#especially now with the prices n everything going on in the world

[foxstens]

i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 11: It's Coming

Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.

A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!

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At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 

It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.

You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 

You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 

Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 

“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 

You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 

“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 

Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 

You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 

You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 

“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 

He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 

“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 

“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 

A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 

You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 

“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 

You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 

His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 

He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 

John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 

Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 

“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.

“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 

Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 

“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 

You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 

John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 

You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 

“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 

“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 

Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 

They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 

Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 

“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 

“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 

“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 

Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 

“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 

Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 

“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”

You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 

“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 

You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 

It would have always been your alpha first. 

Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 

You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 

Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 

You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 

Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 

Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 

“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”

He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 

“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”

Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 

“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 

“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 

Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”

You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 

Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”

You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 

You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 

Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 

You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 

“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 

“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”

“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 

You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 

“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 

“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”

Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 

“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.

“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 

You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 

They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 

“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 

You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 

You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 

You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 

Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”

Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 

“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 

You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 

It's not right. 

Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 

You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 

Nest. 

You're nesting. 

You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 

You've just built a nest. 

“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 

You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 

“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”

You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.

You wake up nauseous. 

There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 

It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 

You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 

The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 

Realization dawns on you suddenly. 

You’re hungry. 

You’re very hungry. 

You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 

You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 

The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 

You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 

The thought makes you almost want to cry. 

You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 

“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 

“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 

You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 

Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 

You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 

“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 

You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 

They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 

“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 

You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 

“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 

You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 

He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 

You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 

You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 

Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 

You certainly feel like one. 

You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 

You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 

It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 

You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 

It only serves to make you more hungry. 

You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 

You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 

“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 

You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 

“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 

“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 

You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 

You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 

“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 

“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 

You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 

He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.

You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 

You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 

You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 

“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 

She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 

“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 

“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 

Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 

You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 

“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 

“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 

“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 

“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 

“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 

You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 

“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 

She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 

“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 

“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 

She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 

“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 

John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 

Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 

“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 

You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 

“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 

You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 

Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 

You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 

Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 

Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 

Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 

You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 

“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 

“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 

“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 

“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 

“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 

“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 

You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 

You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 

They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 

Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 

“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 

You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 

Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 

“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 

“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 

“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 

Before you get hungry again. 

You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 

You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 

It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 

The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 

You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 

You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 

“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 

The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 

You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”

John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 

“Where's he going?” You ask. 

“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 

You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 

“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 

You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”

John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 

His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 

You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 

“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”

You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 

“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 

You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 

John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 

“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”

“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”

John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 

Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 

Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 

“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.

“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 

“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 

You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.

“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 

“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 

Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”

John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”

Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 

John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 

Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 

You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  

Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 

“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 

You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 

The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 

You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 

He almost seems...nervous. 

“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 

“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 

He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 

You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 

The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 

“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 

You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 

He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 

Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”

“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 

You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 

“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”

You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 

“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”

“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”

He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 

You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”

He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 

NEXT ->

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[no-144444]

the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)

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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader

summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?

7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)

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

You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 

Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 

Sounds like you have it all. 

The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.

You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 

Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 

“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”

And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 

“Do you need your makeup touched up?”

“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 

“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”

“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”

“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 

“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 

“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 

“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”

You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”

“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.

But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 

Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 

And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 

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

You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.

“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.

Bullshit.

“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 

“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 

“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”

Oh. I guess it changed. 

“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 

“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”

He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”

“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.

“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”

He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 

But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 

“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”

“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”

“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”

“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”

You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”

Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 

“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 

“Y/n.”

Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.

Oh. 

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 

“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”

You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 

“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”

Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 

“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”

“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 

“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”

“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 

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

Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”

“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 

Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”

You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”

Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”

“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 

You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 

“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 

The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 

‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 

‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 

The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 

You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 

“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”

You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 

Lando was entranced. 

You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 

“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”

Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 

You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?

You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 

“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“I feel like shit-”

“We all do. Let’s go.”

And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 

“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 

“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.

The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 

“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 

“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 

“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 

“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”

You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 

“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 

You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 

“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”

“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”

“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”

“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.

“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”

With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 

It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.

You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 

You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-

Knock knock. 

“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.

“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 

You sat up, staring at him. 

“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”

You nodded. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 

You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”

He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 

“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 

His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 

“Oh,” he breathed out. 

You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”

God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”

You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 

“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”

“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”

“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 

You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 

He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”

“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 

When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?

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

Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 

“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”

“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”

“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”

“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”

“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.

“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”

“Your best isn’t good enough.”

And he hung up.

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

The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 

What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?

Well, apparently not. 

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

Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”

“Tell her to piss off!”

“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 

“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 

“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 

“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 

“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”

Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 

“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”

“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 

“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 

He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?

“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 

Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”

“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”

Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”

Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”

Lando nodded. 

“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”

“What did Y/n say?”

Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”

Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”

“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”

Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 

Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 

He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 

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

You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 

“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 

You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”

You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 

“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.

“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”

You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”

He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 

“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.

“I do,” you chuckled. 

You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 

The perfect night. 

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

He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 

“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 

The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 

You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 

Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 

Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 

Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”

“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”

“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”

You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”

Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 

“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 

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

“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”

You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”

Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”

And then you walked back to Ferrari. 

Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 

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

The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 

“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 

“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 

“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 

“Yes!” you agreed. 

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

And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?

“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”

You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”

He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”

He didn’t waste time. 

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

You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 

You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.

“Morning?” she answered groggily. 

“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”

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

You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 

“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 

You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”

“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 

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

Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 

The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 

It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 

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

Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.

Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 

Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 

You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 

You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 

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

“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  

“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”

He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 

He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 

Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?

Apparently not. 

You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”

He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 

The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 

But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 

And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 

But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 

“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 

You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 

“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 

The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 

“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”

You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”

He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”

You chuckled. “More than anything.”

“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”

He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 

His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 

“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.

Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”

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

landonorris

1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others

love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n

comments

user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party

y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.

georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?

lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).

lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM

danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[victoria-grimesss]

Price Headcanons ~SFW & NSFW~

masterlist ->Paring: Captain John Price x F!Reader ->Warning: fluff, romance, smut down below >:) ->A/N: MDNI! I've had some of these floating around my head and had to write them down.

SFW:

This man needs a vacation, he needs to sit on the beach and drink a little something with an umbrella vacation.

I imagine even if he went on vacation, he would be the "feel free to text me if anything comes up I'm just a flight away" kinda guy. Please someone make him relax.

He's a romantic guy for sure, will kiss you on the hand and bring you flowers without asking.

When you go out to eat he will open the car door, the restaurant door, and pull out the chair for you because the woman he loves will NOT be touching a door. He gives you a wink once he tucks your chair in.

When he's home, especially right after he gets back he loves nothing more than to sit side by side and read your books together, make him a good cup of tea and he's sending heart eyes your way.

His favorite way to sleep is with you right on top of him. Out on the job he sleeps with his gear on, so he's become accustomed to having a weight on his chest when he sleeps, he feels uneasy without it. But when you lay onto of him like that he's out like a light.

He gets nightmares frequently, if you're a light sleeper he apologizes for waking you up but you never complain and for that he cannot repay you. If you're a heavy sleeper and you don't wake up he'll calm his beating heart and find comfort in your scent and soft breaths. Sometimes he wants to talk about it sometimes he doesn't, it depends on the severity and if he wants to plague you with it. At times he just wants to lay with you in his arms, he's safe at home with you, his boys are safe at their homes, everything is okay.

He's built a steady routine over the years, part of that routine is waking up ten minutes before he's supposed to so he can admire you when you sleep and hold you close to his bare chest, he loves these mornings.

He trusts you with his life, and with that he'll let you trim up his beard, a barber botched it once and Gaz laughed at him, so he said you're the only other person allowed to do it now.

He definitely falls asleep when watching TV and when you try to change it he'll wake up and say he's watching it.

One time you washed his hat without telling him and he panicked like when you lose your wallet. You had to pre-soak his hat twice to get it semi-normal.

I imagine him as a good cook but a shit baker. He gets frustrated when he tried to follow a cake recipe for your birthday and can't find the recipe under the person's life story. He went to the store and bought one then wrote your name on it.

He loves it when he can show off how strong he is, sometimes you'll pretend you can't open a jar just so he can crack his knuckles and "show you how its done".

He's over the moon if you ask him to show you how to fish, even more elated if you offer it as a date idea.

He loves to sit at the counter and listen to you talk about your day. He's a sucker about your voice and could listen to you talk about literally anything.

He calls you on his way back to base and talks to you on the drive home, makes the drive go faster.

He starts ring shopping 2 months after you two started dating, he knew you were the one.

He almost threw up when he proposed, he was so fucking nervous but the night went perfectly.

Definitely carried you through the door of your shared place when you got married, he's old fashioned like that.

His dad jokes are out of this world awful, but you laugh at them even if it hurts, because you love him.

Loves to have the team over to watch sport matches, when you were house shopping he always referenced about having them over when the two of you would view the living room.

When the two of you are out he puts a hand on the small of you back to guide you through crowds.

NSFW:

His stamina is impressive, he's an older guy but he can go for rounds and those rounds are heavy and sweaty.

Alot of things you do turn him on, kiss him on the spot where his neck meets his head, touch his knee and move you hand slowly up, tell him how much you missed him, tell him he looks good in that shirt, wear that shirt, really anything you do turns the man on.

John Price loves to love you through and through this man is a giver.

He will kiss you from ankle all the way up, muttering about how good you looked today and how much he was thinking about getting you out of these clothes.

Not possessive but more protective. Your relationship is built on mutual respect for one another, although there is a trend between the times when you get a little more attention from other guys and when he absolutely fucks your brains out. He denies it the next morning.

He uses his voice to his advantage. He purrs in your ear hours before he undresses you, light light touches and honeyed words butter you up to the point you're begging for him to take your clothes off. "You need me this bad love? Desperate girl." He wears a devilish smile.

Certified pussy eating master and I stand by that. That man can go forever between your thighs, his eyes roll to the back of his head when he first licks you, you'll have to pry him away beard soaked with evidence of his skills.

Good with his hands too, he angles then just the right way to find your G-spot, all while saying the dirtiest things just so he can feel you clench around his fingers. "You like that, fuck look at you dripping down my hand."

He loves when you grip his arms when he drives himself into you, you leave nail marks and he gets off on it. That you're feeling so good from what he's doing to you that you have to hold on that tight.

Favorite positions would be missionary, cowgirl, or anything where he can look you in the eyes so he can see your reaction when he slides it in so agonizingly slow.

Loves it when you ride him, front facing so he can see you cum. He makes you wear his hat for sure. And when it dips too low in front of your eyes he'll stop all movement just to fix it. "There's my pretty girl." He grinds into you to start again.

You guys fucked in his car once and he loved it, couldn't do it again though. His back hurt too much the next day.

Guilty pleasure is hotel sex. The both of you get a nice big room at a fancy hotel, have sex in clean white sheets making a mess of the newly made bed, he fucks you in the bed, the shower, the desk, over the dresser, and against the wall, afterwards you two order all you can eat room service.

He loves getting blowjobs when he smokes, something about the combination of the two make his head dizzy in a wonderful way.

Heavy on safe-words and making sure you feel the best you can when you two have sex, always checking in on you but in the most seductive ways as to not lose the mood.

Price loves to praise you, before during and after he's telling you how good you're doing and how beautiful you look taking him so well.

Most of the time he asks you where he should cum, he just likes hearing you say it, it gets him off harder.

Aftercare!! John is big on it, he'll take you to the bathroom and you'll have a bath together or shower, he'll give you extra time when he leaves so he can change the bedding and put on a sweet movie.

If your muscles ache he'll take a body oil or lotion and gets those knots out with those expert hands, he prefers it when you're naked for these massage sessions, easier to get all your sore spots he says.

More than half the time this result in another session and neither of you are complaining.

---

peepaw for the win!!!

[yandere-kokeshi]

How would Dad! Ghost react to coming home, finding his son gone - being kidnapped by enemies?

Warnings: yandere behavior, and violence.

A/N: all platonic. Ty for the ask <3.

Dad! Ghost had felt fear before — from his father, being tortured, being betrayed and being in war — but nothing as petrifying as this. You were gone. And he would tear the whole fucking world apart until he found you. 

Price and the rest of the team and Laswell and Farah are quickly informed of the whereabouts. Some reactions of “You had a son?” to “We’ll get ‘em back. We promise.”. They immediately get to work, as does Ghost. But he’s a rope ready to snap. 

He’s unsure how to react. He’s angry, snapping at Price when they ask what you were last wearing. Becoming unbelievably quiet where he doesn’t answer anything, or to anyone; chewing his lips until they bleed. 

Yet, he doesn’t cry, sleep, nor stop working– he can’t show weakness, especially since you’re out there alone.  

Every passing second and minute hits him like a bullet train. The ‘what ifs’ trailing his mind. He’s ready to blow off heads. Dad! Ghost needs to know if you’re okay. 

Finally, Laswell informs the team and him of your whereabouts — trapped in a large-abandoned warehouse, possibly chained with enemies. In a way, he was relieved. But, he winced with physical pain at the thought of you covered in many battering. 

And with that, Dad! Ghost doesn’t waste any time. His eyes sharp and gaze unwavering, storming inside with bloody intentions. Pure muscle memory with his trained tactics, discarding the men with single blows, either to the head or their neck slit; not missing a single step, ramming into the shut doors and going through the empty rooms in hope of finding you. 

Soon, Dad! Ghost finds you and rushes over to you, holding you with extreme tightness; urges on picking you up into his arms. He covers your eyes, not wanting you to see his bloody wrath. But by the stained blood on his gloved-hands and gear, it’s easily shown what he did. 

Despite how you look — whether with blood from him, or being hurt — you’re transported to a hospital. And by the time you reach into a room with IV’s, you’re passed out, sleeping away by the huge dose of adrenaline. 

Right beside you is Dad! Ghost, caressing your hand and looking at you with sullen eyes. You’re alive. But nearly died because of him. 

He apologizes in a soft whisper, and right when you don’t expect it, he cries. A few tears dropping from his eyes, sinking into the skull balaclava.

In hindsight, Dad! Ghost feels terrible. Not only at your traumatic experience, but if you’re mad at him or how he now feels incapable of being your father now. He promised to himself that he would protect you. And he didn’t, causing this terrifying encounter for you. 

For now, he’s focused on you waking up — watching how you breathe, his own fingers playing with yours, consistently looking at your vitals and pulse; fidgeting with everything. 

—

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© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[kendallroydefender]

Cowboy take me away (Kayce Dutton x Roy!Reader) Chapter 1

Summary: You’re Y/n Roy the youngest daughter of one of the richest men in America but all that money can’t make you happy and you decide to move to Montana for a while. But what happens when you meet the youngest son of another influential man?

A/n: it’s here!!! This is mainly a Yellowstone fanfic and you don’t have to watch Sucession to follow along!

You stepped out of the car. The car you bought a week ago, when you were sure leaving was the right thing to do. The warm weather hitting your skin. Breathing in the fresh air after a long drive.

You were the daughter of one of the most influential men in the country. Your father, Logan Roy, was a media mogul and owned one of the biggest news networks in the world. But that came with a price, you had always been in the public eye and on top of that your father wasn’t an easy person to grow up with. Now you’re siblings still fought over being his favorite, still fought for his love. A few weeks ago, after thanksgiving where he hit your nephew you finally realized that he would never change.

So you’d made the decision to leave New York behind, to take a few months off in the country side. Hopefully your mental health would get better out here. And you’ve always wanted to visit Yellowstone after seeing pictures of the stunning landscape. To no one’s surprise your family wasn’t the biggest fans of your decision to go, especially your father who always wanted his kids close to control them. But you were a grown woman, yes you were still in your twenties but an adult nonetheless.

Your siblings thought the idea was ridiculous except for your oldest brother Connor who loved that you would follow his footsteps (as he said). He had also bought a ranch in New Mexico where he spent most of his days.

Now you weren’t so sure anymore if this decision was the right one. You had never left the city for more than a few weeks, hell you were a city person. And you had never been alone anywhere. Your family and they’re staff or your personal staff were with you. But if you’d never tried you would never know.

You took your suitcases and brought the to the small house you were renting. You had put all your clothes into the closets and your toiletries in the bathroom before you went into the small garden behind the house. It was well kept, a bit whimsical and overgrown in some places but beautiful nonetheless. A set of chairs on the lawn and a swingseat under a tree. Yeah, you could do with this.

You made some food with the groceries you picked up on the way here and ate your dinner on the couch. Everything was nice until the evening arrived.

You should have seen it coming, It was your first night and you were already bored. 'Off to a great start' you thought to yourself.

After a quick google search you made your way to one of the bars in town.

Inside it was quite crowded. A band played country music and some people danced. You went to the counter and ordered a simple drink, nothing too fancy like you would have ordered in New York.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, it were mostly cowboys and cowgirls. You must have stood out quite a bit - not too much though since you’ve left your fancier Roy clothing in New York, taking only sweaters, shirts and jeans with you. It was nice though.

”Hey, Tom have you seen my sister?.“ a voice next to you said. You looked to your right and spotted a quite handsome man. He seemed to be around your age maybe a little older, with longish brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a trucker cap backwards on his head and a dark shirt. He looked rugged in the best way. His eyes landed on you and you quickly averted your eyes even though it was probably too late - he had caught you staring.

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment and you waited a second before you looked back at him.

”'ve never seen you around here.“ he said

”Just got here today“ you told him with a shrug and a smirk appeared on his face hearing that you didn’t sounded like you were from Montana at all.

”Where’re you’re from?“ He asked

”Uh, New York.“ You said and he let out a low blow

”She’s over there.“ the barkeeper interrupted your conversation, pointing his finger in one direction

”Uh-huh. Thanks Tom.“ the man said before he turned to you again

”I’ll have to go but have fun in Montana.“ he said before he turned to leave. After a few steps he turned his head and your eyes met again, with a small nod he turned around once more.

You would lie if you said you weren’t disappointed by him having to leave so quickly. But it seemed like he was just here to pick his sister up anyway and you didn’t even knew if he was single.

The next few days you spend getting settled into the new house. You went to the grocery store, something you haven’t done in years since your family always had people to do these kind of things. But you liked it. Liked being responsible for yourself and you liked being able to meet and converse with others.

Your family always stayed in their circle, almost every meeting with someone you didn’t knew was business related and talk was always about work.

You took walks around town and enjoyed the scenery.

Today you had planned to go on a hike. You looked up the route beforehand so you wouldn’t end up lost. There were other people on a hike but not too many.

Everything was going well. That is until you must have stepped onto a stone.

You fell and felt a sharp pain shooting through your ankle. Shit, if this wasn’t the biggest city girl hurts herself while hiking was the biggest prejudice.

You started to get up when you heard the sound of a horse walking close to you. You looked up as the animal came into your view and felt yourself getting warm. Of course it was the hot Cowboy from the other night.

”You alright?“ He asked and you shrugged

”Yeah, I just sit in the dirt for fun.“

”Shit no reason to get all fuss .“ He said but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He got down from his horse and tied it on a nearby tree.

”Lemme see.“ his voice had softened as he crouched down next to you, carefully taking your foot in his hands. Twisting it gently and putting some pressure on some spots. At one point you let out an ”Ouch.“

”It’s not broken - just twisted. Come on let me bring you down.“ he offered his hand to you and you gladly took it. He helped you up, looping his arm around your back so you could lean on him.

Once you were sitting on the horse he got up too, sitting in front of you.

”You can hold onto me.“ he told you, voice kinder than you’d expected.

You intertwined your fingers in front of his stomach. You felt warmth spread in your stomach.

He took the reins and the horse started moving. You looked around, taking in the scenery.

”Wow it’s even more beautiful up here.“ you said in a low tone.

Kayce smiled at your words. To be honest he was maybe a little glad about the fact that it was you who he found. You had come to his mind a few times since he’d met you a few days ago.

You had intrigued him, there was an air about you that he liked and felt like he wanted to find out more about you.

”Where are we going by the way? Not that I think you’ll kidnap me on a horse.“

”My fathers Ranch. My cars there, I can drive you home.“

”Oh. Thank you.“ you said

”No need to. Just basic human decency.“ he said and you cold hear the smile in his voice.

”Yeah, I’m not used to that in the city.“ you chuckled in wich he joined in.

”Why’d you come here?“ he asked

”I needed a fresh start. I wasn’t happy in my, uhm, my living situation in New York. I knew I would get depressed if I stayed.“

He hummed

”Are you feeling better now?“

”To be honest I’m not sure. It feels great that I’m away from everything but I don’t know anyone here yet… so it’s kind of lonely.“

He hummed as an answer.

The rest of the ride to the ranch was filled with easy chatting. You found out about that his Dad owned a Ranch where he worked as a horsetrainer. You told him you worked in Media at your fathers company, not telling him who your father was.

The ranch was gorgeous. A big stone house as the main building, some stables and a few smaller houses. You earned a few looks from some of the cowboys leaning against a fence.

He got down and helped you safely get back to the ground.

”I’d show you around but I think your foot wouldn’t be too fond of that.“

”Maybe another time.“ you told him and he studied you for a second

”Yeah, another time.“

He had given the horse to one of the men standing close by, who was called Jimmy. Telling him to bring it back into the stable.

He helped you into his red truck and closed the door after you sat in the vehicle.

You told him where the place you stayed in was and he seemed to know where to go. The conversation was easy between you, he pointed out some places.

”You can get good burgers there.“ he said pointing to a diner

”We could do something if you’d like? I mean because you said you felt kind of lonely.“

”Oh? Yeah that be great.“ you smiled wich caused him to smile too

”Okay.“

He helped you up the front stairs of your place and you waved as he drove away. With a warm feeling and the thought that maybe you had made a friend you went inside.

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-one

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Here we go! Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags:

"Mom, do you need anything before I leave?" I asked my mom, who was sitting on the couch in our living room.

Her eyes were cold and vacant as she watched the television, well tried to anyway. It didn't matter if she paid attention to whatever was on, she would forget in a while. When she didn't respond, I sighed and brushed the graying hair out of her face which caused her to look up at me, finally.

No hint of recognition in those vacant eyes.

"Who are you?"

Her words chipped away at the stone wall I had around my heart as I blew out a shaky breath.

"Y/N. I'm your daughter," I said while kneeling in front of her.

Even with my name spoken, my mother didn't recognize me.

It's been like this for the last six months since she first received her Alzheimer's diagnosis. It was farther than we would have liked and the doctor said that her health would decline fast. She forgot who I was one month after her diagnosis and the bad days were more so than the good days. From the second I woke up till the very moment I lay in bed for the night I spent the day taking care of her until recently. My job was going to pick up again which meant I would leave her for about five weeks.

I was terrified to leave her alone especially for that long. There was this great company that I can have a live in nurse take care of her while I'm gone but when I looked into pricing, I nearly had a heart attack. We did okay money wise. After my dad passed away a few years ago, he left us a decent cushion. The house was paid off a very long time ago which helped on the bills; except the medical bills.

Every drug, every trial, and every visit burned deeper into my pockets and now the overdue bill's kept pilling up on our kitchen table. My job paid good enough where I could fill our fridge with groceries and take care of the smaller things but even that couldn't help with the bigger things. I thought about asking for a small raise but the fear of having to tell one of my boss' why was daunting so I never did.

Which is where I was headed now. I had to help get everything ready before we hit the road for the tour. My heart fluttered knowing I would see him tonight.

"Y/N," my mom raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I don't know a Y/N."

I swallowed the lump in my throat then gave her knee a squeeze. "I should only be gone for a few hours. My phone number is writing on the piece of paper next to the house phone."

I pointed to the table next to her where said phone and paper was. My mom tracked it with her vacant eyes and nodded.

"Just watch your show and before you know it, I'll be back. Alright?"

She said nothing, merely watched the television, so I stood straight, giving her shoulder a squeeze and left the house. I wasn't the one to pray so instead I whispered out into the world my words repeatedly.

"She will be fine. She can handle herself for a few hours."

I walked into the large warehouse hearing laugher and voices carry which eased my worries of leaving my mom alone. No one I worked with knew about my mom and I planned to keep it that way. Davis smiled at me when I walked over to the large table he was standing in front of, a large array of shirts, hats, and sweaters lay on top of it.

"Think it'll be enough?" I asked as I started helping him fold everything into sections.

Davis shrugged. "It's always good to have extra than not enough."

"The new designs look sick," I said.

"Thanks," Davis smiled while bumping his shoulder with me.

While Davis and everyone else who worked for the band had important jobs, mine wasn't anything even close to important. The only reason I got the job was because Davis and I went to high school together. We weren't best friends but stayed in touch. He's also the only one who knows something is going on back home but never knew exactly what; which is why he recommended the job for me. He knew I was desperate for money.

I was the merch girl for Bad Omens and the vocalist absolutely despised it.

Maybe it was because I never asked him for the job or the slack that merch girls always get. They only have the job so they can hook up with members of the band. Which was the absolute last thing I wanted to do; even if he was breathtakingly handsome.

As if her could sense my thoughts about him, his ethereal voice echoed throughout the warehouse and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing at the back of a large truck, the one where the merch and other things for the new tour will go.

The smile that graced Noah Sebastian's face brightened everything dark and scary in my mind for a few moments and I reveled in the way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

"You're staring."

Turning back to Davis, I scoffed and went back to work of stuffing the boxes. "I am not."

"Are you actually going to talk to him this tour? Last one you barley said three words to him," he said.

"I would if he wasn't such an asshole towards me. I didn't even do anything to deserve the cold shoulder."

Davis sighed while letting a large pile fall into the box at our feet, a lot messier than the ones I had been packing. I gave him a narrowed gaze of annoyance, one he ignored.

"Don't take it personal. Noah is quiet. I'm sure if you tried to talk to him, you'd find out he's a great guy," Davis suggested.

"I'd rather chew broken glass," I muttered.

I'd work with Bad Omens and crew for about almost a year now and in that time, Noah and I spoke less than ten words to each other. While on the last tour, I kept to myself not knowing anyone besides Davis which might have put me off to Noah. He probably thought I didn't care about getting to know anyone else here; which wasn't true. I had other things on my mind.

Like wondering how I was going to pay my mom's medical bills.

"New designs look sick, Davis."

My shoulders stiffened at the deep voice, his scent filling all of my senses. I could see Noah out of the corner of my eye while I continued to fold the shirts and sweaters. His gaze burned into the side of my head before falling to the messy pile of clothes in the box.

"You're not going to leave it like that, are you?" Noah raised a brow.

I audibly choked on my spit at him blaming me for that mess.

"No, I was planning on leaving it like that. I mean what's the point of folding everything perfect when it's just going to be packed in a box," I replied dryly while holding up the pile of clothes I had been folding.

Something flashed in his dark eyes, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly.

"She does speak."

"Oh, fuck off Noah. I'm not in the mood," I snapped while giving him my back.

Davis let out a low whistle before taking the now full box of merch to the truck, leaving Noah and I alone. It might have been a bad idea snapping at him like that but it was true. I was dealing with a lot at home so the last thing I needed was bullshit from him.

"Did you break up with your boyfriend?"

The shirt I was folding fell onto the table at his words. Boyfriend? I didn't have one; I never did.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I muttered, fingers toying with the fabric of the shirt.

Noah hummed while leaning against the table next to me. He sat facing everything behind me while I stood facing the wall behind him.

"Davis didn't want to go out with you?" He pressed with a sly smirk.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my growing anger at bay. I already snapped at him once, I couldn't risk my job my doing it again.

"Davis and I are just friends. I don't think of him like that and I'm sure the feelings are mutual."

"Good," Noah nodded. "Because the last thing I need is you distracting someone on the crew because of a little crush."

My eyes snapped over to him, flaring with fury. "What is your problem with me, Noah? If you don't want me here, just fire me so you can stop wasting my time and yours."

With how much taller he was than me, even sitting on the edge of the table Noah towered over me as he leaned closer. His warm breath fanned across my face as I peered up at him. Even with my fury, my heart hammered hard against my chest with our proximity, something I hope Noah couldn't hear.

"Trust me, angel. You'd know if I was wasting my time with you."

He watched me for a few moments before walking away; him taking the warmth that cocooned around me away with him. I blinked long after he left, trying to let his words process in my mind. What the hell did he mean by that?

But suddenly, his pet name for me was the only thing at the forefront of my mind and I wasn't sure if I liked the way my body reacted to it; heat spreading from my heart straight down between my legs, core aching with need.

For the next little while, I worked alone finishing up folding all the merch and when I had four boxes stuffed full; I began bringing them over to the truck. On my way back with my third box, I saw Noah and Nick Folio standing at the back of the truck, laughing about something I didn't know. I ignored the way my stomach warmed at seeing the large smile on Noah's face as I walked past him up the ramp of the truck.

Folio noticed how I could barley see over the box and reached out for it.

"Hey, Y/N. Need some help?" He asked.

I let him take it with a small smile. "Thanks, Folio."

Unlike Noah, I spoke to the other members of the band and crew. I wouldn't say we were close but more than strangers.

"How many more do you have?" He asked as he set down the box next to the others.

"Just one. I can get it though, I don't want to distract you."

As the last few words came from lips, I made sure to lock my eyes with Noah, who was watching me with bright eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The way his eyes glinted with the setting sun almost made a smile break out on my face.

Almost.

Folio looked between Noah and I before letting out a low chuckle. "If you guys go the whole tour with this tension, something is going to explode before it ends."

I shook my head. "There's no tension."

"Right," Folio clicked his tongue. "And I play guitar for Bad Omens."

The sarcasm in his voice wasn't missed and with a sigh, I left the two of them back to whatever they were doing before I interpreted. The only tension, if there was any, between Noah and me was hate. He never liked me even from my first day. So why would I bother being nice to him when he didn't give a shit about me?

After the last box was loaded into the truck, I began walking back into the warehouse to see if Davis needed me for anything else when my phone rang.

"Mom?" I spoke when I saw the caller I.D.

Noah was walking inside the warehouse with Nick Ruffilo, laughing that beautiful laugh, so not wanting him to hear my conversation I held back away from them.

"Who is this?"

I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. "Mom, it's Y/N. You called me. Is everything alright?"

"Oh." There was a long beat of silence on the other line before some rustling came through. "I was hungry and wanted to make something to eat."

"NO!" I yelled into the phone.

Noah turned to look at my sudden outburst but I didn't bother to look at him, the fear of wondering if my mom turning on the stove filled me.

"Did you turn on the stove?" I asked.

"No, there's a note saying not too. Which is why I called."

I swallowed the sob that almost crawled out of my throat.

"Okay, good." I nodded. "I'm almost done at work. I'll pick up some pizza on the way home. You like pizza."

Another long beat of silence.

"Alright. I'll go back to watching my show."

"Good, I'll be home soon. Love you mom."

The line clicked off before I even finished speaking and I stared at my phone with a long breath. If she had turned on the stove, things would have been a lot worse. A few weeks ago while I was taking a nap, my mom tried to cook something and forgot about it, letting it blaze up in flames and when she tried to extinguish it, she burned her hand pretty bad. So since that day, I had a large note tapped to the front panel of the oven saying not to use it.

Thank goodness I did.

"Everything alright?"

I jumped slightly at the deep voice and quickly wiped away the stress tears that burned at the corners of my eyes before turning on my heels. Noah stood in front of me with his hands buried deep into the pocket of his black hoodie. My hands itched to run through the messy strands of his face but I held back.

"Uh, yeah. I loaded all the boxes up in the truck. Is there anything else you want me to do?"

His gaze took over my chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath I took and I knew he noticed the tears that gathered in the edge of my eyes.

"If you could-."

My phone rang again, interrupting Noah, and I apologized with a sheepish frown. When I saw the unknown number, I excused myself from him and answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Y/L/N?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"This is Chief Reynolds with the Los Angeles fire department."

My heart fell out of my ass and I stumbled out an incoherent sentence, forgetting that Noah was still standing behind me.

"What happened?" I finally managed out.

"We have a Mrs. Y/L/N here at your residence."

I rapidly nodded even though the Chief couldn't see. "That's my mom. Is she alright?"

"Well, it seems as if she tried to cook something on your stove and let the gas burn. A neighbor called in a strong smell of gas. It seems as if she had it burning for a while."

"Oh fuck," I groaned while running a hand through my hair. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, we tested her for any effects of the gas but she seems fine. We opened some windows to air it out. You shouldn't have any issues."

I spoke to him for a few more seconds before thanking him and hanging up. Fucking hell, she tried to cook something and damn near exposed herself to gas. I left her for two hours, how the fuck was I supposed to leave her for five weeks?

"Do you need to leave?"

I jumped, hand over my chest when I suddenly remembered Noah was still standing behind me. For the first time in almost a year of knowing him, I saw concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Uh, a small emergency at home. I have to go take care of it," I said.

Noah nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Did you have a ride set up for Saturday?"

I cursed, almost forgetting that in two days we were leaving for tour. I needed the money but also couldn't bear the idea of leaving my mom alone.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I was going to ride on the crews bus."

"I hope things are alright," he said while motioning to my car in the parking lot.

"Thanks," I grumbled before jogging over to the car, not wanting to leave my mom alone for a second longer.

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— so i pay the price of what i lost ; yes it is right that you can handle anything, but you can’t handle everything all at once

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language, long written chapter

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

Winter break felt like a blur of constant assignments, stress, and messages from your mother. You found yourself buried in work, avoiding the outside world—especially your phone, which you knew was filled only with your mom’s relentless reminders to study harder, do better, and aim higher. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s contacts had been pushed to the bottom of your recent conversations, untouched since that day in the gym.

You haven’t seen Yamaguchi or Tsukishima since that winter class you skipped to watch their game. That day feels like it happened in a different life—before the semester started to suffocate you, before your every waking moment was consumed by endless biochemistry coursework. You don’t have time to think about anything else anymore, not when every day feels like a battle to keep up with the expectations of your professors and the relentless academic pace.

Classes in the second semester are intense, perhaps even more than you expected. One of your courses, Organic Chemistry II, is particularly demanding. The subject matter dives deep into reaction mechanisms, synthesis pathways, and the stereochemistry of complex molecules. There’s also Molecular Biology, where you’re expected to learn and apply the intricate processes of DNA replication, transcription, and translation. Your third major course, Biophysical Chemistry, focuses on the thermodynamics of biological systems—another subject that stretches your mind to its limit.

It’s only the second week of your new semester in biochemistry, but it feels like you’ve been dragging yourself through months. Everything seems heavier this time—every lecture, every lab session, every assignment. The moment you open your textbooks and class notes, you can feel your brain protesting. There’s an exhaustion that hangs in the air, a feeling like you’re constantly one step behind even when you manage to complete your work on time.

Now, standing outside the lecture hall for Organic Chemistry II, you realized nothing much had changed. The same heavy textbooks, the same tight deadlines, the same competition between your classmates as they all tried to one-up each other. The new semester had brought a new intensity. You were still trying to keep up with your classmates—some of them seemed almost unnaturally gifted, answering the professors’ most complex questions with ease, while you constantly second-guessed yourself, even when you knew the answer.

Professor Saito, a man with a greying beard and an air of calm authority, strode into the room with his usual collected demeanor. His reputation preceded him—tough, no-nonsense, and known for pushing his students to think critically. Today was no different. He picked up a piece of chalk and began scribbling a chemical equation across the board.

Without glancing back, he posed his first question to the room. “Can anyone explain the significance of this reaction in the context of anaerobic respiration in yeast?”

The classroom, filled with second-year students, was eerily silent. Your eyes traced the chemical formula on the board—glucose breaking down into ethanol and carbon dioxide. The answer floated on the surface of your mind, but your heart pounded in your chest as self-doubt crept in. You scanned the room, hoping that one of the top students would break the silence and offer the answer instead. But they remained still, unfazed, as if this question was beneath them.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the quiet hanging over you. It was a simple question, one you knew the answer to, but something held you back. You hated this feeling—knowing, yet hesitating, paralyzed by the fear of saying something wrong. The silence stretched on, and finally, despite the knots of anxiety in your stomach, you slowly raised your hand.

Professor Saito turned to face you, his gaze resting on you with a slight lift of his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Your voice wavered as you spoke. “It’s… the fermentation of glucose into ethanol and carbon dioxide,” you said quietly, swallowing back the stammer in your throat. “Yeast uses this anaerobic process to generate energy in the form of ATP when oxygen isn’t available.”

Professor Saito nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. “Correct. And why is this process significant in industrial applications?”

You took a deep breath. “It’s used in brewing to produce alcohol and in baking for the carbon dioxide that helps dough rise.”

He considered your answer for a moment before nodding again. “Yes. Good. Remember, however, that the ATP yield here is significantly lower than in aerobic respiration. That’s the key difference.”

Relief washed over you, and you allowed yourself to relax—just a little. But before you could even savor that small victory, another voice broke the quiet.

“Professor, could you explain the exact mechanism for the stereoselective alkylation of an enolate in asymmetric synthesis?” The voice belonged to Renji, one of the top students in the class. His question was sharp and cutting, a deliberate challenge. “And maybe elaborate on the difference between kinetic and thermodynamic control in that context?”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room, punctuated by a few suppressed giggles. You stiffened in your seat. The question was far beyond the scope of what you’d covered in class, meant to impress—or worse, embarrass—the professor. Renji’s tone dripped with arrogance, and the way he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, told you he already knew the answer.

Professor Saito regarded him for a moment, his gaze steady. He began to respond calmly, “In asymmetric synthesis, the stereoselectivity of the alkylation depends on—”

Before he could finish, another voice interrupted. “What about stereoelectronic effects when using Evans' oxazolidinone in highly hindered substrates?” Yumi, another top-tier student, chimed in with a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. She leaned forward slightly, her question laden with the same smug intent—to derail the lesson, to show off her own knowledge.

The air in the room became stifling. You could feel it—the discomfort rippling through the other students, the growing tension as Renji and Yumi sought to outwit the professor rather than learn from him. They weren’t asking to deepen their understanding. No, they were playing a different game, one of one-upmanship and arrogance.

Your stomach twisted with unease as you watched the scene unfold. Professor Saito, usually unflappable, seemed to falter for just a moment. You caught a glimpse of weariness in his eyes as he straightened up, preparing to answer yet another convoluted question. He had always been patient with his students, no matter how difficult the questions, but there was something in the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly that made your heart ache for him.

You glanced around the room. Some students were fidgeting uncomfortably, others quietly whispering to their neighbors. The whole room had been hijacked by these few who cared more about showing off than learning, and the rest of you were left feeling small, inconsequential. You clenched your fists under the desk, wishing you could say something, do something to stop it, but the words stayed lodged in your throat. What could you say? What could you do?

Professor Saito began explaining the stereoelectronic effects, his voice steady, but you could sense his weariness growing. The air felt oppressive, like the weight of these students’ arrogance had smothered any genuine learning atmosphere. You shifted in your seat, feeling anxiety gnawing at your insides, hating the smug smiles that played on Renji and Yumi’s lips.

Before you could think further, you raised your hand signaling to interrupt the class. Professor Saito caught your motion and stop his explanation. “I’m sorry, Professor, may i speak?” Your voice came out a little shaky but louder than you expected, you can’t stop yourself right now. Every eyes are on you when the professor nodded. You land your gaze to Yumi—her smug faltered as she turned toward your seat. “I don’t see any stereoselective alkylation of enolates in asymmetric synthesis in our syllabus for this entire semester. So, if you’re going to interrupt the class with questions, at least stick to the topic we’re actually supposed to be learning.”

And now you turned to Renji’s seat, his face hardening as the room went deathly quiet. You could feel the eyes of the other students on you, and though your heart pounded in your ears, you pressed on. “And if you’re feeling that generously smart, maybe you should come up there and be the professor yourself. But what do you actually get from trying to make others—let alone the professor—feel small by throwing out questions just to outsmart them?”

Yumi’s smirk vanished, replaced by a look of shock. Renji shifted in his seat, his face hardening, but he remained silent. You could feel the tension swirling in the room, but it wasn’t directed at you anymore—it was directed at the arrogance that had poisoned the air.

Professor Saito stood there for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He cleared his throat, and the room snapped back to attention.

The room goes quiet, tension crackling in the air. You don’t usually speak up like this, but something about the arrogance in the room pushed you past your breaking point. The student sneers at you, but you don’t flinch. You’ve had enough of people trying to make others feel small just to inflate their own egos.

Professor Saito gives you a small nod of appreciation before continuing his lecture, the class quiet now except for the sound of his chalk against the board.

That evening, you’re back at your desk, struggling to finish another assignment. The words blur together on the screen, and despite your best efforts, you keep having to re-read the same paragraph over and over. You’re exhausted. There’s no other word for it. Even though you’ve tried to catch up on sleep, it never feels like enough. And there’s always another deadline looming, another mountain of work to climb.

Your phone buzzes next to you, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably your mom again, asking why you haven’t called or berating you for not keeping up with her expectations. You’ve been avoiding her texts and calls lately because you can’t deal with the added pressure. She doesn’t understand how hard this is, how much you’re trying to juggle. Or maybe she does, and just doesn’t care. Either way, you don’t have the energy to explain yourself to her right now.

By the time you finish the assignment and hit submit, it’s nearly 2 AM. You slump back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. Every muscle in your body aches, and there’s a tightness in your chest that hasn’t gone away for days. You feel like you’re sinking deeper into a hole you can’t climb out of.

The thought of opening your phone again fills you with dread, but you do it anyway, more out of habit than anything else. When you do, you see an email from Professor Saito.

Subject: Checking In

I hope this message finds you well. I noticed that you submitted your most recent assignment late last night. While I am aware of the pressures you and many other students are under, I wanted to reach out personally.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed how diligently you’ve participated in my class. I’ve seen how you’ve quietly answered questions, even when you seemed uncertain of yourself. I also noticed how you stepped in during that difficult class discussion the other day and helped refocus the conversation. You have a sharp mind, and I hope you know that.

That said, I am concerned about you. I can tell that you’re pushing yourself hard, and while I appreciate your effort, I also want to remind you that your well-being comes first. I know what it’s like to feel the weight of academic pressure, and I want to encourage you to take care of yourself, too.

If you ever feel overwhelmed or need to talk, please know that my office door is always open to you. You are a valued member of my class, and I believe in your potential.

Take care of yourself, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.

Warm regards, Professor Saito

As you read the email, you feel a lump form in your throat. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear those words until now. For so long, you’ve felt like you were just going through the motions, never sure if you were really doing anything right. But here, someone was telling you that you mattered—that your efforts weren’t invisible.

You close the email and stare at the screen for a long moment. Then, without thinking, you bury your face in your hands. The tears come quickly, a mix of exhaustion, relief, and gratitude. You hadn’t expected this—this kindness, this small bit of recognition in a sea of doubt.

tagslist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything @snowthatareblack @ilovemymomscooking @nayiiryun @knightofmidnight @kozumesphone @scxrcherr

sorry for posting this late, i’ve been super busy with karate practice all weekend—i’ve got a belt test coming up soon, so the training’s been extra intense. i’m exhausted, and my legs hurt so bad i can barely walk, but gotta stay strong and push through! 😣

[the-boy-meets-evil]

all i want for christmas - xmh (the8)

(where you want minghao for secret santa so you can prove he's not really that hard to buy something for.)

pairing: minghao (the8) x gn!reader genre: friends to lovers | fluff rating: sfw (but i still don't want minors interacting) word count: ~1.8k warnings: none, really. this is just fluff and a secret santa exchange. no pronouns used for reader.

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 14 - secret santa 💕 i'm also counting this as a drabble.

“Are you sure you want to trade for him?” Mingyu asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“For the last time, yes,” you huff out. 

Are you actually sure? No. But, this plan has to work. Every year you and your whole friend group draw names for Secret Santa. This year, you were really hoping to get Minghao. For a lot of reasons you’re not trying to share with Mingyu. Thankfully, he’s terrible at keeping secrets from you and had instantly whined about getting the hardest friend. He’s relieved you want to trade, even if he’s also a little suspicious. Not suspicious enough to hold onto the most difficult person to buy for, though. 

“Your funeral,” he says with a shrug. “Who’d you have again?” 

“Seulgi,” you remind him.

“Oh that’s so easy. She leaves notes about what she wants everywhere,” he says, satisfaction plain on his face. 

“So does Minghao, if you know where to look,” you add, keeping it a little vague.

“If you so say,” he says.

Mingyu’s not suspicious enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Literally. Minghao is famous in your friend group for being difficult to buy presents for. Famous for not even pretending to like a present. You wonder how many presents he’s taken back in exchange for something that he wants more. Which does make the whole thing a little more daunting, especially because you’re not supposed to spend over a certain amount. That’s the whole premise of doing a Secret Santa with your friends. It’s so that you don’t have to go broke buying presents because you have a lot of friends. Of course, you’re all older now than when you started as broke university students. Still, it’s nice to hold onto the tradition. 

Now that you’ve switched, you’re nervous. Everything in your plan got you to the point of switching (and kind of how to pull off the perfect gift within your budget). You haven’t considered what he’ll say or what you’re going to say to him. Or if you’re even going to admit what you went through to make sure you had him in the exchange. You know you should just rip the band-aid off. Easier said than done, though.

The reality is that you want to be the one to give Minghao a present for a lot of reasons. You want to be able to get him something he’ll actually like. To show him that you listen to him and you know him. To show him that he’s not actually that bad to buy for, because you can tell it gets to him sometimes. That he thinks he’s just difficult, which he definitely is, but there’s more to him than that. There’s also the biggest reason you wanted to pull his name. That you have a giant crush on him. One you’re shocked he hasn’t picked up on and just as shocked other friends haven’t seemed to pick up on, either. Well, except for Seulgi. Then again, she never misses a beat. It’s useful that she knows, too, since you’re planning to ask her for help in securing the perfect gift. 

(Seulgi comes through, like the actual best friend in the world, with a killer discount on a beautiful designer scarf. Minghao hasn’t eyed that exact one, but you think you know him well enough to know that it’s still something he’ll like. It fits seamlessly into his style and it’s the kind of thing you can easily see him buying for himself. True to her word and the plan, Seulgi set aside several pieces that were returned because the brand had really weird rules about reselling things that left the store. They take returns because of the goodwill with customers, but never resell the items even close to full price.) 

When it comes time to actually exchange gifts, you’re a little nervous again. Didn’t think it through that you do this as a group, so everyone will see what everyone else got. Including the care put into your present for Minghao and the obvious, at least to you, significance. As if sensing your nerves, Seulgi shoots you a warm smile, then directs you to take a couple breaths. 

“I get to open my present first, right?” Soonyoung calls out. He’s already looking through the presents on the table. 

“You go first every year,” Seungcheol points out. 

“Right, so it’s tradition,” Soonyoung agrees. 

“Or maybe someone else could go…” Seungcheol starts. 

“Got it!” Soonyoung calls. 

“Just let him have it,” Seulgi laughs out.

As it turns out, she had him and got him a silly tiger plush and also a ticket to go to a drive through safari experience where they had tigers. Unsurprisingly, it’s a strong start and Soonyoung is thrilled. Seulgi opens her present next and it carries on just as well. It seems that everyone likes their presents, at least so far. Though, someone makes a joke that Minghao hasn’t gotten his yet. You’re still deep in thought and worry when you finally realize that your friends are trying to get your attention. It seems like it’s your turn to go next. Still somewhat lost in thought, you find your present. It’s easier because there aren’t many left and one of them is the one you bought. 

The second you open your present, it’s all you can think about. It’s a beautifully decorated scrapbook, so carefully put together that it almost makes you want to tear up. You start flipping through the pages and it’s like walking through all your favorite memories with your closest friends. The road trips and the sporting events. Concerts and beach days. Bonfires and drunken parties. A complete catalog of your best memories, without you even having to tell whoever made it. Each page is uniquely decorated without it being overdone. As you’re flipping through each page, you notice that there’s one person in more pictures than anyone else. Minghao. Is it that obvious to whoever made this that you have feelings for him? 

“I hope you like it,” Minghao says and he actually sounds nervous.

You look up at him, surprised. “You did this?” 

“Yeah, I realized after I wrapped it that I forgot to include a card,” he admits. 

“This is honestly the best gift I’ve ever gotten, thank you,” you say sincerely.

Seungcheol breaks the moment with a laugh. “Looks like you’re up next, Hao.”

“Right, yeah,” Minghao says. He clears his throat as he stands up. 

It’s a little hard for you to figure out where to look. You’re so enamored with the present you got from Minghao that you want to keep looking through it and appreciating the little details he put in. You find yourself aimlessly running your fingers over the pages. But, you also want to know what he thinks of your present. The real reaction as he opens it. Which does win out as he sits back down with his present on his lap. He’s careful as he unwraps it, almost like he’s preparing for whatever is inside. Over the years, he’s definitely been a little better about reacting to presents. Maybe he’s worried this will be another present like that. You know watching his reaction was absolutely the right choice when his eyes go wide and his mouth opens a little in shock. His fingers run over the fabric carefully before he reaches for the card. The smile when he reads the card is so genuine that your heart melts into a puddle. Maybe it’s more than a crush.

“I don’t know how you did this and stayed under budget, but thank you,” Minghao says with more emotion than you’re expecting. 

“Hey, yeah, that’s a foul! You can’t go over our budget just to get him something he wants,” Mingyu argues. 

“It wasn’t over budget, I sold the scarf. I have the receipt still,” Seulgi says.

“That’s even worse!” Mingyu argues with a pout.

“You’re just mad that someone finally got Minghao the perfect present,” Seungcheol teases. 

“I hate it here,” Mingyu says.

The conversation turns back to the remaining presents. Nobody really seems to have another comment on the moment that passed between you and Minghao over the presents. Neither of you has ever gotten the other for Secret Santa like this and it’s gone much differently than you expected. Instead of feeling nervous, you’re feeling a little hopeful. At least if your present is anything to go off. Minghao’s never put this much effort into a present. Not that you can remember, at least. Maybe, you’re not trying to get ahead of yourself, but maybe he feels a little something more for you as well. 

You’re a pretty disengaged from the conversation, especially once everyone finishes opening their presents and things turn to what movie to watch. Instead, you head into the kitchen to get someone to drink, missing the way Minghao’s eyes follow your movement. A little surprised when he appears in the kitchen with you.

“Thank you again,” he says quietly. It still makes you jump a bit. 

“Oh!” you gasp. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you liked it. I know it’s kind of simple.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Minghao disagrees. “How did you manage?” 

“I told Seulgi that I had you and roughly what I wanted, so she set aside some returns. Only ones that came back immediately and clearly hadn’t been worn,” you rush out. 

Minghao’s touch on your arm is gentle, instantly calming. “I’m so thankful you got me.” 

“Me too,” you agree. “Well, I didn’t, actually. I traded with Mingyu.” 

“You did?” Minghao asks, seeming surprised but also pleased.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something,” you say.

“I did, too,” he answers softly. “But, I was lucky enough to just draw your name.”

“Your present was amazing. I meant it, it’s one of the best I’ve ever gotten,” you whisper.

“It’s what you deserve. I know I didn’t spend much,” Minghao starts. 

“No, it’s everything. I can’t imagine how much time you must’ve put into this. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done anything so thoughtful for me,” you assure him, eyes soft on his. 

“You deserve only thoughtful things,” he tells you. 

“You, too,” is all you can say.

“Do you think, well, would it be weird if we got dinner sometime?” he asks and you can’t hide the shock. 

“Let’s go, you two!” Seungcheol calls.

“Like a date?” you ask, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“Forget it, it’s weird,” he backtracks. When he starts to leave, you grab his arm.

“Yeah, I’d love to, but only if it’s actually a date,” you tell him. If you thought the smile over his present was big, this is infinitely bigger. 

“How about right now?” he presses.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” you agree. 

“Then, let’s go,” he says, hand held out for you.

And you take it. It’s one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. You didn’t even have to tell him that you’d been thinking of asking him the same thing. The holidays truly can be so magical.

i hope you liked it! please let me know your thoughts or give it a reblog if you enjoyed it 💕

[callsignseagull]

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 7

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Words: 2k

Warnings: fluff, angst, me not knowing how the navy works lmao

A/N: Here’s part seven!! enjoy

feedback is always appreciated <3

series masterlist || masterlist

I love you, daddy.

The words have been repeating in Jake’s head ever since Josie uttered them. They’re what’s been keeping him going while mission training gets more intense. He spends every free moment with you and Josie, and he feels like you’re becoming a real family. He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life. Not his first time flying a fighter jet, not when he graduated from the academy, not when he got to Top Gun the first time. This, being with you and Josie, makes him happy, gives him purpose. He didn’t know if he’d ever have kids. He’s thought about it when his first niece was born, but he didn’t have a partner, didn’t even date, so it seemed out of reach. And he thought maybe it was for the best. Little did he know he was already a father. When his eldest niece was born Josie was already a year old. And he had no idea. 

So now he wants to make up for lost time. And it’s starting to take its toll. He doesn’t get much sleep, but that’s the price he’s willing to pay to spend time with his daughter. And with you. 

He’s still focused at work, but it takes a lot more energy than usual. 

Coming back to Top Gun and finding out about Josie has changed Jake’s life in a way he never expected it to. And it didn’t only change his plans for the future but his priorities, too. Josie’s nightmare and almost kissing you the other night was an eye opener for him. He wants to spend as much time as possible with the two of you. Wants to be a real family. And now he feels like maybe he’s got a chance. That maybe you finally trust him again and that there are still at least some feelings for him left. He’ll do everything to make you his. He’ll wait forever if he needs to. 

He knows that his job will put a strain on things, that he won’t always be there when you need him. And he hates that. If it were up to him he’d never leave you and Josie out of his sight. Okay, that sounds a little creepy, but he doesn’t mean it in an overbearing way. He just doesn’t want to be without you.

He’s certain it won’t be easy for him to get the future he wants, to get the best of both worlds, but he’ll do everything in his power to make it happen. He’s already got the ball rolling on some changes. But he doesn’t know if it’ll work out. 

He’s got a long day of training ahead of him, the mission drawing closer quicker than he would like to, especially because he didn’t know where he was headed when he came back. If he came back.

He shakes his head, that’s no way to think about it. This is the most dangerous mission he’ll ever fly and there’s so much at stake. And he needs to get back to you and Josie. He needs to see Josie grow up. 

“Let’s go, Hangman.” Coyote’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he finally manages to get into his work mindset. He can’t afford to be distracted at work.   

✩̿✪̿✩̿

When Jake checks his phone after a day of training the most difficult maneuver he’s ever had to do, he’s got about thirty missed calls from you. His heart drops. Something must’ve happened. You rarely call him. Let alone thirty times. 

He calls you back immediately but he only reaches your voice mail. He tries again and again and again. 

Nothing.

He’s beyond worried, his thoughts are filled with worst case scenarios as he messily grabs his stuff, doesn’t even change into his regular clothes and bolts out the door. The rest of his squad are eyeing him with confused expressions but he doesn’t even notice them. All he can think about is that he needs to get to you. 

Since you’re still not picking up your phone he decides his best bet is driving to your house. See if you’re home. 

You’re not. 

Your car isn’t in the drive way and when he rings the doorbell no-one opens. All the lights are off and his only option is to wait. He keeps calling but you don’t pick up. He doesn’t know if you’re missing his calls because you don’t notice him calling or if you’re purposely not picking up the phone. 

He’s a mess. 

It’s almost two hours later when your car finally pulls into your driveway.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Turns out that Josie broke her arm when she fell from the monkey bars. She doesn’t have to get surgery but they put a cast on her arm that needs to stay on for six weeks. Luckily, Josie is at that age where having a cast is cool and she wants all her friends to sign it. The whole thing might’ve been more traumatising for you than for her. Especially because of your anger towards Jake. He’s tried calling, but you were too stubborn to pick up. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, show him what it’s like. Is it the most healthy thing to do? Definitely not. But you were a mess.

When you turn onto your street you can see Jake sitting on your porch steps. He’s still in his flight suit and his hair looks like he’s run his hand through it at least a million times. He must’ve sat there for a while. It makes you feel bad for a second but then you remember what you’ve gone through the past couple hours and you’re angry again. 

“I called you about a hundred times!” Jake says as you step out of the car. He’s walking towards you now, his eyes scanning over your body as if he’s looking for injuries.

“Well, so did I.” You open Josie’s door and help her out of the car. When she sees Jake her eyes light up.

“Daddy, look! I’ve got a cast! They made it my favourite colour!” She shows off the green cast that’s covering her forearm. “Will you sign it?”

“Of course, I’ll sign it.” He forces a smile. “What happened?” 

“I fell from the monkey bars on the playground. It hurt a lot but it’s all better now!”

“C’mon, honey let’s go inside.” You gently push against her back. Jake follows you but halts his steps before walking through the door. He looks uncertain.

“Will you stand out there all evening?” Your voice sounds irritated even to your own ears. And you are. There’s so much you wanna say to him right now but you can’t while Josie is around. Jake finally enters your house and closes the front door. 

You spend so much time at the hospital that it’s already past Josie’s bedtime, so that’s what you focus on first. You go through the motions, aware that Jake is always close by, watching as you help Josie brush her teeth and read her a bedtime story.

“Now it’s time for you to sleep, honey.” You put the book on her nightstand and watch as her eyelids get heavier by the second. Seems like the adrenaline is finally wearing off.

“Will you sign my cast now, daddy?” She yawns and even though you’re not looking at him you know there’s a small smile on his face.

“Of course.” Then you hear Jake moving through the room to get a pen from her desk. Josie reaches out her arm and when Jake crouches down next to you. He’s entirely too close, so you get up and take three steps back. 

Once he’s done he caps the pen, gives Josie a kiss on the forehead and tells her good night one more time. Then the two of you leave the room.

You can feel the tension rising as you make your way to the living room. You’re too wired up to sit down so you just stand there in the middle of the room, looking at him.

“I was worried sick!” Jake presses out. “You call me thirty times and then don’t pick up? Are you serious?”

“Well, you weren’t picking up your phone either.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I was at work and I didn’t have my phone with me.” 

You shrug your shoulders. For some reason you wanna be mad at him. You want to channel all your frustrations and nerves and let it out on him. Maybe because you’re mad at yourself for wishing he’d been there with you. Or maybe because he’s the only person here right now. You’re full of emotions that you don’t know how to deal with. 

“And I was at the hospital with your daughter while she was in pain!” You feel tears brimming your eyes. “And you weren’t there! You weren’t there and I wanted you there and I hate it! I hate it, Jake! You came waltzing into our lives out of nowhere and now I need you to be there? It’s unfair! We were fine before you came along.” 

You can see the hurt in his eyes and it makes you want to shove the words back into your mouth. But that’s not how it works.

“You don’t need me, sweetheart. I know that. You’re the strongest person I know. Raising our girl on your own … And as much as I wanna be there for you every second of every day, I can’t.”

He’s speaking with so much honesty, it makes you deflate. He cares so much about Josie, he didn’t answer his phone because he couldn’t not because he didn’t want to. 

“You should’ve heard her scream, Jake. It was horrible.” The tears you’ve been holding in finally roll down your cheeks and within seconds Jake is there, wrapping his arms around you, soothingly rubbing your back. 

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you I know you didn’t have a choice. But I was just—“

“It’s okay. C’mere.” He holds you closer and you let yourself relax against his strong body. It’s been so long since you just let go. So that’s what you do, not caring what he thinks while you’re sobbing, no doubt leaving wet stains on his flight suit.  

“Why can’t you have a regular office job?” You murmur against his chest and Jake chuckles softly.

“But then we would’ve never met.” 

“True.” You let out a sigh. “Still sucks though.” 

It’s quiet for a couple moments while Jake softly sways you from side to side. You’ve never felt so safe. Then he clears his throat.

“I’m leaving for the mission soon.” That makes you look at him. “I can’t tell you anything about it, but … it’s dangerous.” 

You stiffen, “How dangerous?” 

Jake presses his lips together, looking at the ceiling before his eyes find yours again. “The most dangerous I’ve ever been a part of.”

“Jake …” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You know I’m the best.” The shakiness in his voice betrays his words but you choose to ignore it. 

“How much longer until you leave?”

“I can’t really say. But I’ll come over to say goodbye before I leave… I wouldn’t leave without seeing you guys one more time.” There was so much meaning in him saying one more time, but you choose to ignore that as well. “And then when I’m back … I applied for an instructor position at Top Gun. It’s not an office job but I won’t be deployed as much and I’d be close to you guys.”

“What?” This is the first time you’re hearing about him even thinking about choosing a different career path.

“If everything goes to plan I’ll be moving to San Diego soon.” The corners of his mouth tick up.

“But… but you love flying.”

“I love Josie more. And I’ll still be flying, just not for the same reasons. And I’m not going to lie and tell you this is a completely safe position. It’s still dangerous and things happen. But I don’t wanna miss any more than I’ve already missed when it comes to Josie’s life. I wanna be there for all the important milestones.” 

Now you’re crying again but for a whole different reason.

“Jake.” 

“When you told me about her my priorities just shifted. For a really long time flying was the only thing I had. The only thing that gave me purpose. But now that I know about Josie … she’s biggest and most important purpose of all.” 

You really don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything and just hold him closer and rest your head against his shoulder.

___

only a few parts left!!

taglist: @annathesillyfriend​ ✪ @lovebittenbyevans​ ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0​ ✪ @one-sweet-gubler​ ✪ @wooya1224​ ✪ @iammirrorball​ ✪ @lolcaca​ ✪ @caitsymichelle13​ ✪ @soulmates8​ ✪ @soleilgrec​ ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy​ ✪ @winters-queen​ ✪ @i0veless​ ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae​ ✪ @mandyppp​ ✪ @dempy​ ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274​ ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58​ ✪ @hangmanscoming​ ✪ @caidi-paris​ ✪ @linkpk88​ ✪ @djs8891​ ✪ @lnmp89​ ✪ @startrekfangirl2233​ ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill​ ✪ @roostersforevergirl​ ✪ @celestialeviereads​ ✪ @blackwidownat2814​ ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak​ ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp​ ✪ @atarmychick007​ ✪ @dakotakazansky​ ✪ @alana4610​ ✪ @memoriesat30​ ✪ @entertainmentgal8 ✪ @shanimallina87​ ✪ @smoothdogsgirl ✪ @i3k2ts​ ✪ @frenchtoastix​ ✪ @twsssmlmaa​ ✪ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ ✪ @simpxmarvel​ ✪ @harrysgothicbitch​ ✪ @midwestmarvelbabe​ ✪ @lunamoonbby​

[mudisgranapat]

III. Where the sun doesn't reach

Word count: 3,2 k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Content: zombie apocalypse, children, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Taglist: @poohkie90 @gaida-511 @synthe4u @beebeechaos Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Note: Sorry it took so long to update, I'll try to be more consistent. This one was hard to write because there is a lot of information i needed to put out there and i wanted to make sure it made sense. if it doesn't, please let me know so i can explain better on the next chapter. Enjoy :)

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There was something alien about seeing life growing in a rotting world. Her soft baby skin was a contrast to everyone around her, who wore their skins dirty, scarred, and calloused. He hadn’t truly noticed the baby at first. He had seen her, because soldiers like him were trained to see everything: a child, around a year old, with dark hair and dark eyes. 

As the Humvee hit a bumpy road, he noticed how her curly brown hair was secured in place by two pink elastic bands, the locks on the pigtails moving side to side. She held a pink stuffed dolphin with her chubby hands and swung her feet, making the pink socks go back and forth. She wore a pink jumper that seemed a number too big and was covered in drawings of pink unicorns and rainbow clouds. In Simon’s opinion, it was an obscene amount of pink. He didn’t know if he was more astounded by the combination or by the fact that it had been put together in the middle of an apocalypse. 

Her eyes were hazel, and they bore into Simon’s skull with innocence he thought he would never see again. Especially in a vehicle like that, made for war and destruction. They sat on the back of it, on the seats that faced each other, like he used to do when going on missions, and ‘odd’ didn’t even begin to describe seeing Cami there. Cami. It felt weird to know her name when all the other boys didn’t. Like it was their secret to share. As if she could read his mind, Cami giggled, somehow not fazed by his mask. He was used to people cowering in front of him, children hiding behind their mothers and peeking at him from behind their legs. The opposite seemed to apply to the baby in front of him, as she grinned showing her scarce teeth. 

“Stop staring at my baby.” He rolls his eyes, redirecting his stare to her with a new layer of hardness. The woman looked like she was in her early twenties, but she spoke with the authority of someone who had lived a dozen lives. Her nose and cheeks were covered in scarce freckles from the sun exposure, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, with loose strands now matted to her face in dried blood. Unlike Cami, she hadn’t escaped the crash unscathed. There was a large gash on her forehead from when she probably hit her face on the steering wheel, now covered in gaze from the medkit. Her lip was split and her nose bleeding. During the crash, the instrument panel from the car had collapsed, causing a gnarly knee injury. “Stop staring at me”. He didn’t. She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, don’t mind Ghost. He does that sometimes.” Johnny said in a joking tone, but lightly kicked Simon’s foot, secretly telling him to quit it. “I think it’s about time we do some proper introductions around here, don’t you think?” She gives him a small smile of approval, moving Cami in her arms. “My name is John McTavish, but you can call me Johnny or Soap, since the old man behind the wheel is also John. We usually call him by his last name, Price. Or Captain, but I feel like that won’t be exactly your vibe” 

“I’m not old, Johnny.” Price says behind the wheel with a sigh. 

“Sure, Grandpa.” Soap retorts, and Price lets another defeated sigh, focusing back on the road. Y/N laughs, and Cami laughs too, even though she has no idea what she is laughing at. 

“I’m Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz. We still use our callsigns from when we served together.” He explains, poking his tongue out at Cami and making her laugh even more. This time, she even claps, letting her pink dolphin fall to the floor. She immediately frowns. Not even the car crash had been able to separate her from the toy, her little hands crushing it as she cried in the backseat, and now her face was starting to contort like the crying was going to start again. 

Simon reaches out to it at the same time Y/N does, but grabs it first due to his longer arms. “Ghost.” He introduces himself shortly, looking her in the eye. Neither of them breaks eye contact until Cami stretches her hands out towards the toy. 

“Dodo!” she screams, shaking a demanding hand in front of Simon. He’s taken aback by the sound of her voice, not expecting her to be able to talk. He hands her the dolphin and she gives him a big smile. He smiles behind the mask in return, a secret infatuation that he buries under the skull. He notices her gaze on him now, studying his reaction, and he has the urge to say ‘Stop staring at me’.

“Kamila is just learning how to talk”. At the mention of her name, she turns her head to Y/N, and shows her the stuffed animal with excitement. Kami wasn’t the only one to hang onto her personal belongings; Y/N had managed to grab a backpack she had taken with her from the house. “She is a bit shy, but once she gets used to you she can be quite the talker, although most of it is in her own language.” 

“It’s a beautiful name. Suits her well.” Soap says, smiling at them. 

“It’s Arabic, spelled with a K. Means ‘perfect’.” She kisses Kami on her nose. “What about ‘Soap’? What does it mean?”

“Let’s just say I’m pretty good at what I do. Clean with it.” He says with a smug grin on his face. “What about you? Any nicknames?”

“Well, there was a crackhead near my house that used to call me ‘strawberry’, because I liked to wear red lipstick. Until one day I got hit by a bicycle in front of him so he changed it to ‘smoothie’, since ‘I got mushed’.” She says using air quotes. 

Soap and Gaz burst out in laughter and Simon snorts, holding in his laugh out of ego. Price is too focused on the radio with Laswell to listen, probably debriefing her about what happened and the new addition to the group. “Peaceful neighborhood, I see”. Gaz tries to recompose, while the Scot is still doubled over, slapping his own knee. “Whereabouts did you live?”

“At that time, Liverpool, but I moved around a lot. My mother was a Journalist.” Her voice sounded distant at the last part. For most people, it was hard to talk about the past. They had lives that were worth living and never thought that they would have to watch it slip through their fingers. In that sense, being a soldier made things easier. They were always ready to pack their lives into one bag, and most of them had made peace with the thought that they might not come home whenever they stepped foot on the tarmac. Others, like Simon, didn’t have a home to come back to and found solace in the nomad nature of the profession. She coughs in an attempt to clear her voice and continues. “I followed in her footsteps, so that’s how I ended up here. I was investigating a corruption scandal in the Government.” 

“Always chasing a story. Is that how you got in trouble with the Resistance?” Gaz was good at getting information out of people. Like Price, he had a trusting face and a calming voice that quickly tore down people’s walls. 

Although Y/N had been previously reluctant to share information about her past, she knew that she didn’t have a choice now. They had saved her life and jumped into the crossfire to rescue her and Kami. She owed them answers. Taking a deep breath and rearranging Kamila in her arms, she starts talking. “When the first people got infected, I got curious. The story I had been writing had come to a halt after my main source stopped cooperating with the investigation, so I had been looking for a break. The virus seemed unrelated at first, but interesting enough to write a story about. So I started digging and came across some familiar names. The people I had been investigating for corruption had been dislocating funds from the Government for an unsanctioned project on biological weapons.”

The Humvee was quiet, except for the sound of the engine and Y/N’s voice. She looked at Kami again, now fast asleep in her arms. There was a softness in her eyes that Simon yearned for in his darkest thoughts. He dreamed of caring eyes that pulled him out of his nightmares, only to wake up alone, drenched in sweat. During nights like that, he would pour a glass of moonshine and sit on the old kitchen chair in the base. Time would pass as he stared at the glass, each second increasing the burning in his lungs. He ached to scream, to punch, to tackle the thoughts that tormented him and sink a knife in its gut. But he couldn’t, so he would just sit and stare at the alcohol-filled glass, imagining the liquid burning down his throat and numbing the ache in his chest. He would then get up and empty the glass on the sink, because the only thing he could hate more than himself was his father. He relished watching the moonshine go down the drain, a small victory in his demise, a promise that he would never become the man who buries his sorrow with glasses of booze. 

“I found a guy willing to talk to me. His name was Eric Rhodes, a brilliant scientist. He had been working on the project but got fired for asking the wrong questions. He thought that the virus he had been working on before he got sacked was the same one that was turning people into… Well, zombies. I guess that’s the technical term for it. At first, I thought it was just some conspiracy theory, you know? The guy gets angry because he got fired and needs to find someone to blame. But then he showed me solid leads, names, and notes he had been able to keep, detailing what he was doing in the lab.” 

“Did you believe in him?” Price asks from the front, now engaged in the story. Laswell had the same theory, that the apocalypse was a result of a biological weapon gone wrong, but hadn’t been able to prove it. Not that it would change a thing: they were already doomed, and whoever was to blame was probably dead by now.

“I didn’t, in the beginning. But after he showed me the documents… Yeah, I did. He stopped talking to me after that. I figured he got scared that I was going to rat him out. The virus was spiraling out of control by then, so I decided to reach out to him while the phones still worked.” She pauses, looking at Kami again as if to check that she is still safe in her arms. “His younger brother, Killian, picked up the phone. Told me they had sent someone to kill Eric, burn his house down with all the evidence. He said Eric had told him about me and asked for us to meet. He wanted to know more about the reason his brother was killed.”

“Killian Rhodes. That’s the guy who started the Resistance.” Simon points out in a low voice. He knows his tone is suggestive, that she is way deeper into this than they had previously thought. The silence is palpable in the atmosphere by that point. 

“Yes. He did. It wasn’t all bad in the beginning.” Simon scoffs and leans back on his seat. Her voice is more pleading now, trying to resonate with them. “Killian wanted to avenge his brother. I told him about the virus, and how Eric thought it was a biological weapon built by the Government. It was never meant to turn into this, I know it’s not what he wanted.” 

“You’re defending him? He tried to kill you. He sent people out to kill you and your kid!” Soap shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Killian died protecting me and our daughter!” Her eyes were glossy, but she refused to cry. She was determined not to show any weakness. “Don’t you dare try and blame this on him.” Her tone was angry and bitter. It wakes up Kami, and she tries to put her back to sleep, but to no avail. 

“Mommy sad?”

“No, mommy is fine, love. Go back to sleep.” But she doesn’t, alarmed now, looking at her mom with worried eyes. Gaz, Soap, and Simon also look at her, surprised by the revelation that Killian Rhodes is Kamila’s father. But she doesn’t give them time to digest the new information. “We made it to the first quarantine zone together, when things started to get bad. Killian had always been good at convincing people, talking about how the government was dirty and that they were better off on their own. With the rations and the way the soldiers were treating people, it didn’t take long before an insurgence was formed. We took them over and that’s when we started the Resistance.”

We. Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to laugh and say ‘I told you so’ to Johnny, but the disbelief on the Seargent’s face was satisfying enough for him. If they thought they were helping an innocent girl, they were wrong. They were harboring the founder of the most prominent and deadly rebellion created in the apocalypse. Not that they were sophisticated criminals before, but they had caused enough trouble to get their reputation: either you were with them, or against them. And now they seemed to be more keen on that policy than ever. 

Price stops the car, looking at the backseats through the rearview mirror. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Simon recognized that tone, and it meant that whoever it was directed to was in deep shit. 

She huffs. “I never asked for you to take me in. In fact, if I remember correctly, I was dragged here.” She gives Simon a pointed look, that aggravates him even more. 

“Then leave.” Simon stares her down. “But you won’t, will you? You know you don’t stand a chance against them on your own, so start talking.” His voice is low and threatening. He doesn’t look at Kami when he speaks. He knows his voice would falter. 

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, looking at the ceiling, trying to find shelter from the prying eyes that stare at her. “People started coming in from other quarantine zones, escaping totalitarian groups and ill-intended people. Other communities began to rise, but they weren’t as strong as we were. They wanted to weaken the Resistance so they spread word that Killian’s brother, Eric, was the one that created the virus. It drove him crazy. His brother had died trying to find the truth and now people were blaming him, trying to use his brother to taint his name. We were forced to step down and give up everything we had built. There was too much invested in the Resistance, too many people with too much to lose. Leadership changed, and we had to sit back and watch as what we stood for was deprived of its meaning. We just wanted to help people. We thought we could stop what would come next but we were wrong.”

“You killed people before that.” John said in a stern voice. 

“That was different. We didn’t start battles, we were forced into them. You can’t blame us for fighting back. There is no revolution without war.” She shifts Kamila in her arms again. “For fuck’s sake, you were in the army. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you haven’t done worse.” She says the last sentence looking directly at Simon. This time, he looks away. He knows he has done worse, much worse. For some reason, the fact that she would assume that of him hurts. 

“You did more than fight back. We’ve heard about what the Resistance has done.” Simon wants to hurt her back, remind her that no one gets to be innocent their whole life. 

“That was after Killian and I were forced to step down. We didn’t know what was going on. We thought that the foundation that we had built would be strong enough to last after we were gone, but things changed completely”

“Look, lass. We want to believe you. We really do. But you have to be honest with us.” Sometimes Simon wants to grab Johnny by the shoulders and shake him, so he would stop being so trusting, so willing. But it is also the reason why they became friends in the first place. Soap never judged him, as broken as he was. Whether he was Simon or Ghost, Soap would crack jokes and share a pint, and for that he was grateful.

“When we were forced to leave the leadership, Lawrence took over. He was ruthless and thought that the Resistance should be more than a safe harbor for people. Those are the stories you have heard, of civilians killing each other for no reason. We didn’t know how bad it was for the people outside, how Lawrence had been looking for groups and attacking them, forcing them to join the Resistance or killing them. He had no purpose, no direction, he just wanted power and he kept us blind to it all.”

“I’ve heard of Lawrence. He was killed.” Price’s voice still carries a somber tone. 

“I left right after that. He had been talking about how they were finally going to rise to their full potential, about how the Resistance was going to control what was left of the world. He was delusional, talking about how they were going to have enough firepower to kill whoever stood in their way. Killian and I knew we needed to leave by then, that the principles we had stood for were long gone and now the Resistance was just a power-thirsty militia. We only understood how serious things were when the military group arrived. They killed Lawrence and took control of what was left. Killian sacrificed his life so I could run away with Kami.”

“But why are they after you and Kami?” Price pressed further. “Why would a military group want to kill two civilians?”

“Because I’m the only one who knows their identity and their plans. I ran away with documents that could compromise them, photos and names of who operates the Resistance now.” She gestures towards the backpack that she had salvaged from the crash. 

“Why would they take over the Resistance but want to hide their identity? That makes no sense” Simon inquires, still skeptical of the story.

“Because they like to operate in the dark. That’s why they call themselves The Shadow Company.”

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me writing that plot twist: 🤭😝🤓

[lunarw0rks]

Hi!!! Can you please do 141+ Alejandro with a black widow s/o who’s a super bamf 💗

All Bark, All Bite | 141 (+Ale)

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, strong language, established relationship, fem!reader, mil!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I combined this w/ a similar request. they requested that reader is part of an all-female squad called "The Widows" so creds to that anon for a partial part in this request! Not proofread.

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? 𓆩♡𓆪 ask box

SYNOPSIS; if there were a side-by-side of you at work vs. at ease; the difference would be striking. You were with the best of the best, hand-picked to join The Widows five years ago, based solely on your battle smarts and physical durability.

You've retained dialects and languages after spending years doing covert ops around the world, as well as an array of fighting skills. The most significant thing you've accumulated? Your partner.

Dating in the same line of work, paths were bound to cross. Yet, seeing each other was both a blessing and a curse.

Price

When you limped up to the porch, the sight of the lights illuminating the inside made you both cringe and cheer at once. Time was precious when you both were home at the same time; though you were dreading the questions surrounding your appearance. You didn’t have time to wash off and instead went straight home after filling out your after-action reports.

John was in the sunroom with only a dim lamp on—forgetting once again to shut off the rest of the house lights. You weren’t in any mood to scold him, though, nor did you want to. In the least arrogant way possible; you were jaded from keeping the world safe. His gaze ascended from the paperwork resting on his lap, then scanning your striking appearance; in uniform and stained with crimson.

❝It’s not my blood, John.❞ You sighed, a look of both defeat and nonchalance—it was a conversation you two had many times before. This time, it really wasn’t your blood, except for a few measly scrapes and scratches.

He blinked a few times, as stunned as he was the first time he saw you after a daunting mission. ❝Is that supposed to make me feel better, sweetheart? Go shower off.❞ You couldn’t be aggrieved, it’s precisely what you would’ve told him to do. Besides, the last exchange you wanted to have right now was one about work.

John and you did that enough, probably to a fault—being that the two amplest workaholics found each other.

Simon

The work was daunting, sometimes downright depressing considering the things you’ve witnessed, and lived through firsthand. It wasn’t easy to get back out there, put on your bravest face, and work with skilled swiftness. Though your other half had conquered the art of appearing half-hearted—his mind was constantly buzzing with feelings, especially after getting involved with you.

Simon hated your guts, purely for making him fall in love with you. His co-workers either die in front of him, die apart from him, or go missing so long they might as well be dead. He couldn’t handle it, the prospect of getting a sit-rep declaring you had been KIA.

❝What’s on your mind?❞ The weight on the thin barrack mattress shifts as he sits beside you, eyes trained on your failed attempt at masking your gnawing thoughts. God, his observance was irritating at times—how you couldn’t conceal the slightest hitch in your persona.

In truth, it wasn’t any specific memory that was chipping at your psyche. It was… everything all at once. The constant reminder that you had to be a soldier—hardened, snappy, and with little emotion plaguing your every tactical decision. And your decisions? The pressure of choosing the option with the least amount of casualties—never was it a zero.

Unbeknownst to you, you were silently preaching to the choir. ❝It doesn’t matter. Can’t sit here and let feelings stop my day.❞

Simon reached across the cot, cupping each side of your face with a headstrong glare—one somehow sterner than his default frown. ❝With you, love, feelings do matter.❞ He shook you ever so slightly as if he was literally jerking some sense into you. Normally, he would agree and order the softie to keep going.

But you weren’t weak-kneed, nor did you let emotions affect your work.

You were the strongest soldier he knew, second to no one, not even himself. Your ability to feel so openly off the field was something Simon could only voicelessly yearn for. Something he didn’t want you to renounce, as he had years ago. What kind of relationship would it be, if you were both stoic robots trained to kill? It wouldn’t be one at all.

Soap

The two of you separate was enough to make any superior cringe, but together? It had them white-knuckling, all while assured that you two could get the job done clean. He was called Soap for a reason, and you—well, your squad had been picked for a reason. No one was privy to your relationship, and that’s how you both wanted to keep it, purely to not let a conflict of interest affect future ops.

Johnny had to bite the bullet and fight the urge to show you off, gush about you, telling very long and detail-heavy tales about how you two met, and how it was a rocky start. He was starstruck by your skills, and you were adamant about remaining tactical, nothing more.

Clearly, the stubbornness had budged, given the rule-bending involvement you two were in. ❝Ye sure you can handle the boom, lass?❞ Soap smirked, finger hovering over the button of the detonator. He was grasping at straws to rile you up because he knew you were both forced to work with him—and would come home to him that night.

For him, it was a win. For you? It was a persistent thorn in your side.

❝Press the damn button before I hurt you, Soldier.❞ You hissed, covering your ears to shield them from the explosion… or his pestering, it could be a mix of both. Soap grimaced as he signaled the boom, a deafening rumble in the distance, loud and close enough to make the building shake.

Once it passed, you scowled at the sight of his faux-dramatics. ❝It’s ‘soldier’ now, eh? Why not just shoot me, it would hurt less.❞ Soap retorted, taking one more glance at the ash falling in the distance—the result of his own pyro-artfulness.

Oh, how badly you wanted to tussle with him, then apologize to him with a kiss simultaneously. And he knew it too. Your toughness was an attractive quality, one that aroused him, even when you pressed a blade against his throat the first time you were stationed together.

Gaz

Your work with the 141 had gone off and on for some time now. You were glad to interact with Kyle but dreaded every mission together on the off-chance that something went horribly wrong. But that was the cost of your line of work—a sentiment you reminded yourself of nearly every day. The only thing you could do was do your job and find limited time to cherish with him.

It was your lucky day; you had time to visit.

Though you had told Price it was to visit with all of them, you only wanted to see Gaz. The others were great company, sure, but out of the field? They could be… both a complete mess, while being the most tightly-wound group you had worked with.

You made brief conversation with each member, a polite nod or greeting until the small talk became agonizing to get through. When you reached the end of the line, finding Kyle, your expression of professionalism became one of relief. After months of only communicating through comms or phone calls—you were finally face-to-face.

❝Shit, I should get going. Duty calls.❞ Your gaze diverted from Kyle to your phone, a precisely-timed interrupt you needed to tend to right that second. He understood entirely, and it only gave him an excuse to snake you into his bunk that night.

Without realizing it, you intertwined fingers with him for a few seconds, whispering a romantic farewell before parting ways with him. One of his entire Task Force witnessed with a slightly dumbfounded expression on their faces. You, high in the Widows’ chain of command, gone soft and holding hands with Gaz. Frankly, they were slightly intimidated by your skill, the way you always presented yourself in action.

To be flirting with Gaz, it was uncanny. And the headstrong Sergeant Garrick now plagued with an unavoidable flush? The snarky jokes wrote themselves.

Kyle’s eyes widened slightly as you walked away, a slow turn towards his co-workers, interrupting the inevitable comment slipping through their lips. ❝Not a word.❞

Alejandro

Your comms’ static was a constant reminder of the inevitable crisis arriving. Until an update finally came through after several minutes of pausing. Your allies were in need of sniper recon; not just any ally, either—Colonel Vargas was in need of sniper recon. Though you always made your best effort to remain tactical and move with purpose, this one was your purpose—the reason you fight to come home during each deployment.

You radioed back, signaling for the neighboring Widows to follow in your path. If something were to go wrong, Alejandro wouldn’t be left empty-handed, he would have your remaining soldiers to assist. Your squad moved swiftly, some sporting pistols, while the other half had their precision rifles at the ready. The rifle in your hands typically held little weight in your trained arms, but right now it only seemed to be restricting your snappy advancement towards the compound.

Perhaps it was the figurative weight of not getting there in time to relieve them. There was no time to interject personal affairs, however. It wasn’t just Alejandro that needed your assistance—it was his men, the allied soldiers, and most importantly, the innocents caught in the mix of this active warzone.

Your soldiers began to clean the house, allowing execute authority to eliminate any hostile forces. An order that was both the toughest yet quickest one you ever had made, given the circumstances you were plunged into. Behind the thick metal door, there was a blend of bellows in both English and Spanish—the Vaqueros deep in cover when you seized access.

By the time you got close enough, few enemies were left, thankfully. As you poked out of cover from your overwatch position on the skywalk, ready to make your presence known to them, an enemy had come into view.

One that is about to get the upper hand on Alejandro. It was moments like these where your heart stopped, as cliche as it sounded. All the years of training, fighting, hardship, death—it all needed to matter right now, or nothing would again.

You aimed down your sights, watching as the man you loved struggled against the hold. Your watchful eye observed the scuffle until Alejandro had moved out of the danger zone enough for you to get a disabling shot. Once you knew the bullet would be tactical and on the book, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.

The trigger was squeezed, a suppressed pop of the high-caliber bullet, then the limp splat of the man grappling Alejandro. His gaze skipped around the room, an instinctive point in the direction of the shot. You stored the precision rifle, jogging down the steps that led to the catwalk, until you approached the life you had just saved.

He let out an impressed chuckle at the sight of you, his savior. ❝Why am I not surprised, Cariño?❞ His eyes danced from you to the enemy that had him staring death in the face. Though he masked it with humor, his verbal gratitude would never make the cut. In the field and in his heart, you had yet to let him down.

[alwayssassydreamer]

The Boss' Daughter - Morning

Day 23 of Kikitober

Part 2, Part 3

Plot: you're the daughter of a famous underworld boss. After you've been taken by marines your father is willing to pay every price to whoever brings you back.

A/N: i had no idea what i could name the father so you have to come up with something yourself whenever you read f/n sorry. Was supposed to be a one shot but it got so long that i had to split it into 3 parts.

Warnings: swearing, reader is captured, nsfw, mention of bj/anal/p in v, voyeurism? MDNI

Characters: Kid x F!reader x Killer

Your father is a powerful and influential man in the underworld. Dealing with mighty weapons. To you he was a stranger, too absorbed in his business especially after your mother's death.

Honestly you didn't mind. Being your father's daughter had it's advantages. One of them being that no one dared to deny you any wish. The other was that you were able to be a menace without consequences.

Every fight, every mischief, every lie you told, even encounters with marines had absolutely no consequences for you. And you definitely enjoyed it.

The best thing about all this was that you were mostly seen as an innocent little girl depending on your fathers protection. When in truth you were quite the opposite.

You were taught how to fight with knives and guns and also how to strategically defeat your enemies without breaking a sweat or how you called it - manipulating others. The latter part was like your father said "the best way to win a war." and it turned out he was right with that.

Though you did enjoy all of the above the fact that you always had a watchdog near you frustrated you. You wished that just once you could go explore the surrounding without someone following you.

You tried and tried to convince him that there was no need of a bodyguard for you and that he should rather have them around himself instead.

"i can take care of myself and most people won't lay a finger on me anyways, they're too afraid of you" you reasoned. "Fine" was all he snapped probably being too fed up having this conversation.

Finally you were able to follow your dream - sail around the world and discover new islands. Alone. Enjoying your freedom.

The new freedom led to you being a pain in the marines ass. Taking full advantage of your father's power. Which the latter did not appreciate. But you didn't care until your first wanted poster appeared. Why the fuck would anyone put a bounty on your head? The odd thing about it was the only alive part.

You contacted your father with your den den mushi and the first thing he did when he picked up was yell at you and then yell at yousome more. You had no idea what his problem was, your bounty wasn't that high and again who would dare mess with a mighty underworld boss.

When you mentioned this he told you that there was a high chance that the world government was after his head. When you asked him why he bluntly told you that he had information that could lead to their downfall before waving you off to never talk about this again.

He thought it'd be better for you not to know everything. "I want you to come home! Now!" he scolded. For the first time you thought that maybe you should listen to him. You prepared to get a ship and sail home.

But who would have thought that you wouldn't get far - the marines already hot on your tracks.

The morning started just great after escaping some marine officers the day before, you were caught once again by others. Until they were defeated by the kid pirates who were now surrounding you. When did pirates start going after you. You were confused.

And now you stood there watching as the red haired pirate captain used his devilfruit to destroy the ship that belonged to the marines.

Eustass captain Kid and his first mate massacre soldier killer. Two members of the infamous worst generation. Though you've never met them before you were always eager to see the worst generation live in action, having heard many stories about them and seen their respectable bounties. All of them being higher than your own.

You had to admit that both, the massacre soldier and the captain, were impressiv strong with a rather attractive appearance.

But now was not the time to think about good looking men. You had to find a way out. You were glad that they fought the marines off so you didn't have to.

"Who do we have here" Captain kid asked in a low voice stepping closer to you.

"That's y/n, daughter of f/n(father name) the infamous underworld boss" Killer said standing right behind you. An evil grin spread across Kids face.

"Well looks like our lucky day. We only stopped to have some fun at the bar but this is even better"

He put his hand under your chin lifitng your head to make you look up at him. "Your father put up a nice price to whoever brings you back to him" Kid smirked moving his thumb along your jawline.

"How bout you get your filthy hands off me" you snapped looking him deep in the eyes as you pushed his hand away. A low laugh escaped his lips.

"You're a feisty little mouse. I'm gonna enjoy your company"

you started to weight down your options. Should you run? Or should you play along? If you run where will you go? You had no allies here nor a ship to get away.

Looking closely at the pirates you thought it'd be easier to play along. They seemed hotheaded and easy to manipulate. You thought it'd be kinda nice to have them do the fighting for you and you could use a ride home and some entertainment.

"Who said that I'm going to come with you" you teased smiling arrogantly.

"You think I'd let a chance like this slip" Kid nodded at Killer who grabbed your arm from behind you, holding you tight making it impossible to break free.

"Either come with us voluntarily or I'm going to make you" Kid growled his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath on your skin. You laughed. Confused faces looked at you.

"Think that's funny brat" Kid snapped jaw clenching.

"I do think it's funny that you believe you can handle me" you taunted feeling Killers grip tighten. At first you could see anger in Kids' eyes but it was replaced with a devilish smile.

"Don't worry, you're not the first brat that needed some extra attention." Well you didn't expect this answer nor the fact that it would make you blush slightly.

"But first we're going to the bar." Kid commanded making his crew cheer happily. Killer never let go of your arm fearing that the moment he did you'd run.

"You know i would really appreciate it if you'd let go of my arm"

"So you could run" Killer asked.

"No but I'm pretty sure you're leaving a bruise" you hissed but killer didn't care.

"Fine how about holding hands instead" he stopped his walk for a moment, his mask making it hard for you to figure out his expression.

You were sure that you had startled the blonde as he let go of your arm. Kid glancing over to you both. Before anyone could say something you let out a surprised gasp as you suddenly found yourself thrown over killers strong shoulder, cursing. Seems like your attempt to play with the massacre soldier failed.

"You were the one who wanted me to let go of your arm" Killer mocked. this time you didn't need to see his face to know that he had a smug smile on his face.

After a few minutes you reached the bar. Surprised that it's beef open at such an early hour. Once inside you realized that it only opened for the pirates and then saw why they were so eager to get there.. They were greeted by a bunch of beautiful women who immediatly approached them. They were obviously not only visiting because of the drinks.

Killer still refused to put you down. In the meantime most of the other crew members were already entertainig themselves with the women.

You pushed yourself a little off Killers shoulder to see what was going on when you spotted Kid talking to a beautiful young girl who was extremely smitten by the captain. Kid whispered in her ear making her giggle before the two of them walked upstairs. Killer following them.

"I thought you'd buy me a drink" you whined as you entered a room at the very end of the corridor.

"Maybe later. that's if you're going to be a good girl" Killer said finally putting you down.

"A good girl?" you repeated, questioning look on your face.

A low growl behind you made you jump. Kid was standing behind you next to a huge bed while the girl was kneeling on it.

"This young lady will show you how to be a good girl." Kid smiled shit eating grin on his face.

Killer pulled up a chair, placed it in front of the bed and pushed you on it. He grabbed your hands and tied them to the armrests. You started to panic a little. When a fistful of your hair was grabbed making your head tilt backwards.

"Better take a good look and pay attention" Killer hissed in your ear.

You did not want to watch how Kid was fucking this girl. Seriously why didn't they leave you at the bar. There you could at least get drunk. You moved nervously in your chair trying to free yourself but to no avail.

Next thing you saw was the girl taking off her clothes crawling over to Kid who was still standing next to the bed. She unbuckeld his belt and pulled down his pants along with his underwear and started to suck him off. Kid was moaning loudly. Every time you averted your gaze from the scene before you Killer grabbed your face and made you look.

After Kid reached his orgasm the girl was pushed back laying now on her back.

"Ready to join?" Kid asked and you swallowed body tensing. until you realized he wasn’t talking to you. Killer walked to the bed stopping right between you and the bed. he turned to face you before starting to strip down.

you didn't want to look but god was he hot. you could feel a blush on your face while a strong heat rushed through your body. Killer chuckled lowly. before getting on the bed grabbing the girl and yanking her closer to him. he pushed her face into the bed, lifted her hips and took hold of them before pushing his cock in her pussy.

once again you looked away. you could feel a wetness between your legs. fuck. this was not good. you didn't want them to now that this was turning you on. lost in your thoughts you completely forgot about Kid until he was standing next to you.

"Like what you see?" he asked running a finger over your arm. you shivered under his touch. he let out a devious chuckle.

"What's the point of this whole thing" you asked trying to sound as confident as possible, ignoring the sounds Killer and the girl made.

"This is what you get if you behave. if you let me take you back to your father without causing any trouble." Kid said circling around you like you were his prey.

"What makes you think that I'd want this" you blurted out a mix of anger and arousal building up inside you.

Kid stopped right in front of you placed both, his flesh and metal hand, over yours and leaned in. he was a little too close for your liking so you tried to shift away but you were trapped between the chair and his huge figure.

"You wanna tell me that you don't imagine yourself in her place"

"no".

out of nowhere he moved his flesh hand between your legs, fingers caressing your clothed core making you gasp.

"i think you're lying" he mocked in your ear. "Now keep watching"

The girl was a screaming, begging and panting mess when both of them fucked her at the same time. Kid in her ass, Killer in her pussy. even though you had your eyes shut your own arousal was increasing. desperately clenching your legs together. this was way too much for you to watch.

After all 3 of them reached their high they collapsed on the bed. you were glad that this was finally over. the girl took a few deep breaths before propping herself up on her elbows looking at you.

"What about you? Want me to take care of you?" she asked smiling warmly at you.

Both men now looked at you a curious look on their faces. Your body wanted to say yes but her head was quicker and said no.

"You sure?" the girl asked making her way to you. She ran her fingers over your thighs making you squeal. satisfied with your reaction she kept moving higher and higher.

you gave her a nasty look not wanting the pirates to see how desperate you were.

"that's enough" Kid suddelny said as both men put their clothes back on. Killer untied you and once again threw you over his shoulder.

"Let's get back to the ship"

What a great morning you thought sarcastically to yourself.

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War: III

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: blood, descriptions of wounds, an old friend shows up. feelings! attempted fluff. mind the english🐸!

A/N: this GIF is my new fixation and i will not stop posting it in a long time so be advised 🤩 things are hitting the fan next chapter💗as usual thx for reading 🍁🩵

Masterlist✨Masterpost

"𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔?"

Heavy boots, a ragged breathing caused by adrenaline and the sound of his heart thumping inside his ears, those are the things that Ghost can hear as he approaches the white van. Price shouts behind him but he can't make out what he's saying.

The blood... crimson blood that spills from her wounds is frightening. He's a man accustomed to witness horrible things. Seen the worst the world had to offer. Experienced in the flesh what evil can do to a human being. And simply because the woman that he holds in his arms is supposed to be his enemy that didn't mean he wanted to see her bleed out to death. Especially when they learned the truth.

Ghost had a moral code. Things he never wanted to see people go through despite being consequential to their own decisions. She had decided to join the army. She had decided to join the Shadow Company. It was bound to happen. Still it was hard for him.

That very moral code was to not hurt women nor children under any circumstances, and may God —if it even existed— help him when he'd have no other choice.

"Open the fucking door!" He yells, accent becoming more prominent; the door instantly sliding open, readjusting her near dead body in his arms to get them inside. "Gaz, give me everything you have." He commands the Sergeant, who's quick to open his medical pouches as well as the first aid kit they had loaded just in case someone needed it. The eyes of the woman flutter shut and then open slightly again, drifting back and forth between consciousness and the arms of the reaper. Ghost barks again at Gaz, so he helps him undoing the straps of her vest so he can check the wound properly.

"There's another one on her leg, Lt." he points out, moving around him as much as he can with the vehicle moving. With no time to waste he rips the lower part of his shirt, long and wide enough for his Sergeant to work. "Tourniquet , now." Gaz nods, at the harsh and cold commands of his superior. He then turns, lifting her shirt to inspect the wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her stomach, he notices sucking in a sharp breath; part of Ghost wonders who could've been the one who shot her? What if it was him? Taking the disinfectant from the kit he poured a generous amount on her wound. Her face scrunched, lips pouting and a low whine leaves her mouth. "Sorry about that, kid." He muttered, before pressing down on her wound every single gauze he found only to slowly start tainting red. He knew well she couldn't hear him her mind far away from where she physically was.

"We're back." one of the Vaqueros announced, as the van comes to an abrupt stop.

"We need to get her to the helo as soon as possible. She's lost too much blood." Price orders.

The three men get down, military doctors rush to them.

"We'll take it from here." One of them declares, patting Ghost on the shoulder, he nearly growls.

"Let's go. This isn't finished yet."

So Price dragged him in the opposite direction where they were taking her. He didn't know if she'll make it. But that was everything they'd do for her.

-

Stepping out of the room, showered and changed into comfortable sporting clothes you look around for Ghost. The safe house is silent. Deadly silent.

You wonder if he's even here, and you wonder if escaping would be a good idea. But as for now this was everything you had, at least a bed to sleep and a roof above your head. Sighing you walk to the kitchen just to find it as empty as the rest of the rooms.

The chilly air of late November causes your skin to erupt in goosebumps the moment you step outside, the backyard stretches farther away in the distance and as if on cue, the tall broad form of the Lieutenant appears walking through massive pines, wearing nothing but the jacket and his mask.

Ghost gradually stops when his eyes land on you standing still right outside the back door, arms crossed over your chest to protect you from the weather. He remains silent for a long minute before taking another

step closer.

"All set. Come with me." He orders you.

Biting on your lower lip, stopping your mouth from saying something you'll regret.

"Are you always this bossy?" Despite not liking his tone you oblige and begin to follow as he turns on his heels. If your question annoys him he doesn't let it show in fact he ignores you completely. "Where are we going, Ghost?"

Suddenly a wave of fear washes over you, steps faltering, hands shaking ever so slightly. What if this was it? The end of everything. You didn't want to believe Ghost could kill you like you were nothing you just don't do that to someone you've taken care of for the past month. Why bothering? Why tending to your wounds and worrying for your wellbeing, even if he was forced to do it. You wanted to believe that at least he didn't hate you. Not the way he hated your former Commander. You thought something had changed between the two. He had seemed more relaxed around you; like he somehow had lowered his defenses around you.

"Silence." he hushes you in a low mutter. "M'not gonna kill you if that's what you're worried about."

His words are cold and measured, as if he doesn't want to be here at all and the feeling, the knowledge that you're a burden to him makes your heart ache. A tiny pang of sadness that that's all you've ever been. All you could ever hope to be. So you ball your clench your hands, head hanging low when the so familiar lump in your throat becomes unbearable.

Both of you make it to a clearing, birds faintly chirping on the horizon. The sun no longer greets you, a storm announces itself with heavy clouds appearing in the sky above.

And then you're not alone. Another person stands in the middle. Hands clasped behind. Your heart skips a beat.

The only person that cares enough to save you. Blonde hair in a low tight bun.

Kate turns around, eyes going wide when she finally sees you. She's about to say something but words die because you're practically running to her, ignoring Ghost's warnings on being careful.

A smile appears on her face when you finally hug her and tears roll down your cheeks.

"What took you so long?" You sniffle. Kate's arms hold you tighter.

"I came as soon as I could. Forgive me, Vesper."

Shaking your head you try to stop the tears. It's honestly humiliating but she's known you since you joined the military. Kate Laswell was the closest thing you had to a family just like Graves. "I hope Lieutenant Riley has been good to you."

You huff, making her chuckle.

"He's taken care of me. For that I am grateful."

So now you knew more about him.

Riley.

Better than just a callsign. And it suited him.

Ghost stands a few feet away, despite this being a secure area he can't afford himself to relax. He can still hear everything you say to each other.

He can hear you crying on her shoulder and bloody hell if that didn't made him feel all sorts of distressed. It was a rare thing. Something he wouldn't have thought when he first scooped you up back on that forgotten highway.

But he guesses that happens when you spend too much time with someone you were supposed to look after. It didn't help that just last night you had asked him to stay the night in your room. All kinds of wrong.

Although he had refused he could sense what was happening and he needed to stop it. Getting attached wasn't part of the plan, and it would end terribly.

Deep in his thoughts he misses the look you send him.

"He really is something else." You murmur to Kate who keeps you know at arms length. "If it wasn't for you, I'm sure they'd have killed me." A sad smile appears on your lips.

"Let's not think about what happened darling, but rather what's gonna happen, yeah? Things have taken... a turn. No, hear me out." She says, interrupting you with a soft smile. "You're not alone. Never have been." Another quick glance at Ghost confirms the both of you that he's heard you.

"You know I don't like it when you say mysterious things, Kate." She sighs, giving you another hug although this one isn't as long as the first.

"Trust me. That's all I'm asking, and hey..." he levels you with a serious look. "Ghost may seem frightening but he's a good man." A low confession that doesn't reach his ears. Your cheeks turn red and you don't know why, leaving you mortified when she notices.

"Yeah..." you mumble.

"I don't have much more time. There's matters that require my attention but you'll hear from me again sooner than you think."

-

"What's that stance?" He gruffly asks as he stands next to you, eyes sliding up and down your body. His arms are tightly crossed over his broad chest. You turn to look up to him and away from the scope of your sniper rifle, blinking rapidly not understanding the disapproving look in his brown eyes.

"Uh, this is how I shoot Ghost." You answer like it was obvious what you were doing. You notice the way he furrow his brows beneath the balaclava.

"Bloody Christ." He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He comes behind you. "Widen your stance." He kicks one of your foot so it slides along the dirty soil.

Yelping you lose balance for a second before he steadies you with a strong hand to your waist.

"Hey! What was that about?"

Ghost tilts his head eyes narrowing.

"That stance was utter shite. Your legs were not separated enough, you'd get knocked down easily by a waft of air."

"I've been doing it like this forever."

"Well you've been doing it wrong."

"But that's..." squinting your eyes you stare at him, fuming. "My legs are not as long as yours, they're like five damn kilometers long." Ghost snorts. "What's so funny?"

"Shocked you know what a kilometer is." Shaking your head you decide to ignore him and readjust the grip on the rifle. "One of his best soldiers, I heard." He points out. He returns to his spot next to you, trying not to think of how you felt under his touch.

"You've never seen someone like me, Lieutenant Riley."

Ghost freezes, heart skipping a beat at the way you say his name. It's soft and endearing. He watches you closely, you're focused on the target one eye closed and the other fixed on the green bottle.

Breathing slowly and steadily, the exact moment when the sky rumbles you press the trigger. The bullet sound echoes through the lone forest as it hits the target, sending birds flying away from their nests. A wide grin makes its way to your lips, turning to look a Ghost who remains silent merely watching the near-perfect shot, the average size bottle shattered in a thousands pieces.

"Bullseye." you comment in a casual tone. "Your turn."

Offering him the rifle you stare at each other for a long time before he shakes his head, refusing to take it.

"Mine's better." Unfazed by his refusal you wait as he goes to the black duffel bag that he previously placed on an old wooden table. He takes out his preferred weapon. Your was... lethal, but his own, the sheer size and way it was customized for him left you speechless. You even doubted you'd be able to hold it still. "And just so you know." coming back to where he was, Ghost readies himself but not before taking off his leather jacket. Only left with his black hoodie he offers you the jacket, eyes serious. Hesitating for a second before grabbing it and putting it on, it smells like him. It's soft and warm around your body. "We're going out tomorrow."

His body prepares to take the recoil of the gun. Yet another perfect shot is made that day; body barely moving, barely flinching when he fires. You hold your breath at the sound of shattering glass and then everything goes silent. Ghost turns to look you in the face, the way his clothes hang around your body swallowing you whole. A sight he finds himself liking too much for his own bloody good.

"Taking me out on a date I see." His lips twitch although you can't see it. "Where to?" You ask rolling your eyes.

Laying down the weapon he motions you to follow him back inside, he'd clean up afterwards.

"Your first mission. Laswell wants you back asap." The air gets stuck in your throat. "Don't look at me like that. We could use a good soldier. And don't worry too much. I'm coming with."

Teaming up with Ghost was the last thing you thought would happen in your lifetime, even if you had before needlessly to say not directly. For all you knew, they considered you a hostile for your connections with the Shadow Company. But your commander was off the equation. Gone forever.

With a final glance to your way he starts to cook dinner for two so you join him.

Your new life starts now.

-

"When does this end, Laswell?" He asks her, it's not that he doesn't want to be around the girl. That is exactly why he's desperate to put an end to this, enjoying her company wasn't a part of the plan.

She breathes the cool air, and tries to calm him.

"Don't tell me you've grown to care about her, Lieutenant."

Ghost doesn't answer but the CIA agent notices the way his shoulders tense.

Part 4

[salty-croissants]

bullfrog x reader (any gender) , unofficial marriage. Where both of them want to made things official but considering the situation with them and Eden, reader “proposes” to bullfrog in the sweetest way ever.

(sorry if this ask sounds too all over the place I got too giddy typing this out💞)

Thank you for the request ! 

This is a really wholesome prompt , I enjoyed writing it :D 

Also don’t worry about it , your request was just fine ! 👍

I hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Now that you and Bullfrog have been together for quite some time , there is a desire from both of you to give your relationship more of a deeper meaning … especially since you don’t realistically know how much time you have left given how dangerous your goal to take down Eden is .

However , since you’re constantly hiding and on the run there is no way to have any kinds of official ceremonies , so yeah … it’s really not an easy situation to be in .

Bullfrog feels very guilty about the fact that he can’t properly marry the person he loves the most because of his wanted status , and during the days in which he feels at his lowest he’s often going to bring it up …

< y/n , I just want you to have a good life … one where you don’t have to worry about getting hurt because of me . 

I can’t ask you to put everything at stake just to - > 

< Bullfrog , my love … I want to .

I want to be with you and fight by your side : no matter what the future has in store for us , I just know that we can face it together . > 

Your words never fail to bring some comfort to the assassin , even though they can’t magically erase his worries : maybe you’re right … maybe you will figure everything out as long as you stay together , who knows ? 

Deep down though , you’re just as anxious as he is : you would do anything to be able to marry Bullfrog and create an even stronger bond between you both , but how could you do that with Eden constantly threatening your lives ? 

After lots of thinking and scrapping one idea after another , you finally come up with a plan to propose to your beloved frog in a way that will definitely surprise him in the best way possible … it is slightly risky , but it’s a small price to pay to make that dream you and Bullfrog have become a reality . 

There is a special place that you two go to whenever you want to spend some time alone : a lake , located  far away from the city surrounded by a small forest and with a pretty gazebo … it’s been forgotten about by pretty much everyone except for you and Bullfrog , which makes it a perfect corner to hide away from the rest of the world when things get a bit too tough .

It’s a great candidate for what you have in mind , so you begin working on making it even more magical to have it ready for the time you’ll propose to Bullfrog , and since that’s quite a long task you end up spending months on your project … something that your boyfriend became quite curious about . 

< Hey , darling ? I noticed you’ve been heading off quite often these days … tout va bien ? > 

< Oh - yeah yeah , it’s all good ! 

I may or may not be working on a little … surprise , but I can’t spoil it just yet ~ > 

< Heh , d'accord … just be careful when you’re outside , okay ? >

< I’ll be careful sweetie , don’t worry . > 

… and after all that hard work , everything is ready for the big day : 

you ask Bullfrog to follow you somewhere , and he immediately understands that this sudden request has something to do with that secret thing you told him about days ago .

< Oh ? Am I going to see what surprise you have in store for me ? 

I won’t lie , je suis curieux ! > 

< Mhm , yeah it’s finally ready … I’m not really sure , but something tells me that you won’t be expecting what it is ~ > 

When he finally gets to witness what you did to your hidden spot by the lake , he just …

He’s completely and utterly in awe :

the place has been thoughtfully decorated with roses , his favorite flower , which outline the path that leads to the gazebo …

< y/n … ! 

You … you’ve made all of this for me … ? >

< Yeah ! 

I wish I could’ve shown this to you sooner , but it takes time for roses to grow … I came here every day to take care of them and make sure that everything was okay .

Do you … like it ? > 

< Like it ? Mon beau , this is incredible ! 

I can’t believe you went through so much just to do this for me … thank you , thank you so much ! > 

You can’t help but smile in front of his adorable reaction , and the moment he begins peppering your face with sweet kisses to underline just how happy you’ve made him your happiness only grows …

… but you know that’s not all . 

< Uh , actually … there’s another reason why I’ve been working on this .

That’s … heh , that’s the real surprise tonight . 

It’s something that I couldn’t tell you just anywhere … something that I’ve been wanting to say for a long time . > 

You can feel Bullfrog’s golden eyes staring at you as you slowly get on your knees , your heart pounding in your chest as you prepare yourself to finally confess your true feelings for the frog you’ve grown to love so much over the years …

< y/n … ? > 

Bullfrog had a feeling that something special was going to happen that night … but now he is starting to realize what it is .

< Bullfrog , my one and only love … I can’t express enough just what a blessing having you in my life has been until now : 

you’ve always been there for me through the highs and the lows , showing me kindness and understanding even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it … 

You’re just … you’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me , and I really do mean it . > 

You take a second to catch your breath , your eyes never leaving his …

< I know that time is running out , with Eden one step behind us , ready to end us the second we lower our guard … this isn’t really a situation most people would consider ideal to ask you something like this , but while I don’t know what will become of us I just know that …

All I want to do is spend every single moment with you , the person that brings me hope even when I can’t bring myself to see the light . > 

Here it comes … the moment you’ve both been waiting for …

< So , Bullfrog … 

Will you marry me ? > 

You immediately feel his arms around you the second you finish your sentence , and judging by his little sniffs you can tell that the assassin was really , really touched by what you said … 

< Oh y/n , mon amour … of course I will … 

I’ve been wanting to do this for so long , I was just … scared , scared to put you in danger , scared to lose you … > 

You definitely get a bit emotional too , his hands caressing your cheeks and wiping away your tears of joy …

< You won’t lose me , I promise .

I love you so much , Bullfrog … heh , words aren’t even enough to express how much you mean to me . > 

He smiles at you softly , and before you know it your faces get closer and closer , until your lips touch .

< Mm … je t'aime aussi , y/n … and I will love you always . > 

Hearing him whisper those words among the kisses makes your heart skip a beat , and as your night ends with a much needed intimate moment of passion you feel like this night marks a new beginning for the two of you …

No one would be able to break your bond , not Eden , not anyone else .