up what a group of snakes is called and apparently it’s called a den, pit or nest so I’ll be using that information} den and are very picky about who is in the nest and who isn’t but surprisingly the little danger noodles decide that Danny’s friend shaped and now his part of the nest ( also before I forget to mention there is a big ass snake that is the main protection for the others and the castle itself ) and he’s mostly doing things around with the snakes wrapped limply around his neck and shoulders or his arm and or legs they just like hanging around Danny for the most part

And for the JL side of this well you remember that this place is its own little pocket dimension well it is connected to the JL universe and it sorta feels like your in a Fea area not uncomfortable just different, it has a passage in Gotham City to a overgrown manhole cover so somehow Damien finds this manhole in the garden of Wayne manner and Bruce grounded ( aka benched ) him and Alfred is shopping and nobody’s home so it’s just him and he decides to go into the manhole cover it leeds down to a large tunnel so big it is a surprise nobody has found it yet so Damian walks down it for about 2 to 4 minutes before he sees another cover and has to use a lot of force to open it and as he climbs out he sees that it was overgrown to the point that the vines were wiring the thing shut and as Damien looks around he dust himself off he sees that he is in a large forest almost to large if this place was really Gotham than this would have been cut down years before it got like this so he walks around and than he gets to a lagoon it looks like no pollution got here as well that’s when he sees them a person the person has long white hair that looks to be in some kind of braid with silver chains and their wearing what seem like a bunch of white fabric at first glance but is you really look it seems to be a dress but that’s not what really brings his attention to this person it is the snake that are wrapped limply around them one black one that hangs off their shoulders and looks some what of a necklace and they are holding what seems to be a large black marble bowl ( the bowl is for some of the aquatic plants some birds ended up eating most of the aquatic plant and there are almost none left so he’s getting some from the lagoon) 

And that’s all for the moment. Now on to the details of this bitch!

I’m thinking Danny looks a little bit like this

The reason he wears this is because it’s easier to walk around in ( not to mention the moment the rest of the den realized he was with fetus Dani ( or Eleanor I like that name better for her it gives her a bit of her own personality instead of just Danny clone) the big snake who were going to call Vesper ( you get it ) started to carry him around and while sleeping he would wrap around him to keep him warm ok got a bit off track

And for his hair I’m thinking he lets it grow out a bit and the little danger noodles like to bring him bits and pieces of things they think he might like so he ends up with this

But instead of gold I’m thinking silver

Also just some pics of what I think the castle will look like in some places

Anyway that’s all from me byeeee 

[lundenloves]

dad!simon headcannons part 2

Oh we all have issues don’t we? The fact this whole dad!simon series is doing so well makes me sit back and grin. We’re all damaged together. Now now, no one go off wandering we must stick together troops. The mystical path of paternal issues is highly dangerous.

These are my 1am thoughts. i need this man biblically.

dad!simon masterlist | hc 1

This man has the strongest genes of all time. Like his kids look the spit of him, absolute 1:1 replicas. Except they’re little girls like that’s so fucking cute stop i’m putting my weapons down. Head in my fucking hands. FUCK.

His kids colour in his tattoos. And he’ll go to work the next day with like a big fuck off red and blue sleeve, and 141 are all like new ink Lt? Met with a sarcastic narrowed eye nod. Obviously.

You best believe he’s mad sensitive about his girls. Like anytime someone brings them up, he’s straight onto that shit like staring. And it’ll literally be Price saying how sweet they are or smth 💀

When his eldest daughter is like I wanna do the forces too he’s all like absolutely not.

It’s probably like the one thing he’s stubborn on. He loves his job, for him. Not for his daughters. He could talk for days on why it’s not happening.

“Don’t care. Not happening, pet.”

His youngest could not be less interested in the forces. Probably wants to be a singer or something completely unrelated. Simon has no idea how that happened but he’s thankful to whoever is up there in the sky.

The kids be asking him for robux or some dumb asf online money and he’s all like: what i’m spending real money to give you virtual money? No.

Dad Is A Climbing Frame™️

This man could hang like four kids off his arms. Let’s say he has three. One would be hugging around his neck, the other two hung onto his arms by their small hands and legs joined around his biceps. Koala style mf.

You walk in and ignore it.

Usual antics in the Riley household.

Also definitely does push-ups with the kids on his back. They’re roaring laughing at how funny it is to be moved up and down while sitting. just like me fr. All three of them sat on his back when you walk into the living room one morning. “Mornin’.”

School parent nights. Stop. i’ll have to do a whole thing ab this. someone remind me. I just know this man would rather be anywhere else on the planet than at one of those. You however do not let him slip.

“I’m not sleeping, just resting my eyes.”

The kids draw family pictures of him with the mask on. Always a place on the fridge for one of them, slap a magnet on top. Bosh. This also kickstarts an obsession with skeleton things, inspiring many a poorly made halloween costume.

“If they ask you what you’re supposed to be just say a skeleton or summat.”

“But i’m Ghost.”

“You’re a skeleton, kid.”

“Then so are you.” Said with a frown.

Getting told off by his daughters for doing things wrong 25/8. This man cannot cut tomatoes the way they approve of to save his life. “That’s not how mum does it.”

“I’m not mum.”

taglist? fill out this form.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Taglist: @sketchscientist @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @liishook @abbsaura @takeomisbitch

if you would like to be removed from a taglist, pm me.

[megalony]

The Threat Of You

As promised, this is my new Eddie Diaz imagine, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie, (Y/n) and their kids haven't long moved into their new home, and the neighbour takes a worrying liking to (Y/n). Which causes a few problems and puts their family at risk.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here, everyone take one please." (Y/n) opened the boot and leaned her hip against the side of the car. Her hand moved to her temple, trying to will away the headache that was throbbing behind her eyes.

It was one of those headaches that made her feel sick; exactly what she didn't need right now. Her hand moved down from her temple to run across her stomach where the baby was starting to liven up and do twists. That, combined with her headache alone was enough to make (Y/n) sure she was going to be sick soon.

She forced herself to smile when the kids hurried over to the boot and one by one, they leaned in to take a bag of shopping each. Trixie got to (Y/n) first and she held her hands out, waited to be handed a bag as usual and once she had one, the six year old headed over to the front door.

A soft smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she looked at Lilah. Her youngest was holding out her left hand, while her right hand was bound to her chest like it had been for the last two weeks. Lilah had fallen in the playground at nursery and subsequently broke her right arm just below her wrist. She now had a foam cast on her arm which she constantly cradled to her chest, not daring to move it at all.

"Thank you baby," (Y/n) murmured and held out the lightest thing Lilah would be able to carry, the bag of crisps.

Chris looped a bag over his elbow, letting it swing back into his crutch while Liv leaned over him to take two of the heavier bags so her mum wouldn't have to carry them.

The eldest looked up at her mum with a raised brow and a half smirk that made her look so much like her dad. She looked down at Chris stood at her side before both of them looked back at their mum when she took a bag in each hand.

"Dad said you can't."

"He'll have a fit if he sees you." Liv quipped with a grin, glancing between the house and her mum.

All four kids knew their mum hadn't been very well lately, and they knew what Eddie was like when any of them were unwell. They had heard Eddie give (Y/n) the riot act when she tried to climb on the bed to hang the curtain rail that came down or when she was carrying boxes around the house.

(Y/n) had had a placental abruption last month- Liv was the only kid who understood what that meant, being fourteen- and that meant (Y/n) was now on light duties at home. She couldn't do any heavy lifting or straining and Eddie made sure all the kids knew that so they could help around the house.

First (Y/n) had the abruption, and then two weeks ago Lilah broke her arm which sent Eddie into another spiral. He didn't need anymore stress or anyone else getting hurt or injured.

"Good job he's in bed then." (Y/n) rose a brow and smiled as the followed the two of them inside where Trixie and Lilah had already made a beeline into the kitchen.

Eddie had been on a double shift and came home about half eight in the morning. He had seen the kids get up and then proceeded to go straight to bed himself, he hadn't had a chance to catch even one hour of sleep in the bunker room and he had been dead on his feet. (Y/n) thought it would be better to take all the kids out shopping with her this morning.

It let Eddie have a while to himself to sleep and kept (Y/n) and the kids busy doing the shopping.

She followed the pair of them inside, noting that Trixie had dumped the bags in front of the cabinet and was eagerly searching for her new colouring book. And Lilah was stood near the fridge, broken arm cradled to her chest while she smiled sweetly.

"Can I go sit with daddy?"

"He's asleep sweetheart, leave him be please."

She watched the way Lilah's shoulders slumped before she nodded and shuffled glumly into the living room. She wanted Eddie, she hadn't technically seen him in two days since he had been at work and all she got this morning was a bear hug and a kiss before he had to get in bed, lest he wanted to fall asleep standing up.

(Y/n) put the bags down, murmuring a soft "Unpack please," to the three of them before she trudged back down the hall to go get the last bag and her handbag from the car.

She hooked her bag on her shoulder and grabbed the few toys the girls had left in the back of the car. But when she leaned up and shut the door, a gasp tumbled past her lips and she pushed back into the side of the car.

"Want some help?"

An uneasy, worried smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she looked Adam up and down. The guy from next door. The one who was always a little too friendly, a little too eager to be around and help and get in the way by all accounts.

They hadn't long moved to this house, less than two months ago they had moved here because they needed more space. And this house was closer to both schools for the kids and to the station, and somehow, they were even closer to Buck's apartment which he thought was brilliant.

The only downside with this house was the new neighbours on the right. The elderly couple on the left were lovely, (Y/n) and Eddie got along with them great. But Adam, he was a whole other conversation entirely. He seemed to take a liking to (Y/n) and he came out of the woodworks when Eddie was either out at work or in bed after a long shift. He always seemed to know when Eddie wasn't around so he could get close to (Y/n).

She noticed the way he was already leaning in the car to try and take the last bag of shopping and it made her feel paranoid. She didn't want Adam's help and she didn't appreciate him trying to reach into the car without waiting for an answer.

(Y/n) squeezed past him, noting the way he leaned closer to her when she had to shuffle closer to the car to get past him.

She wormed past him and grabbed the bag, closing the boot swiftly and almost catching his hand when she slammed it shut. She didn't want his help. (Y/n) would rather not have him hanging around or getting too close like he seemed to try and do a lot lately.

"No thanks, I can manage." She looped the bag on her elbow and tried to walk past him, but Adam leaned closer with a smile, darting in her path.

He made her uneasy. He was too close, always too close. He was always making sure he hung around when Eddie wasn't nearby. Last week he was hanging around the front while (Y/n) tried to do some gardening. He made her so uncomfortable to the point she just stopped and went inside.

When she was out with the kids while they were playing in the back garden, somehow, Adam was also out in his garden, leering over the fence with a cheesy smile and a worrying look in his eyes. When she walked the kids to school, he was always outside when she was alone on her way back.

(Y/n) had an awful feeling that one day, he was going to be stood at the window when she opened the curtains one morning.

"I don't mind, I'll take that for you. You should be taking things easy." He reached for the bag again but (Y/n) sidestepped until her hip bumped into the car.

"Hm, I'm fine."

She tried to speed up and aim for the front door, ready to close it in Adam's face once she was back inside. (Y/n) was tired of being polite when he just wouldn't stop coming by and pestering them. Pestering her.

"Maybe I could come inside-"

"I don't think so, I've got my kids to look after." She gave the door a nudge and quickly placed the shopping bag down beside her. But her eyes widened and she straightened up so fast her head started to spin and her hand reached out for the door to steady herself.

She felt Adam's hand wander down to her bum.

She spun round on her heels, one hand on the door and the other differing between reaching out to slap him and holding her hip. A fire blazed in her eyes as she quickly glanced behind her, trying to make sure none of the kids had seen that. But when her eyes caught sight of Liv's hair whipping across her shoulders as she bolted down the hall, (Y/n) sighed.

Liv was going to get Eddie. She had seen what Adam just did and she was going to wake Eddie and tell him.

(Y/n) tightened her hand around the door, pushing it until there was only a small gap so she could look out at the creep on the doorstep.

He was leant forward, shoulders hunched over, hands on either side of the doorframe with one leg cocked forward. The sleezy smirk on his face was off-putting and he quirked one brow as if he thought (Y/n) was actually going to let him inside.

What kind of person did he take her for? Did he really believe that (Y/n), who had four kids and another one on the way, would willingly have some sort of affair or get close with the neighbour?

She hadn't led him on in any way for him to get those sorts of ideas and he wasn't giving up. But he would soon, he wouldn't have a choice if Eddie was about to find out what he'd been up to. (Y/n) had mentioned once or twice to Eddie that the new neighbour seemed a little too close for comfort and Eddie said he would keep an eye on him. But of course, Adam was doing things when Eddie wasn't around.

"Unless you want my husband to come out there and throttle you for that inappropriate touch, you'd better get off our drive."

(Y/n) didn't give him chance to answer, she simply slammed the door shut just as his lips curved into a frown of disappointment.

Skidding down the hallway, Liv twisted to the left and burst through the bedroom door. It felt wrong barging into her parent's room when she knew Eddie was sleeping. He had been a firefighter for years now and the mix of days and nights had always been routine. All the kids knew if Eddie did a night shift or a double shift and he went to bed, they should let him sleep.

Sometimes they would sneak in trying to be quiet and stealth and they would have a power nap with him. Eddie loved waking up with a kid tucked under each arm or one laid out on his chest.

The blackout blind made the room pitch black like it was the middle of the night because Eddie hated sleeping in a light room. The natural light from the hallway seeped into the battleship grey bedroom and Liv bounded over to the bed, her sights set on her dad.

Eddie was laid out in the middle of the bed. The cover was tangled around his ankles, his arms were both sprawled out on the pillows and his head was submerged between both pillows like he was trying to blend in or suffocate himself. He resembled a starfish with the way he sprawled out. He was taking advantage of having no kids in bed to kick and push and lay on top of him.

"Dad! Dad!" She hissed, kneeling on the edge of the bed as she reached over and gripped his bicep, giving a rough shake to wake him up.

"Hmm." A guttural grunt passed Eddie's lips and muffled into the pillow pressed over his face.

He barely managed to crack his eyes open and he tried to lift his head, squinting until he realised it was Liv prodding him. He knew she wouldn't wake him unless she really needed something or something was wrong, and she was fourteen now. She was too old to try and take a power nap with Eddie during the day like this.

"What's up Carino?" He feathered his hand along her arm before he reached up to run his palm up and down his face, waking himself up a bit more. He dragged his fingers through his hair which stuck up in all directions as if he had been electrocuted.

"That guy from next door, he- he just touched mum up."

"What?"

Eddie livened up immediately, pushing up on his hands until he was knelt up in the middle of the bed. He let Liv grab his wrist and yank him off the bed, pulling until Eddie fumbled over his feet and gathered his balance and his senses.

He gripped the doorframe, swinging himself around the corner as Liv finally let go and hurried down the hall.

Eddie took a peek in the kitchen on his way past, seeing Chris and Trixie sat at the kitchen table. Colouring books in front of them and empty shopping bags on the floor where they had clearly unpacked all the shopping for (Y/n). And when he sped past the lounge, he briefly caught sight of Lilah sat watching tv.

He watched Liv move to stand in the living room doorway, her eyes flitting between both parents, not wanting to be in the way if an argument was going to happen. But she wanted to stay close just in case Eddie decided to head out in his boxers and start a fight with the neighbour. It wouldn't be the first time Liv had seen Eddie start a fight, and he always won.

(Y/n) peeked through the net curtain beside the front door, watching Adam drift back to his own home next door. When she turned around, her breath caught in her throat and she reached her hands out for Eddie.

He had his brows arched, his hands curled into fists and every muscle on show was tense and riled up. Not to mention he was stood there in nothing but his boxers with his hair askew, giving away the fact that he had just been asleep a minute ago.

"Where is he and what's he done?" His voice came out low and brittal and it sent a shiver rolling down (Y/n)'s spine.

Her hands found his arms and she tried to nudge him backwards and aim for the living room, but Eddie planted his feet down on the hardwood floor and wouldn't budge.

He uncurled his hands and clamped them down on her hips, his fingers squeezing tight into her skin as he leaned around her as if he could see through the net and out onto the front lawn. He knew Liv had been talking about Adam from next door. Liv often said he seemed creepy and was always hovering around and now (Y/n) had mentioned he was always a bit too close or eager. But Eddie had yet to catch him doing anything and it was infuriating.

He hated the thought of the neighbour doing something specifically when he knew or thought Eddie was out and couldn't reprimand him for it.

"He's gone, the threat of you frightened him off. Baby go back to bed," She dragged her fingertips up to his shoulders until she was cupping the back of his neck. Feeling the way he shivered beneath her nails that scratched into his skin.

She tried again to nudge Eddie backwards, he hadn't been asleep for that long and he needed rest. But he wasn't budging. His lips curled down and he huffed, looking past her again before their eyes locked and his head ticked to one side.

"What did he do?" She had answered one of his questions, but not the other. Liv hadn't said exactly what the neighbour did and Eddie needed to find out so he knew whether he had to go and make some threats.

"Baby, he's gone, it's fine-"

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine and sent the baby doing summersaults when Eddie reached up to grab her wrists. He pulled her hands away from his neck and held her wrists against his chest before his head snapped to the left to look at Liv. The fourteen year old was skulking in the doorway, unsure whether to go watch tv or hang around and see what was going to happen.

"Liv, what'd he do?" The grumble in Eddie's voice won over Liv rather than the stern look (Y/n) shot her way.

Liv was always a daddy's girl, she was more inclined to agree or listen to Eddie than she was to (Y/n) and if he asked her something, she always answered him. Since the moment she was born, Liv had been Eddie's little shadow, much like Lilah was turning out to be. Whereas Chris, seemingly because he was the only boy, always clung and stuck to (Y/n) a little more.

"Grabbed mum's arse." Liv looked down at her shoes when Eddie's cheeks sucked in and his jaw started to click from side to side. She saw the rage building up in his eyes that darted back down to (Y/n) while his brows rose and he suddenly let go of her, aiming for the door. Despite the fact that he wasn't even dressed.

"Liv why- Eddie don't!" (Y/n) waved her hand out towards the living room as a sign for Liv to go and sit down. Why did she have to tell him? Why couldn't she keep it to herself so (Y/n) could handle the situation?

Once Liv scuttled towards the sofa, (Y/n) spun on her heels and deadlocked her arms around Eddie's chest. She glued herself to his back, shutting the door just as Eddie tried to open it.

"Eddie, please. Please, don't start a fight, I told him you'd go after him and it frightened him off. He won't do it again."

They had only just moved to this area. (Y/n) wanted to give a good impression and be friendly with the rest of the neighbourhood. The last thing they wanted was Eddie roaming round in his boxers, trying to beat up the guy next door. And some of the people in the street were already friendly now they knew Eddie was a firefighter. It wouldn't do him any good to get a reputation or if the news got back to the station.

She could feel his resolve slowly ebbing away, but his hand stayed deadlocked around the door, internally debating what to do.

He didn't want to stand here, he wanted to go round and argue and throw a punch. He didn't stand for anyone disrespecting any of his family, but knowing the guy next door had tried to cop a feel sent Eddie's blood on fire. But he also didn't want to start a fight if the whole neighbourhood was going to find out and he didn't want to scare the kids.

"He can't just touch you up and get away with it. And he won't fucking do it again cos I'll deck him." His head twisted to the right and he looked down at (Y/n) when she gingerly pressed her forehead into his arm and pushed up into his back.

He could feel her shallow breaths against his flushed skin and the way her chest shuddered with each breath.

"Baby…" She feathered her lips up Eddie's arm and across his shoulder until she was leaning up on her tiptoes, pressing a few wet, tender kisses against his neck. She could feel his resolve starting to ebb away as he twisted to the left so he was facing her.

He let her move his left arm and guide his hand to her stomach where the baby was kicking up a storm, making (Y/n) feel queasy again. And he reached his free hand around to cup the back of her neck, sighing as he kissed her temple.

"No stress, remember?" She murmured softly into his neck, letting herself push into his chest as he took her weight for her.

"Then promise me if he does or says anything, you'll tell me straight away."

"I promise."

"Alright, mi amor. Come on, let's sit with the kids, I'm shattered." He muttered against her temple while his hand snaked around from her neck to cup her chin and tilt her head up in his direction. He attached his lips to hers, stealing the air from her lungs and delving his tongue past her lips while his other hand ran along her stomach.

He could feel the kicks against his palm and the way it had (Y/n) arching her back out and shifting from foot to foot. They had another ten weeks until their due date and Eddie doubted if they would reach it at this rate with all the stress surrounding them lately.

He wormed his hand around to cradle her lower back when they parted and the pair of them slowly padded into the living room where all the kids had suddenly accumilated.

Liv was curled up in the armchair, knees to her chest, arms folded and her head switching from the tv to check on her parents. Chris and Trixie were knelt in front of the coffee table colouring in, and Lilah was laid on the sofa with a teddy curled to her chest and her broken arm cradled to the teddy.

When they reached the sofa, Eddie gently leaned over and lifted Lilah up so he could sit down in her place.

He slouched into the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table while he cradled Lilah on his lap. The four year old instantly snuggled into Eddie's chest with her head tucked beneath his chin and both arms still curled around her teddy. She felt Eddie's hand gliding up and down her side and he peppered sloppy kisses against her temple while his free hand reached out for (Y/n).

He held her lower back, helping her ease down next to him before his arm curved over her shoulders, tugging his wife under his arm to keep her snuggled close.

His eyes drifted from (Y/n) back down to Lilah when she shifted round on his lap. She wriggled as if trying to get comfy before she leaned back into his shoulder, lifting her head so she could look up at him. When she gingerly held her bad arm out towards him, Eddie's expression softened. Eddie knew what she was after.

Since she had broken her arm, she was forever holding it out to Eddie so he would kiss it better.

His touch was careful when he cradled the black foam cast on her arm and leaned over to kiss her cast and then the tips of her fingers. "All better," He spoke softly as Lilah cuddled down into his bare chest, seemingly satisfied, and cradled her teddy closer to her chest.

Eddie closed his eyes, pressing his lips to (Y/n)'s forehead while both girls leaned into him. And he slouched down a little more, keeping them both tucked up against him with the rest of their family close by.

"No stress." Eddie muttered under his breath. Somehow he didn't believe that was going to be possible.

***

"Girls don't mess around-" (Y/n) cut herself off, a shiver tearing down her spine when she leaned into the bathroom and looked at the pair of them.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line and her hand fell on her hip while Chris tugged on her other hand.

Lilah's sharp cry pierced through the air, causing (Y/n) to cringe and Chris to frown. He let go of (Y/n)'s hand and turned away from the bathroom, trudging down the hall towards the living room. He wasn't going to hang around if his youngest sister was going to have a tantrum, he would rather start watching a movie in the living room with Liv.

He was always sensitive when the girls were crying or having a meltdown. Chris hated the sound of their screams and when they cried it made him uncomfortable, he never knew what to do so he found it best to leave the room.

"Mummy!" Lilah sniffed but she couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her face.

The four year old splashed her left hand in the bath while her right arm, her broken one, meshed up against her chest. She shimmied back in the water as much as she could to distance herself from Trixie who now had tears in her own eyes in fear of getting told off.

She didn't mean to. They were only playing, she didn't mean to catch Lilah's bad arm or hurt her.

Running a hand through her hair, (Y/n) tried to find some strength from somewhere and padded across the bathroom towards the girls. She used the side of the bath as leverage to kneel down beside them and she reached down to pull the plug.

"Both of you out now, please." All the kids loved bath time, but if the girls were going to mess around then they weren't staying in here any longer. (Y/n) didn't have the energy to stop a fight when she was home alone with all the kids and she didn't feel at her best.

A bubbling cry left Lilah's lips and she lashed her legs out to try and kick Trixie who squealed and sent a tidal wave across at her in retaliation.

"Stop it. Trixie out, and you stop kicking that's naughty." (Y/n) leaned over and helped Lilah stand up, keeping hold of her waist as the youngest clambered out with one arm, the other still pinned to her chest. "You're alright, sweetheart," Her tone softened when Lilah continued to whimper, clearly in some discomfort.

This was why they had asked for a foam cast rather than a pot when they took her to the hospital and found out she'd broken her arm. A pot and a four year old didn't mix well and Lilah would end up hurting herself even more or getting it wet and mucky. At least with a black cast they could take it off for a little while to let her arm rest and take it off when she needed a bath, like tonight.

(Y/n) handed Trixie a towel while her focus shifted back to Lilah who was stomping her feet, taking bubbling breaths as she howled.

"Hurts! Mummy, it hurts," Big sobs tumbled past Lilah's lips as her eyes turned red and she rubbed her good hand along her eyes until they were puffy and aching.

She held her right arm out to the side so (Y/n) wouldn't touch it while she got her dried off. When it came to drying her arm, (Y/n) carefully dabbed the towel at her arm like she was blotting a painting, wincing when Lilah sniffed and whimpered.

"I know sweetheart, you're alright, come on." She pecked Lilah's temple and helped her into her pyjamas before she picked up the small foam cast.

She eased it around Lilah's arm and did up the velcro straps before Lilah pushed forward and burrowed into her chest with a huff. Lilah was the youngest, at least until the new baby arrived, and she wasn't keen on (Y/n)'s tummy being in the way whenever she wanted a hug. She also didn't like Eddie giving any attention to the bump either.

When he tried to kiss or talk to (Y/n)'s stomach, Lilah would nuzzle in and whine until Eddie paid her some attention too. He had started doing it more often when Lilah was around because he found it rather sweet how desperate and jealous she would get.

(Y/n) dreaded to think what Lilah would be like when Eddie tended to the new baby. She was used to being the littlest, the one that was carried around and cuddled and needed a bit more attention. A baby was going to change all of that.

"How about some hot chocolate?"

Trixie was already out the bathroom, hazardly dressed and ready to go and get herself a drink.

Lilah nodded and looped her good arm around (Y/n)'s neck, gluing herself to her mum's chest and she curved around her stomach. But she started to whine when (Y/n) shook her head.

"Sweetie I can't carry you, daddy will tell me off." When Lilah let out a piercing cry, (Y/n) sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come here." Defeat flooded her voice and she tangled her arms around Lilah, cuddling her youngest as she used the bath to push back up to her feet.

She could feel the snagging pain in her lower back and she had to double forward to ease the tension in her abdomen, but it stopped Lilah crying. She could feel her snuffling into her neck and cuddling close, wanting as much love and affection as she could possibly get. Especially since Eddie was at work tonight.

"Livy's making hot chocolate."

(Y/n) nodded at Trixie and slowly eased down on the sofa, settling Lilah under her right arm as Trixie sat on her other side with Chris wedged on the end of the sofa. She wasn't so sure Liv would stay and watch a movie with them tonight, the eldest usually went to her room to read or watch a movie by herself, but on the odd occasion she would join them for a movie night.

The eldest trotted through a minute later just as Chris selected a movie. She placed a tray down on the coffee table, a cup of hot chocolate for each of them.

Liv knew that Chris always had to have a hot drink in his 'space mug' which was a deep navy blue colour with depictions of the solar system on. She also knew Trixie and Lilah would use the small plastic Disney cups from the bottom drawer in the kitchen. (Y/n) was the only one who wouldn't mind what cup she had. When Eddie was home, he always used his 'World's Best Dad' mug which had a picture of him and all the kids on.

At the station, Eddie had a mug that said 'Dad and Me' from three years ago, it was one Liv made at school and everyone at the station knew not to use or break it, lest they wanted Eddie's wrath.

"Are you joining us?"

"I suppose." A small smile fluttered across Liv's lips as she plonked herself down in the armchair and propped her feet up on the coffee table, cradling her cup between her hands.

She quite liked the movie Chris had picked and she didn't mind joining them for a movie tonight.

"Mum asleep?" Chris muttered quietly, tilting his head away from the tv for a quick second to glance up at his mum.

She had her eyes closed and her head tilted to one side as she slouched on the sofa. She had Trixie tucked under one arm who was barely awake, and Lilah laid over her lap who was just about to fall asleep. She peeked one eye open and looked across at Chris, nudging his shoulder to show him she was awake.

"Not yet." (Y/n) responded, smiling when Chris shuffled closer so he could lean his head on her arm. He snuggled up, coiling his knees to his chest to try and get comfy, wedging himself as close to his mum as possible.

A bright smile lit up Chris's tired face and he flashed his teeth, giggling quietly when he felt the baby start to kick. He leaned his cheek against the top of (Y/n)'s stomach and moved both hands to her abdomen, waiting for another kick like he always watched his dad do.

(Y/n) started to card her fingers through his curls, unknotting them and brushing them from his eyes while he continued to wait for another kick to show that the baby was awake.

They didn't know the gender of the baby yet, it was going to be a surprise. Eddie had his bets on another girl, he quite liked the thought of having four girls and one boy. He and Chris were surrounded by girls, and that was the way they liked it. Liv agreed, she thought her parents were likely to have an army of girls and one boy. But Lilah and Trixie were betting on a boy, mainly because Lilah wanted to be Eddie's littlest girl and have his attention all to herself.

When Trixie snuggled into her side and started to brush her hand across (Y/n)'s stomach, it made her smile. (Y/n) felt surrounded, she had four out of five of her kids with her, all clinging and lying on her and the baby was wriggling as if to show off that they too were awake. And Liv was just beside them, curled up in the armchair, looking tired for once.

(Y/n) could feel all the kids lulling her to sleep and she had a feeling Liv would have to wake them all up when the movie was over. And she knew that when Eddie was on a night shift like this, at least two of the kids would come scurrying into the bed in Eddie's place.

She began to feather her hand up and down Trixie's arm and she let her eyes fall closed again while Lilah became unusually still. Something (Y/n) took as a sign that the youngest had fallen asleep.

Liv seemed to be the only one paying any interest in the movie anymore, but at least the rest of the kids were settled. There was nothing worse than when they were trying to pay attention to a movie and Chris or the girls were wriggling about or chattering and not paying attention.

The movie drowned into background static when an earth-shattering bang coursed through the living room and felt like an earthquake had taken place in the centre of their home.

(Y/n) jolted forward so far she almost knocked Lilah down to the floor and her scream matched in tangent with each of her kids.

Her arms deadlocked around Trixie and Chris while Lilah screamed and clutched at her stomach so tightly (Y/n) couldn't help but gasp. She could feel herself shaking and her chest shuddered when Trixie screamed into her chest while Chris's nails scratched into her back and chest to try and keep hold of her.

"Fuck- w-what was that?!" Terror ransacked Liv's voice as she began to shake.

Her knees jerked up into her stomach and her arms pinned to the sides of her head as if she expected the house to start crumbling apart like a cake. She shuddered, pushing herself back in the armchair while her rabid eyes locked on her mum.

She watched (Y/n) try and sit up, trying to move the kids so she could get up but all three of them were still whimpering and clinging to her, each about to go into fits of tears.

Liv's knees stayed bound to her chest but her arms moved to grip the armrests and she slowly sat up and glanced behind her where the sound came from. Her jaw dropped and terror flooded her eyes when she looked towards the window. They had thick grey nets covering the windows so no one could peer inside from the street and the curtains hadn't been fully closed tonight. Through the gap in the curtains, Liv could see the window was broken.

"Mum…" She shakily pointed to the window while (Y/n) used the sofa as leverage to push herself up.

(Y/n) tried to level out her breathing and control her heart that was thumping away in her chest as she shuffled away from the sofa and moved near the window. But her heart dropped down to her stomach and the baby did an awful twist when she looked behind the sofa.

A brick.

Someone had thrown a brick through the window.

That could have hit them. A few inches to the left and that could have landed on any of them on the sofa. It could have clocked Liv in the back of the head if aimed at a slanted angle. Any one of (Y/n)'s kids could have been seriously hurt by that.

She didn't want to, but she advanced closer to the window. Her frame stuck to the curtain, hiding behind the dark grey cloth just in case someone was still stood outside and could manage to see through the nets.

The middle window pane was shattered. Glass decorated the floor in a large pattern and sprinkled down on the windowsil.

She could see a figure moving outside, but it was too far away for her to discern who it was, how tall they were, what they were wearing. All (Y/n) could fathom was it was a figure around her height, maybe, walking in the direction towards the house at such a slow pace it couldn't be considered normal.

"Mum?" Liv's voice was unusually meek and worried as she tremored, curling into the armchair like she wanted to make herself as small as possible to stay safe.

"Call nana." Her stern voice took Liv by surprise and she looked between her mum and the tv as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.

"Wh-what was it?"

"A brick."

Panic dwelled in Liv's stomach and she jolted back in the chair when Lilah whined. The youngest scrambled off the sofa and without a moment's hesitation, she climbed up onto the armchair with Liv. For once, Liv didn't groan or huff or tell Lilah she was too heavy to be held or too annoying to be cuddling her.

She wrapped her arm around her little sister and let her snuggle into her chest, binding her good arm around Liv's waist while she cradled her cast to her chest and began to cry.

Liv kissed the top of her head and leaned forward to grab her phone from the table before she sank back into the chair, trying not to shake. Her eyes followed her mum as she kissed Chris and Trixie to try and keep them calm, holding Chris's shoulder with one hand while her other hand clenched down on the back of the sofa to steady herself.

(Y/n) did her best to ignore the shaking setting into her system and the dull throbbing pain in her abdomen that she knew was from the abruption she had last month. Stress wasn't good for her condition but right now it was all-consuming.

When she saw Liv was shakily scrolling through her contacts for Athena's number, (Y/n) felt a bit better. She needed her mum over here, now.

Who would throw a brick through the window? They were new to this area, they didn't know all the neighbours or the people nearby but the ones they did know, they got along really well with. Except for Adam.

"Nana?" Liv did her best to control her voice and she swiped her hand against her face, brushing away the stray tear. She was the eldest, she had to remain calm along with her mum and calm down the younger ones.

"Hey sweetie… everything okay? I've just got to work." Athena's voice was as calming and soothing as ever and it made Liv relax.

Just as Liv was going to respond, she froze and locked eyes with her mum when the doorbell rang.

(Y/n) held her hand out and pressed her finger to her lips, begging them all to be quiet. She didn't know who was at the door and there was no way she was going to answer that without Eddie or Athena here. The smashed window had been loud, but surely it couldn't have been loud enough to alert anyone. The house was detached with the garden surrounding and separating it from the neighbours. They couldn't have heard that.

Maybe whoever it was had seen something and wanted to check they were okay, but (Y/n) wasn't taking the risk to answer. For all she knew it could be whoever threw the brick waiting at the door to pounce.

"(Y/n)? Hey, are you okay, I uh, I heard a noise. Just wanted to check on you and the little ones."

Dread crawled up the back of (Y/n)'s throat, threatening to spill her hot chocolate when that voice drifted through the hallway.

Adam.

He was at the door. He couldn't have heard something so faint and thought it best to come over and check on them. He couldn't have heard that and come round here so quickly. Either he was the cause of this or he was being too nosey for his own good and had seen something. Either way (Y/n) was not letting him inside, he wasn't coming anywhere near her or her kids.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" Athena's voice brought Liv crashing back to reality and made her realise she hadn't answered.

"Everyone up and in mine and your dads room please. Come on." (Y/n) leaned over the back of the sofa and moved her hands to Chris and Trixie's backs, giving them a nudge until they started to move.

Her bedroom was at the back of the house facing the garden. No one could throw a brick through the window or get into the back garden if the back gate was closed. And the front and back door were locked, (Y/n) always locked them in the evening, especially when she was home and Eddie was out at work.

Being at the back of the house would be safer and they wouldn't have to hear Adam if he decided to stay and pester them at the door.

When Chris and Trixie got up, (Y/n) let them clutch one of her hands each and burrow up against her legs. She made sure to swipe her phone from the sofa before she guided them down the hall, checking over her shoulder that Liv was following her.

Liv juggled Lilah in her left arm, sitting her sister on her hip while she clutched her phone to her ear and jogged down the hall, barely breathing at all.

"Nana, we need you to come over. Someone put a brick through the front window." Tears finally began to fall down Liv's face and when she got into her parents room, she shut the door closed behind her.

"A brick? Is everyone okay?!"

"Yeah… nana please-"

"Sweetie, don't you worry, I'm on my way down right now okay? And I'll call grandad because he's not at work tonight. Keep the doors locked and don't let anyone in, no one leave the house until I get there, okay?"

"Okay."

"Nanny," Lilah sniffled, reaching out for the phone but Liv shook her head and advanced over to the bed. She eased Lilah down and watched her scuttle to sit with Chris and Trixie in the middle of the bed while (Y/n) shut the curtains.

Moving her hand to her stomach, (Y/n) swallowed down a groan and walked over towards the door. She peered down the hall and shivered when she could faintly see a dark outline at the front door. Adam was still there. Hopefully when he heard Athena's sirens he would scarper and realise they had called the police.

She heard Liv hang up and tell Chris to put the tv on so they could all calm down and watch a movie.

Getting her phone out, (Y/n) scrolled to Eddie's contact and dialled. He needed to pick up. (Y/n) knew her dad wasn't at work tonight so she couldn't call him to get hold of Eddie. She would have to try Buck and if not, try to find the emergency number for the office who could then get through to Eddie.

She wasn't waiting until the morning for Eddie to come off shift and find out what had happened. And (Y/n) had a gut feeling that this was down to their new neighbour. Eddie's truck wasn't in the drive, that was a damn sure sign that he wasn't home and Adam always tried to talk to (Y/n) or hang around when he knew Eddie wasn't home. This couldn't be a coincidence.

"Mummy no!" Trixie held her hands out when (Y/n) stepped into the hall. She didn't want her to leave them in here, not when something bad was happening and they didn't know what to do.

"Sweetie I'm just here, okay? I- I need to call daddy."

She stayed in the doorway, teethering on the threshold. She didn't want to talk so close where the kids could hear her in case she frightened them. (Y/n) wanted to speak to Eddie alone, but she was going to have to stay within sight so the kids didn't panic or get more frightened than they already were.

"Ola mi amor. Who's not going to bed then?" The lighthearted tone in Eddie's voice almost made (Y/n) smile, if it weren't for the tears threatening to cascade from her eyes.

He was used to phone calls when he was on night shifts, the kids always wanted to say goodnight if they could and if one of them couldn't settle, they usually spoke to Eddie on the phone.

"Baby you- you need to come home."

"What? Mi amor what's wrong, are you okay? Is it the baby?" Panic and confusion tore through Eddie's voice and (Y/n) could hear muffled sounds in the background like he was moving to somewhere quieter to talk.

After the abruption Eddie had been on edge about going back to work because he didn't want (Y/n) home alone with the kids if something happened and she felt worse or another complication happened with the baby. And he knew they weren't likely to reach full term now, (Y/n) was likely to have the baby within the next few weeks.

They had gone through enough of a struggle with Trixie and Lilah, both of them had been early births and Lilah had been a very early, preemie baby. Eddie didn't want to go through that again.

"No, oh God, baby someone-" (Y/n) looked back towards the kids when the tv flared to life and Chris put on a Disney movie. All their attention was on the tv, except for Liv who kept looking across at her. "Eddie someone's thrown a brick through the window."

"What?!" His voice dropped two octaves and was so deep (Y/n) barely recognised him.

"We've called mum, she's on her way over… Eddie I don't know what to do-"

"Okay, okay calm down. Oh Dios, you can't be stressing, just breathe for a minute." Eddie tried to steady his own breathing as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He had to tell Hen he was leaving, she was in charge for this shift while Bobby was off rota tonight. "Jesus, a brick? Are you all okay, did anyone get hurt?"

"We're okay."

"Thank fuck for that. I'm leaving, I'm coming home. Did you see anything, when it happened?" At least for now Eddie didn't have to panic about taking any of the kids to hospital, but he wasn't so sure about (Y/n). If she was stressing it wasn't going to help the baby.

"I didn't… I didn't see anything, but- but Adam's at the door."

"That little fucker from next door? What's he want?"

"He said he heard something, that he w-wants to check on us, I didn't let him in but he's still waiting at the door. Eddie I don't like this-"

"Don't go near the door. Mi amor stay with the kids, if he's still there by the time I come home I'll put his fucking head through the window."

His breaths sounded ragged and laboured and (Y/n) shuddered. She hoped- she prayed, Athena was going to arrive before Eddie. If she didn't she might have to arrest her son in law because Eddie wasn't going to accept this. He wasn't going to let Adam touch (Y/n) up and then pester them at the door like this. And if he had been the one to put the brick through the window, God only knows what Eddie would do to him for that.

(Y/n) didn't doubt her husbands words and she had a feeling he would follow through and put Adam through the nearest window he could find for this. It would be a sight, but (Y/n) couldn't have Eddie getting himself arrested. Not when she needed him home and the kids needed him.

She tilted her head back, feeling a sob burn at the back of her throat as her free hand moved to run across her face.

"Do you want me to go into labour?" She hissed through the phone, clicking her jaw into place as a quiet mewl left her lips and her hand moved to cradle her abdomen where the baby was kicking up a storm.

"I want you to be safe! I leave the damn house for a few hours and someone's smashing it up and if it's him I'll kill him. He could of hurt you and the kids-"

"So come home and help me, Eddie. God, I feel sick." She took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down but it wasn't working. She wouldn't be calm until her mum walked through the door and she had Eddie's arms around her.

"I'm getting in the jeep now, mi amor I swear I won't be long. Put the kids on the phone, please, let me check they're okay."

Eddie already had his bag on his shoulder and his boots were storming across the polished floor, announcing his departure to the rest of his team. He had whispered a few words to Hen already and she ushered him out with well wishes and worried looks. He would be home soon.

"Talk to daddy, he's on his way home."

Relief plastered across all the kid's faces and they visibly relaxed, sinking back into the pillows and huddling together when Liv held the phone out between them, putting it on speaker.

"Daddy! You coming home?"

"I am baby, I'll be there soon to look after you all. Are you all alright?"

A chorus of muttered agreements and mewls were like music to Eddie's ears as he slammed the jeep door shut and turned the key in the ignition. He was on his way home and when he got there, heads were going to roll.

[fauvester]

ok NOW im done

Tortured ghost senator department

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time. 

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!” 

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you. 

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too. 

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile. 

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness. 

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname. 

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance. 

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’. 

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise. 

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly. 

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin. 

“Do you want us to call you that now?” 

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that? 

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.  

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him. 

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again. 

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing. 

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively. 

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be. 

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently. 

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions. 

How could you willingly let go of that? 

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment. 

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them. 

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within. 

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty? 

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s. 

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air. 

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head. 

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea. 

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered. 

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to. 

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you. 

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago. 

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could. 

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down. 

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong. 

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon. 

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn. 

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems. 

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage. 

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses. 

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons. 

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes. 

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him. 

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle. 

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight. 

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it. 

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically. 

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting. 

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights. 

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt. 

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments. 

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him. 

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were  listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.  

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go. 

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.” 

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.  

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce. 

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise. 

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor. 

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out. 

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street. 

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead. 

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot. 

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear. 

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders 

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field. 

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill. 

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face. 

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee. 

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else. 

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves. 

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!”  he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats. 

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.” 

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes. 

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?” 

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front. 

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed. 

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.” 

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching. 

Speaking of- 

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms. 

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat. 

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind. 

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets. 

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead. 

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements. 

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough. 

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could. 

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you. 

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes. 

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost. 

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?” 

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives. 

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.” 

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes. 

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times. 

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance. 

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths. 

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building. 

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe. 

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before. 

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it. 

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown. 

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered. 

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you. 

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now… 

[soapisahimbo]

Jealousy - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head canons? NSFW PREFERABLY. Where he gets jealous and tries to distance the team from being too touchy with you or even to joke around with you. But they don’t know y’all are dating of course. So he has to fight his feelings and eventually taking it out on you if you know what I mean wink*wink*. Or the things he’ll do to show the others that you are his only and that’s when they got the clue. Please?

Wow, I'll admit, this was a bit of a challenge. Also I wrote it as a headcanon list, I hope that's what you were aiming for! I was honestly a bit unsure on how to approach this, and I'm a little unsure about how it turned out, but I genuinely hope that you enjoy it!

Containts heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: simon is a jealous bitch, it gets rough, borderline dubcon, genderneutral reader/genderneutral anatomy

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in you. He has a number of peculiarities for sure, but he knows you'd never betray him or go behind his back. It's a trust you worked hard to gain, and it was hard work that he recognizes and appreciates. You've proven time and time again that you're safe in many ways and while he's always prepared for the worst, he's also an excellent judge of character. He can read you like an open book.

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in his team either. He'd never say it out loud, but they are his brothers in arms and he is ready and willing to kill and to die for them, just as they are for him. He's not exactly eager to show his appreciation for them, but they take what they can get, even if it sometimes is just a mere glance. Now, don't misunderstand - he appreciates that you and his teammates get along, and he knows that if something were to happen to him, they'd keep you safe. But he is a man of instinct, and he has a tendency to get a bit territorial, for lack of a better word.

You know he has a bit of a... jealous streak, to say the least. He doesn't try to control you, because his gripes are not with you. He might loom and he might grumble, but he likes seeing you getting dressed up, he likes seeing you having a good time, he enjoys seeing you laugh and joke around. As far as he's concerned, you can do no wrong. No, his gripes are not with you - never with you. They are, however, with everybody else that even glances your way.

Kyle and Johnny are both very friendly by nature - they're probably the most easygoing members both in and outside the task-force. They're the type of people that others trust and want to hang out with, and they also consider you a good friend, whom they like to hang out and banter with. They do seem to have a habit of hogging you though, much to Simon's chagrin, and while you can make it up to him most of the time, he doesn't find it any less infuriating when they whisk you away for you to witness their latest ideas and trinkets.

They are also flirts by nature. Simon knows this because they inadvertently flirt with each other, as well as himself, any other teammates outside the task force and even Price at some points, mostly through jokes. They could probably flirt with a brick wall as far as he's concerned. Which is why he can almost overlook it when they turn their cunning charms onto you. Almost.

No one knows about Simon and yours relationship, not even Price. He's made it a point to keep it on the low for the safety of both of you, and you couldn't exactly argue - it made sense considering the line of work. It seemed as if though you had to remind him of this several times whenever hands and eyes that weren't his own seemed to wander a bit too much for his liking - "you can't hold it against them," you'd say, "they don't even know." And he knows you're right, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hold it against them.

Despite all this, he keeps himself in check fairly well. No one can tell if he's just staring normally or glaring daggers at others anyways, so he gets away with dreaming about stringing them up by their balls at any time. Or rather, he keeps himself in check fairly well - until he has you for himself.

You'd tease him about it, but it's kind of difficult to even form coherent thoughts once he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The second you're alone with him, you best believe he's making the most of it. He'll cover your mouth to keep you from making too much noise (although you're not sure that ever helps because just the sound of him fucking you is loud enough anyways) and he growls into your ear things like "you're mine and mine alone," "one day I'll fucking bend you over right in front of those fucking idiots and show them who you belong to," "they think they can fuck you as good as I do," "I bet those fuckheads would kill to get a chance to make you cum this fucking hard."

He tries to keep them away from you, subtly in order to not draw attention to it, even though it doesn't always work, and he'd rather just kick them in the head. Places himself between them and you, keeps you close to him, gives excuses as to why you should be stationed with him, why you should be assigned to him and his missions - anything he can think of. He also has a penchant for interrupting others when they're trying to talk to you, coming up with something to send them away. You yourself are honestly surprised no one's caught on at this point, but that might because no one knows him quite as intimately as you do.

Every day that anyone has managed to get in the way for him always ends the same. If you could keep track of the time he spends fucking your brains out, you'd probably be concerned, but he doesn't give you any chance to gather your thoughts once he has you. If he's really pissed, he might start taking risks - dumb risks, if you had anything to say about it, but he rarely listens, and he knows exactly what weak spots to touch on to get you to give in.

He's pinned you against a door a number of times, somehow managing to stay deathly quiet while fucking you thoroughly with practically all of his teammates standing on the other side, completely oblivious to what's going on behind just a couple of inches of wood. He once fucked you just around the corner from an open hangar door, and if any of the people walking by had thrown a look in your direction, they would've seen you bent over, pants pulled down to your knees and with Simon's iron grip on your hips.

So far though, he's managed to keep it discreet, despite his hotheadedness. Never leaves any marks where anyone can see them, helps you stay on your feet if you're in a place where you have to be, makes excuses to do things for you so that you don't have to get up out of your seat - although he can't deny that a part of him wants everyone else to see what he's done with you. He wants to mark your neck and chest all over for everyone to see, he wants everyone to see you stumble when you walk on shaky legs after he's done with you. He's had to fight the urge to just throw you onto the table whenever the force invites you in for a poker night and fuck you in front of them, just so that they can see that only he can have you.

But he mainly keeps it to himself. You'd be far too pissed at him if he pulled a stunt like that for it to be worth it. In fact, he reached a point where he was almost fine with at least Johnny and Kyle being their usual selves with you (to a point, of course). He almost got over it. Until, of course, the idiot with the mohawk decided to push it a bit further than he usually did.

The outcome can be blamed on a number of things, really. 141 had been away for an extended period of time, long enough for Simon to reach for his phone and send you some heated messages nearly every day for the last week, which was rare. So when he was finally coming back to you, finally able to spend as much time as he wanted in bed with you, when he steps off of that goddamn fucking helicopter to finally be greeted by you, what happens? John 'Soap' FuckTavish runs full speed ahead to you, wraps his dumb fucking arms around your waist, hoists you up in a fucking hug and plants a big fucking kiss on your cheek. Numerous times, mind you!

While you were indeed happy to see him and the rest of the team, you could tell that Simon had reached an instant boiling point. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that he was about to blow Johnny's brains out then and there, but instead he simply walked up to you, grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and just about yanked him away from you.

"Maybe take a shower before you start rubbin' your stink all over everyone else, Sergeant," he said, pushing Johnny away. Wow, smooth, you thought to yourself, but Johnny seemed to take it in stride and laughed. "Gee, sorry, LT. Just happy to be back with a good friend is all." And as a final nail in the coffin, he winked at you before strutting away.

Kyle and Price greeted you as well as they passed by, Kyle also giving you a warm and tight hug, rocking you back and forth, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Simon where he stood. Once they'd moved on, you turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Hi, baby," you said as sweetly as you could.

He grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips puckered; firm, but not rough. He leaned in close, his eyes fixated on you. "I've had it," he said and while you weren't exactly sure what he meant, you knew that there was something in store.

He picked you up and threw you over your shoulder and you were suddenly aware of the fact that there were still people around to witness this very unusual display from Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He carried you through the hallway that lead to his room and people were gawking at you as you tried to protest, tried to remind him that no one's supposed to know, that you need to be discreet about this, but how could you say all that without giving everything away when everyone could hear you? So you tried to just act like you didn't know what was going on, asking him what he was doing, where he was taking you, why he was doing this, but he didn't say a word. You're pretty sure that far more than you were comfortable with watched as he carried you into his room and locked the door.

He threw you onto his bed and tore his mask off, throwing it onto the floor with such force that you thought he broke it. "Simon, what the hell?!" you said, watching him take his gear off and haphazardly toss it to the side. "I thought we were keeping this shit secret!" But he didn't seem to listen. He simply stared at you with some combination of lust and anger as he stripped himself naked in front of you.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, wrapped your legs around his hips and leaned over you, pinning your hands in one of his above your head. "I've. Had. It." he said again. His other hand moved down to your crotch and pressed, rubbing at you. "I should've fucked you the second I touched ground - maybe then they'd get the fuckin' point."

Everything happened so fast after that - he ripped your shirt off, from the collar and all the way down, and you're pretty sure he broke your belt before he practically ripped your pants off as well. He kept you pinned against the mattress as he relentlessly fingered you, and when you tried to keep quiet he'd only up the intensity, focusing on that exact spot to break you apart. "I'll make them get the point, how's that?" he grumbled and spat at your hole, staring as if hypnotized.

You had no idea how long he'd had you just like this, eventually with both hands working you past the edge over and over again, but you were pretty sure that if you came just one more time you'd pass out, and he hadn't even fucked you properly yet.

At some point, you were vaguely aware of him lifting your hips up, placing your ankles on his shoulders before you felt him push into you and you thought you felt a part of your mind break. You didn't have any energy left to try and keep quiet anymore, so any moans and cries that worked their way up from your chest were let out freely and loudly as he pounded into you. Between the biting and the sucking all over your neck and chest and whatever other parts his mouth could reach, you thought you heard Simon praise you for every sound you let out.

His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

He gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and pushed himself deeper into you. He growled all sorts of dirty exclamations about how you looked, how you sounded, how you felt and how now no one would dare to lay a finger on you again. He fucked into you with reckless abandon, eventually pushing all the way into you to cum as deep into you as he could before pulling out and using his hands once more, fingering his cum back into as it leaked out.

You came one last time with a loud and near pornographic cry, the world flashed white, and before you knew it, you were held up in a warm stream of water in the shower, Simon's calloused hands stroking you gently to wash all the fluids off of you. "Aren't you such a good doll for me, baby?" he mumbled. "So good..."

You were littered with hickeys and bite-marks, painfully sore all over in the best sort of way, so weak in the legs that your knees were still shaking and you could barely stand. "The fuck got into you?" you managed to breathe out. "I'd be surprised if the entire fucking complex didn't hear us." Simon simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

You were incredibly pissed at him once you saw yourself in the mirror, yelling at him and telling him that there is no way you can go out there looking like this. You scolded him, unsure if he even cared, but he dutifully went out to grab you some new clothes to replace the ones he ripped apart when you demanded him to.

The following week or so was incredibly stiff, both literally and figuratively. People would nearly sprint out of the room if you entered, trying not to pay any attention to your awkward walk, and you practically banned Simon from sex until you could sit down properly ("Plus an extra week!" you had added, just to get your point across) and all the marks had faded from your skin. Simon did make it up to you, being extra sweet on you, massaging any and every sore spot you had regardless of if he had caused them or not, running errands to make sure you didn't have to leave your spot.

As for the task force... for as long as they could see the hickeys on your neck, Kyle and Johnny tried every excuse they could think of to not look too much at you, or they told you that they had somewhere to be before awkwardly stumbling off under the glare of your boyfriend. Price himself was also a bit awkward, but for the most part, his reaction consisted of calling Simon into his office and scolding him for "causing a ruckus". He also threw in a "and for fuck's sake, don't break them - I'd rather not have to write that report!"

Simon did appear to be pleased with the results, however. Everyone steered clear of you, with the slight exception of his teammates, but even they were treading carefully. He barely even had to do anything. A bonus was that anyone that tried to be an asshole to you also kept their distance, which even you could agree was at least one positive thing to come out of the whole ordeal. At least he'd gotten it out of his system. For now.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

Word Count: 9.8 k

Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision

Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 

“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”

Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 

“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 

“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.

Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.

Fuck, this is bad.

Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”

“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.

“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.

“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 

“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 

Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 

With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.

Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.

The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.

Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.

Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  

Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.

Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 

As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.

Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   

Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  

And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.

Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 

“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.

“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”

It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 

Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 

He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 

The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 

“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 

Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…

Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 

He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.

…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 

A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 

You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.

“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.

Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”

Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.

“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.

Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 

More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.

Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.

“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 

There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 

Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.

“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”

“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.

His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.

“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 

Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 

“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  

He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 

“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  

There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.

Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.

“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.

You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”

Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.

He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.

The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   

It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 

“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”

You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.

There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 

“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 

“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.

Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 

Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.

One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 

He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.

There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”

This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 

“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 

Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  

“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.

Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.

An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 

With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 

“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.

“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 

“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.

He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.

Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.

Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”

Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 

The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.

Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  

“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”

The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 

He has dragged you into hell with him.

“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”

“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.

Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”

The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 

Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”

With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  

The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 

Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.

Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 

He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 

“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 

More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 

“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”

That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 

“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.

Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.

“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.

Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”

“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”

“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”

More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 

“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?

Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”

He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 

You can give him time, right?

“Please, Simon, just look at me.”

Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.

“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 

Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”

Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 

Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.

“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.

Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”

You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 

Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 

Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.

But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.

Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 

Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 

Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”

“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”

Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”

The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”

In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.

“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 

You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 

Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”

Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?

Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 

You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”

Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 

“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”

Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.

Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 

Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.

You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 

“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 

You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”

“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.

There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  

You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.

“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 

Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 

Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”

More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 

“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 

His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 

“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”

“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.

At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.

Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 

You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 

Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”

He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 

You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 

Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.

A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 

Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   

“Make it count,” you breathe.

You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   

His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.

“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 

He is gone.

The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.

The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…

What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 

He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.

The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  

It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?

Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.

“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”

The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”

Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.

“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”

“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.

“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 

“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”

Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”

Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass

[morbus-mlm]

Gravity Falls Headcanons/Things I Think About Often (1,2)

⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋

- Mabel's modern artist who we heavily associate her with is Chappell Roan, especially her with the song HOT TO GO! Dipper deserves the same treatment but with Conan Gray okay. I need to see an edit of this silly guy set to Lonely Dancers.

- Pacifica lets her natural hair out once she leaves her family. It's closer to an ash blonde

- Wendy has always been a horror movie girlie, she's seen it all.

- Some of Wendy's friends made those "summoning ___ at 4 am" videos because they were bored, what else is there to do around this town anyways?

- pacifica is a youtuber, she's also a pretty sucessful pro-gamer. She is canonically very good with fps,

- dipper creates some sort of mystery solving/ghost hunting/conspiracy analyzing show. It's a continuation on stuff he did in childhood (Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained).

- Mabel cannot be contained by a job title, she has done everything and anything creative. I feel like her main job would be something like a tattoo artist but on the side she sells sweaters on etsy, does drawing comms, animated, made music, she has her hands everywhere.

- Mabel, Paz, & Dipper will sometimes visit each other when working. I like the idea of Paz guesting on an episode of Dipper's mystery show, Mabel trying to play fps with Paz, Dipper visiting Mabel's tattoo shop and getting pierced there.

- Soos' keyboard getting decorated by the people he considers family. It starts with Mabel putting on like, five stickers on the bottom of it. Stan & Ford both carve into the sides of it. Dipper draws on it in marker. Melody writes words of affection on the sides/an inside joke between them. Abuelita is the one who etches Soos' name onto the keyboard case. Wendy writes like a cool, motivational quote on the case.

- the Hand Witch, her whole situation is looking towards the better. She and her man read as that one meme, "my witch gf" "me letting her do whatever the hell she wants"

- Wendy modifies her furbies. She is absolutely one of those people who makes long neck furbies and puts lights in their eyes/ears, she gives them hands.

- Emma-May & Fiddleford do not reconnect. Emma doesn't know about Fidd's work in the portal, but she does know about him losing his sanity. She does feel sympathetic and understanding towards his situation, but ultimately she doesn't want to force a romantic dynamic with him.

- There are parts of her that have moved on, there are parts of her that still feel anger, and sadness over what happened between them. She's happy that he's in a better state now and reconnecting with their son. Emma-May writes to Fiddleford, hoping that he has a good recovery.

- Fiddleford writes a single letter to her. He writes that he is sorry for not being their to support her, to help her raise their child. I feel like he would be very apologetic but not self-aggrandizing.

- There are parts of him that are still angry at himself, and ones that still wish to avoid dealing with such a difficult and messy situation. But he is a man who moves forward. He writes that he's grateful for Emma-May's wishes, and he wishes her well in return.

- Although their romantic bond with each other has severed, their relationship ends on a kind note.

- ford plays the fiddle, fiddleford plays the banjo.

- If Ford and Fidd were in a romantic relationship, those two would be reserved in public, but real tender in private. Those two read to me as more reserved with their romances.

- Stan after a while just tunes out their calls to each other. They will get in the fucking, "no you hang up" loop, or the "ily" loop

- they’re both pretty healthy when it comes to communication, boundaries, stuff like that. Ford drops the banjo curfew/cutoff when Guck lives at the shack/sets up his trailer next to it.

- Ford unlearns a lot of things instilled in him as a child. the ideas of him being the golden boy or something special (both in the positive and negative sense), are something he now recognizes as ideas, not reality.

- this realization really sets in for him due to a lot of reading, him catching up on modern sciences, including psychology. (it's mostly him almost losing stan)

- Stanley is trying to do the same with his own thoughts of being the screw up, the scapegoat, it's hard for him in different ways. Stanley is a person who, "would insult himself first before anyone else could get to it" without his bravado+con-man persona.

- But they both put in the work. They're good brothers, they help each other.

- both the grunkles favorite sweet after all these years is saltwater taffee, 

- I feel like Pacifica connects well with the adults in the town who aren't her parents. She doesn't exactly see any person as a parental figure, I think she just absorbs advice and experience from the people around her yk. Like her and Lazy Susan definitely have a stronger bond than Paz and her mom.

- Bill never really comes back, he just speaks like he has. In TBoB he acts like he's tough shit, but ultimately he's still in the psych ward-- like. This being has no real authority. I like to think therapy is working out for him, he has good days and bad days.

- Just based on my recollection, McGucket is a very agile man. He seems to be able to crawl up & down surfaces not built for climbing.

- I like to think that post series he takes up mountain climbing/hiking because by this point, he's less scared of supernatural beings compared to when he first came to Gravity Falls.

- McGucket dressing himself, McGucket finally being in a position where he can afford different clothing other than his slacks, him feeling present in his own body again. McGucket in green cowboy wear, (look i really like this Appalachian man, i would very much like to see him old and happy).

- Mystery trio (Stan, Ford, & Fidd) post-cannon. The twins travel the world, occasionally bringing Fidd along for the ride. Fidd is their guy in the chair, the person creating tech on the fly, their #1 man. These three men are absolutely on their way to adventure.

- the X-Men movies hold a soft spot for the Pines Family. They have all of them on DVD, usually the collectors editions. All of the Pines have a crush on Logan. The Stans both love older Logan—

- Mabel's room/home would be filled with little collectables (like tchotchkes or sonny angels)

- Stanley meets the Peanuts artists/goes to Knotsberry Farm. Stan gets a hug from Snoopy and he starts bawling.

- Shermie. I do not care if he is the elder or the younger, all I know is that he is the calmer sibling of the three. Is he well adjusted, (no, you kinda can't be if you were raised by Fillbrick), but he is the most normal.

- Stan's art is clearly influenced by the Peanuts, Ford's art influences are 80s sci-fi + realism. Shermie, his is Hanna-Barbera.

[polarisjisung]

BITTERSWEET

synopsis: it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

wc: 2.7k

pairings: jaemin × fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, uses of petnames, reader ogles at jaemin for a little while, jaemin gives mixed signals but also not really?

notes: I was supposed to post this last week but the formatting was so off anyways happy renjun day, here's a jaemin fic?

part two

even when he was battered, bruised and most probably broken, na jaemin stared up at you with those shiny eyes, almost iridescent under the moonlight.

you havent seen him in weeks.

you'd like to kick and scream and shout at him for ghosting you all this time, the possibilities of everything that could've happened to him, worrying you endlessly up until now.

you hate him for just showing up like this, out of the blue, you think, but his composure suggests that this isn't as big of a deal as you make it out to be—whether it was weeks or maybe even months later, na jaemin would always circle back to you

like always, there he is stood at your doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night, dripping blood all over the welcome mat that lays on your front porch, his usual carefree self

you know you'll be getting a long scolding from your mother about the kind of company you surround yourself with the next morning, before being forced to rub the stains out of said mat, but in this moment, you couldn't seem to care less

perhaps it's because you swear you've never seen anything prettier, even with cuts littered across his skin, and a swollen eye that would certainly discolour the next morning, he looks ethereal.

for a moment, your jaw hangs low and jaemin holds back a chuckle at the sight, though you wish he hadn't, before you slip to the side and let him in, shutting out the cold as he flings the door to a close behind him, finally turning to face you

there's an unfamiliar sweetness to his scent tonight, his clothes oozing with the smell of cologne and what any sane person could recognise as perfume— women's perfume.

suddenly you find it difficult to keep looking at his stupidly pretty face, almost feeling sick

jaemin however, had always basked in the warm feeling of admiration that came with your look, though it mostly fell straight through his heart and inflated his sky high ego instead, jaemin wonders how despite his cocky nature you seemed to welcome him all the same

admittedly tonight your eyes hold a deeper gloominess to them, bloodshot, because you're tired, he tries to convince himself, but he knows a lot of that redness comes from the purple painted splodges against his skin, the bruises that burn deep inside his being— a burning that seems negligible at the sight of you

"cute slippers" he whispers, the sight of your fluffy pink hello kitty slippers causing the heat to rush to your cheeks

the embarrassment fades just as quickly as it seemed to have taken over your entirety— jaemin had seen a lot worse of you "almost as cute as you" he adds

you brush over the topic like it means nothing, frankly it doesn't, like most things with jaemin

"judging by the state of you" you sigh, two hands on your hips as you look him up and down disappointedly, "you didn't win this fight" and jaemin reels back, far too animated for you to assume he's actually in any pain considering the offended expression he wears, but you know him far too well to fall for his, admittedly convincing, acts

"I won, actually" he says weaving his arms through the gaps between yours to pull you closer, letting then hang at your waist

"sure you did" you nod sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, following you into the kitchen

he knows what it means when you hold out two mugs, specifically the ones you had hand painted on your trip to the park when you were 5, adorned with the same floral pattern in different colours, and a cheesy quote continued across the two cups— his eyes light up

"hot chocolate?"

and jaemin hates hot chocolate, until its made by you, the sweet, almost childish drink something he could only savour in the dim lighting of your living room

maybe it was because of that specific brand of crazy expensive hot chocolate you used, that tasted a little dark and sometimes too strong for your liking, or maybe, most probably it was the taste of nostalgia that would linger on his lips each and every time

all jaemin knows is he would find himself laughing at the moustache of marshmallow fluff that would undoubtedly form over your upper lip as you carefully dabbed against his wounds with the antiseptic you kept on hand, one reserved solely for him since he was allergic to the regular stuff

he nods, attempting to grin before pulling his lip between his teeth at the sharp pain that strikes across it—hissing.

you laugh, despite the dull ache that takes over your chest seeing him like this

flicking your head over to the sofa is all you can do, worried your voice would give way if you gave the instructions verbatim but jaemin seems to get the memo.

as he takes a seat on your mother's favourite buttoned yellow velvet loveseat— you choose not to read to far into his choice of sofa

you're fishing through the drawers of your freezer to find some ice to help his wounds but all you can find is a bag of dino nuggets and a bag of peas— you decide the dino nuggets have a larger surface area and would probably be a little more help as you emerge through the kitchen door, hoping you made the right choice

jaemin finds the faint look of contemplation on your face far too adorable to hide the smile that reaches his now coloured cheeks, one darker than the other owing to the bruise that blossoms over it

"here" you offer it out to him wrapped in a towel, having learnt from your mistakes the last time you'd accidentally given him freezer burn

"gonna make me do it all by myself doll?" you shoot a questioning look his way "I'm all ache-y"

contrast to his tough demeanor, jaemin looks up at you with a pout and a look of feigned innocence

"yeah? well you should've thought about that before landing yourself in this situation"

you're ready to turn a full 180 on your heels and walk away, until jaemin's fingers wrap around your wrist, bruised knuckles begging for some sympathy

"please?"

ultimately you give in. you knew you would the second he looked at you with those shiny big eyes. you didn't know how to say no, not to him

"fine."

"that's my girl" he beams up at you, you know better than to let his words replay in your mind, his girl, why did that sound so damn good?

as your press the towel to his cheek, the cool feeling against his burning hot skin makes him wince, though you're not sure who's in more pain considering the way you your heart threatens to leap out of your chest

"how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful huh jaemin" you sigh, rubbing circles against his warm skin in an attempt to comfort him, angry eyes latched onto the rough blood stained patches

"don't call me that" his voice drops an octave somehow louder than before despite coming in whispers

"what else shall I call you? is that not your name jaemin?"

his eyes almost flash over completely black as he huffs, "not to you it isn't" and you notice the slither of seriousness that remains unmasked beneath his playful tone— you wonder why jaemin makes no effort to hide the solemnity of his words

but that's who he had always been, hot and cold, difficult to read, even more so to understand, he was confusing at best and so like most things with jaemin, you'd decided putting much thought to it wasn't your best idea, you would only be breaking your own heart.

"oh I didn't know it was different for me" you place a band aid against his wound, reaching to treat the next, your tongue poking out from between your lips causing jaemin to suddenly smile, eyes unwavering from the soft pink skin of your lip

between nights spent in his lousy apartment, cooped up in the illusive comfort of his arms and days spent with tear stained cheeks at the thought of being some disposable little thing in his life, you can't help but find yourself unsure of your place in his life

the acidity rising in your throat should be enough of a reality check for you to know the answer to your question, but self awareness had never been your strong suit.

at times he made you feel like the only girl in the world, most times he made no effort to acknowledge your existence, because jaemin was a man of two extremes

when he cared, or at least seemed to, he did so with his whole heart, and when he didn't— well you couldn't have felt any more worthless

right now his speech is sweet, like his voice is honey and his words are sugar-coated, you're intoxicated by the way his deep cologne overwhelms your senses, making your best attempt to filter out the cheap feminine scent that seems to have blended itself into his

"you know it is doll, everything is different with you" his voice reduces further into deeper whispers, words that hit your mind and soul all at once, heartbeat sounding somewhere in the background as the words echo in your mind

you shake your head.

jaemin had always been adventurous with his words, he was bold to say the least, meaning you knew to take his words with a pinch of salt, or two— however many were necessary really.

honestly speaking, you know you'd believe anything that came out of his mouth— na jaemin could wake up one day and decide the sky was pink and the earth was flat and you'd take it as bible.

you suppose it's just integrated into your genetic coding or something, to be at his beck and call, to let the walls you build around yourself fall down every time, you would protect yourself from the whole world, but the harsh truth was, you couldn't protect yourself from him ,though you didn't mind all that much.

drunk on what little love he gave you, you find a sudden dizziness overwhelm you— the good kind that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside even if just for a moment.

"one of these days I'll leave you at the door to rot" your eyes roll at his words in an attempt to return to the playful mood, and jaemin knows you would never, but the brief mention of the possibility still makes him gulp, sound resonating in his ears

"never" he whispers, suddenly his eyes are glossy and his grip on the warm mug begins to loosen, the thought of losing you never having been one to cross his mind until now, you however, seem as unbothered as before

similar to most things in life, jaemin took you for granted.

but that was the thing, you were unlike anyone, anything, any part of his life— you were special.

jaemin knew you meant a lot to him, it wasn't a secret he tried to hide, not that he was particularly good at expressing it either, but the way your hair falls over your face as you concentrate on patching up his injuries and your skin glows under the dim light has jaemin wondering just how much you mean to him.

jaemin decides you mean the most to him, more than anyone else.

as a man of habit, he wonders what that would mean for these habits of his that you hated oh so much. very little, most probably. he had you amongst a thousand other wrapped around his finger, cast under his spell, deeply infatuated with him but somehow playing with you felt the most special.

that was the problem, you were special to him and as much as he enjoyed playing with fire, jaemin had never thought he'd find himself getting burnt.

you don't realise the silence that befalls the room, nothing but the soft buzz of the fridge or the flicker of the soon to fuse kitchen light mixed with your soft breaths— he had noticed they grew louder as you became more exhausted, guilt beginning to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach, knowing he was keeping you awake

he was always a little selfish when it came to you, he knew that

your eyes land on jaemin, his flooding with something you can only hope is a feeling of warmth— anything but his usual sudden switch up before he'd announce he was leaving, only for you to see him the next time he got himself like this, a couple nights into the next week most probably, a routine you can't say you had appreciated, nor condoned

most things with jaemin were like this, short lived, and bittersweet, although the bitter part seemed more overpowering at times

you can't help but hold onto the little slither of hope that tonight will be different

"hey doll" his free hand cups your cheek, forcing your noticeably distant eyes into his—but instead of the icy cold stare you expect, you're met with fire, his eyes burning with promise

"hmm?" your eyes lock, "what's up?"

"never stop nagging at me, please" he sucks in a harsh breath, hoping you'll say something to stop him from completely losing control of his words and spilling every thought he's ever held back when it came to you, a lot really

but you only take a sip of the warm drink in your mug, the tones of dark cocoa and the traces of coffee so distinct.

the white foam spreading across your lip as you now decide to tend to the gash beneath his eyebrow, though jaemin sees it as an excuse to take ahold of your face between his fingers, thumb tracing over your upper lip

"cute" your wide eyes make him chuckle, noticing a small speck of white still resting on your lip

"would you look at that, I missed a spot" you find yourself being pulled further into his lap, legs messily sprawled across the couch along with his, you don't mind however, his pink glossy lips the only thing on your mind

you'd like to let him ruin you, make you his puppet, blind you with his warmth and make you his and only his. even if you were his little plaything, it didn't matter, nothing mattered as long as you were his.

"and what are you going to do about it nana, hmm?"

you let your nose rest gently against his, soft vanilla scent mixing with the deep musky cologne jaemin wore, you wonder how it manages to last throughout the day considering your perfumes lasted all of 5 minutes, at best

"whatever you'd like doll, just say the word and I'll do it"

"you promise?"

jaemin nods, "I promise" and he holds you tight, because like all things good in life, jaemin knows one day, he'll lose you too

as you pout your lips at his, a knowing smile in his eyes , the first aid box is long forgotten behind you and your lips fall atop each other, like they'd always meant to.

you can't help but wonder how long jaemin will stick to this promise of his, forever you hope, though you know better.

especially when his hot cocoa flavoured kisses, like the true essence of jaemin, were so damn bittersweet.