#ghost files x y/n | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jayybugg · 9 months ago

Text

nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #jayybugg fics

3K notes · View notes

sheep-from-rad · 23 days ago

Text

Batfam x Neglected! Ghost! Reader

Note: This is just an idea right now but I will turn this into a series. Currently I have two series in my head, maybe three if I will try and pursue that fake dating series with Jason Todd and Idol reader. I suck at writing angst so if this turns to a series, it will be a really short one.

Warnings: MCD, no use of y/n. I use (name) instead, angst

Masterlist

The neglect on Reader was unintentional. Bruce loves them, the family loves them, they check on them every now and then, spend time, hang out, etc. Reader was that one normal kid that flew under the radar because of that Bruce and the family never had to worry about them. Just checking on them once in a while is already good enough to quell whatever fear they have. However, one day, the reader just disappears.

There were no clues, no struggles, no bodies to be found. The family keeps trying to find reader but at the end the case was closed and became one of those unsolved files at the back of the GCPD archives

The Wayne manor is not haunted. Sure they have encountered metahumans and heroes (Deadman for example) with power that deals with the spiritual realm but there are no hauntings in the manor, not even scurrying rats.

The hauntings started when Bruce homed an artifact from Zatanna. He wasn’t supposed to home the artifact but there was a mix up with belongings during one night of crime fighting and he accidentally took the artifact home

Weird things started happening in the mansion: flickering lights, floating orbs. Sometimes they are also faces and disembodied voices, you know, standard haunting stuff

At first they thought it was just pranks between brothers like they were trying to scare each other as competition and they had the electrical units in the mansion checked. Each family member started pointing fingers at each other until Bruce remembered the artifact and he immediately called Zatanna to take it home

Problem solved, right? Well, not really because the hauntings continued. There were voices whispering at the once quiet halls, shuffling but there was no person present, even Titus and Alfred the cat are now more alert and they always seem to be watching something.

Seeing no other explanations, Batfam called in help from other heroes to solve the problem. During the ritual though, a familiar person came out.. Well, familiar used to be a human

“(Name)...is that you?” “...who?”

Ghost! Reader is a ghost that can’t move on because they have a business left to do. However, in some sick twist of fate, Ghost! Reader doesn’t also remember anything. They don’t know their name, why they are in the mansion in the first place, why they gravitate towards the family. In their head, they just randomly woke up in the mansion and they are a spirit

In other words, I just want to make a fanfic where Batfam is like ‘I want you to stay for a longer time but at the same time I know I had to help you gain your memories back and move on because if we don’t and then your soul will disappear forever’.

700 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts.

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles.

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head.

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest.

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts.

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!”

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly.

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you.

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back.

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod.

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes.

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even.

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet.

He stands like a statue.

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.”

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.”

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John.

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.”

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals.

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.”

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material.

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk.

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively.

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind.

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down.

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again.

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window.

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.”

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs.

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away.

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker.

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech.

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows.

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head.

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air.

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.”

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk.

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows.

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder.

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!”

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip.

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?”

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed.

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat.

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing.

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed.

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently.

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips.

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.”

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should.

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear.

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece.

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.”

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another.

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want.

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything.

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed.

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava.

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.”

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.”

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight.

What in the hell was going on?

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible.

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was.

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too.

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively.

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed.

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.”

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly.

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt.

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment.

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.”

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment.

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften.

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?”

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.”

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.”

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out.

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt.

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back.

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire.

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm.

A secluded home. Nothing around.

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death.

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you.

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside.

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

8K notes · View notes

owlcomics101 · 8 months ago

Text

”Zoomies.” Task force 141 x Cheetah hybrid!user

Warning: SFW (I am a minor), fluff, cussing/swearing, cat shenanigans

You were a cheetah hybrid. You had the cheetah ears, tail, fangs, and feet paws. You were a great asset to the task force for your speed and agility accept, there was one problem; You get the ‘zoomies’. If you have an off day or a mission that didn’t involve a full on chase. All that built up energy needed to be released at some point. You were sitting in Price’s office, helping him out with some reports when your legs started to bounce. Your fingers tap against the table anxiously as you held one of the files in your hands and tried to focus on reading it. Price looked away from his computer screen-noticing your fidgeting.

“You alright there Y/N?” He asked with a skeptical brow, to which you tried to play it off with a head nod before going back to your paper. Price cocked his head to the side seeing your tail thrashing back and forth violently and smacking against your chair. He couldn’t help but slightly smirk in amusement.

“You’re fidgeting, love.” He points out. You let out a huff looking away from him.

“No-……So what? I’m just a bit finicky right now….” You grumble, griping the paper tightly until your knuckles turned white. Price couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Look, if we get this done I’ll take you outside. How does that sound?” He tried offering a compromise, trying to have something to motivate you to work. Your ears couldn’t help but perk up at the offer.

“Really?” You asked with a low purr rumbling in your throat“Really, mate.” Price replied. Amused by your low purr that you hadn’t even noticed occur. Your ears rested flat against your head as you went right to work, determined to finish early before it was lights out for everyone. Price let out a small sigh of relief. Finally getting your ‘zoomies’ under control. That was until there was a large thud in the hallway. Price immediately got up from his desk and walked over to the door and opened it to see what the racket was all about.

“What the bloody hell is going on out here!?” Price shouts, only to be met with Soap being chased by Ghost down the hall. Gaz on the floor who seemed to have been caught by surprised and trampled by the two, but Gaz was just too fed up with them to get up anymore.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK JOHHNY-RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CUT YOUR BLOODY TONGUE OFF!” Ghost shouts. Your ears perk up at this as you look over to see Ghost tackling Soap to the ground and attempting to choke Soap out.

“Y-You c-an’t escape the t-truth L.T!” Soap said between choked breaths. Price storming over and pulling Ghost off of Soap.

“Would you muppets cut the shitte out!? Y/N are trying to get some fucking work done and you two are just sitting here acting like childr-“

“Uhh…..guys?” Gaz interrupts Price slowly standing to his feet.

“What!?” Price snaps looking back at Gaz before his eyes widen. All four of them see you staring back at them with dilated pupils and teeth bared, your shoulders slightly shifting as if your getting ready to pounce.

“Oh shit….” Soap muttered

“Fucking hell-“ Ghost was cut off by you bolting out of Price’s office and sprinting towards them. Soap struggled to get up as they all panicked trying to get out of the way but just kept bumping into each other like a pair of idiots.

“Y/N no-Please just take a moment to breathe-“ Price tried to deescalate the situation but you immediately tackled him to the ground. Knocking the air straight out of him as he wheezed. You looked down at Price before looking back up to see Soap running ahead.

“Soap stop running!-Your gonna give Y/N the wrong idea-“ Ghost tried to get Soap to stop but you used Ghost as a boost and jumped onto Ghost’s shoulders and jump off to tackle Soap.

Cut to the team lying in makeshift beds in the infirmary, all of them covered in head to toe with bruises and scratches from you. You were given catnip to ‘calm down’. They all stared at you playing with a toy mouse. All of them still out of breath and wheezing from the chase. Ghost and Soap will think twice before arguing with each other again.

#captain john price #cod #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #task force x reader #task force 141

572 notes · View notes

shojizbae · 9 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Spencer Reid x reader

It was no secret to the team that you had a sweet tooth. Anytime you walked past an ice cream shop, your eyes lit up with unbridled joy. After a hard case, you always came into the bullpen with a box of sweets. Donuts if you solved a case under five days, Hush Puppies if there was a fallen family, or maybe some Snickerdoodles if there was arson. They were always the same pink bakery boxes with a cellophane window.

Today was no different.

"Good morning!" you signed songed as you skipped into the bullpen and too the right to the kitchen.

"What treats have you cooked up today mama?" Derek rubs his hands as he closes in on the kitchenette

"Oooh, sweets!" Emily smiles and skips over to the counter

"They're macarons."

"Ugh, those nasty almond cookies." JJ giggles as she snoops around the box

"No those are macaroons." I correct and hold a raspberry-pink macron at her. She bites it playfully out of my hand and laughs with me. She wipes the extra creme out of the corner of her lip and thanks me.

"Woah those are delicious." she goes back to her office.

"What diabetes are you giving us today." Hotch tosses a file on the counter as he walks by.

"Pistachio, raspberry, or lemon?" I smack Emily's greedy hand away as he goes back for a fourth and fifth.

"Pistachio." He leans back to look in the box "Those look professional."

"That's what happens when you have an existential crisis and take a baking course while completing your doctorate and feel like no man would ever want to marry a woman with more degrees than 'wifely skills'." You rattle mindlessly

"Well, that was our daily depressing moment of (Y/n)!" Derek chides like a sports announcer.

"Where's Reid?"

"An that's our daily 'first Spencer question' being the tally!" Emily holds a ghost microphone up.

"C'mon,"I put my hands on the counter and leans my hips forward, "I'm not as obsessed as you think I am."

"Oh, just only a little." Emily placates. The two return to their desks to grind through the many stacks of folders. I picked up the box and reorganized the disheveled cookies. I sauntered over to his hunched back. Dr. Reid, my work husband, was mangled over his desk scratching down details of a past case on a legal pad. I sit on the right side of his corner-shaped desk.

"Good Morning Spencer," I chide. He jumps slightly with the high timbre of my voice.

"Uh good morning Agent (L/n)," He clears his throat a few times.

"I made macrons," I held up the box "Would you like one? I made some with lemon, pistachio, and raspberry. Take your pick." I brandish the box once again.

"That's alright I haven't had any real breakfast yet."

"op how about some fake breakfast?" I pick up a light yellow circle and shake it twice in my hand.

"No that's really ok," but before he can protest I force half the cookie past his lips and all that he can mutter out is a disgruntled, mouth-filled groan.

"Did that taste real to you?" He sassily holds up a finger as he chews and swallows.

"That was rude." He states but takes the second half of the treat from my hand and finishes it off. A bit of the filling slings to his lips and I slide my thumb over it

"You've got a little something-" My speech is caught when his brown eyes meet mine. He looks nice below me. His eyelashes are thick but his eye bags drown out his cool amber eyes.

"Sorry," I clear my throat and lean back on the desk. "Would you like some more?"

"Yeah, can I have the pistachio one?" He rolls around on his chair. He takes a bite of the cream-filled delectable. "Woah you have a real knack for this. It's like all the ingredients want to be together. It just takes you to make things right." He gives me that dorky smile and I lose all sense of restraint. I dive in and hold his chin while I kiss him. I pull back with the fear that I stepped out of bounds.

"Come here." He tentatively holds my jaw and his kiss is much nicer than mine. He releases me and I scan between each of his eyes. "You had a little something."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #baking

807 notes · View notes

oatmealwrites · 11 days ago

Text

NSFW Holiday Hoes: [Frat JJK AU] Megumi x Reader

Holiday Traditions!

Vet Student! Frat Member! Megumi x F!Reader

Megumi's always been called the total scrooge of Christmas despite never having a stable family to celebrate the holidays with. Though this year he's hoping to make some good memories with you... even if you do drag him to go ice skating despite his protests.

note: reader and Megumi ARE IN COLLEGE. I will NOT write ANY nsfw jjk fics w the students unless they are aged up to their 20s.

Tags: porn with plot, friends to lovers, down bad Megumi, Yuji and Nobara cockblock, sweet toothache fluff at first, mentions of arousal & masturbation, megumi calls reader 'angel', oral [f receiving], female anatomy, p in v, protection used!, condom, missionary, legs on shoulders, aftercare, established relationship at end, MDNI, 18+

Holiday Hoes Masterlist

not totally proofread -> may edit later

Word count: 9.9k (im cooking again, maybe)

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

The fluff of a certain white-haired dog sticks to your shirt as you read out the answers from the mock exam back to Yuji and Nobara who look more sullen with each question you reveal. Snacks and soft drinks litter the kitchen of the apartment and both of Megumi’s dogs circle the table like sharks waiting for stray scraps.

Yuji places a firm ‘X’ on the last answer and throws his hands up in exasperation, “This is insane! Surely you’re reading the answer key wrong!”

You look down at the paper before turning to the man on your right, handing Megumi the mock exam answer sheet and now carefully peeling tufts of fur from your shirt. Nobara compares her sheet with Yuji, silently cursing as she notices their tied score for 4/25.

“Nope, she did it right,” Megumi places the sheet of paper across from his two friends, “You two just failed. Again.”

A pity giggle escapes your lips and Megumi looks over in your direction, the ghost of a blush on his cheeks before he returns a solemn face to the pair.

“Argh! This is impossible.”

“Really! The prof has to curve it!” “No one in the class is doing well either.”

“I heard people will file complaints for his lack of teaching.”

Nobara and Yuji go back and forth spouting excuses for their poor scores, blaming everything and everyone but themselves for a lack of preparation.

“Enough,” Megumi pushes back from the table and scratches the head of the large black dog at his feet before collecting the stray cans that had accumulated, “If you two fail this exam you’re going to be sitting for retakes.”

The air is deflated from the two, and they immediately sink onto the table in worry and self-pity while you watch Megumi step on the pedal of the recycling bin and dump the aluminum inside. His hair is still messy from bed and his clothes are loungewear of university sweatpants and an oversized band sweatshirt from a concert Yuji and Nobara had dragged him to last semester.

“Ah it won’t be so bad! How many days do you have until the final?” You stand up and collect empty wrappers, silently passing them to Megumi in an effort to assist in the clean up.

Nobara taps her finger to her chin, “Hmmm I think it mentioned it in the syllabus ... .Friday maybe?”

You stop short, “Three days!? And you just now began studying?”

Megumi sighs and watches Yuji sheepishly play with the white dog’s fur, hiding behind the clouds of hair that fly up from the action, “I’m not surprised.”

You wince and lift the answer key back up again, “Well I’m not much help considering our different majors, but I’ll keep reviewing the concepts with you until you have a better understanding.”

Yuji and Nobara shoot up and raise their hands in gratitude.

“Thank you!”

“So kind!!”

“I’ll do any favor you want.”

“Just say the words-”

“–Hey,” Megumi points to the answer sheet with one long finger, his eyes narrowing at both of them, “Don’t take advantage of Y/N’s kindness. She’s willing to help you out but that doesn’t mean you can slack off the entire day and not take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously!” Yuji shoots back, his eyes wide with passion and determination, “The resit exam is the same evening as the holiday frat function!”

“We can’t miss it!”

Megumi nearly deflates from the response and resorts to picking up the TV remote and flipping through the channels in the connected living room, uninterested in any other argument that they have to offer. You turn back to Yuji and Nobara who are actively planning their evening plan for the function, the exam completely forgotten.

“Do you guys have a party for everything?”

Yuji snaps back and grins wide, “Yea isn’t it great? I heard Nanamin is making cookies for this one!”

Nobara ‘oooos’ and begins recalling the best cookies her childhood friend had brought her from a trip to Tokyo while you sit at the table and reconsider your choices in life. Megumi slides the remote onto the kitchen counter and looks at the TV before standing next to you and breaking the commotion.

“If you two are going to be unfocused at least make this an honest break. Let Y/N and I also rest in the meantime.”

You look up to him with a slight smile as if to say ‘thanks’ and turn back to Yuji who is already standing from the table and stretching. Nobara follows suit, opening her phone and scrolling a few times before checking the time.

“Hey Yuji– let’s go to the convenience store. I’m hungry.”

“Huhhh? Didn’t you eat earlier?”

Nobara shoots him a glare and Yuji raises his hands up in defeat, not wanting an argument to break out before the clock has even hit noon. You take this chance to stand up and stretch as well, a slight grumble emitting from your stomach.

“Why don’t we go by that new cafe that just opened up? I think it’s only a few blocks down the road and I’ve been dying to try it.”

Yuji and Nobara exchange a glance between each other before turning to Megumi who holds their stare. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes hold enough to show a small indication to something only known between the three of them.

It’s not unfamiliar, the three of them are much closer to each other considering their shared time in high school, though the feeling is still as isolating as ever. You look between each of them, wondering what the inside reference could possibly be before Yuji speaks up and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “Ahh that cafe? Maybe some other time Y/N… we’re just getting snacks for now.”

You force your lips into a tight grin and nod once, trying your best to not let the feeling of disappointment be heard in your voice, “Oh ok. Pick me up a Red Bull and some chips?”

Nobara smiles once and the two shuffle on their winter jackets before making a promise ‘it’ll only be 30 minutes’ and heading out of the apartment door. Megumi retreats back into the living and sits on the sofa while you take a moment to admire the coziness of the atmosphere. Yuji was the one who insisted their shared apartment needed to be decorated for the holidays and Nobara had offered to assist in setting up. Colorful winter lights are hanging along the border of the ceiling, small stockings that Jin had mailed Yuji hang under the TV using command hooks and push pins, and a semi-alive tree sits in the corner with every branch holding an ornament.

You walk up to the couch and sit on the other side of Megumi, shuffling around to look for a fallen throw blanket to cover your legs with. The dogs move to lay in their respective beds, enjoying the sunlight that comes pouring into from the windows for their midafternoon nap.

“Are you cold? You can have a pair of my sweatpants if you need.”

You shuffle and pull the blanket over your leggings, the edge of your oversized JJK frat t-shirt from a function you assisted in running reaching your mid-thigh, “It’s alright, but I might need to take you up on a sweatshirt later though.”

Megumi smiles gently at you before peeling his eyes off yours and back to the TV which was now playing a cheesy Hallmark flic. The main love interests are currently holiday gift shopping for their mutual friend together, though it’s painfully obvious the male lead is beyond jealous. The cliche of it all is enough to make you roll your eyes, but before you can give a coy remark you catch Megumi’s stare at the screen.

His face is the same it usually is, attentive but uninterested, yet despite that he makes no move to change the channel or shut the TV off. Dark, nearly navy blue eyes, stare between the two characters almost longingly, as if he was watching something he could never have.

Though all other indicators of his body language show otherwise, feet planted on the ground as if he were to stand up at any moment and fingers twitching like he may reach for the remote again.

“You don’t like this movie?”

“Hmm–”, He turns and looks over at you for a moment, slightly pink from catching him off guard, before turning back to the TV. “Oh, more like I find it… unrealistic? Maybe that’s the word...”

“Oh yea I agree. I mean who goes Christmas shopping with their crush for another guy? So cheesy.”

Megumi furrows his brows and shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving the movie couple who are now arguing but show nothing but desire on their faces, “Sorry, maybe it wasn’t the best word. I guess unrelatable fits it better.”

You don’t say anything instead of a slight ‘hmm’ for him to continue.

Megumi sighs and shrugs his shoulders, motioning to the array of holiday decor scattered across the apartment but stopping short when his hand nearly reaches your direction, “I just don’t have the same association you guys do with this time of year. Holiday parties with friends and family, decorating trees with tacky music in the background, going on da-”

He cuts himself off and stares at the screen for an extra moment before turning to you earnestly, “Yuji always calls me a scrooge but… I just don’t see the point. It’s not like I grew up experiencing it.”

Fuck. Great, just great. Try to make small talk and accidentally bring up family trauma. Another reminder to never go into the psychology or therapy majors.

“Oh, yea I guess that’s fair,” you snuggle into the blanket further and try your hardest to ignore the pouty form of his lips and the way his hair kisses the apples of his cheeks every time he moves his head. “Are you going to the frat function at least?”

“Huh?” Megumi opens his mouth in awe and raises an eyebrow, “No way.”

“Really? You’re seriously not going?”

“Well..” he rubs the back of his neck annoyed, a slight twitch in his eyebrow, “Satoru is my big… I have no doubt he’ll try to drag me there anyways.”

You giggle and the large white-haired dog stands up from its bed with a long stretch and quick shake before placing its head in your lap and waiting for attention.

“Could be fun~”

“Maybe..” Megumi mumbles as he watches your fingers run through the hair of his beloved pet, soft coos and kisses leaving your lips as you look at the dog with admiration. The same longing look creeps onto his face as he watches you, an almost pained expression as he listens to the soft praises he so desperately wants to hear be directed at him instead of the canine in front of you.

“I guess I just don’t see why this time of year has to be any different than any other season..”

You shrug, still petting the dog and scratching behind its ears, “I mean besides the vibes… it is colder. So better for staying close and warm?”

Megumi pauses and stares at you with a slight blush before the implication of your words sinks in and you raise your hands in protest, “Not like that but I mean… It is cuffing season… which is unrelated! Hahah… when is Yuji back? It’s been 30 minutes right?”

Your words are fumbled and rushed together while Megumi blinks slowly and gently grins, a warm glow on his cheeks, “Well, what do you like to do this time of year then?”

You bring your hands down and rest them back on the fur of the dog, though your attention is still focused on Megumi, “Hmmm, ice skating?”

“Ice skating? Sounds menial.”

“What? It’s super hard at first but also really fun!”

“It's just rollerblading on ice… how is that holiday themed anyways?”

You pause and cross your arms, “Geez, you were the one who asked for my opinion..”

Megumi pauses for a moment and turns back to the TV for a split second, looking at the way the couple is now sharing a passionate kiss having revealed their true affection for one another.

“Let’s go.”

Megumi turns his attention back to you in slight shock, “What?”

“Let’s go ice skating. I’ll show you it can be fun.”

“I already know it won’t be. We can save the money for admission by agreeing to that now.”

You roll your eyes and nearly give up on the idea, your heart slightly retracting at the borderline rejection and go to kiss the dog another light air-kiss. Megumi watches and sucks in a breath, “I mean.. I guess we can give it a try.”

“Really?” Your eyes shoot open and your hand leaves the head of the dog to the armrest of the couch to support your body as you pivot to face him fully, “I’ll show you how fun it can be. I bet all of us will have a great time!”

Megumi sinks back into his chair slightly, taking short glimpses at the TV couple with an uneasy expression now written on his face.

“All of us?”

“... I mean.. I thought you would want to invite Yuji and Nobra.”

He takes the corner of his bottom lip between his canines and bites for a second, the white-haired dog now meandering over to him for attention and placing its head in his lap. Megumi pets it absentmindedly, lost in thought before turning to you, “I’ve already done decorating with Nobara and watched a million ‘classic’ movies with Yuji… if it’s alright I’d like to just do this with you.. And see why you like it so much.”

OH MY G-. stay calm. This is cool. This is totally chill and totally platonic. Right? right.

“Yea, I’d like that.”

Megumi smiles earnestly and an invisible weight can almost be seen lifting off his shoulders at your response. He nods once and turns back to the movie, your bodies still positioned close to each other and only separated by the thin fuzzy throw blanket. Despite the sunlight pouring in from the windows, the array winter lights reflect a warm rainbow of colors on his hair and the chill of the winter air makes you snuggle into the fabric deeper. Before he can open his mouth again there’s a shuffle in front of the apartment door and Yuji swings it open with Nobara following him closely.

“Alright guys! Got the goods!”

Yuji kicks off his sneakers next to the shoe rack and shimmies out of his jacket while Nobara empties the contents of the plastic bag onto the kitchen table. Megumi sighs and stands up, waiting for you and folds the throw blanket once you rise from the couch. With a slight yawn you open the plastic folder on the table and take out the second mock-exam for the final before passing it to Nobara and Yuji.

Yuji lifts his pencil and stares at this paper with determination, “This time– we’ll pass it!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday comes faster than you expected, having been so busy assisting Yuji and Nobara with their exam review and running around various shopping malls to finish up last minute holiday shopping that the text message from Megumi indicating he could pick you up at 2pm nearly causes cardiac arrest.

He follows through on his promise, picks you up from your apartment promptly at 2pm, and raises an eyebrow when you suggest playing holiday music during the drive to ‘set the mood’.

“Nonsense… Christmas..? Are you sure this is classic holiday music?”

“Yep! Listen to it every year.”

Megumi shrugs as you two make small talk about campus events, future frat functions, and winter break plans; enjoying the company of each other and a slight burn on your cheeks from how easy everything seemed with him. After only 20 minutes he pulls the car into the parking lot of the ice rink and gives you one last look of ‘are we really doing this?’ before sliding out of the car and opening your door.

It’s busy but not overcrowded, the two of you only waiting about 5 minutes to pay admission, which Megumi insists on paying for you, and grabbing a pair of rental skates. The two of you walk to the edge of the rink and admire the ice for a moment; Megumi walks on the skates with perfect balance and grace making you wonder if he’ll be skating circles around you in no time.

You take to the ice first, sliding on it a few times before planting both skates and moving a few arm’s lengths away from the entrance and turning to watch Megumi. He stares at the ice and grips the edge of the wall, mirroring how you had felt the ice before pushing off with both feet towards the center.

You watch in awe at first at the way he glides further down the ice, before he lifts a leg to push off and immediately crashes down onto the rink. The ice pushes his body so he slides into the wall with a ‘thud’ and it takes all of your personal resolve to not immediately lean over and cackle.

“Oh my– pfft- Are you? Heheh Are you ok?”

“People find this fun?”

You stand next to Megumi and offer a hand, which he wastes no time in taking, and pull him to his feet so he can balance against the wall.

“It’s fun to me.”

“Yea, probably funny watching me fall.”

The cold air nips at your cheeks and nose, painting them a pale pink while you dust off some of the ice from his jacket; the moment is so wholesome you can’t even think about anything else besides the man in front of you and his lack of balance.

“Come on~ try again ok?”

Megumi sighs but listens regardless, pushing off the wall and immediately falling back down, scowling when a small child easily glides past him without any help at all. The cycle repeats a few times, and by the 4th time he falls, the confidence and patience in the activity is nearly drained.

“Ok, how about this?” You drag him up again, as you’ve been doing the whole time, but this time you don’t let go of his arm. “It seems like you prefer holding onto the wall… so why don’t you just hold on to me?”

“Huh?”

You skate outwards and drag his body off the wall, watching the way his face goes from flinching to fascination when he doesn’t immediately topple over. An arm wrapped around his bicep, as he always been this fit?, you gently guide the man down the ice. Megumi doesn’t miss the way your eyes are looking everywhere but him and the intense blush on your face that is surely mirroring his own; he swallows thickly and leans into your touch slightly, trying to memorize the way it feels to have you wrapped around his arm as if your bodies were made to fit together.

“See? Not too bad right?”

Megumi looks down at you and grins, though holds his sarcastic tone for the bit, “Mmmm I guess it could be worse..”

You gently nudge him and laugh while he lets out a few chuckles and matches moving his legs at the same interval as your own. A fast learner, you both manage to do an entire lap around the rink without falling over, though a few wobbles on a particularly beat up patch of ice causes his grip on you to intensify.

“You’re a natural.”

“Only able to do this because you’re here with me.”

Looking up at Megumi it would be impossible to miss the way he’s staring at you, admiration and honesty on his face while his gaze swaps between your eyes and your lips. Excitement coursing through you now, your head subconsciously leans in when his hand dips from your shoulder to waist and pulls you closer into his body.

About to shut your eyes, your body jerks when the same small child from earlier glides right past Megumi, but close enough to make him flinch and stumble. In slow motion, he topples to the ground and drags you along with him, hitting the ice with a combined ‘thud’ as you land side by side and still wrapped into each other.

“I… I’m so sorry! Are you hurt-”

Tears break from your eyes and laughter leaves your lips loudly without any care, the entire situation being too funny and cliche to elicit any other kind of reaction from you. Megumi chokes on his words and watches you with his eyes wide and lips parted; any resentment towards the annoying kid for ruining the moment instantly dissipates as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter.

“You’re ok?”

“Hmm?” You wipe a tear and sit up on the ice, Megumi's arms still wrapped around you as they were earlier to break to your fall, “Yea I’m fine. This is just part of learning and it’s hilarious.”

His face is bright red and before he can lean in again, in an attempt to re-do the one thing he’s been aching to do for months now, a whistle blows signaling the end of the open session. Looking up at the time you wonder how 2 hours could fly by so fast before standing up and pulling your companion to his feet right after.

“What do you usually do after ice skating?”

You glide to a halt and step off the ice and onto the mats on the floor, offering Megumi a hand when he follows suit, “Hot cocoa? We can make some and watch a movie?”

The man at your close side, closer than usual, slides out his phone and checks the time, “That sounds good. Yuji and Nobara are still on campus for a while.”

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

Your lips hover above the rim of the mug, blowing steam away from the beverage before taking a sip and sighing at the familiar flavor. Another cheesy holiday romance movie plays in the living room while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch Megumi pour himself a hot chocolate. Silently you pass him the toppings—whipped cream, marshmallows, and chocolate syrup—while he raises an eyebrow at you and mumbles about ‘getting a stomach ache’ before adding them into his mug.

“So… how was ice skating? 1 through 10 ranking.”

Megumi winces at the sweet flavor of the beverage and leans his weight into the counter next to you, so close that the scent of his laundry detergent fills your senses.

“Well I did fall a lot..but,” he looks off with a slight blush and coughs slightly. “I guess it’s not so bad given the company.. Maybe a 6?”

“I’ll take a 6. You know the more you do it the better you get? We can go again next weekend if you're free.”

Megumi watches as you sip on your hot cooca, eyes lingering on the way your face lights up at the same flavor he can’t seem to digest without getting a toothache; he takes another sip regardless, wanting to experience it the same way you certainly were. You don’t pay any attention until the feeling of a paper napkin is wiping your cheeks at the whipped cream that had rubbed off against your face with your last sip.

Smiling up at Megumi and aching to slow your increased heart rate, you take the napkin and wipe off any remnant while he continues staring at you; lips part and close again as if he were constantly trying to start a sentence before backpedaling and remaining silent. This particular holiday movie in the background shows two friends attempting to make a gingerbread house, though their touches against each other are anything other than platonic.

Megumi watches it for a moment before inhaling slowly and resolving himself to finish what he keeps trying to start, “I want to do that again. Go ice skating with you again. But…”

A deep breath escapes his lips and you internally prepare for rejection.

It’s fine… just happened to misread the situation. If he doesn’t want anything more… it’s just something to accept and move on… even if it hurts like a bitch.

“I have to come clean about this-” he places his mug on the counter and looks intently at you, “I accepted the offer as if it were something friendly… like two friends just hanging out,” you wince but he continues, “But in all honesty I wanted it to be different. For us to be different.”

He pushes off the counter and moves forward to face you head on, “I’m sorry about my intentions… and lack of clarity for them but..” he pushes a chunk of his hair back in frustration at the way he keeps getting caught in his words and the strands fall right back into the same place, “I just can’t sit here with you drinking hot cocoa, watching movies, going ice skating and feeling you hold onto me and pretend to feel something platonic when the only thing I want is for us to be anything but that.”

Huh? HUH?

Megumi stands in front of you, waiting for anything to leave your lips at his words, and cringes at himself for the lack of clarity in the way he worded everything. The black-haired dog nudges into his leg waiting for a treat or some attention, but he stands motionless waiting for your response.

“I think I understand…and I feel the same. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly wish ice skating was a date.”

“It could be.”

You look up at Megumi who watches you with eyes full of a different kind of longing than they hold during the movie; his eyes watch you carefully as if at any moment you could back pedal and crush his vulnerable heart.

“What do you mean?”

“Well..” he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter next to his, “we can mark this one down as our first?”

His voice is gentle and sweet, his eyes searching yours for reciprocation when you resolve to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. There’s a slight sigh through his nose at the feeling, soft lips move against yours, and your hands tangle in his messy dark hair. You both break away for a moment, taking in the realness of the situation before connecting at the mouth once more and pulling each other in closer to solidify the mutual decision.

Tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss further, his lips move in sync against yours while his hands rest politely on your back. A whimper escapes his mouth when your hands leave from the mess of his hair and reach around to grab his knuckles and push down to rest his palms on your hips. The sound of his earlier disposition melts into a moan when he’s given permission to sink his fingertips into the flesh of your hips and waist, relishing in the moment he’s been dreaming of.

His hands massage the flesh and occasionally dip down just a liiittleee lower to grab at the upper curve of your ass; your lips break and reconnect with more force. With a slight tug on his hair and knead of your ass, his tongue pokes out to break a testing swipe across your bottom lip. Instantly you part open your mouth just a bit wider to feel the hot muscle of his tongue push against your own, teeth occasionally clacking from the awkward angle before you both find momentum.

Megumi hums into the motion, addicted to running his tongue against yours, savoring the sweet flavor of the hot chocolate.

“I don’t mind that much…” Megumi mumbles, breaking from the kiss for a short moment before reconnecting his lips and taking a firm squeeze of your flesh in his hand, “the taste of that sugary drink” kiss “isn’t bad when I’m tasting it off you..”

Knees nearly weak at the comment and a blush intense across your face, you drag his face into yours with more pressure, trying to hide the embarrassment from his admission. He chuckles and pushes you into the counter further, chasing your lips before a firm sensation pushes into your pelvis and Megumi backs up awkwardly.

Awkwardly pivoting and nearly tripping on the fluffy black dog that was sitting behind his feet, Megumi catches his balance and looks off to the side and brings his hands up in apology.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I hope… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable..”

You struggle to follow until your eyes trace past the worry on his lips and slight tremble of his finger tips before sinking further to the obvious erection straining against the fabric of his left upper thigh. He shifts his weight uncomfortably and shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, pushing the fabric up to avoid the obvious bulge that grows with the heightened sexual tension.

You feel the slick of your own arousal seep into the cotton fabric of your panties and you clench achingly around nothing. Megumi pants deeply but refuses to make eye contact, silently wondering if he had pushed things too far and broken a boundary by his body’s reaction.

Your mouth feels so dry and your throat is growing tight from the carnal desire building. “N-no… you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all..”

Megumi breaks his gaze from the TV screen and looks back at you, hair disbelieved more than usual and pupils blown wide as he listens to your response. Shit he’s powerless against that stare, well against all of you in truth. Anything you want he’d do, every word he’d listen to; that same hypnotic spell you placed him under the first time Yuji had introduced the both of you.

“Y-yea? It’s ok?”

You nod and drag him back into you, hovering your lips. Surely you could just keep kissing and ignore right? How hard could that be? Haha… we’ll just ignore it…

You reconnect your lips and his hands make no hesitation to rest on your hips again while your hands tangle in his hair before tugging the material of his sweatshirt closer to you. It’s as if he’s drunk, all the plans he had on wooing you are thrown out the window as soon as his skin touches yours.

The plan, the original plan, he had was to impress you at ice skating and maybe even hold your hand during it. That failed, so he resorted to your proposal of hot chocolate and a movie, an opportunity to ask you out, but this time as something more. Even then he couldn’t muster up the courage until you offered to go ice skating again.

You groan against the muscle of his tongue while his hips grind against your pelvis, the friction his body craved finally getting a taste.

No. Megumi knows he has to make a move here; tired of the way he usually sits back and lets life do what it wants with him. It takes Yuji and Nobara dragging him out of the house to actually doing something, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let the one girl he’s actually liked kiss him without knowing exactly what he’s been thinking and feeling all this time.

Walking his dogs together, grabbing lunch on campus, fuck even Satoru teasing him countless times at functions for acting like a needy virgin when he stared helplessly at you; begging for an once of attention as if he were a dog.

Megumi pushes into you further, his hand going south to grab your ass and kneed the flesh before his lips break yours and his mouth sucks hard and fat spots onto the side of your neck.

“Fuck.. Megumi—“

His tongue swipes the skin before he sinks his teeth in hungrily, mind going fuzzy from desire and arousal. Every time his name leaves your lips, his teeth sink in just a little bit harder and his cock twitches painfully from within his jeans.

You’re nearly squished between his erection and the corner of the counter, in an effort to breathe you take a step back but Megumi immediately follows suit, mumbling into your neck “Haaa.. don’t run… please angel…”

He grabs your hips steady and reconnects your lips, continuously grinding against you, making no effort to hide the way his body was begging for more. Further crushed between the force of his pelvis and the cool counter, you take a hand down from his hair and place it flat against his chest, pushing back.

Megumi allows himself to be swayed back, momentarily worrying if you would call it off here before you tug on the hem of his sweatshirt. “We can… go upstairs?” You turn to the counter and laugh dryly, “It might give us some more room?”

A shiver runs down his spine and Megumi exhales shakily at the thought while his cheeks puff with every breath. “That’s alright?”

Immediately he thinks of his room, is it messy? Did he pick his clothes up off the floor? Would you notice a very obvious box of tissues and lube on his night stand?

Before he can continue internally worrying about the state of his bedroom, you take him by the hand and nod, mirroring the same face drunken with desire, “yea… I want to.”

Megumi’s brain nearly short circuits at the admission and his body moves towards his bedroom, dragging you behind him, Ok.. this is happening… act casual.

His palms halts on the door knob for a moment, silently wondering when the last time he shaved was, if his deodorant was still working, and– “Oh..”

As soon as he opens the door, both dogs nudge past your legs and get comfortable on his bed and floor, looking up at him as they would every evening routine. Boner still uncomfortable in his jeans with his hands now on your waist while your panties are sopping wet, you both exchange uncomfortable glances.

“Alright.. Sorry..”

Megumi shuffles over and picks up the white-haired dog from his bed while you corral the other out of the door; only stopping once both are shooed back into the living room. Megumi sighs and clicks the door shut before turning back to you; instead of an awkward small talk over the fact his dogs are cockblocks, he resolves to grab your waist with one hand, cradling your neck in the other, and pulling you into a kiss.

Your brain returns to its dizzy and fuzzy state, crawling backwards onto the plush mattress of his bed when Megumi guides you to it, his lips never leaving yours. Fingers leaving the dip of your hips, his hands gently push your back flat while he remains standing between your legs and dips his head down into your neck.

Cool fingers play with the hem of your sweater and admire the warmth of the skin of your navel before playing with the elastic of your leggings. His kisses are lighter than the bruising ones from earlier but each movement of his lips leaves goosebumps on your skin.

“Can I…” he swallows and stands upright, pinching his fingers between the elastic of your leggings, “take these off?”

Heart pounding in your chest and mind fuzzy with desire, you nod once and watch the way he gently tugs the fabric down and motions for you to raise your hips; pulling them past the curve of your thighs and down your ankles before throwing them haphazardly behind him.

Your breath stops as his movements halt, embarrassment burning on your face as he stares at the dark blue cotton that’s stained an even darker color from the amount of slick saturating the fabric. “Oh wow.. Angel..”

The new pet name barely registers in your head before a finger glides up and down the fold of your pussy, occasionally pushing against the wet patch to see how much more the fabric could sop up before it leaked onto his finger. You shiver and whimper with each stroke of his finger, flexing your hips when his other hand moves to rub circles around your clit through your panties.

“Aaaa… M-Megumi..”

Your head is thrown back when he finally hooks his fingers along the waistband and tugs the underwear down to meet your leggings on his bedroom floor. He splays your thighs open with a strong grip on your legs and stares for a moment once more before leaning down to place open mouth kisses along the flesh. One particularly fresh bruise on the side of your thigh gets a few extra kisses, as if an apology from Megumi for pulling you to the ice and causing the small injury.

Impatient hands tangle in his hair as you attempt to tug him to where you need him the most, “Please.. Megumi.. Need you…”

And who was he to resist you? In the same hypnotic trance, he kneels against the edge of his bed and groans slightly at the pressure against his cock before licking a long stripe up your pussy. Nails scraping his scalp and head leaning into the plush blanket on his bed, Megumi wastes no time licking several more long stripes.

It’s the girl he’s been dreaming about nonstop with her thighs spread wide for him, and Megumi finally snaps. All the months of hesitation come rushing back into his mind, remembering every time he was too awkward to tell you directly how he felt, and it flips a switch in him. No longer testing the water, he delves his tongue into the entrance of your pussy and wraps his arms around the underside of your thighs to keep you still.

“Oh my-.. Nnnghh”

His nose occasionally bumps your clit and the reaction leaving your lips makes him only more feral, increasing the sloppiness of his tongue moving in and out your cunt and creating a pool of saliva and wetness staining his chin and the bed below.

The noise is disgustingly lewd, sopping french kisses to your pussy before his tongue rubs against your clit and an index finger slowly stretches you open. You throw your head back in pleasure and Megumi looks up to watch the furrow of your eyebrows before diving back in; his hips humping pathetically against the mattress, erection growing painfully hard.

“Fuck!”

A second finger stretches you open so nicely while his teeth pinch and nip at your puffy and swollen clit. Megumi’s lips continue focusing on you intently, determined to make you finish at least once on his mouth. He’s been dreaming of this moment for so long, and was not about to let it end without making you feel as good as he’s been planning to. All the nights of shoving his hand down his boxers, wishing, needing it to be yours, was nothing compared to the sounds that left your lips and pussy.

“Right.. Ahhh.. right there…”

Digging your nails into his hair and pulling slightly, your back arches when his fingers graze that one spot along your vaginal wall. The sensation has your toes curling and twitching as they rest on his shoulders and he wears your thighs like earmuffs.

“Right here?” Megumi looks up at you, eyes half shut in drunken desire and a mess of fluids dripping down his chin to the bob of his Adam’s apple, before flicking his fingers upright from inside you, “Here, angel?”

A partial whimper, partial gasp is all he needs to hear before his fingers curl to bully the rough patch and his lips dip to rub his tongue against your clit with as much force and speed he could give. Hips twitching and raising to meet his action, a familiar coil builds in your abdomen and you begin to clench pathetically against his fingers.

“Shit.. just got so much wetter f’me..”

Increasing the speed of his fingers to a bruising pace to rut against your g-spot, you throw your head back and convulse slightly at the amount of pleasure that washes over you as your orgasm ripples through your body.

“Yea.. just like that angel.”

Megumi continues thrusting his fingers, though slower, to gently fuck out the rest of your orgasm and then lift his hand to his mouth to suck your cum off of them. You wearily blink at him and sway your head from side to side, the weight of your release leaving your limbs like jelly.

With a slight ‘pop’ of his fingers, Megumi rises once and softly rubs circles into the flesh of your thighs with eyes staring intently at you in stark contrast. Almost as if watching prey, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, “You ok there?”

Sitting on your elbows and catching your breath, you nod once and drink in the sight of him drunk on desire and his lips still glistening from the essence of your arousal. Leaning down he connects his lips to yours, letting his tongue play against yours and provide the taste of your own orgasm with a small hum.

Breaking the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you before it lazily snaps, your eyes break contact from his and notice the way his erection was pushing painfully against the denim of his jeans.

You lick your lips at the sight, silently wondering what his pretty cock might look like, “Want me to help you out there?”

Nearly buckling at your words, Megumi shakily exhales and shakes his head before leaning back and tugging off his sweatshirt and under t-shirt in one pull. Toned and lean abs carve his flesh and a dark happy trail begins just below his navel before sinking past the hem of his jeans. The sight is enough for another gush to seep from your pussy and cause your nipples to erect against the fabric of your bra.

“No angel.. But I will definitely take you up on that later.. ‘Cause I think–” he unbuttons his jeans and lets the material fall before kicking them off his legs onto the floor without care, “I might cum the moment I feel your tongue on me.”

You sigh at the sight of his erection straining against his thin cotton boxer briefs, a patch of pre cum staining the gray material even darker. Megumi brings his fingers to the hem of your sweater before pulling it up and above you, eyes lingering on the swell of your tits. Even prettier than he imagined, he dips down to plant open mouth kisses between the valley and wrapping his hands behind your back in an attempt to get the clasp.

After a few failures, you bend your hands behind yourself to release the metal hooks and toss the bra to the corner of his room; Megumi doesn’t bother complaining, now relieved to finally see the tits he’s jerked off to, in person.

Immediately, his lips wrap around your left nipple while his hand lifts to knead the fatty flesh of the other breast. Gentle teeth nip at the hardened bud before sucking a few deep purple hickies around the swell and lower collarbone.

His lips leave a trail of fire, and your hands tug at the roots of his hair when he plants an extra kiss on one breast before swapping to the next.

“Wouldn’t want this one to feel left out.”

You scoff lightly and arch at the sensation of the wet muscle gliding along the sensitive flesh, and the roughness of his hand massaging the smooth skin of your other tit. A few more bruises are sucked onto your chest before Megumi lifts back up and guides you further up the bed to make room for him to climb up and join you.

“Oh wait–” Megumi stands on his knees on the bed and looks around his room, “condom.”

The anticipation of getting a condom and getting railed by the guy you’ve been crushing on, and the guy who’s very appearance causes a gush in your panties, elicits a shiver of excitement. Sighing slightly, he lifts himself off the bed, “I’ll be right back.”

His words are meaningless, as if you were going to leave anyways, and he opens his bedroom door a crack to slip out. Sets of paws against the wooden floorboards can be heard as Megumi shoos his pets away in an attempt to run down the hall to Yuji’s bedroom and dig through his drawers for a rubber.

You take a brief moment to admire his room while he’s away, the tidiness of it all isn’t surprising, but the lack of wall decor and personal memorabilia is. A few posters of bands, notably Weezer, hang on his walls alongside a few photos and awards for his achievements in the veterinary field, but other than that, the room is bare. The color palette is a blue-gray and the only plushies in the entire room are toys for his dogs; a feeling of almost sadness emits from the intense minimalistic aspects of it all. As if he didn’t have anything to fill the walls with, rather than him choosing to leave it completely bare.

“Ah.. shit–” Megumi slips back into the room and struggles to keep his dogs out, “I’ll take you for a walk after..”

After…

The feeling subsides and the anticipation courses through your veins again as Megumi successfully coerces the canines to retreat back to the living room. He shuts the door in success.

“Got it.”

A half smirk that nearly looks out of character is planted on his face while he wastes no time in rushing back up to the bed and positioning himself comfortably over you. Leaning down for another kiss, his erection grinds against your navel, still covered by the thin fabric, but with enough force some of the pre cum smudges onto your flesh.

He sighs at the friction and sits up to shimmy off his boxer briefs and kick them to the floor without care. The happy trail that starts at his navel extends down to the base of his cock into a neat bush of pubic hair; he wasn’t regularly shaving, but still kept things tidy.

Longer than average and slightly thicker than any of your exes, the sight of his dick made the walls of your cunt clench pathetically around nothing. Balls heavy and aching, Megumi wraps his hand around the shaft to give a few pumps before splitting open the foil package and sliding the rubber down his cock.

It takes a few extra tugs before he’s certain it's snug enough, and he nudges your thighs apart with his knees and leans back down into your neck.

“You ready angel?”

“Y-yea.”

You instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders and sink your nails lightly into the flesh of his back as you feel him slowly slide inch by inch inside. The stretch is an erotic burn that, despite the sting, only makes you even hornier for it all.

An uneven breath escapes his lips by the time he bottoms out, taking a moment for you to adjust and Megumi to reel his brain back in to avoid prematurely cumming in only a matter of seconds. You twitch your hips at the feeling of wanting more; his deft hands reach for one of the pillows behind you, and slides it under your hips to make the angle easier to move.

Megumi does a few test strokes before finding a steady rhythm and snapping his hips into yours with a small ‘thawp’ of his balls hitting your ass with every pump.

“Oh shit angel…hnngh.. Better than I ever i-imagined.”

You whine deliciously into his ear and sink a few crescent shapes into his back from the sensation; twitching every time the tuft of pubic hair grinds perfectly against your puffy clit. The sensation is mind numbing and Megumi begins lazily biting at flesh on your neck, pussy drunk from the sensation and devoid of any rationale.

Even with a condom he can feel the way your cunt clenches around him, as if your pussy was molding to the shape of his dick with each thrust. He can’t even imagine hitting it raw, resolving that if you ever let him do that, he might just have to put a ring on your pretty finger.

Over the combined moans and whimpers, the bed frame smacks against the wall in a steady ‘thud, thud, thud’ and the wooden frame creaks from the motion.

“Fuck… Megumi…”

“Yea.. you got it Angel… just haaa.. Keep those pretty hips steady f’me.”

“Megumi! Exam’s over!”

Nearly falling forward and crushing you, Megumi stops all motions while the two of you look at each other in total terror. Despite the cockblock of his roommate and potentially getting caught balls deep inside you, his cock twitches inside aching for release; you dig your nails into his shoulder in worry.

Nobara’s shoes can be heard clacking on the wooden floor next to Yuji in the kitchen, “Hmm two mugs.. But the content is kinda cold… did they go out for a walk?”

“The dogs are here though…”

Megumi hunches over you pathetically and grinds his hips without pulling out before you usher him to back up. He follows your instruction and slides out, watching as you scurry off the bed and gently get on the floor, bringing a pillow for your hips. Eyes wide in understanding that on the floor the bed frame wouldn’t be making any noise, Megumi follows suit and positions himself between your legs again.

This is bad. So very bad. If Yuji heard you two, there was no chance hell either one of you would ever hear the end of it. But… the way you look up at Megumi and spread your legs wanting and waiting for him to continue is enough to disregard any worry.

Sighing at the feeling of your cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock once more, Megumi lifts your ankles to rest upright on his shoulders and begins thrusting again. Not pulling out all the way, his strokes are shallow but forceful, still kissing your cervix with every movement; he plants chaste kisses on your ankles before moving a hand to cover your mouth when a whimper threatens to escape.

“I guess they aren’t home?”

“Oh!” Yuji’s hands can be heard clapping through the door, “He probably finally took her to that cafe! You know I felt so bad the other day, but Megumi would kill us if we took Y/N there before he could ask her out.”

You look at Megumi and nudge the side of his face with your foot in a half-heartwarming and half-teasing manner before he pinches your sole with his fingers. Despite the truth being poured out by his best friends just outside the door, his thrusts are getting more erratic and an orgasm quickly builds in his abdomen.

To even the situation, Megumi slides a hand down further and rubs quick circles against your click, quickly ‘shushing’ you when whines escape your lips in pleasure.

Shit. He was about to cum. About to cum with his fucking friends outside his bedroom door listening.

“Well– Let’s get food then too! Maybe steak?”

Nobara can be heard walking to the front door again and scoffing, “No way– let’s get sushi.”

The pair can be heard grumbling between each other before the front door eventually ‘clicks’ and you're left in silence again.

Immediately, Megumi picks up the pace and rubs quick circles against your clit before pushing your legs off his shoulders and splaying your thighs. Long and harder strokes leave his pelvis smacking your clit, and your head leans back in pleasure at the sensation of his cock smacking into that rough patch over and over.

“Yea angel… cum.. Please– cum on my cock”

As if his words could force the action, the coil building in your gut inevitably snaps and you lean your head into the carpet of his floor and moan out his name.

“Y-Yea.. Just like that.. Fuck.. Y/N.. gonna fucking c-cum” A few more erratic thrusts and Megumi shudders as he cums hot ropes of semen into the rubber of the condom, admiring the cream of your orgasm getting pushed up his shaft to sit at the base. The sight, sound, and smell are so errotic there’s nearly a haze in the atmosphere from the intensity of it all.

Megumi thrusts a few more times with a weak exhale before slipping out of your cunt and hunching over on his knees to slip the condom off. You wearily look around and wince at the empty feeling before sitting up and wiping a few drops of sweat off your tits.

“Oh sorry,” Megumi tosses the soiled rubber into his bedroom trash and rubs the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, “didn’t mean to drip on you.”

“Hah, it’s alright. Just help me up and we’ll be even.”

Nearly in a mirrored pose reversing the roles of you both today, Megumi pulls you by the hand to stand upright and supports your waist when you nearly topple over. A chaste kiss against your temple, he sets you straight and pushes a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Let’s shower, yea?”

“Mmm good idea, we probably need it.”

Megumi takes a quick peek out of his room before swinging the door open wide and shuffling down the hallway and towards the bathroom with his hand in yours. Both dogs follow suit, but leave space for you to enter the washroom and shut the door.

You giggle slightly as the slight bruises from earlier litter his toned thighs, and Megumi bends at the waist to start the water of the shower and check the temperature. He ensures it’s not too hot and offers you a hand while you both step over the ceramic tub and behind the plastic curtain.

It’s a different level of intimacy than earlier, no longer sexual but still incredibly vulnerable and raw. Megumi wets his hair and shimmies to the side to let you do the same before passing various bottles of shampoo and soap to use; popping the cap, you inhale the familiar scent he usually wears.

“So… that was.. amazing.”

“I agree–” you rinse off soap suds from your arms, “–now what?”

“What do you mean?”

A slight burn goes across your cheeks as you shrug, it’s not like you had the what exactly are we? talk beforehand.

Megumi admires the way water cascades down your body and tilts his head to the side, “I was honest earlier when I said you’re more than just a friend to me… and I by no means see what we just did as casual. To be honest, it pisses me off to even think of this as being anything but exclusive.”

“Sooo.. you want to date? Like.. date-date?”

Megumi looks at you as if it were the simplest question possible, “I do. I want to go places with you and watch the way people look at us. To hear you introduce me to your friends as not just ‘Megumi’ but as your boyfriend.”

You nod in agreement, “I’d like that too.. Though I have a feeling you would rather call me angel.”

“Oh that..” Megumi coughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly before moving to change the conversation and stepping out of the shower, “is the water ok? I’ll step out and grab you some towels and a change of clothes.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you watch him shake his hair off from side to side like a dog and wrap a towel around his delicious ‘V’ line before stepping out of the bathroom. Enjoying the warmth of the water on your bullied skin for a few extra minutes, you stay behind the curtain before turning the faucet off and hearing a short courtesy knock at the door.

Megumi shuffles in, now dressing in casual athleisure, and uses a free leg to push the dogs back before placing a stack of towels on the counter and a fresh set of sweatpants and t-shirt on the toilet lid. Despite just seeing you naked, his eyes avoid looking at your body as you towel dry and slip into the clothes.

“Ok… I think I get it now–” He throws your towel on the corner of the door to try and admires his ‘veterinary department’ university t-shirt and JJK frat sweatpants on your frame, “the whole.. Wearing your partners’ clothes, thing.”

You smile at him and lean forward to meet his lips gently, his mouth immediately chasing yours as if he needed it to breathe and pouting once you exit and head down the hall. Christmas movie still playing on the TV, you plop down on the sofa and immediately curl into Megumi’s chest when he positions himself next to you.

Back against his chest, head on his collarbone, and legs intertwined with his, the both of you watch the cheesy film as a light snow and wind pick up outside the window. One of the dogs climbs up and rests on the empty sofa cushion next to both of you while the other lays in a ball at the base of the couch comfortably.

It’s a comfortable silence, and the steady beat of Megumi’s heart is nearly enough to lull you to sleep.

“Well? What do you think of this movie?”

Megumi shifts his weight and settles his hand just under your shirt to rub mindless patterns into the softness of your flesh, still relishing in the idea of having you all to himself, “I think I like them now.”

“Really?”

“Yea..”

You remain comfy in his arms before Megumi continues, “I guess I just never had anyone to relate them to, so I figured they were wild overestimations of how it would feel.”

“Hmm? How what would feel?”

Megumi stops tracing your waist and settles to squeeze your body further into his, almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

“This. Having someone.. Having you.”

You look up at his words and trace his jaw with your finger to usher him into your lips; he immediately connects them happily. Gently leaning in and feeling him stiffen at the action for a potential round 2, a loud grumble emits from your stomach.

“Whoops.. Hahah guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

Megumi genuinely laughs lightly and your heart melts at the sound as he sits upright, “Come on let’s eat then… I have to take you to that cafe.”

“The one we heard Yuji mention?”

Megumi rolls his eyes at your slight tease but smiles at you, “Yea, I actually had planned on taking you there on a date.”

“Well, you would be.”

Megumi keeps you trapped in his arms despite just proposing to get up and get food, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we’re dating, and you’d be taking me there.. so it’s a date.”

There’s a slight exhale that leaves his lips before he squeezes you just a bit tighter and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “mmm I guess you're right. It’s only fair to take my girlfriend out on a date.”

TY for reading the first installment of the Holiday Hoes! Frat AU JJK one shot series!!

most fics in this will be roughly this length and all in the same AU with some hints at the next few themes hidden in this one :)

writing megumi was lowkey harder than I thot, and i appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes

╰(´︶`)╯♡ -oatmeal

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #Megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro Megumi x reader #Megumi x reader smut #fushiguro x reader smut #fushiguro Megumi x reader smut #oatmealwords #oatmealwrites #oatmealwordsmegumi #oatmealwordsjjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut

193 notes · View notes

kinzhae · 1 month ago

Text

Just Want To Talk

Angst, Neglected Reader X Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, No Comfort.

Part 2

Gojo Satoru

It had become a routine. Satoru would come home late, half-heartedly ask about your day, then disappear into his room or his phone as if you weren’t even there. You told yourself it was his work—the missions, the endless responsibilities of being the strongest. But deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Tonight, you were determined to confront him. When he walked through the door, his blindfold pushed up to his forehead, exhaustion written across his face, you stood in the middle of the living room, waiting.

“Satoru, we need to talk,” you said, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can we not do this right now? It’s been a long day.”

“No,” you replied firmly. “This can’t wait. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not. You’ve been distant, cold, and I don’t even know where I stand with you anymore.”

He froze for a moment, his usual playful demeanor slipping. But instead of softening, his expression hardened. “Y/N, why do you always do this? Why do you have to make everything about you?”

His words stung, but you refused to back down. “I’m not making it about me. I’m asking you to show me that I matter to you!”

Gojo laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Matter? Do you have any idea what I deal with every day? The world doesn’t revolve around your feelings, Y/N. I have actual problems to deal with.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “So I’m just another burden to you?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sharp. “Maybe you are.”

The air left your lungs as his words settled over you like a crushing weight. Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let him see you break. “If that’s how you feel, then maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your coat and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

Geto Suguru

The man you fell in love with was gone. At least, that’s how it felt as you watched Suguru pace the room, his sharp eyes fixed on a map of his next mission. His once-kind demeanor had been replaced by cold determination, and you felt like a ghost in your own relationship.

“Suguru,” you said softly, stepping closer.

“Not now,” he muttered without looking up.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you pressed on. “It’s always ‘not now.’ When will it ever be the right time to talk about us?”

He froze, his jaw tightening. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? That everything’s fine? That I’m still the same person you fell in love with? Because I’m not.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “I know you’re not. But that doesn’t mean you have to shut me out. I’m trying to help you, Suguru. Why won’t you let me?”

He turned to you, his expression cold. “Because you can’t help me. You wouldn’t understand what I’m going through. You’re too weak to understand.”

The words struck like a physical blow, leaving you breathless. “Weak?” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’ve stood by your side through everything. I’ve supported you, defended you, and you call me weak?”

He didn’t respond, his silence louder than any words. Without another word, you turned and walked out, your heart breaking with each step.

Nanami Kento

Being with Nanami meant understanding his disciplined nature, his need for routine, and his intense focus on his work. But lately, it felt like his focus never shifted from his responsibilities to you. Dinners were silent affairs, conversations stilted and brief. You tried to chalk it up to his busy schedule, but the hollow feeling in your chest grew with each passing day.

Tonight, as he sat at the kitchen table, papers spread out before him, you decided to try again. You approached cautiously, placing a cup of tea by his hand.

“Thank you,” he said, not even glancing up.

You hesitated before speaking. “Kento, can we talk?”

“Is it important?” he asked, flipping through a file.

Your heart sank, but you pressed on. “It is to me.”

Finally, he looked up, his expression unreadable. “What is it, Y/N? I’m in the middle of something.”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling. “I feel like you’ve been distant. Like I don’t matter to you anymore.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I don’t have time for this right now. I have a lot on my plate.”

“You always have a lot on your plate,” you said, your voice breaking. “But where do I fit in? Do I even fit in anymore?”

His expression hardened, and his words came out sharper than you expected. “You want the truth? I don’t have the energy to deal with your insecurities on top of everything else. I’m doing the best I can, and if that’s not enough for you, maybe you should reevaluate what you want from me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, unable to process the coldness in his voice. “I never asked for you to be perfect, Kento. I just wanted to feel like I mattered to you.”

“You’re overthinking it,” he said, returning to his work. “Go get some rest.”

You stood there for a moment, hoping he’d say something more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as you turned and left the room, your heart shattering with every step.

Choso

Choso had always been a quiet person. But lately, his silence had become suffocating. You knew something was wrong, but every time you tried to reach out, he pulled away further. The moments you once shared, quiet and simple, now felt like distant memories. He wasn’t the person you knew anymore, and you weren’t sure if you still knew how to reach him.

Tonight, you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood by the door of his room, gathering every ounce of courage to face him. After a long moment of hesitation, you knocked softly.

“Choso?” you called gently.

“Not now, Y/N,” came his muffled response from inside.

But you pushed through, opening the door to find him sitting at the window, staring out into the night. His back was tense, his shoulders stiff as he avoided looking at you.

“I need to talk to you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the crack in it.

He didn’t respond at first, his silence speaking volumes. Finally, he turned to you, his expression closed off. “What do you want to talk about, Y/N? Is it about me not being around? Or the fact that I don’t have time for you anymore?”

You flinched, his words hitting you harder than you expected. “Choso… that’s not fair. I don’t expect you to be perfect, but I miss you. I miss us. I just want to know why you’ve been pushing me away.”

His gaze hardened, and he finally met your eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said bitterly. “I’m not the same person I was before. I’m not someone who can just go back to the way things were, Y/N. I’m broken, and I’m doing this for your own good. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

The tears you had been holding back finally fell, your heart aching as you stepped toward him. “I don’t care if you’re broken, Choso. I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want to be there for you, like you’ve always been there for me. You can’t shut me out like this.”

He stood abruptly, the tension in his body palpable. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m scared of what I’ll become, Y/N. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“You’re not alone in this, Choso,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You never have to go through it by yourself. I’m here. Always.”

Ryomen Sukuna

The halls of Sukuna’s palace were cold, unwelcoming, and as lifeless as you had come to feel over the weeks. It had been days, maybe weeks since Sukuna last spoke to you without contempt or dismissiveness. You told yourself to be patient, that the King of Curses wasn’t the type to express affection in conventional ways. Yet each ignored glance, each sarcastic quip, and each night spent alone chipped away at your resolve.

Tonight was no different. You sat alone in the chamber you shared—or were supposed to share—with Sukuna. Your fingers curled around the soft fabric of your cloak, pulling it tighter against the chill in the air. You hated how empty the space felt without him. But more than that, you hated yourself for missing someone who treated you like you were invisible.

You had to talk to him. Something had to change, or you were going to break.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you left the chamber and walked down the grand hallway to the throne room, where you knew he would be. The heavy doors were slightly ajar, and his voice carried out to you—a commanding, cold tone as he addressed his subordinates. When you entered, he didn’t even look up.

“Sukuna,” you called out, your voice trembling. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to get the attention of the room.

He glanced at you briefly before turning back to the group of curses kneeling before him. “Leave us,” he commanded. His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. Without hesitation, the subordinates filed out, casting curious glances your way as they passed.

Once the doors closed, an oppressive silence filled the room. Sukuna leaned back on his throne, one arm resting lazily on the armrest, his crimson eyes fixed on you with an air of impatience. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone sharp and dismissive.

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to steady your breathing. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Talk, then. But make it quick—I don’t have time for your whining.”

His words struck you like a slap, but you pushed through the pain, refusing to let him see you falter. “I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore,” you said, your voice trembling but steady. “You’ve been so distant, so cold. I just… I want to understand what I did wrong. Why you’re treating me like this.”

He scoffed, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what this is about? Your feelings? I don’t have time to coddle you, Y/N. You’re lucky I even let you stay here.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “Sukuna, I’ve stayed by your side through everything. I’ve endured your temper, your cruelty, because I believed there was something worth holding on to. But now… now I’m not so sure.”

His smirk disappeared, replaced by a cold, hard stare. “You think you’re special? That you’re different from anyone else who has ever stood before me? You’re not. You’re nothing more than a distraction—a fleeting amusement.”

The air was knocked out of you as if he had physically struck you. You stared at him, disbelief and heartbreak etched across your face. “How can you say that to me?” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “You’re weak. Pathetic. If you can’t handle that, then leave. I won’t stop you.”

The room spun around you as his words settled in your mind. Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. The man you had given everything to saw you as nothing more than an inconvenience. You didn’t say another word. You couldn’t. Turning on your heel, you fled the throne room, his laughter ringing in your ears like a cruel melody.

#jjk x reader #jjk satoru #jjk sukuna #jjk nanami #jjk choso #jjk suguru #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #getou suguru x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #angst #no comfort

335 notes · View notes

rileyslibrary · 2 years ago

Text

No, soldier, no.

Synopsis: You have been transferred to a British military base to work with Ghost on a new mission. As a non-native English speaker, you are not very keen on British slang/culture and need some time to pick up on things. Ghost tries to help you navigate through your language barriers and finds it rather amusing in the process.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,287

Notes:

Dedicated to all the non-native English speakers like myself who are trying their best and to the native English-speaking friends who teach us without judgment.

I’m not good at writing combat and action scenes yet, so I gave them another sedentary job once again.

You voted fluff; I give you something similar—a cute crackfic.To those who voted angst, I’ll give it to you next time, promise.

WARNING: Swearing. Again.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“And this,” you point at the spread map on the table, “is the enemy’s safe house.”

He looks at the pinpoint with furrowed eyebrows, giving small and repeated nods.

“Did we get clearance on what time to strike?” He asks, his eyes fixed on the mark as if he’s conversing with that little red pin.

“No sir, not yet,” you reply, “the Captain will come shortly to brief us on that matter.”

He stands up straight. His focus is still fixed on the map, trailing with his eyes along the road you marked. “Who’s coming with us?” He asks.

“Captain left some files on your desk, sir,” you explain, “he said that we should go through them together and choose the right recruits for the job.”

“Together?” he turns at you with the same expression he was looking at the pinpoint.

“Yes, sir, together.”

“I can do that on my own, soldier.”

“Of course, you can,” you say, “but this is a joint mission, and I get to have some saying as well, no?”

“No.” He states.

“No?”

“No.” He repeats. “I’ll lead them, so I’m the one who gets to choose the right people for my team,” he claims, walking to his desk to check on the new recruits’ files.

You clear your throat. “And my side has to have a saying to that, sir.” You reply with as much authority as you can.

He gives you a side eye, opens a file and begins to read, ignoring your statement.

You knew he was difficult; they told you that much. Simon “Ghost” Riley likes to work alone, they said. And when you asked them what this so-called Ghost does when he’s on a joint mission with other forces, they replied with the same statement; that he’s being difficult.

But you have worked with difficult people before. Most of them are like that in the force, especially regarding hierarchy. Little did he know that you had the upper hand in this situation. Difficult people hate having to deal with other difficult people.

“No problem,” you say, acting agreeable, “I just want to warn you that some of the people in those files are not very obedient and don’t like to be ordered around.”

“There’s no such thing in the army, soldier.”

“Oh, but there is, lieutenant,” you say, hiding a smile, “especially if they’re the Captain’s godson or the General’s nephew; they tend to slack a lot.”

“Fucking bastards,” he swears and rolls his eyes. He leaves the file before him and picks the rest of the pile, swearing profanities. He begins shuffling through the papers with eagerness. You speculate he’s trying to find the people you’re referring to. A sign that indicates a blood relation with the General, birth certificates, notes that specify who baptised who, perhaps. Of course, he can’t find anything, and he gives up.

“Which of these fuckers are they?” he finally asks, throwing the papers on his desk.

“May I approach your desk to show you, Lieutenant?” You ask out of politeness.

“Oh, no, no need to do that, Y/N,” he replies sarcastically. He looks at the mess he created with the scattered papers, “just point them to me telepathically, and I’ll discard them.”

You stare at him, and he meets your gaze. You didn’t get any definite answer from him, so you are waiting for a clear answer, just like they taught you to do ever so obediently. Unfortunately, he misunderstands your stance.

“Please tell me you’re not actually trying to send me information via brainwaves, soldier,” he comments with a desperate tone.

“I was just waiting for an answer, Lieutenant.” You explain.

He keeps staring at you before he lets another exhale and rubs his eyes.

“Yes, Y/N,” he says, opening his arms wide, almost theatrically. “You may approach my desk and pinpoint those brats at me, just like you did with that checkmark before on the map.”

You nod and do as you are told. You sit opposite Ghost’s desk and start sorting out the messy papers. “Apologies, sir,” you say, “sometimes it’s tough to understand when you’re being sarcastic.”

He looks at you dumbfounded. “At what point did you think I wasn’t being sarcastic when referring to telepathy?” He asks.

“Well, it was between sarcastic or angry, sir,” you explain, looking embarrassed, “and I didn’t want to take my chances.”

He rubs his forehead and stays still for a while. You peak at him from the corner of your eye; he looks like he’s calming down, contemplating. As if he’s reflecting on his actions.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, “I sometimes forget we have a language barrier.”

“And cultural.” You add.

“And cultural.” He agrees.

You both begin to collaborate on the recruits’ profiles. You discard the ones you know are not fit for the job (i.e. the ones that will clash with Ghost and his personality) and hand him the shortlisted ones. He begins muttering something about “CROW bags”, and you look at him like a puppy trying to understand the “sit” command. He patiently explains that “CROW bags” stand for “Combat Recruit Of War”, which, in the British army, is a soldier fresh out of training, a newbie, and therefore not fit for the job. When you ask him what the “bag” means, he shrugs and says he doesn’t know. You shortlist five profiles you’re both happy with and agree to wrap them up. You lean on the desk and stand up.

“Sir,” you say, still leaning on the table, “you need to change your desk.”

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks.

“It’s wanky, sir.”

You’ve never seen him turn with such force to look at you. He shakes his head vigorously like he’s forcing thoughts to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to suppress a laugh, “my desk is what?”

“Wanky,” you repeat with confidence, “all this time that we’ve been going back and forth with the files, the table was wanking.”

“The table was…” he leans back in his chair and covers his already concealed mouth with his gloved hand.

“…wanking, sir,” you complete his sentence, “here, look,” and proceed to shake the unsteady desk.

“You need to either get a new desk or screw this one better, sir.” You advise him, now examining the desk’s legs. He pinches his nose’s bridge and murmurs something like “table, you fucking wanker” under his breath before finally gathering the courage to explain.

“No, soldier, it’s not—“

But as he speaks, Captain Price interrupts your conversation and walks into the office. He looks at Ghost, who is almost teary-eyed from the suppressed laugh and then at you.

“What are you two up to?” He asks with a smile, holding his tactical vest with his thumbs in its pockets. Ghost gestures for him to stop talking.

“I was just telling the lieutenant—” you begin, but Ghost interrupts you.

“The table is wonky, or rather wobbly, and I need to tighten the bolts.” He says and gives you a meaningful look. Epiphany strikes you, and you widen your eyes.

Price shakes the desk and looks at you both. “Look at that,” he says, “you’re right, Y/N”, and shoots you one of his signature smiles, only to be met by the red hue that has spread across your face from embarrassment and eyes threatening to bolt from your head. You lower your head in response. Price moves his gaze from you to Ghost in confusion.

“We managed to shortlist a few, Capt,” he says to Price changing the conversation.

“Very well,” Price says. “Any good?”

“Yes,” you reply, “only the good ones—no CROW bars.”

“It’s bags, kid,” Ghost whispers, and Price chuckles slightly, “CROW bags.”

———————————————————————

4K notes · View notes

romanticintheory · 8 months ago

Text

thinking about simon riley being betrayed by reader.

simon "ghost" riley x reader

-when you first joined the task force, you were a breath of fresh air.

-you were extremely good at what you did and had great chemistry with everyone. even simon.

-kyle loved having you as his new training buddy. the two of you found that your music tastes surprisingly overlapped, so you'd often share playlists with each other.

-johnny was, as always, excited to have someone new to banter with. if he had to take a shot for every time you made him laugh, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning.

-john was relieved seeing you integrate so well into his team. it was like introducing a new puppy to three of his own. when laswell sat him down and introduced your file, a little barren compared to the others (save for simon) but with a raving review from the woman herself, he was curious to see your character.

-and even if he didn't show it, simon was the most grateful for your arrival. there was just an unspoken level of understanding between the two of you.

-one day, you're kneeling next to him on the floor trying to put pressure on his wound and keep him alive long enough for help to arrive. you didn't know each other extremely well, but you seemed so upset. he couldn't imagine why.

-"hey, now, don't go quiet on me, lt," you said in an almost begging tone.

-"you must not know me well," he replied, fighting groans from the pain.

-you ignore his attempt at amusing you. "tell me something," you order, voice starting to crack.

-so, he did. maybe it was the fact that he was lightheaded from the blood loss and half delusional, or maybe it was that he wanted to feel closer to you, but he ended up telling you about his family. he talked about the monster of a man his father was, how he learned to throw him out and take care of his family, and how not even that had a happy ending.

-by the end of it, there was a voice on the other end of your radio telling you they were less than a minute away from help. you slipped your hand into his and told him, "if you can survive that, you can survive this."

-it wasn't until after he recovered that he found out you had your own stab wound to take care of. why you completely disregarded it in favor of his, he'll never know.

-ever since, there was a change in the air between you two. fleeting glances, lingering touches, warm faces. it got even worse when you confessed your feelings to each other, and johnny made sure to be as obnoxious about it as possible.

-for a long time before you, simon felt a kind of loneliness within him. sure, the rest of the team was good company and he'd trust them with his life, but you seemed to do more than just break down his walls. somehow, you seeped through the cracks in his heart and made a home of it. that's why he is so surprised when everyone is taken prisoner except you after an unexpected ambush.

-the surprise eventually turns into something worse.

-there's a blinding rage surging in his veins and an icy coldness in his heart when he catches a glimpse of you acting buddy-buddy with the enemy.

-you're called a name he had never heard before, "(y/n) (l/n)," and being congratulated on your return.

-"knew you'd never disappoint us! and four of 'em, too!"

-how could you to this to them? to him?

-he spends the next excruciatingly long hours as a prisoner with no sleep. the only thing on his mind is wondering what went wrong. what did he miss? what could he have done differently? for a second, he wants to think about how he'd get vengeance on you, but he couldn't. his mind wouldn't let him, and he cursed himself for it. were you that good at manipulation? at seducing him with your supposed love and humanity that, even now, he can't think of you with ill intent without that sour feeling in his chest haunting him?

-he thinks he's hallucinating when he sees you standing at the now unlocked door to his cell with the rest of the task force standing behind you. you speak in a quick, hushed whisper, as if there was barely any time to even say a single word.

-"you'll have to be quick if you want to get out of here."

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod mw x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #cod angst #call of duty angst #simon riley angst #ghost angst #rarawrites

489 notes · View notes

megalony · 2 months ago

Text

Second Chances

Hi, so this is my first Bobby Nash x reader imagine, thank you to the amazing anon who sent in this idea. I had such fun writing this and I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Bobby feels like his relationship with (Y/n) is a second chance at happiness. Even though she is younger than him, and sometimes he worries he is holding her back. But then things progress further.

Enjoy.

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

When Bobby propped his feet up on the coffee table, a smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips and she shifted around too. She shuffled down the sofa a bit so she was slouched down with her legs curled beneath her and her feet pressing into the arm of the sofa.

Both hands moved to curl around Bobby's arm and her cheek fell to rest on his shoulder.

The movie playing on the tv was good, it was entertaining enough, but it didn't hold (Y/n)'s entire focus. Her attention was split between the movie and the person sitting next to her. She wasn't sure why Bobby kept stealing her attention, it wasn't as if he had been gone for days or even weeks. He had been gone for little over twelve hours while he had been at work, and she was used to it.

She was with the Captain of the station, Bobby had to do extra shifts. He had paperwork to sort and file, leave to approve and deny, rotas to sort out and shifts to cover. His job was demanding and (Y/n) was used to his time needing to be split.

Maybe it was just because he was home.

That sounded strangely wonderful. Home. Home was where Bobby was. It didn't mean the house where she used to live with her sister when she moved to LA. It didn't mean that odd, vacant flat that had felt horrible to come home to when she lived on her own.

Home didn't mean spending evenings alone or turning all the lamps on so it felt warm instead of odd and deafeningly quiet.

It meant being here with Bobby. It wasn't a case of finding out in advance what shifts he was working so they knew when they could spend days together or stay over at each other's places. It wasn't a case of messaging him when she was alone and he was at work or when they were both in separate homes and separate beds.

Knowing there was someone else to come home to or who was waiting at home for her made (Y/n) feel alive. It made her feel safe and complete and like she wasn't alone anymore.

Tilting her head down a little, (Y/n) attached her lips to Bobby's shoulder and began gliding her fingers up and down his arm like she was drawing patterns and secret messages into his skin. She knew he was smiling when she felt him kiss the top of her head and she wondered if his attention was fully on the movie or if his mind was wandering too.

"Can I ask you something?"

(Y/n) bit back the urge to tell him that he just did and settled for nodding against his shoulder.

She leaned her head back so her chin was pressing down into his shoulder and her head was at an angle so she could look up at him. Bobby seemed to debate whether or not to look at her as he spoke or keep his eyes on the screen. He settled for inclining his head in her direction but she was sure his eyes were focusing on her lips rather than her gaze while he spoke.

"Do you ever think you're missing out?" His question was so odd and out of place that a quirky smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips.

"On what?"

What was she supposed to be missing out on? What had he been thinking about to make him ask something like that? Had (Y/n) missed something here about where this conversation was leading?

"Life, in general? Doing things, rather than being here with me?"

The smile that had graced (Y/n)'s lips faded when Bobby's words registered with her and she realised where he was trying to go with this conversation.

Her head lifted from his shoulder and she switched positions so she wasn't sitting with her legs curled beneath her anymore. She moved to drape her legs across Bobby's lap which made him raise a brow and grin, despite the nerves about where this conversation was going to lead them.

He watched curiously as (Y/n) let go of his arm so she could fold her arms across her chest. And the way she sank back into the sofa made Bobby raise a brow. She looked like she was making a statement; making herself comfortable and cosy as if to prove that this was where she was, where she wanted to be, and she wouldn't be moving from this spot anytime soon.

"No."

"You're sure?"

(Y/n) couldn't quite comprehend how Bobby could be so calm while he was leading them down this road.

This wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have because it wasn't something she often found herself thinking about. This kind of thing didn't bother her.

Sure, they'd had a few ups and downs in the beginning. Bobby certainly didn't look his age, but it was clear that he was older than (Y/n). Not a lot of people cared or made clear judgements, but (Y/n) knew it was something Bobby thought about from time to time. He couldn't seem to grasp that they were both in the same place in their lives despite the age difference that suggested they should be at different stages.

The age didn't matter to (Y/n), not one bit. She loved Bobby and she wanted to be with him; as long as he felt the same then age was just a number and time felt like a fantasy.

"Yes… what do you think I should be doing?" She couldn't help but ask because she was curious.

(Y/n) wondered what it was Bobby thought she was missing out on and what he thought she should be doing to better spend her time than being here in their home. Than being with him.

"I don't know… going out, dating, finding yourself. A normal life."

The way Bobby waved his hand as he spoke made it sound so passing, so fleeting and (Y/n) couldn't help how her smile faded and her head pressed further back into the sofa. Her arms dropped from her chest and she reached back out to curl them back around Bobby's arm. When she gave a small tug, he loosened his arm and let her drag him across until his arm was across her chest and his hand curled around her thigh.

"This is my life, right here. With you." The sincere tone to her words seemed to catch Bobby off guard and his head twisted to look down at her.

The way his brows rose in surprise worried (Y/n) because she wondered if he truly believed those thoughts. If he believed she should be somewhere else, that she wanted to be somewhere else.

(Y/n) wasn't a lost soul needing guidance, she didn't need to go in search of her missing pieces. Every part of her was here and all of her was screaming any time she wasn't with Bobby. This is where she felt at peace, this was her home where she wanted to be and (Y/n) was very happy with that.

She didn't want to go out dating people when she had someone she loved and someone who clearly loved her right down to her bones.

Why wasn't this life normal? If no one knew about the age difference, if no one asked or bothered to think about it, then their lives would still be normal.

So what if (Y/n) hadn't dated hundreds of people before she got with Bobby? So what if he had a family before he met her? Everyone had different tappestries woven into their lives, this was no different.

"You're really happy with this, with me?" The apprehension in his voice sent a dagger piercing through (Y/n)'s ribs, trying to reach her heart.

"There's nowhere else I want to be; and no one else I want to be with, Bobby."

If she wasn't happy, she wouldn't be here. (Y/n) wouldn't of agreed to move in if she didn't think that their relationship was going to last. If she wasn't truly happy (Y/n) would of kept her apartment as a safety net in case things went wrong or if she didn't see this as a forever thing. But she had moved in with Bobby as soon as he asked because it was what she wanted to do.

(Y/n) didn't want to go out looking for people to 'have a good time with'. Her version of a good time was being with Bobby. Whether that meant going out for a meal, or staying in like tonight and watching a movie, or going to meet his team and spending an afternoon with them. Whatever they did together was (Y/n)'s version of a good time.

This is what she wanted and she needed Bobby to see that because she didn't want him to feel insecure when he had no reason to be. He wasn't forcing her to stay home with him or holding her back from anything. In fact, it was the opposite. Bobby was the driving force behind almost everything (Y/n) did.

The way he smiled down at her made (Y/n)'s heart soar and she couldn't help but lean her chest into his arm so she could reach her hand out to cup his face. Her fingers cradled his cheek and her thumb brushed along his cheekbone as she stared lovingly up at him before pulling him down to her for a kiss.

She loved the way his hand tightened around her thigh and how he leaned into her, almost pressing her back into the sofa with a new sense of eagerness.

"Good, because I was thinking…" His words whispered against her lips as he rested his temple against hers. "I don't- I didn't have anyone to put as my emergency contact at work, if something ever happened to me. But maybe now it's time to add a name, to add you."

"Really?"

(Y/n) wasn't sure she had ever been anyone's emergency contact before. She had never been serious enough with anyone to be added as their contact at work. And she had never dated anyone with a job that meant they were more likely to be involved in accidents or incidents. Being an emergency contact always seemed like a far-fetched scenario, something that might never happen.

But in Bobby's line of work, it was something that was needed. If he went to hospital for any reason, who would they call? Who was close enough to him to come and visit and make sure he was okay and take him home?

Bobby had never added anyone before because the only people he was close to were his team. If something happened to Bobby while he was on the job, his team would be there with him so he had no reason to add any of them as his contact.

(Y/n) changed things. She lived with him now. She was his partner and he loved her. If something happened, Bobby would want (Y/n) there by his side, he could be calm in any situation, but having someone there with him to hold his hand and make everything feel okay was something he hadn't had in such a long time. It was something he wanted; something he needed.

"Really." He murmured quietly and he was unable to stop himself from smiling when he leaned across and stole a kiss from her lips.

When he kissed her again, (Y/n) moved her other hand so both hands were cupping his face. Her thumbs stroked across his cheekbones and she held him at bay just long enough to arch a brow and catch him with a serious look before he stole another kiss.

"This doesn't mean you start getting into trouble though. I'm thrilled to be your emergency number, but I don't exactly dream of getting that kind of call, you know."

(Y/n) was overwhelmed and delighted to be important enough to Bobby that he would add her to his file at work. That he would allow his colleagues to ring her and ask her down to the station or to the hospital if anything was ever wrong. But she didn't want this to mean she started getting lots of phone calls like that.

Those weren't the kind of phone calls (Y/n) dreamed or longed to have and so far, Bobby had done well not to get into serious trouble or accidents at work. She would love for him to keep up that winning streak so this formality, this precaution, never had to be put to use.

She loved the way his eyes clouded over and he flashed her that smile that made her knees weak as he swooped in and stole her lips again.

"Deal."

Running his hand along his face, Bobby took a deep breath before he clicked the save button on the computer.

There it was, in black and white. There was (Y/n)'s name, typed up in the contact information on Bobby's file. There was her number beneath that and their shared address in the bottom column.

And right there, right at the end after it said relationship in italics, was the word Partner.

That was all he needed to add. That was all anyone needed to see if Bobby ever got into an emergency so they knew who to call and who he would want there by his side. He would want (Y/n), because she was his girl, the person he went home to after every shift. The person he loved.

He clicked off the file before he looked down at the paper form in his hands. Computer forms were safer, they were backed up and saved and there was a copy on the personell file at headquarters. It was there for everybody to find in an emergency. But that didn't mean that they didn't have paper copies too. Copies to keep in the filing cabinet so if something happened, the shift lead could look through and call whoever was down as the emergency contact.

Bobby neatly added (Y/n)'s name at the bottom section of his own paperwork that had been filled out by his hand over five years ago. Paperwork that had always remained blank since he moved to LA. Paperwork that always used to make him tear up and lose his ability to breathe.

He didn't feel like that anymore. He felt like he could breathe in relief, that he could smile and not be covered in crawling, itching powder that made him think he was drowning in guilt and grief.

He could move on and be with someone else and he didn't have to feel guilty about that. He hadn't done anything wrong.

Once the paperwork was filled out, Bobby put his file away in the cabinet and locked the drawer before he turned on his heels and clamped his hands down on his hips.

Now that he had made that milestone, it was time for the next one. Time to ask the team if they wanted to come round to his and (Y/n)'s place at the weekend. It was about time Bobby introduced them to the person who had been making him smile so much recently. He knew his team well enough by now to know that none of them were going to judge and he didn't have anything to worry about, as far as they were concerned.

He didn't have to worry.

***

(Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe when she walked into the station. She could feel her chest tightening to the point it was as if she had an elastic band snapped tight around her chest and it was about to snap.

She hadn't been to the station that many times, and each time, Bobby had brought her down. She had never turned up on her own before and it almost felt like she was intruding. Bobby told her she could come down any time she liked, he said they encouraged families to come down and see them and have a drink and a chat, granted as long as they weren't about to rush out on a big call.

But (Y/n) still felt like turning up unannounced was somehow rude of her and that the team might not appreciate it.

"Hey (Y/n)."

Her head quickly twisted to the right and she managed a smile when she saw Buck heading her way. He had a tea towel tossed over his shoulder implying he had been up in the kitchen. (Y/n) knew Bobby had been teaching him how to cook lately; Buck seemed the only one interested in cooking, everyone else was more than happy for Bobby to cook for them.

"Hi."

"You looking for Bobby?" When she nodded, Buck looked over his shoulder and hollered "Cap!" and waved his hand to the the side. He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked past her when they both saw Bobby aiming their way.

(Y/n) could feel the nerves igniting in her stomach and fluttering up to her chest when her eyes set on Bobby. That charming smile made the butterflies amplify and she felt like her head was going to implode with all the thoughts rushing round in her mind.

She tried her best not to let the nerves get to her smile when Bobby reached out for her. She let herself melt into his hold when his hands found her hips and his thumbs began stroking up and down her sides in a soothing motion that (Y/n) found herself focusing on instead. She pushed up on her toes to kiss him and gave his shoulders a squeeze.

"Hey, everything okay?" Bobby's head tilted to the side as he looked down at her and tried to gage her expression.

She never said she was stopping by today and as much as Bobby loved people dropping in, it wasn't something (Y/n) was accustomed to doing. He hoped she was here for a friendly visit and not because something was wrong or she was nervous about something.

He relaxed a little when (Y/n) stole another kiss and he felt her hand move to cup the side of his neck as she nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, just wondered if you had a moment to talk."

Bobby couldn't help the way he shivered when (Y/n)'s hand tickled down the side of his neck and across his chest. If she wanted to talk he was more than willing to take her into the office and find out what had brought her down here.

"Sure." Bobby dropped his hands from (Y/n)'s waist so he could take her hand in his. He did a quick sweep of the station, but everyone was busy with their own tasks which meant he was fine to head into the office for a while.

He tugged on her hand and led the way through the station towards the corridor at the end. It made him smile when he felt (Y/n)'s free hand curling around his arm and he loved the way she pressed up into him as she walked right beside him. With her lips and nose pressing into his bicep, (Y/n) inhaled his scent and her breaths fanned softly into his shirt as Bobby led her into his office at the end of the corridor.

When they reached the office, Bobby motioned towards the chair in front of his desk but (Y/n) shook her head. She didn't want to sit down. That would make this feel formal, as if she were here for an interview.

She chose to lean her hips back against the desk instead and slump her bag down on the desk so it wasn't weighing down on her shoulder anymore. Her relaxed stance made Bobby smile curiously at her and he stood in front of her, close enough that he was practically stood between her legs.

He reached out so his right hand was on the desk right beside (Y/n)'s hip while his other hand held his waist. The way he looked down at her made shivers course up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she tilted her head back so she was looking up at him.

"To what do I owe this visit?" He hummed quietly while he leaned across and pecked her temple.

"Here."

Bobby was a little more than surprised when (Y/n) reached into her bag and then held out a small black box towards his chest.

He wasn't sure what he'd done to be given a gift. Today wasn't anything special, Bobby was good with dates and he knew nothing had been written on the calendar today.

He pushed off the desk so he was back on his feet properly and gratefully took the box. Curiosity burned in his eyes as he removed the lid to see what he was being handed.

Anxiety started to well up in (Y/n)'s stomach again and she moved her hands behind her to grip the counter so she could keep herself steady. She felt so anxious and unbalanced that if she didn't hold onto something, (Y/n) was sure she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip tight enough to make her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes followed Bobby as he took out the keychain.

She hadn't known what to get to break the news. Somehow it didn't feel right to just blurt the news out and (Y/n) didn't know if she'd have the nerve to tell Bobby outright. She wanted to find a way to tell him, something sweet to try and show that this wasn't a bad thing.

Her eyes tried to read Bobby's expression and see what he was thinking, but he looked oddly blank. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning or shaking his head or raising a brow or sighing.

He wasn't doing anything.

He had the small square box in one hand and the keyring in the other with his thumb periodically stroking across the inscription on the front. (Y/n) had seen the keyring when she had been out and thought it was rather fitting; something told her she had to get it, she couldn't just walk past. Almost like fate.

Bobby felt like he had been cast under a spell. All he could do was stare at the silver heart in his hand that read 'Our Little Love' in the centre.

Somehow, it felt as if the keychain had magically transferred into Bobby's system. It felt like that keychain was a heart of stone, slowly but surely sinking down into the pit of his stomach.

It didn't take much for Bobby to read (Y/n)'s expression. The worry in her eyes, the tepid, anxious smile on her lips. The way her fingers were tapping on the desk and the way she kept darting her eyes around the office. And the moment Bobby slowly dragged his eyes down to her stomach and then back up again, he could of cried. The look in her eyes said it all.

"You're pregnant."

(Y/n) found the will to nod, but she didn't know what to do. She wanted to reach out for Bobby. She wanted to take his hand and wrap her arms around him and lean into him and try to see what was going through his mind, but she couldn't. She didn't have the willpower to move from where she was resting against the desk. Moving felt too nerve-wrecking.

This wasn't exactly planned, and this wasn't something they had talked about. Of course, (Y/n) knew all about Bobby's past. She knew about his family, about Marcy and the kids and what happened. She knew Bobby had taken time and done a lot of work to come to terms with what happened and the guilt he had carried around with him.

Knowing he was comfortable enough with her and loved her enough to talk about his family and tell her when he was feeling low made (Y/n)'s heart soar. She was glad he trusted her.

But the subject of kids never seemed to happen.

Deep down, (Y/n) had been praying that Bobby would be happy about this. She wanted him to smile or cry or just say that this was a good thing. This was a piece of each of them. This was a family of their own, a baby.

(Y/n) loved Bobby, she loved him more than anything in the world and she could just imagine him with their baby. She knew he would be amazing, he had loved being a dad when he was with Marcy, despite how different that had been and how things had played out.

"Bobby, say something." The hitch in her voice made (Y/n) roll her lips together and she found the will to push off the desk.

She shakily reached out and curled her hand around his wrist, stepping closer until she was almost pressed up into his chest. He had to say something. He had to give her some kind of inkling as to what was running through his head right now. (Y/n) had to know his initial thoughts on this and what this meant to him. For him. For them.

"This… this, this is big."

Tipping her head down, (Y/n) brushed her hand beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall.

That was all she needed to hear to know what Bobby thought about this. He was overwhelmed. He was becoming riddled with anxiety and as much as (Y/n) wanted to be mad about it, she couldn't. She knew there was a big, big chance that Bobby wouldn't react well to this news but (Y/n) had prayed that he would be okay with this.

She took a step back and moved both hands to run up and down her face to try and gather her senses and calm herself down.

(Y/n) waited another minute to see if Bobby would say anything else, but all he seemed to do was stare down at the keyring. The lack of a proper response made (Y/n) tighten her hand around his wrist until she was almost cutting off his circulation, but he didn't seem to notice at all.

"I- I shouldn't have come here." Her hand released from Bobby's wrist to cover her mouth and she hooked her bag back on her shoulder so she could weave around him.

She didn't want to stand in this office and burst into tears. She would rather go and wallow at home and let this news sink in for Bobby. She should have waited. She should have told him later, but (Y/n) had been too nervous to wait around once she found out. And she had been begging, praying and relying on the slither of hope that Bobby might just react happily to this to will herself to come here today.

It had clearly been the wrong choice.

Bobby finally snapped out of his trance and set the keyring and box down on the desk before he turned in (Y/n)'s direction.

"Hey, I'm happy about this."

The way he whispered the words and kept darting his eyes around his own office made (Y/n) smile sadly. She shook her head, smothering a broken laugh with the palm of her hand.

"Somehow I don't think you'd have to convince me if that were true."

If Bobby were truly happy about this, he wouldn't need to convince her. He wouldn't have to reassure (Y/n) that this is what he wanted. She would see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But all she could see was wallowing anxiety and pain. The exact opposite of what she needed to hear to convince her that Bobby wanted this baby.

"(Y/n)- (Y/n) please." Her name growled past his lips and he set off into a sprint when she left the office.

He didn't want her to leave. She couldn't drop a bombshell like that and then leave. They needed to talk. Bobby needed her to stay, he needed to think and talk and work out what this meant and what they were going to do about this. Bobby couldn't finish the rest of his shift with this news playing on his mind, it was going to distract him and in his line of work he couldn't afford distractions.

He hurried after her just as (Y/n) walked out the corridor and onto the station floor.

Before he could think about it, Bobby grabbed her wrist and reeled her back towards him. When she stumbled over her feet, he stepped closer so she tumbled into his chest and his other hand planted shakily on her waist to steady her and stop her from walking away.

He hated the tears that were welling up in her eyes and the way she pressed her shaking hand into his chest made his heart tremble.

"I'm gonna go. I'll see you at home."

He didn't respond quick enough. He didn't know what to say because nothing was coming to mind. All Bobby could focus on was the fact that he was being given a second chance. Another chance to ruin another life; two lives if he included (Y/n).

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her but that was what was going to happen, he could see it.

(Y/n) brushed both hands across her face and shook her head to try and calm herself down. She could feel her arms trembling and her hands stayed covering her mouth as she tried to stop herself from crying. She didn't want to cry here, in front of the team. She was just starting to get to know them and make friends with the people Bobby worked with, crying in front of them wouldn't help at all.

"Are you okay?"

She almost jumped when Hen reached out and placed a careful, tender hand on her shoulder just before (Y/n) got to the station doors.

"Fine, fine." She managed to nod her head, even though she knew her expression was anything but convincing. She didn't want to talk to anyone. The only person she needed to talk to was Bobby, and he seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

***

Both Bobby's hands began to tap against his hips in tandem with his boot that was thudding against the laminate floor. He could feel his jaw beginning to grind when (Y/n) turned her back on him; again.

They needed to talk.

She had barely spoken a word to him since he came home and although Bobby knew he deserved it, he couldn't stand the silence. They had to talk about this, the air needed to be cleared and he had been stewing all afternoon on what he wanted to say and how to try and broach the subject with her.

Bobby had left work early, he hadn't been able to finish his paperwork, he couldn't keep his mind on the job and all the team had seen the way he was drifting when they were trying to work. And he knew the team had seen (Y/n) disappear in a wave of tears. They knew something had been wrong and they had felt the tension in the air.

It wasn't normal for their Captain not to talk to them and Bobby had only spoken to bark out orders when it was necessary.

He had left Hen in charge for the rest of the shift and come home and he sighed in utter relief when he saw that (Y/n) was home too. He wouldn't of known what to do with himself if she had been out when he got back.

"Will you stop, please?" His hands reached out and curled around (Y/n)'s wrists, swiftly pulling her arms towards him and turning her away from the kitchen counter.

He couldn't stand and watch her flutter about the house in a panic, trying desperately to find something to do with herself to avoid this conversation.

He could feel her hands shaking in his grip and when she looked up at him, Bobby realised she was barely breathing, she was so nervous. He hated that he made her that nervous, that he was the reason she was panicking. That was the last thing he wanted to do here.

"I'm terrified, (Y/n)."

Bobby's hands tightened around her wrists until (Y/n) could no longer feel her hands. She tilted her head back so she was looking up at him and her teeth sank down in her lower lip again, which was now speckled with blood from how much she had been chewing on her lip from anxiety.

When he let go of her hands, he began to rub both his hands together and crack his knuckles. While (Y/n) folded both her arms over her chest.

All she wanted to do was move closer and burrow into Bobby's embrace. She always felt calmer and safe when he held her and they hardly ever had cause to argue. Even when they had been discussing the age difference in their relationship, they had never gone into full blown arguments.

When she didn't answer, it was clear she was waiting for Bobby to keep going. He was finally opening up and willing to talk and (Y/n) needed him to. She needed him to tell her what was on his mind and going through his head because she didn't know what else to do right now but listen.

"I- I messed up last time. I lost everyone I called my family and I buried my kids, that was my fault and something I have to live with. I don't- I'm grateful for a second chance, but I don't w- I don't want to lose anyone else."

Bobby had done something no parent should ever do. He buried both his kids. He lost them both and after that, he never thought he would meet someone else to share his life with, let alone have another child after what happened. He had resigned himself to the knowledge that his children were never going to get any older. He was never going to see anymore milestones, never take his daughter to prom or watch his kids graduate from school or walk his daughter down the aisle or see them have their own families.

That didn't look like it would be in Bobby's future and he was okay with that. He had come to terms with that. Having another child felt like a second chance he didn't deserve. Bobby wasn't a victim, he had been the reason he lost his family.

Did he truly deserve another?

"History doesn't always repeat itself Bobby, and this baby wouldn't be a replacement, you know that, right?"

(Y/n) looked like she was going to reach out for him, but when she saw the way Bobby tangled his hand in his hair and started to tug on the short strands, she stopped. Instead, she gestured to the limited photos around the apartment.

There weren't many pictures of Bobby's children. He had two photos of them on the walls, a drawer full of pictures in the bedroom and a photo album he only looked through when he was having a breakdown. It had taken him years to be able to have their pictures on the walls and face them every day, but Bobby was finally at that place now; because he was with (Y/n).

This baby would never be a replacement or a second chance, it would just be an extension of Bobby's family. This baby would grow up knowing they had two older siblings they would never meet but would always see in photos.

This would never be the start of a new life where Bobby would have to leave his old life behind and forget his family. (Y/n) would never do that to him or expect Bobby to forget his family. But this baby would be a part of them, it would be a new chapter in their lives. This was something (Y/n) desperately wanted to be happy about.

"(Y/n), I'm older than you." Bobby's jaw locked and his hands moved and began flexing at his sides, continuously clenching into fists and unclenching again like he was preparing for some sort of fight.

His shoulders tensed when (Y/n) scoffed and held her hands out like she didn't understand what that revelation was supposed to mean.

"So?"

What did that matter? They had gone over that so many times since they first decided to get into a relationship together and (Y/n) was tired of that subject. Being with an older man wasn't something that weighed heavily on (Y/n)'s mind and she didn't let it get in the way of their relationship or make things complicated because it didn't need to be complicated.

"You're at the age of starting a family, I'm not."

His words had (Y/n) pulling her sleeves over her hands which she pressed against her lips to stop herself from screaming in frustration.

"I'm… God, I'm quite a bit older than you, don't you think that might cause a few issues with a baby? People will see me with this baby and think I'm the granddad. Our kid will notice all the other dads at the school or on the playground are a lot younger than theirs. I don't want you or them to resent me for that."

"Bobby… you really think I'd t-think that?" The broken tone in (Y/n)'s voice made a tear cascade down Bobby's face.

Maybe he didn't think (Y/n) would believe that, but it didn't stop his mind from believing it.

Bobby had started a family over a decade ago. He had begun and ended his family, he wasn't at the preferred age for having a baby, no matter how badly he might want one.

He was afraid. He was worried of taking a baby out and have everyone believe it was his grandchild rather than his baby or have people look at them funny if the three of them went out somewhere. And then there was school and plays and activities to consider. Bobby would be the odd one out. He would be the elder one there at events, he would be the elder dad.

What would their child think? Would they be okay with their dad being much older than everyone else's? Would they think it was strange? Would they resent Bobby for that, would they blame him?

Would (Y/n) start to blame him? Bobby dreaded the thought of (Y/n) waking up in five or ten years time and wondering if having a child with someone older, with Bobby, might have been a mistake.

What they had together was special, Bobby couldn't stand to lose this or do anything that would change what they had or make it difficult. He didn't want (Y/n) or another child to resent him a few years down the line. He didn't want this to be complicated when it should be a happy time in their lives.

And he didn't want to lose anyone else.

Bobby realised a second too late that he hadn't answered her. He realised when the tears were streaming down (Y/n)'s face and she was walking away from him.

He felt rooted to the spot, tears flushing down his own face until he heard (Y/n) moving about.

He followed her into the bedroom, but his heart lurched up into his throat and he all but gasped when she slung her bag on her shoulder and walked out again. Bobby followed after her like a shadow, like a lovesick puppy desperate for her to talk to him and he grabbed her wrist and weaved in front of her to make her stop and actually talk to him again.

"What are you doing?" The panic in his voice made (Y/n) whimper and she took a step back so she didn't melt into his arms and give in.

"I'm gonna stay with Anna for a while."

They needed space. They needed to think things over and then decide what they were doing about this situation. Arguing wasn't going to help and neither was getting overwhelmed and panicked. (Y/n) would go and stay with her sister for the night, for a day or two until she and Bobby had things all figured out.

She wasn't sure whether it was easier or harder when Bobby didn't stop her.

He couldn't stop himself. As soon as the front door closed, Bobby grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be a candle holder, and tossed it against the wall. He watched the glass shatter and lumps of wax scatter along the floor resembling the broken pieces of his heart that Bobby couldn't mould back together yet.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sat at the kitchen table. He didn't know what time it was or where his phone was or what he was going to do. He had no idea if (Y/n) had messaged him, he didn't know if she had actually gone to Anna's or if she decided to go somewhere else. He didn't know if Hen finished the shift okay and if the team were all alright.

All he knew was that he needed to do something. He needed to explain. He needed to get all the thoughts from his head and the weight off of his heart before it gave out.

His fingers drummed against the table to the point he was sure he would be leaving indents in the wood and his knee jutted into the underside of the table every other second in a continuous manner.

But after another minute, maybe two, Bobby turned around. He found a spare piece of paper from the drawer behind him.

He snatched a pen from the bowl in the centre of the table and tried to write. He wasn't sure where he wanted to start, where it would lead or what he was doing.

All Bobby knew was that he had to do something before he imploded.

The tears trickling down his face splotched onto the fresh ink on the paper and created dark hazy blue welts across the page, but it didn't stop him from writing. It didn't stop him from pouring his bleeding, crumpling heart out onto the page that had (Y/n)'s name written across the top.

'I was the catalyst last time. I was the cause, the effect and the reason; it's my fault they're gone.'

Bobby didn't want to do it again. He didn't want to get so close to someone, to share his life and his heart and create a new life with them only to lose them both. He would love nothing more than to have a baby with (Y/n), but Bobby wasn't so sure he deserved it. And he would never want to do this if sometime in the future both (Y/n) and their baby would resent him.

'Maybe I don't deserve this second chance, no matter how much I want it. And if that's true, then I'm never going to be enough for either of you.'

***

Three days.

(Y/n) had been staying with Anna for three days and she didn't know what to do anymore.

She had been too nervous, too overwhelmed and sick to go into work yesterday, today as well. Morning sickness didn't combine well with anxiety and (Y/n) had thrown up everything she had tried to eat since she'd been staying with her sister.

Sinking back into the sofa, (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face into the cushion. She wanted to disappear. Well, she actually wanted to go home. Being here with Anna had been nice for the first night, to spend a bit of time with her big sister, but it wasn't home. This wasn't where (Y/n)'s heart wanted to be and she was becoming desperate to be back in Bobby's arms.

But she couldn't just go back home if her and Bobby weren't on speaking terms. She figured he was still thinking things over and deciding how he felt about this, and that was okay. He needed time, but (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself.

She tried to focus on the sound of the tv that was on low in the background, but it couldn't overpower the thumping of her heart that was pulsing in her ears.

She didn't feel well.

She hadn't been feeling well for a while, presumably because she was too nervous to eat and kept throwing everything back up again.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and her hand suddenly moved down to press into her abdomen when a sudden pain jolted through her.

Her eyes snapped open and she tilted her head down to look at her stomach as if she could see through her skin and find the cause of the pain. Her eyes narrowed as her body tensed up and she waited, trying to hold her breath to see if she had just moved the wrong way and tensed a muscle. But when the pain ignited again and felt like a sharp cramp, her body started to shake.

She waited. The tv faded into static in her ears and she waited for a while, begging for this just to be her body telling her she had to go and get something to eat. But it didn't feel like it was her stomach that was cramping from lack of food. It was her abdomen, and they were turning into sharp pains.

"Oow… no, please."

Her palm pressed down into her abdomen and she slowly pushed up off the cushion and reached across for her phone on the coffee table.

Shivers coursed up and down her spine and her body started to tremble when she unlocked her phone and found Bobby's contact.

She called him without hesitation. (Y/n) had no idea whether Bobby was still at work or if he was in bed after a night shift or if he was getting ready for work. She couldn't remember what his shifts were this week and she didn't have the calendar in front of her to see what he had written down for his work pattern.

Her free hand pressed down into her abdomen and she creased forward, hating the tears that were beginning to streak down her face as she begged for Bobby to answer the phone. He couldn't always pick up if he was at work.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm glad you called."

His voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears.

There was something bright yet deflated in Bobby's tone at the same time. He was relieved (Y/n) had called. He didn't want to call her first because he wanted her to let him know when she was ready to talk, she had been the one to leave, to take a break and Bobby wanted her to take all the time she needed.

That didn't stop him from sending a message every now and then, asking if she was okay, hoping she was alright and to message him if she needed anything. He wasn't good at being on radio silence.

The last three days had been hard. Bobby could barely concentrate; he didn't know what to do with himself. And he hadn't been home except to sleep, he went to work yesterday when he was supposed to have the day off because he couldn't stand to be home when (Y/n) wasn't there; it wasn't home without her. Strange, how he had gone from feeling comfortable with his own presence to hating his home if (Y/n) wasn't in it.

"Can you help me?" The feeble tone to her voice made Bobby's heart tense and his hand curled into a fist at his side until his nails were puncturing into his palm.

"What's wrong?"

"I- I'm getting cramps… Bobby, I don't k-know what to do." It was clear she was doing her level best not to cry and that made Bobby's heart stutter.

She sounded frightened. He didn't like that, not one bit. Why did she have to be in pain when he wasn't there?

"Are you still at Anna's?" When he heard her hum in agreement he nodded to himself. "Then I'm coming to get you. I won't be long, okay? Just wait there for me, sweetheart."

Bobby hated to panic Hen when he told her she was now in charge for the remainder of the shift, again. But he didn't have time to explain. He had to get to his partner. He had to go and get (Y/n).

All Bobby could see when he was driving was (Y/n) flashing before his eyes. Had he done this? Was this his fault? If they had talked properly three days ago and didn't leave things the way they did, would this be happening now?

Oh God, was she going to lose the baby? Was God going to punish Bobby for not taking this chance the moment he got it? Was this his punishment- was God punishing him again by hurting (Y/n)?

It didn't take him long to get to Anna's house and Bobby wasn't sure he was relieved or not to find that Anna's car wasn't there. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) suffering and being in pain on her own, but at least this way he could take her to the emergency room and look after her himself.

He didn't even get chance to knock on the door. By the time he got out the car and hooked the keys on his thumb, the front door was open.

He hustled up the front steps, only now aware that he was still in his starched work trousers and cotton shirt, both of which smelled like smoke and were layered with dust. And he swiped the back of his hand across his face to smear off any smoke or dirt that was clinging to his skin.

"Alright sweetheart, I'm here." He passed over the threshold and found (Y/n) stood to one side, leaning heavily on the wall.

She didn't look well. Tears streaming down her face, lower lip wobbling, eyes hazy with pain and she had one arm deadlocked around her waist like it would do something to take the pain away.

Bobby was taken back when (Y/n) immediately pushed off the wall and almost fell into his arms. Her face burrowed down into his chest and her arm deadlocked around his waist while her other arm stayed imbedded between them, pressing into her abdomen.

"Talk to me," He murmured quietly into her hair while one hand held her arm and the other cupped the back of her neck.

"My stomach, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her face meshed into Bobby's chest with her nose squashed against his sternum and her fingers digging into his back like she thought he was going to be ripped from her hold at any moment.

"Okay, then let's get you down to the emergency room and get you checked out."

Bobby didn't like how quiet was on the way down to the hospital. He hated the silence, but he could understand that she didn't know what to say and wasn't in the mood to try and strike up small talk.

Every time he glanced to the right to check on her, he could feel his breaths running away without him whenever she winced. He watched how she had one hand resting on her stomach, but her shoulders twitched and pulled inwards whenever she had a cramp.

Although when she reached her free hand out and gripped his thigh, Bobby reached down and took her hand tightly in his.

(Y/n) stayed quiet when they got to the emergency room. As soon as they were inside, she burrowed her face into Bobby's chest again and huddled up beneath his arm that bound around her back like an iron bar of protection. She let Bobby reel off her information and what was happening and her eyes stayed closed even as he guided her across to sit down in the waiting area that was unusually quiet.

She tried to focus on the feeling of Bobby's hand gliding up and down her arm, and his lips that were attached to the top of her head. When he moved his other hand to rake up and down her thigh, she almost melted against his chest.

His touch made her feel calmer, but it didn't stop the thoughts from rushing round in her head. What if this was fate's way of making the choice for them? Maybe fate thought that this wasn't the right thing for them and was trying to take the baby away. (Y/n) didn't want that; but she wasn't so sure about Bobby.

"You're gonna be fine."

It was almost as if Bobby could read her thoughts. He stroked his hand up and down her arm and spoke into her hair while his eyes darted around the waiting room, taking everything in. He wished he had his rosary beads with him; it might have calmed them both down a little and he would of prayed.

This wasn't what Bobby wanted. He was worried about being given a second chance, but that didn't mean that he wanted (Y/n) to lose the baby. He didn't want that. This life hadn't started yet, but it was precious and Bobby didn't want to lose their baby.

When her name was called, Bobby kept his arm around her waist and let (Y/n) stay tucked up into his side. His hand squeezed her hip and his lips pressed a few dozen kisses to the side of her head as they followed after the doctor down into the assessment ward.

"Okay, the notes say you're experiencing cramps. Do you know how far along you are?"

(Y/n) sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, but when Bobby went to stand out the way, her hand immediately reached out for him. She didn't want him to sit at the back of the room or stand to one side, she wanted Bobby to stay as close as possible. She wasn't sure she could bear this if they were going to get bad news.

He was stood beside her within a second, his hand tangled in hers and his other hand cupping the side of her neck so he could kiss her temple.

"Ten weeks or so."

"Any bleeding?" She jotted down a few notes when (Y/n) shook her head. "Let's take a look, and then we'll draw some blood and go from there."

(Y/n) sat up on the bed and swung her legs over, but she couldn't look at the doctor once she lifted her shirt. Her eyes deadlocked with Bobby as he took a step closer to the bed, keeping tight hold of her hand while his other arm panned across his chest.

They both stayed silent as the doctor checked her stomach and prodded around for any sensitive areas. When she pressed on (Y/n)'s upper stomach she felt like she was going to be sick, but she knew she hadn't eaten anything to be able to do that.

She couldn't look. Once the ultrasound began, (Y/n) closed her eyes and turned her head in Bobby's direction. Maybe she shouldn't have told him. Maybe if she'd waited a few more days, this would of occurred and neither of them would of had to argue or sit in anguish for the past few days. Had this been inevitable? Or was she losing the baby because fate decided this wasn't in their cards?

"Well, bloodflow looks good, everything is in place. The good news is you're not having a miscarriage, the pains could be routine or from stress or not eating right."

When (Y/n) snapped her eyes open, she looked up but her jaw loosened when she watched Bobby's expression change. He didn't look shell-shocked or upset or confused or blank. He was smiling. (Y/n) didn't think she would see Bobby smile in regards to this pregnancy, at least not yet and she thought he would simply look relieved or squeeze her hand. He was smiling.

"Does- does that mean there's bad news?" (Y/n) pulled Bobby's hand close to her chest while his free hand started to glide up and down her thigh. She didn't miss the way he leaned towards her to try and get a look at the monitor.

It had been a long while since he'd been in this position and seen a baby up on the screen. His baby.

"Well that depends on your views on twins."

Twins. Two babies.

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine when she suddenly felt Bobby's hand cupping the back of her neck so he could lean over her. His lips attached to her temple but (Y/n) grinned when she felt him chuckling against her skin and squeezing her hand.

Reaching up, she cupped his neck and closed her eyes, tilting her temple more into his touch. This was good news. This was all good news.

***

"You sure you feel okay?"

A tender look spread across (Y/n)'s face as she headed inside and aimed for the kitchen. She could feel Bobby hovering close behind her, following her lead inside their home.

"I'm fine," She reassured, reaching her hand behind her until she found his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She'd had some medication at the hospital to relax her and some anti sickness meds so she could actually have something to eat. She felt a lot better and because the cramps had gone and her blood works had come back fine, she had been sent home. She was fine. The babies were fine.

She dropped her bag from her shoulder and slumped it onto the kitchen table, but her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to one side when she looked down.

"What's this?"

Bobby had written her a letter? He didn't usually write letters to anyone, he wasn't even one for writing long text messages, he preferred to talk or argue or rant in person rather than on paper. But when (Y/n) picked up the letter which had her name in Bobby's cursive handwriting along the top, she couldn't resist.

It was addressed to her, if it weren't she would have inquired but left the letter alone.

She jumped when she felt Bobby's hands on her hips and his chin perching down on her shoulder, but she continued to read the letter. If he didn't want her to he would of said something or tore the letter from her hands. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he rhythmically squeezed her hips every now and then while he patiently waited for her to read his words.

His chest pressed down into her back like he was moulding himself around her like a blanket and it was comforting.

But (Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks when she read his words.

He didn't have to feel nervous. He didn't have to have doubts or feel like he wasn't going to be enough for her and the baby- both babies. Bobby was always going to be everything (Y/n) wanted and needed, and their kids were going to feel exactly the same.

When she placed the letter down on the table next to her bag, (Y/n) spun around in Bobby's arms and looped her arms around his neck. She pushed up on her toes until she could attach her lips to the junction behind his ear but she felt the way he shivered when he felt her tears soaking into his skin.

Something soft crossed Bobby's face and he smiled tearily when he felt (Y/n) murmuring "I'm sorry," into his neck. As if she had anything to apologise for.

"That's my line."

Everything Bobby hadn't been able to say three days ago was written down in that letter. Every worry, every bad thought, every reason why he didn't feel like this was the life he deserved. It was all there for her to see, but right at the bottom of the note, he'd written another line of truth.

He told her the truth when he said he was happy. He may have been overwhelmed with anxiety, but he was still happy. He loved (Y/n) to the end of the Earth and having a baby with her was a dream Bobby never thought he would get.

"I can't help worrying, or believing that I don't deserve you or them. But I can promise to be here and do this with you. I want to be the best dad I can for them; for you."

#imagine #911 imagine #bobby nash #bobby nash imagine #bobby nash x reader #bobby x reader #evan buckley

240 notes · View notes

supernatural-bias · 2 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of demons, ghosts, over all spooky stuff

↳ song: sweet dreams in sea major—miracle musical

masterlist!

• Shane leads an interesting life

• Er, afterlife, I suppose, considering he had only sprouted his black, fluffy wings after being plucked from the land of the living

• But I digress

• Besides—he was happy

• He had never been the kind of demon to engage in all that blood torture and acult shit anyways. Instead, he took pleasure in harmlessly scaring assholes or the occasion teenager that he would stumble upon durring the witching hour—although that was mostly code for a three am dunkin' doughnuts run

• "The munchies are a serious thing, Ryan. What can I say?" He had shrugged nonchalauntly once, grinning goofily down at his friend that had just been asking about the bags under his eyes—which resulted in tales of his midnight snack runs. You stood with your arms crossed not too far away, shaking your head slowly, but Shane could see the hint of a smile tugging at your lips

• "You really meet to get better sleep, dude. I'd hate to postpone filming for TMS, but you know I will if you aren't up to it. Doesn't mean that Steven won't give you hell for not letting him do his bit with Ricky though." Ryan had just sighed, rubbing at his own eyes as if the conversation itself had tired him out. But just like how Shane had noticed with you, he could see the ravenette resisting the urge to smile

• "I mean, insomnia is the first sign of possession after all. Can't have a supernatural being living inside of the company, our fans would give us hell." At last came his joke. It earned a snort from you, pleasing Ryan, whose eyes crinkled at the edges pleasantly

• Shane just grinned sharply

• If only you two knew

• That was another fun thing about his chosen predicament

• I mean, come on. A demon who's best friends with someone terrified of them? All the while pretending he doesn't believe anything of the sort? At this point, he should just up and leave for Juliard. A degree in acting was a shoe in for sure with how he had been living the past few years of his eternal damnation

• And it was all the more fun with you there as well, the yin to his and Ryan's yang. Always ready with just the right thing to say in the moment or a shitty pun you had heard the other day. Throw Steven in the mix and the four of you were thick as fucking theives

• There were some downsides though. With life (er, death?) there always was

• Ghost Files was one of the things Shane looked forward to the most at Watcher. Doing Buzzfeed Unsolved had been amazing, and even though he was an inhuman being that could crumble businesses with a flick of his pointed tail if he wanted to—demons did play a part in evil corporations after all—it felt liberating to build Watcher from the ground up with Ryan, Steven, and you.

• Plus, there was the added bonus of more shows now—one of which included puppets. He particularly enjoyed that one

• But Ghost Files was the crowned jewel. The one thing everyone—crew, audience, staff, even cameramen—looked forward to

• What can I say. Old habits die hard—and most of these people had been doing Buzzfeed Unsolved since they could properly hold a mic. It felt good to do something familiar

• And that's what it had been like for Shane. He was excited, no, downright giddy, to be back in the element of ghosts and ghouls

• It was fun to watch you and Ryan skirt around an entirely ghost free house, nerves on end as the two of you jumped every little noise. Most of which Shane made

• That's not to say that the three of you didn't find haunted places. Oh no. You most certainly did. The Sally House was the most memorable of them

• That demon really had been ready to kill Ryan and you that night. Right on the pentagram in the basement. But Shane had been able to coax (read: threaten) it into not doing anything but flash a flashlight once or twice

• But sometimes, his true form wasn't enough to spook off the spooks, so to say. It was rare, but occasionally some brave, or incredibly stupid, ghosts would try their luck at laying a hand on you or Ryan

• That got them a one way ticket to the second death they would ever have the pleasure of experiencing. The one delt out by Shane being arguably worse than anything that happened in their mortal lifetime

• He cared for his people. It was as simple as that. So what if that made him unethical as a demon. He played around with hand puppets half the time for fucks sake and he enjoyed it. He was far from an ethical demon at this point, and he was fine with that

• Didn't mean that having to ward off spirits didn't put him into a bad mood though

• Shane would probably never admit it, but the idea of something hurting you two while he wasn't there to protect you left a taste as bad as brimstone in his mouth

• "Shane? Dude, you're looking pale. Well paler than usual." You had stopped in the middle of filming once to comment on his appearance, trying to hide the way you sucked at your cheeks with anxiety. "Don't tell me you've finally cracked and begun to get scared by all this."

• Ryan had smiled at your joke. But the smile slowly slid off his face as he took another look at Shane, who was not laughing in the slightest

• "That Taco Bell we ate earlier didn't settle well, that's all." Shane's excuse was flimsy, but he couldn't care less right then. He just wanted to stay as close to you two and the crew as possible in case another spirit tried anything

• "Alright. But if you need to say the word and we can take a break." You said steadily, jabbing Ryan in the gut playfuly when he didn't automatically back you up

• "Yeah! Yeah, what they said. And jeez you didn't have to hit me so hard. Asshole—"

• "Oh you wanna go Bergara?" You had laughed, comically winding your arm up like Popeye used to do in the cartoons. Ryan scoffed, donning his Ricky Goldsworth voice as he began to fake fight with you

• The sight was enough to bring a small smile to Shane's face. The two of you always managed to do that

• "Nerds." He chuckled, bad mood already begining to lift a little

• "Loser." Both you and Ryan threw back the insult at the same time, laughing all the while

217 notes · View notes

chaotic-toasters · 9 months ago

Text

wHy wOulD yOu dO tHiS iN tHe LiViNg rOoM?

Caitlin Foord x Teen!Reader (Platonic)

TW: Alludes (mentions of?) to smut, no actual graphic descriptions or anything

Minors DNI just to be safe

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

"-No, of course not," you scoffed to your former teammate as you walked onto the driveway. "That's summin' Kyra would do, not me."

Jen smiled. "Well, you might do it if you're sleep deprived. You're nearly as crazy as Kyra when you don't get your rest."

You climbed the steps, pulling your key out of your pocket. "I take offense to that, Beats. No one likes being compared to Kyra, ever. Don't tell her I said tha-aUGH!"

You didn't know what you were expecting when you opened the door, but it was not your sister engaging in... sexual activities with your third captain.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" your hands flew up to cover your eyes as you stumbled about, hitting your back on the doorframe and falling over as Jen sat on the other end of the line, confused. "CAITLIN!"

The frantic rustling of clothing sounded out. "I-"

"wHy wOuLd yOu dO tHiS iN tHe LiViNg rOoM?" You shrieked, voice pitch rapidly changing as you shot to your feet. "YoUr liTtLe siStEr lIvEs wItH yOU!"

Caitlin's Aussie accent was thick with embarrassment. "Y/N, you said you wouldn't be home 'till tomorrow!"

You screamed, blindly sprinting out of the house, phone forgotten on the floor with your hands clawing at your eyes. You didn't even know where you were going, but you from the aggressive honking of cars, you'd crossed the street at least twice. Thankfully for you, your feet had brought you to a familiar house in St. Albans.

"KIM! KIM! KIIIIIM!" you sobbed, desperately banging on the wooden door as the earlier image lingered in your mind. "KIIII-HIII-HIM!"

Your captain yanked the door open, clad in old Arsenal sweats and a jumper. "What happened, Y/N? Are you alright?"

"Caitlin and and and Katie THEYAUAHAUHAUHLBLUHUUHUH!" You babbled, hands rubbing frantically at your eyes like someone had pepper-sprayed you in the face. "AUAHAABUHHUH!"

"Caitlin and Katie what, sweetheart?" Kim pulled you inside worriedly, moving you into a sitting position on the floor and joining you after closing the door. "I can't understand you."

"THEY WERE HAVING SE- SEH—"

Kim gently pried your hands from your eyes as you launched your face into her shoulder, lips pressed into a thin line. "Did you knock, kiddo?"

"THEY WERE IN THE LIVING ROOM!" you cried hysterically, shaking your head as you tried to shake the ghost image. "I DON'T 'WIKE IT!"

The Scot choked on her spit. "What?!"

As you screamed bloody murder into her shoulder, Kim reached for her phone, dialing your national team captain's number. "Steph? Can you and Leah go to Caitlin's flat? She and Katie need a stern talkin' to."

"Why?" you could hear the defender ask.

"They were doing it in the living room. Y/n's in bits."

"Put Y/N on the phone."

Kim obliged, holding the phone to your ear.

"Hey, kiddo—"

"THEY WERE DOING—THEY WERE— THEY AUHHAUGHH—" you cried again, struggling to free your hands from Kim's firm grasp. "I STILL SEE IT, I STILL SEE ITTT!"

Steph sighed. "We're on our way."

"Thanks, Steph, I'll talk to you later. Bye," Kim hung up the phone, wrapping you up in a tight hug as you squirmed. "It's okay, Y/N, it's okay."

You dug your face deeper into her shoulder with a whine. "I don't wanna go back there, Kimmy. I don't wanna."

She murmured her agreement. "You can stay in the spare room tonight, kiddo. I'll have Steph and Leah pick up some of your stuff, and we'll figure out the rest tomorrow."

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

"Hey, Y/N, how's it‐ why are your eyes so red?" Cloe questioned as she sat next to you in her own cubby, concerned. "Have you been crying?"

"Maybe," you answered hoarsely. "I don't know."

Steph whispered something into the Canadian's ear, your teammates eyes filling with surprise and pity. "Oof, sorry, kid."

"Me too, Cloe," you mumbled miserably. "Me too."

The last of the gunners filed into the changing room, your sister one of them. "Y/N, could you step outside so we ca—"

You screamed at the top of your lungs, jolting away and diving into Cloe's arms. "NO!"

"Give her time, Cait," Steph advised, directing her away from you. "You might've scarred her for life."

You sniffled in Cloe's comforting hold. "Why did you have to be the naked one?"

Katie shrugged apologetically. "She is a pillow princess."

You shrieked. "EWWW!"

What am I doing

#Woso x reader #Caitlin Foord x Reader #Caitlin Foord #Arsenal wfc x Reader #Arsenal women x Reader #Arsenal women #Arsenal wfc #kim little #cloe lacasse

416 notes · View notes

killsbil · 9 months ago

Text

His Muse

Pairing : Ghost x Secretary Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, choking, ghost jacking off in his car. Ghost driving for some damn reason

18+ ONLY MDNI

( YES, HETEROCHROMIA GHOST. CRY)

Now, you were a secretary for a special operations force called Task Force 141. While being the secretary, they had strict rules, of course, it wasn't JUST for you, but they weren't anything hard to follow honestly. It's not like you were some damn horny teenager, you were just trying to get by with this job. You wanted some job that could help you real good...and somehow you landed with this one, being the secretary, you only had to organize nearly everything, write reports, and emails, keep up with data, and do whatever Captain Pierce asks of you.

None of the members spoke to you as they never really saw you, well they did, but you didn't pay attention. Your face was always focused on the computer, typing away, but hey? What's a girl gotta do to get by yeah? One task force menber caught your eye, Simon Riley, he was quiet, and when he spoke his voice was cold, a little too serious. But when he looked at you, you wouldn't look back. He was honestly scary looking, honestly, he looked like he could just snap you in half if you said something wrong. You never spoke to him, he's always busy, you're Always busy... and either way, what would you say to him? The only thing you could think about saying was something about his eyes, they were pretty, one eye was brown, the other grayish blue. You had never seen heterochromia in person before, it was beautiful. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that... Right? Y/n had thought, it was not like he would kill her for that.

Noticing the time, and one of the recent emails from Captain Pierce, she had to bring a folder of mission data to the meeting...in that room ..with all those people. That wasn't scary...at all, y/n unlocked her cabinet, reached in the middle for a file, and closed it back, locking it.

She'd walk down the hallway and then turn to her right, knocking on a door, the sign next to the door would read "conference room". Through the window she saw a black male, with short curly hair, he was leaning back in his chair, he turned to her and smiled for a split second. his eyes went back to somebody who was talking, Shortly after the talk was done, y/n was allowed into the room, she walked over to Captain Pierce, placing the folder down as she turned around, she saw an empty chair next to a task force member named soap, he was nice, but all discussions y/n had with him were short. Was that Ghost's chair? Noticing y/n's stare, soap smiled, his other hand which rested behind a chair pointed down the hall.

Usually, he didn't do this, he would ignore her if she came in during meetings because she wasn't supposed to hear a thing about the meetings, y/n snapped out of it as she left, closing the door behind her. Now, she didn't like him like a crush, nor was she a fan of him, she just wanted to tell him her lil compliment.

Y/n went down the hall and turned, seeing a man pour him some coffee, it was a ghost, and he needed a breather. Y/n leaned on the wall as she watched him. Honestly ..he was so.. it was unexplainable but ...the girls that get it, get it. "You just gonna stand there and look stupid?" He said, not even turning around "Oh! Sorry I-'' she was about to explain before he finished her sentence" Didn't mean to," he said..pouring coffee into his coffee cup.

"How did you know what I was gonna say?" She asked him, as she walked closer, leaning on the counter "Cause that's what every secretary before you said " he said, his voice was cold, it was like he was just...tired of playing this game, over and over. "Every secretary before me? What happened to them?" Y/n asked, now...she was curious! She had forgotten all about her compliment. Ghost would let out a sigh as he turned around. "they all got terminated, fired. Breaking rules.. or they were spies" he said, he had some skull balaclava on, not the full mask, ghost would place his cup down leaning on the counter.

"you're gonna end up just like them, you're gonna take a bribe and spy, or break that rule." He added on, he read her like a book, y/n though, she scrunched up her face in confusion, somehow feeling a little disrespectful "Okay mr mysterious" she said with a slight eye roll. "Ghost." He corrected her, his voice firm "Lieutenant ghost." He said. Y/n's eyes widened when she realized his rank, now she felt a little demotion coming for that eye roll. Ghost's face was blank, with no expression, just those eyes staring at her as if he was reading her like a book. " What rule did they break" Y/n was a little interested in the lore now.. she was glad she was on break, otherwise Captain Pierce would have her head.

"Someone lacks critical thinking skills.." he mumbled, who invited him to the bitch fest? "No dating rule. They come up to me just like you did ...no ill intent, ask questions...then there's that compliment, and it starts something" he said, each word he got close to her, y/n leaned back against the counter as his hands rested on the counter, trapping her, his eyes stared down at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm gonna say this once... Don't treat this like it's some game like you can just sway a coworker with this innocent act, be professional" he said, he was tired. But was he tired of those girls just .. treating him like he was an award, an object for pleasure, or just....the betrayal, tired of having hope, letting someone close, and then...boom.

Well, the answer was he was just... Tired of the unprofessionalism "Huh -" y/n noticed how close he was, her heart beat so damn fast, hell! She wasn't trying to seduce him, she just wanted to give him that compliment." I...I just wanted to say your eyes are pretty. I never saw them up close. I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to pursue you Lieutenant" she said, and ghost was wrong, well, half wrong. He shook his head "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Run along." He said turning his back to her and going back to his coffee...

Y/n was so confused...what the hell? She was NOT trying to seduce this man," um...right." she said walking back to her desk, part of her kind of liked that. But the other part was so damn confusing. Now, for the rest of her break, she was on the phone with her best friend until...she felt her phone vibrate, from a text message.. sent an unknown number. "Girl hold on...some number just texted me..." She said, putting her on speaker, "bitch don't you have it where unsaved numbers can't contact you??" She said, "Girl yes I do, that's why I'm confused."

She looked at the text message reading You're Loud. we can hear you down here. Now she knew it wasn't Captain Pierce because she had his number saved. "Is it your boss?" She asked "No? I have his number saved, remember he gave us that ride back to my house?" Y/n said "Oh shit...right Anyway, when is he gonna let me climb that tree-" she said "Bye Audrey, you are not getting me fired because you're sexually attracted to my boss- WHO COULD BE YOUR DAD," y/n said "call me a panther. I'm ready to take it..." Audrey said. "Bye ...get off my phone.. you're distracting me, I'll see you later." Y/n hung up on her sighing

She was a hot mess, Audrey was the friend with no filter, but anyway. She would look at the message rolling her eyes a little, y/n texted the number back saying Sorry about that, but who is this and how did you get my number? only for it to be left on read for about 50 minutes. She just rolled her eyes going back to organizing meetings and events. She hummed, and of course..responding to emails, she kind of neglected them.

Shortly after that, her phone lit up as she got a text message that said Lieutenant Ghost. with that she saved the contact. She wanted to mess with him a little, to ease the weird tension between them Responding 56 minutes later? now nice of you. She would text him. Yes, she thought she ate that. This time she got a quick response It's disrespectful to be on your phones during meetings, and you're counting the minutes Ms L/n? Y/n saw that, was she just eaten up respectfully? And Ms? SHE'S NOT EVEN MARRIED? Oh.. you could just call me Y/n, and I'm not married Lieutenant.. it would be Miss.. she would respond to his text Yeah YEAH she ate him up. noted. Would be the last text message he even sent.

soon came the end of the day, when everyone left, y/n was the only one left she had to stay back and respond to some emails, once she was done she'd lock her computer and would put any paperwork she left out, back in the respective drawers, when she went to the door she had seen the rain attacking the streets, this caused a loud annoyed groan from y/n, she didn't bring a damn umbrella cause she swore it wouldn't rain today. She suddenly felt someone behind her... who was left here? Was she not alone? As soon as she turned, she saw that it was Lieutenant Ghost, holding an umbrella at her "How far is your car..." He said. Now he didn't want her getting drenched in the rain, that's the nicest he could be at least "Oh no- my friends picking me up..." She said, smiling. That smile unthawed that heart of his, just a little. " It's 11:00 pm L/n, normal people are asleep by now," he said.

"So...you're not normal?" She asked, her smile getting wider, ghost just raised an eyebrow.."let me take you home." He said opening the door for her, he didn't exactly answer that question of hers ``You can drive? Gaz said ...you can't drive, you shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel" She said, if you saw the look on y/n's face, she looked horrified. "Do you want a ride home or do you want a sneak peek at the next little mermaid." He was getting drenched waiting for her, y/n laughed at his comment, and she stepped under the umbrella and followed him to his car, which was an eight-seater, and she mumbled sorry since she felt bad for him getting drenched. Ghost just got in behind the wheel, y/n turned to him asking him a question "Hey... Lieutenant... How come you're staying back?? Wouldn't you be sleeping about this time?" She asked "I could ask you the same, but I was getting training in.. that's all," he said, but the look on his face said differently.

Now ghost? He took care of his body, he had...muscle, a lot of it.. it was even visible when he wasn't flexing. Y/n would stare at his arms and hands as he drove, then slowly, her eyes moved back to his very own beautiful eyes. "Are you sure? You have this look on your face... Like you're not here mentally.." She said, Ghost stopped at a light, turning to her "You know, some questions aren't supposed to be asked," he said. "Well- I'm here for" "No you're not." He corrected her, internally, Ghost felt like he couldn't speak to anyone, it was a waste of time. "you can't handle anything I would tell you. that's if I did." He said, shaking his head, "How come? I'm helpful- I can handle it." She said " No." He repeated. "Please - I promise I can lift a weight off your shoulders" she begged, she wanted to help him, she felt like he could use a friend honestly "No. I'm not gonna say it again." Ghost said, sounding annoyed.

"Everyone does- "Y/n tried to speak, but she got cut off " Y/N. For the last time no, don't waste your time. You'd only hurt yourself..you'd be useless in this situation" He said, his voice like a stab directly into the heart, after that, y/n got quiet..then she furrowed her eyebrows turning to him "You don't need to be rude." She said Ghost looked confused, he didn't expect her to talk back "And I'm not useless... I'm a great listener! I don't know why but, ever since I've talked to you, you've done nothing but assume the worst about me. I just want to be your friend!" She said, Ghost started driving again, going silent before he deeply sighed "Colleagues, especially us, can't be friends. You're gonna be just like-" "I'm not like them- I don't wanna use you like a boy toy! I just think you're cool for fucks sake !" Y/n was starting to get so damn tired of his mindset.

"I understand you have this...wound but you can't just make it seem like I'm some weirdo... I'm not gonna befriend you, sleep with you, then leave! I think you're cool! " She said, "Besides, friends don't do any of that!" She added nodding. "If I say yes, are you gonna stop asking to be my friend?" He said, annoyed, he did feel a little better about her now that he knew she wasn't gonna try anything. "Yes!" Said smiling. "Does this mean I get to know your name?" She said, her smile all big.. ghost would let out a large...long dramatic sigh "Simon." He said, "That's a cute name !" She said, going to his contact, and changing his name, Ghost watched her shaking his head "But don't call me that at work. At least keep some professionalism" he said "Does that mean you'll call me by my first name?" She ignored what he said

"Did you hear what I said?" He stopped the car, turning to her with a serious look" Yes...." She said, looking away. The whole ride she didn't look him in the eyes, Ghost noticed that "look at me ." He asked, instead y/n would turning to look at a tree, Ghost would park between two cars as he gripped the girl's jaw, making her look at him. "What did I say?" He asked her, y/n stared in his eyes, fuck. She got nervous, butterflies filled her stomach as she bit her lips "Umm.. call you Lieutenant something. During work ...professional stuff..yeah." she said. Suddenly the tension between them got hot..

Ghost sighed, looking at her pretty lips a little too long.. "fuck.." he said"what... Do I have something on my face?" She said furrowing her eyebrows, confused "Nah..." He said just ..staring, was he gonna kiss her? "Hey- I mean...if you wanna kiss me .. do it, yolo?" She said, honestly she thought 3 things were gonna happen, he headbutts the fuck out of her, kisses her, or or or. Well, scratch those two things.

"That'd be unprofessional.." he said, his eyes never leaving her lips. "Oh for fucks sake then fire me for this." She lifted his mask to his lips, kissing him, and she held his face. The next thing you knew she was on his lap making out with the masked man, it got hot...he gripped her waist as her kiss got serious. A moan came from y/n as Ghost's hand slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Suddenly y/n heard her name being called, she snapped out of it looking at ghosts.

"Bloody hell. You look like you just saw a ghost." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion "I'm sorry Lieutenant, what were you saying..?" Y/n said blinking a couple of times "I said did you hear what I said?" He said "Oh yeah ..professionalism." she said, sighing "No, I asked you for your address?" Now Ghost was confused "What's with you? You were just staring off?" He said, looking her up and down. "Nothing...I could've just sworn... Something had happened. But it didn't? I was just imagining it." Y/n said, "But I live...." She told him his address, she only lived a couple blocks down from him.

Eventually, y/n and ghost pulled up to her pretty house, she watched the rain fall with a smile, and then she turned to Ghost "Hey.. I have a question lieutenant.." she said "Simon, we are out of work.." he said, this girl fought to be his friend and get the privilege of knowing and calling him by his name... Now she's not? "But lieutenant sounds better," she said, aggravating Simon, and she knew she was. "God, you're annoying..what is it? What's your question" he said, sighing.. he was getting used to y/n honestly.. She was cute in a sense.

"Can we take a photo ? I wanna put it in your contact.. " she said, Ghost sighed "..." He looked at her, and the look he gave told her no, but ... She wanted a yes, she pleaded, doing the little look and all "fine." Ghost, a dog trained to kill mercilessly, cracked to a secretary pleading for a photo "but don't show anyone it. Got it?" He said

"Thank you, Simon!" She giggled and hugged him, this caught Him off guard, he wasn't.. the type of person who did physical affection, but his arms wrapped around her, hugging her back as a part of him wanted to cry, she felt so nice and warm. Something so comforting, he had the urge to protect her, the urge to lock her in a cage and keep her all to himself. "Ghost..?" She said as he spaced out, his head resting on her shoulder, his grip was firm but allowed her to move

she pulled back slightly reaching for his face, and that's when his eyes snapped to her, he released her looking away.. suddenly y/ns giggle was heard "You're a hugger." She said, "I'm a soldier." He replied she shook her head "No no, deep down that hug, you cherished it..that moment was something you're gonna remember" she said, he rolled his eyes turning his head to him"What are you- some psychologist?" He squinted.

"Oh no - I went to college for ( insert major of your choice) I could never do psychology! But my friend Audrey is a psychologist so I know a couple of things." She said proudly, Ghost nodded, he knew to remember Audrey "Come on and take this picture..you got some sleep to get." He said, "Aww you care!" She said messing with him. "Y/n." He said, "Okay okay!" She laughed, his care filled with her joy and giggles... Something for a change ... Maybe she wasn't like the others, well he hoped so.

She leaned in, getting him in the frame, but he barely was in it "Oh let me readjust!" She said she moved a little, and it didn't fix. This process went on for 6 minutes. "Note to self.. don't let y/n take pictures ." He sighed "Just... Sit on my lap for the picture." He said. Y/n grew flustered, "but I could crush you-" she said trying to find a better alternative, Ghost looked offended " ' I can lift you easy, you'll find out someday..But hurry up." She said,

she sighed, climbing into his lap hovering, getting ready to take the picture, ghost glared, putting his hands onto her waist as he forced her down with ease as if she was some kind of lightweight to him." see. not that hard to sit down and listen. Atta girl, now take the picture." He said, atta girl? Sit down and listen. Y/n was flustered by his words... Whew lord she needed to act right .. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she took the picture smiling. She didn't know what Ghost did, but she took it.

Y/n had accidentally dropped her phone, she moved back against Ghost as she bent down while sitting on him "What are you doing-" he said, his heart dropping as he felt her right above something she shouldn't be on. "Well I dropped my phone, so he still!" She said she was the only one moving around, god, she didn't mean to grind but she was doing it! Ghost bit down on his lips as he resisted the urge to just.. thrust up, suddenly he felt her warmth...that didn't help. "Y/n... Please just ...look normally.." he said, his voice cracking

"Shut up I almost got it!" She said, her lower body hovering above the said area before roughly sitting down, this made Ghost tilt his head up as he roughly gripped her waist forcing her to sit up. "Have you got that damn phone yet?" He said, his chest heaving up and down. "Yeah! I got it as soon as you pulled me up, thanks again for the ride Simon, I'll pay you back I promise...are you gonna watch me go in my house?" She asked, Simon just nodded as he watched her get up, and out of the car leaving to go inside her house

GHOST POV

fuck... I know she didn't mean to do that but... Shit. Why am I so riled up over something like that? Get it together lieutenant. He thought, he looked down at his boner as he sighed...she's in her house ...and it's not like y/n could see through his windows. He sighed, unbuckling his pants, and pulling down his boxers just to see his erect cock spring out, pre cum nearly leaking out, he removed his gloves sighed, closed them strokes his shaft. You're probably wondering what he imagined, of course, it was y/n, he tilted his head back only to see y/n bouncing on his cock, a moaning and teary mess.

He bucked his hips up into his hand as he visualized how pretty her boobs would look bouncing every time she did, looking down just to see a bulge , he was the one causing it. Her whines and moans, her pleading for him to go faster, rougher, to choke her. And he did just that, then...a word came out. "love you so much!" she said, instead of shocking ghost, in this scenario he took his mask off begining to mark her up with bite marks and hickeys. Y/n gripped his short blonde shaggy hair. His thrusts became passionate as he Whined "so good..so good .. nice and warm for me" he said in a shakey voice... Finally, he came A little too much, the little scenario ended as he opened his eyes to him being in his car parked out by y/ns house, he cleaned himself up. Simon has a moment of clarity... He just sighed, before speaking to himself "I'm setting myself up again..." He said before fixing himself, driving off.

433 notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 1 year ago

Text

Dark Red

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 5.6k summary: The Task Force 141 goes out drinking, and you wind up on your stomach in Ghost's bed. If you knew it would only take a few rounds of drinks, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. (eventual smut, lots of family 141 interactions beforehand) a/n: This is my first COD fic and also the first thing I've written since May, so go easy on me if it's ooc pls xx. If you like this fic please give a follow or a reblog, I'm fixing up my blog and I'll be writing a lot more Simon. beta read by @margowritesthings warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (smut, fingering, size difference, doggy)

masterlist

Your dress is wrapped tightly around your frame, held up by tiny golden chains that drape over your shoulders. It's dark green, and just barely covers your ass. It's definitely not the tactical gear that you’re used to wearing. You swallow thickly, pulling it down over your thighs as much as possible as you glance over yourself in the mirror. You barely recognize the reflection in front of you. No eye black, no tac-vest or combat boots. Tonight you’re not a soldier, you’re a civilian.

Price had arranged a night out to celebrate the 141’s latest win. He invited the Task Force alongside some allies for drinks at a club of all places, figuring everyone deserved to unwind. You were hesitant at first, but the boys all reassured you it would be just a few drinks.

Once all the little details of your outfit are in place, you give yourself a onceover before pushing open Price’s bathroom door. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price are all leaning over the kitchen counter, speaking quietly about the mission. They smile, oblivious to you as you exit the bathroom, feeling a bit self conscious about the dress Kate insisted you wear. That is until Ghost catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye and quietens. He turns, and you watch his back straighten, hands in the pockets of his jeans as his eyes slowly run up and down your body. Something about that stare… you wonder if Ghost would ever see you the way you see him. It's been years now of you pining after him. You could never tell him. He’s your lieutenant, and besides, you’ve heard what happens to the recruits who make a move on Ghost. Every single one of them was harshly rejected and dropped from the program. You can't compromise your job, especially not for someone who doesn’t want you back.

Ghost stares, and the other three men turn to you in sync. A fierce blush blooms across your face as four pairs of eyes land on you. Ghost is wearing that familiar balaclava, the one he wears out in public or around the base. It hides everything but his eyes, and you stare into their swirling depths for a moment before the eye contact becomes too much. You clear your throat, glancing down over your dress.

“Too much…?” You whisper, questioning your choice of fashion and makeup.

“No…Not too mu–” Ghost is cut off as Soap lunges forward with a smile bigger than Texas and slaps you on the arm.

“Lookin’ good, bonnie lass!” Soap laughs. He looks nice himself. You’ve only seen him in sweats around the base, but tonight all four of your teammates are dressed to the nines.

“Not so bad yourself, Johnny.” You smile, clutching a small purse to your hip.

“We ready then, Cap?” Gaz asks, glancing up from his phone for a moment, “Laswell just got there, said she brought König.”

“Yes.” Price smiles at you, checking his watch, “I've ordered two Ubers. Should both be here.”

You follow them outside, smiling and nodding to Ghost as he holds the door open for you. The Captain and Gaz take the first car while you file into the second with Ghost and Soap. Soap sits in the front, leaving you in the back with Ghost. Your lieutenant is quiet most of the ride over, letting Johnny fill the silence, which he does. But it's hard to focus on Soap talking. You’re hyper aware of the eyes on you and how exposed you are. Your breasts are practically pushed up into your face, and the dress suddenly feels all too tight. You’re used to fighting, not celebrating, not partying. You take a few deep breaths, knowing that once you get a few drinks in your system you’ll feel better.

“You alright?”

Your eyes flick up. It’s Ghost, just barely over a whisper. His eyes are fixated on something out of the window, but he still must have noticed your anxiety. You nod.

“Just nervous.” You admit, “I’m not used to all this.” You whisper, gesturing down to your dress and matching strappy heels, then to the car that is driving you through the nightlife. Ghost smirks under his mask.

“Me neither. Bourbon helps.” He says.

“You drink bourbon?” You ask, glancing over. Soap hasn’t noticed your little conversation and continues to chat up the driver. You hadn’t taken Ghost as a bourbon man, he’s piqued your curiosity.

“I fancy Kentucky.” He remarks. You chuckle.

“Don’t let him know that.” You nod your head in Soap’s direction.

“Never.” Ghost smirks, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Your eyes fixate on the tattoos lining his left arm, just briefly exposed. You force your eyes away, knowing if you stare too long you’ll get caught up in the intricate pattern. The thought of running your fingers over those tattoos lingers in your head, soothing you enough to make the ride.

—

The club is nice. Colored lights stream from the ceiling, a steady thrum of music vibrates lowly through the walls. You take in your surroundings, watching people drink, and dance with one another. It's a bit dark, hard to make out faces. You take note of all the exits while following behind Gaz and Price, both leading you all towards a closed off section of the club. Laswell is already there waiting along with her wife and König. The man must have already had a few drinks because he’s more relaxed than you've ever seen him. König’s eyes immediately land on you, and flutter down to the short cut off of your dress. You gasp as a burly figure pushes past you, separating you from König’s eyes. Ghost. He stands between the two of you and starts unclipping the velvet rope that separates you from the VIP section, much to the bouncer’s frustration. You blush, looking back to König whose eyes are sheepishly staring at the floor. Ghost must have pulled out his famous deadly glare. Your cheeks burn red.

“There you are!” Laswell exclaims, motioning for the bouncer to lift the velvet rope that secures her area. No one seems to have noticed the little interaction between Ghost and König, thankfully.

“VIP?” You chuckle. “Was that some CIA shit?” You ask, passing into the nicer, more secluded area of the club. A couch wraps around the corner wall, a table sitting in front of it.

“Afraid not.” She smiles, wrapping an arm around her wife’s shoulders. You take a seat on the couch, watching as Ghost motions for Price to follow him towards the bar.

“We’ll be back.” He mumbles. Price pats Ghost on the shoulder as you watch them leave.

“So, König?” Soap asks as he sits down, nodding towards the masked man. You take note that a beanie rests atop his head in place of his usual tac helmet.

“Hmm?” König asks, suddenly alert. His eyes dart until they land on Soap.

“How many drinks is it gonna take for you to shed the mask?” The scot asks. König grows quiet, tightly gripping his beer bottle by the neck.

“Nein, I do not–” König begins before Soap jumps up, fist down on the table.

“Nine?!” Soap laughs, “Keep em comin’, Ghost!” Soap hollers towards the bar. König shakes his head profusely.

“No, that is not what I meant.” König tries to clear the situation up, but is drowned out by noise as Gaz and Soap laugh together. Laswell shoots you a knowing glance. You feel for her, being the only woman to watch these children.

“You went with the dress I suggested.” Laswell notes, a proud smile gracing her lips.

“I did.” You remark, blushing, “It's a bit tighter than what I’m used to.” You admit, sitting up straighter as a few from the table look back to you.

“That's the point.” Laswell laughs, shooting you a quick wink.

Before you can ask what she means by that, Ghost and Price return with two trays of shots. Half the shots are a golden, bronze color and the others are crystal clear. You raise an eyebrow as Ghost sits down beside you.

“Get your bourbon?” You ask.

“Had three down at the bar. You’ve got some catching up to do, yeah?”

As everyone plucks shots from the trays, Ghost slides three in front of you with his knuckles. Two bourbons and one of the clear liquor.

“What's this?” You ask, picking up the shot and holding it under your nose. It burns your nostrils, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with a sharp sting.

“Patrón.” Ghost replies with a smirk. Your eyes follow as he grabs a clear shot from the tray with one hand, and pulls his mask up over his lips with the other. You’ve never seen his lips before. He brings the small glass to his lips, and you try to memorize the shape of his them, the jut of his jaw. It's gone in a flash as he downs the shot like it’s water before pulling his balaclava down over his chin.

“Your turn.” He smirks, giant hand pushing the shot glass towards you.

You follow suit, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol slide down your throat. You grimace at its strength, making a sour face.

“Fuckin hell.” You cough.

“You’ve got a bit of catching up to do.” Laswell points out, nodding down the table. You notice as Gaz takes the last shot from the first tray and your eyes boggle.

—

An hour later

Steady music thumps through the building. It feels slow, sensual. Maybe it’s because you’re wasted, but your confidence is through the roof as you make your way across the dance floor. Your eyes are locked onto your group, specifically searching for Ghost. The more alcohol that enters your system, the more you find yourself staring at him, noticing his every movement, every breath. You’d never allow yourself these thoughts while sober– the thought of wanting your Lieutenant is out of the question when your mind is clear, but right now it’s not. Your eyes search for him as you make your way back to the VIP section.

“Lt?” You ask, sliding back onto the velvet sofa.

“Went for a piss.” Soap exclaims.

“Why don’t you go meet him in the bathroom, maybe he could finally bend ya ov–” Johnny starts.

“Soap!” Price cuts him off harshly. Soap only laughs, looking down the table to Gaz and the Captain. You look between the two of them, absolutely oblivious to the jokes that have been passed around the table all night.

“Oh, come on, Captain! He wants her and everyone knows it. We all see that shriveled up, cold, dead heart meltin’ at the sight of this bonnie.” Soap points to you.

“Bloody hell, we bet on it!” Gaz chuckles, adjusting his cap.

“I must admit, I do see it.” König adds in. You squint down the table at him, and he immediately looks away. Price looks down at the boys like he’s schooling children. Your mouth falls open, taking in all the new information.

“Remember that's your lieutenant you’re talking about. Leave his private life alone. You know how Simon is.” Price interjects, stopping the conversation before it gets out of hand. You blush fiercely, taken aback by their words. You don’t even think about what they’ve said, you can’t. Price looks to you apologetically.

“What?” You ask, looking between them. “Ghost?” You double check, making sure that your hearing hasn’t totally left you.

“He’s gone on you, mate.” Gaz adds, tone more serious than you would have expected.

“Christ, just pass me another drink.” You say, extending your hand out as König slides a shot down the table.

—

Thirty minutes later

You can feel his eyes on you. They’re burning through the thin fabric of your dress, where your breasts rest perfectly inside the silk, where the curve of your ass swells just above the hem of the dress. Your cheeks blush, whether from his eyes or the alcohol you’re not sure. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide his gaze, openly staring at you across the floor. His bourbon is held tightly in his hand as he watches you twirl on the dance floor between Soap and König. The lights aren't nearly as bright as your smile, and the night isn’t nearly as dark as the glint in your eyes.

Ghost had watched men approach you on several occasions, and each time Soap shoved them away from you. You hadn’t given any of them the time of day. But Ghost? You’re taunting him, testing his self control to the point that he’s about to break. Every swing of your hips accompanies a purposeful glint in your eyes, a subtle bite of your lip. You’re teasing him, and he can’t take it.

He deserves it. This is payback. He’s been apparently wanting you for months, and everyone in the damn Task Force knew about it but you. You’ve had enough of it. You extend your drink out for Soap to hold, accidentally bumping it against his chest and spilling a bit down his shirt. He takes the glass with furrowed eyebrows, looking down at your tipsy frame.

“Where ya headin’ to?” He yells over the music.

“Have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, j-just watch my drink.” You stumble over your words, eyes never leaving Ghost’s. Soap nods, taking your cocktail and continuing his conversation with König.

Ghost inhales deeply from across the room, eyes fixated on the taunting little “come hither” motion of your finger. You turn away from him, making your way towards the VIP bathrooms. You walk slow enough that he can follow after you, not that you’re even capable of walking too fast, lest you lose your balance and fall over. You push past a few other people, your heart beating quickly as you go. The music is loud and the lights are low, which you’re grateful for. Hopefully no one notices Ghost trailing behind you. A warm buzz radiates in your chest, pulsing down your bones as the liquor you’ve been downing boosts your confidence and slows your movements.

You push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. It’s clean and orderly, perks of the VIP section. Immediately, you walk in front of the oval mirror, checking over your outfit and fixing your hair. You reapply a quick layer of red lipstick, tucking it back into your purse just as you hear the lock click.

Before you can turn around, a solid warmth presses against your back. Ghost. The sink digs into your hip bones as he sandwiches you in, one hand pushing your hair over your shoulder. His skin on yours is more intoxicating than any drinks you've had tonight. He's never touched you, not like this. You giggle, tipsy as ever as he rolls his balaclava over his nose.

"Ghost–" You whine, fingers clenching around the sink as he gently nips at the skin of your neck. He inhales your perfume, exhaling in a deep growl that rumbles through you.

"Simon." He corrects, hands wrapping around your hips. For just a moment, you sober up. He wants you to use his real name?

Your coherent thoughts fall away as he turns you around, hands nearly bruising your waist. He kisses you. It's sloppy and drunk, but it's everything. All the months of wondering, and hoping– he's kissing you. If you'd known it would only take a few rounds of drinks for the courage, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. Painted fingernails dig into his shoulders as you lean up for more. His tongue delves into your mouth, and you whine. He tastes like his favorite bourbon, smells like expensive cologne– his signature scent that you could recognize anywhere. Eventually, you pull away for the oxygen that he's so easily stolen from you.

"Everyone said…" You take a deep breath, glassy eyes flicking from his scarred lips and chin up to his eyes. He waits for a response, but sees hesitation.

"Hmmm, what did they say, love?"

"They said you wanted me."

"How couldn't I?" Ghost growls.

You yelp as he grabs underneath your thighs and lifts you up onto the sink. His hands are massive, maneuvering you as if he was trained to do so. Your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against the pressure in his jeans.

"Fuckin hell, I've wanted you since you first joined the Task Force." Ghost growls in between kisses and bites to your pulsepoint.

You think back to all that time ago. It seems like ages since you met the cool headed, brooding, terrifying Simon "Ghost" Riley. You remember thinking how easily he could break you. Now?– Oh, how you want him to.

Hearing him say it out loud sends a wave of need straight to your core. Your hands shoot for his black leather belt, but he shakes his head, stopping you before you can unclasp it.

"Not here, love." He shakes his head, gripping your chin to press one slow, sweet kiss to your plump lips. Your eyes slip shut, and you pout as he pulls away from you and slides his balaclava back down over his chin. Disappointment pools over you as you search for an explanation.

"Flat's not far." Is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you off the sink. He unlocks the bathroom door and begins pulling you back towards the crowd. "Here. Order us an Uber, yeah?" Simon asks you, slipping his phone into your free hand.

It's too much for your drunken mind to take in as he leads you through the crowd of people. Colored lights strobe, making it hard for you to make out faces, but eventually you spot your group across the club. Soap is still holding your drink, but now he's looking around. Price and Laswell are with him, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Remembering your task, you look down to Ghost’s phone. It's already opened up to the app, but messages are coming in and you can't swipe them away quick enough. The light bothers your eyes, and you attempt to read the messages as they flutter across the blurry screen.

Cpt. Price:

-Is y/n with you at the table? We seem to have lost her. Very worried.

You swipe the message away, and quickly order an Uber to Ghost’s saved home address. It's difficult, and you have to squint to make out all the swirling numbers and bright lights. But eventually, even in your state, you manage to get a confirmation code and receipt. An unsaved number pops up, more than one notification at a time lighting up the screen:

-LT, where'd you end up?

-Y/n asked me to hold her drink, disappeared on me.

-OH SHIT

-LT!

-YOU HOUND!

-HAHA! Getting a pump, eh, LT? No worries, lad. I'll tell the Cap what's going on.

Several erotic emojis pop up on the screen and you blush fiercely. Then you giggle. Soap, of course. You shake your head to rid yourself of the idea. The last thing you want is for Soap to blab about this.

Simon pulls you through the exit and into the cold night. The breeze causes a shiver to run up your spine, and your dress helps none. As he leads you towards the road, you check the address once more and slip Simon’s phone back into his blazer pocket.

"I d-didn't know you lived in Manchester." You whisper as he leads you out into the cold night.

"Manny, born and raised.” You can hear Ghost huff through his mask, as if something humors him, “But no one knows where I live." He mutters, leading you down towards the busy street.

No one except for you.

Cars pass by, and scantily clad men and women rush down the sidewalks searching for the same pleasure that you’re seeking. You bite your lip, feeling a bit nervous now that this is actually happening. Simon squeezes your hand.

A steady trickle of rain begins to sprinkle down from the dark night sky, and goosebumps trail down your bare arms and legs. As soon as you tense, Simon is pulling his blazer off.

“Simon, that's not necessary, really–” You begin to protest, but he is already wrapping the expensive jacket around your shoulders.

“Hush.” He warns, and you obey. It's instinct. He’s your lieutenant after all.

You can see the tug of a smirk under his mask, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his brown orbs flick down over your body. You frown lightly, feeling bad that he’s given up his jacket for your sake.

“Don’t worry, love. I'll be taking it all off soon, yeah?”

The alcohol buzzing through your system, making everything fuzzy, only intensifies the burning desire in between your legs. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. If you had it your way, he would have already taken you, bent you over the sink and had his way. The thought alone causes butterflies to fall in your stomach. Cold fingers wrap around Simon’s phone, still resting in the coat you’re now wearing. His recent notifications are all from Soap, and you scroll through them until a new one pops up on the screen.

“Car’s here.” You whisper, half lidded eyes searching until you find the sleek, black Volvo as it pulls against the curb. He takes your hand again, pulling you towards the car.

“Simon, how long is this ride gonna be? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” You admit, wanting nothing more than to tear your damn dress to shreds and throw yourself at the man beside you. He only huffs, showing a self restraint that you could only dream of.

“Patience.” Is all he says as he opens the car door for you. You step inside the nice car, scooting towards the other side to make room for Simon to sit in the back with you. You see the momentary panic in the driver’s eyes as a 6’4 masked man climbs into his backseat, but Simon only places his hand on your thigh and politely confirms the details with the man.

Simon grips your thigh, the large pads of his fingers leaving imprints on your soft flesh. You shake your ankle, distracting yourself from the desire growing in your abdomen.

“Drive fast, yeah?” Simon mumbles, sliding twenty quid to the driver.

—

The door lock clicks. Simon checks it twice.

His hands are on you in an instant, picking you up by your thighs and pushing you up against the wall. He didn’t turn the lights on, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark as Simon’s lips run over your jaw in sloppy kisses. You moan, hands wrapping around his neck and resting on the back of his balaclava.

“Simon, please–” You whine, throwing your head back as he nips your earlobe.

“Just a second, darling.” Ghost growls, holding you against him. He carries you through the dark flat, maneuvering drunkenly down an even darker hall. He approaches a door, and kicks it open like a human battering ram. You’re slowing him down, your lips pressing against him everywhere that they can reach, leaving love bites that he’ll still have in the morning. You kick your heels off before he even sets you down, your hands tearing off the blazer from your limbs. It hits the ground, Simon’s phone buzzing silently in the pocket. He’ll find several missed calls from the boys in the morning. You don’t even want to think about the notifications your phone is receiving. Luckily, you dropped your purse as soon as you entered the front door, so it can be a problem for tomorrow.

Simon gently tosses you down on his king sized bed, and you fall onto the plush black blankets. They’re warm and soft and they smell like him. It’s all too intoxicating. You lean forward and unclasp Simon’s belt buckle as quickly as your intoxicated hands can manage as he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it. You’re taken aback as you notice a sizable scar on his ribs. It's a messy, deep, pink scar that indents into his otherwise pale skin. Your eyebrows wrinkle, fingertips brushing near the flesh before he snatches your hand away, squeezing it too tight to the point that it hurts.

“Don’t.” Is all he says. It’s a warning, and you blush a deep crimson out of embarrassment.

“Sorry.” You mutter, quietly. Simon brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles.

Ghost leans forward, hand gripping the side of your neck as he kisses you again. His balaclava tickles your nose as you deepen the kiss, leaning more into him. Any embarrassment or awkwardness from your last interaction falls away as he pushes his jeans down over his legs, lips still interlocked with yours. Simon steps out of his jeans and boxers, and your jaw falls slack.

“Simon–” You stutter, eyes fixated on the length between his legs. Your eyes flick back up to his face, seeing the proud smirk he wears, even through the mask.. He simply won’t fit. It’s just not possible– He’s too big.

“I can’t-” You shake your head.

“I’ll be gentle, love.” He reassures, climbing overtop of you on the bed. Nervously, you nod. You trust him. Big hands grab you by the waist and flip you onto your stomach. You whine, clutching the sheets below you. He shushes you, and you gasp as golden beads and zipper teeth fly across the room, bouncing off of the floor and the glass window overlooking the city. A loud tear rings out as Ghost shreds your dress from the seams.

“Fuck, Simon! That was expensive!” You yelp as he pulls the ruined fabric from your body, discarding it on the floor. Laswell’s gonna kill you.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He growls, warm hand running down your bare back. His finger loops under the black lace thong you’re wearing. Simon smirks, “All for me?” He asks, releasing the lace so it smacks back down onto your skin.

“Yes– all for you, only you, Simon.” You mumble, pushing your ass back up in hopes that he’ll touch you.

“That’s my girl.”

You moan at his words, hands moving to your hips to shove the lace down off your legs, but he brushes your hands away, stopping you.

“Leave it on.” Simon rumbles at your back. You nod your head against the pillow, bringing your hands to rest under your head. Ghost pulls your thong string to the side, letting it rest just out of the way.

“Fuckin ‘ell, love.” Simon takes a breath, trying to keep the control that you’re so close to snapping as his fingers trail over your dripping folds.

“Fuck, Simon. Stop teasing.” You beg, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckles, dipping two fingers into your throbbing cunt.

“O-Oh!” You whine, gripping the sheets as he hooks his thick fingers, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. Simon kisses your back, nudging your legs with his less busy hand so that they’re folded under your stomach and spread apart. He positions you low enough that your stomach touches the bed. He curls his fingers, scissoring them occasionally as you throb and whine for him. He groans at the noises you make, working you open until you’re ready.

“Perfect.” He grumbles, sliding his fingers out of you. You whine in confusion until you feel the tip of his length teasing at your entrance.

“Ready, love?” Ghost asks. You moan, biting your lip and nodding your head.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes. Im ready, just– please Simon, fuck!” You stutter.

Simon slowly pushes in, and you gasp for air as he parts you like the fucking red sea. It hurts a little, and your nose wrinkles as you exhale. Simon notices the hitch in your breath, carefully examining your reaction to make sure you’re comfortable. It only takes a few moments for you to acclimate, and then he feels incredible. His size stretches you, reaching depths you didn't think possible. He hits every sweet spot as he spears into you.

Simon’s chest presses against your back as he pushes into you. His scarred lips lock onto your neck, biting you as he fucks you from behind. He grips the headboard to steady himself, nearly leaving indents in the wood as he thrusts.

It's rough, drunk and sloppy as he drills into you. He starts out at a slow and steady pace, grinding into you rhythmically so as to not hurt you. Your exhales become sharp huffs, swirling together with the puffs of air he exhales next to your ear. If only you could turn around and kiss him again. You crave his lips against yours, satisfying the craving you’ve been ignoring for so long. But you know Simon might not be ready for that level of intimacy yet. You’ve heard stories, connected the dots.

All too soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge from his movements. You gasp and moan under him, whimpering out his name so loudly that you’re sure the entire building can hear. The headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust, loudly slamming and leaving dents in the drywall. Neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to even realize.

Your neck is bruised from Simon’s lips, adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you over the edge. You fight it, but lose as pulsing heat tears through your core. Stars explode in your vision, eyes shut tight enough that they wrinkle.

“F-uck, Simon!” You scream, nails digging into the sheets as your whole body trembles with the weight of your orgasm. Your walls squeeze Simon’s length in time with his thrusts, turning him into a groaning mess.

“Bloody fuckin ‘ell." Simon groans, accent thicker than usual. His warm breath tickles your ear, and you gasp as he bottoms out, hitting your cervix.

“You- You on the pill?” Simon manages to stutter out between deep grunts. He can’t risk pregnancy, can’t be a father. But you feel so fucking good and he can’t bring himself to unbury himself from your perfect, dripping cunt.

“Got the patch– you’re good. Just fucking fill me up, please.” You beg, rocking your hips against him. He nearly curses at your words. You have a foul mouth in bed, something he wouldn’t have guessed. You whimper his name, and that’s all it takes.

Simon grunts deep and guttural, and with one an iron grip on your hips, he fills you up with his spend. You moan, taking it all until you can’t, and it comes dripping out around him before he’s even finished.

“That’s it, fffuck– y/n.” He grunts as the last of his seed spills out.

You press your forehead against the sheets, wincing as he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. A sheen of sweat lines both your bodies, but as much as you’d like a shower, you’re exhausted. A digital clock rests on the table beside Simon’s bed, and you sit up, squinting to look at it. 0300. Damn.

You look back towards Simon. He’s half sitting up against the headboard, half laying down. You notice the thousand yard stare that he’s putting off, and you gently cup his chin, pulling his gaze towards you.

“You okay?” You ask, rolling up his balaclava with your dainty fingers. You uncover the subtle smile on his lips. You smile in retur, half lidded eyes focusing on the shape of his lips. Your thumb traces over them gently.

“Better now.” He whispers. You press a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet before pulling away.

“Get some sleep, love.” He says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. Much to his surprise, you tuck yourself into the crook of his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. Sleep overcomes you almost immediately. He’s too warm, too perfect. It’d be impossible for you to stay awake next to the comforting, human heater that he is.

Simon hesitates. It’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to him. The bourbon gave him confidence enough to bring you home, but this is a very new territory, and not even the alcohol can guide him through this one. Sex is one thing, but intimacy? Emotional vulnerability? Simon burned those handbooks long ago.

“Love?” He asks, awkwardly looking to see if you’re awake. You don’t respond, asleep he confirms. Simon’s not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to move you. Are you comfortable? Is he too close? Too warm?

He sighs, looking down at your arms tightly wound around him. No one’s shown him this type of affection, not ever. He’s not sure how to reciprocate it, but he wants to. One day at a time. Simon pulls the blanket up over your waist, checking twice to make sure that it's covering you. Carefully, he places a hand over your back, feeling your soft skin against his.

He doesn’t sleep at all, opting to stay awake and watch the small rise and fall of your back on his lap. He doesn’t deserve you, he's sure. But you’re here, and that’s something.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #cod mw2

2K notes · View notes