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#Though of course...at what price?
black-eco-sage · 11 months
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WIP - "The Price"
In another reality, Torn goes to save their friends from the Baron's Prison himself...but may be too late save the one closest to his heart.
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xeneric-shrooms · 10 months
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If candy/icing so dull and ugly, how come him, hmmm???
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How come him???
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whentherewerebicycles · 3 months
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it doesn't make sense to pay to store my three remaining donor vials until i'm ready to try getting pregnant again... it costs a LOT to store them for two years and i should just either trust that i can buy more vials from this donor when it's time OR be fine with using a different donor. it doesn't really matter if my kids are half siblings! i also don't even know for sure if i'm going to want/be able to to have a second kid! but idk just feel :( about it. i can't believe they charge so much to store a thing i've already purchased at a premium... this whole industry is truly such a racket.
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butshesgotthespirit · 7 months
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Who invented the idea that to graduate "on time" you have to do it within 4 years? As though someone is standing over you holding a timer? Sounds fake.
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abusivelittlebunny · 1 year
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I want to have hope so I can have motivation and courage but I'm terrified of getting my hopes up and hyping myself up only for it to be just crushed into dust. I want to believe but I fear that regretting the joy of it will kill me
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skullinahat · 2 years
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the only value an item has is the value placed upon it. if someone would pay 1,000 dollars for a single apple, that apple is technically 1,000 dollars to that person.
i often think in a mildly similar fashion about artistic value.
if the mona lisa has value to you because your friend sent you a funny meme about it once, that is it's value. if you look into the history and analysis of the mona lisa, that then may have some type of value to you. if an abstract art piece reminds you of your grandmother's kitchen, that is it's artistic value to you. if you look analyze the piece yourself and find your own meaning in it in time, that is value. if a comic makes you cry for a reason you don't quite understand, that is value.
if a urinal has inspired both rage, amusement, and constant analysis leading to a better understanding or interest in art and its value and impact and what is art, i would say that urinal has quite a lot of artistic value.
if you saw that urinal and know nothing about it but decided it is an excellent art piece, it is an excellent art piece.
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postmortemnivis · 2 months
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nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.
that was until your worried voice called for him.
you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.
“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”
“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”
you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.
“who’re you looking for?”
you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”
“ghost?”
you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”
“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”
“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”
you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint—or two—with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.
"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.
"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."
you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.
you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.
you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?
"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.
his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.
"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.
you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.
he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.
"love?" he called you.
still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.
"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.
"ghost?"
he shook his head. "simon, love."
"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.
he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.
you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.
this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.
he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.
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cator99 · 1 year
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I was so weird about lesbian sex for a long time because when I was 14 I hooked up with an older girl at bible camp and suddenly got my period during it and I was so embarassed but she didn't care so we kept going and then I suddenly got a severe nosebleed for no reason while I was on top of her kissing her and you can imagine how that went so there was my blood everywhere all over both of us and this sounds like I'm making shit up but it was insane and k i was panicking but she was like all about it so we just kept going and like it was too late, there was already blood on both of us! Like all over us. and I thought it was kind of powerful. so I let myself get blood all over the cabin. we were feverish. At first I just let my nosebleed drip on the floor and we both laughed like fuck this place yeah lets get blood everywhere. And we did. This is just what makes us girls. We had this cabin entirely to ourselves too for 3 whole nights!! They didn't check on us in there even once!!! Not even the counselors wanted to be near us- we had wanted to be alone and not participate in the religious activities so we told everyone we were sick, however the absolutely insane family who single-handedly ran the camp (the mom was rarely seen of course but the dad was this freaky cult-leader type preacher named Greg, and they had ummmm I think 15 kids or something, most of whom were adults, so they had no issue running this camp on an acreage they owned with very little outsider involvement) genuinely thought we were just posessed by demons, and in response they gave us our own cabin in order to ensure that we were kept away from the other kids there. Major oversight on their part and also sounds illegal but I could tell they were scared shitless of me (weird hair I cut and dyed myself, 3 lip piercings, septum ring, mid kandi kid phase so I had rainbow bracelets up past my elbows) and the girl (who had a jugalette tattoo and was the only black girl at the camp, I think ever)... I ended up getting banned from bible camp for other reasons... lesbian sex blood rituals aside....... (a kid saw me smoking something in a pipe and snitched, and they thought it was weed but it was so obviously just mint tea...) yeah after that I was like "was god punishing me for being a lesbian by making me bleed everywhere during sex oh god I'm going to hell forever and ever waaah" because even though I didn't believe in that shit in any real way at all I still had raging paranoia about being punished for being gay... regardless I came to the conclusion that if all that bloodshed was the price of homosexuality then I'd just have to learn to enjoy it. And I was so right for that . But yeah when I did have sex again after that I was like Ok hellooooo God where is the blood are u there God...???
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.
pornstar au!
f!reader
Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.
He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.
It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.
Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.
Simon had retired and meant it.
That was, until you.
A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.
He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.
Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.
You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.
Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.
He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.
Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.
And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.
He's enthralled.
Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.
They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.
Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.
Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.
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whateveriwant · 6 months
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The 141 in a reverse harem
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18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom
Soap
The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door
But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything
As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy
More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you
Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!
Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…
Gaz
Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz
Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)
Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them
Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like
And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves
While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean
Price
Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time
No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog
As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will
While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature
Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs
No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight
Ghost
Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way
It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door
But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye
What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?
Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast
Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers
It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope
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moondirti · 17 days
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featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range
hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.
who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.
fine by them.
so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.
isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.
the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.
by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.
of course the call has to come then.
in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.
and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.
rdv on base in a week.
he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.
regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!
promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.
they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.
they notice you as soon as they walk in.
sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.
as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.
simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.
"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"
that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.
something about that quirk just screams safe.
"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.
"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."
"please. after you." simon nods.
an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.
"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.
"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"
"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"
"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.
"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."
"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.
you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."
and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.
it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.
(with great tits.)
he'd be a fool to sabotage it.
johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."
[ next ]
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writersdrug · 19 days
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Training for Two: pt. 5
Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader
<- Previous
Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?
A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy! PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!
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art by @sleepyconfusedpotato
The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.
Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.
"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.
He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."
Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."
"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."
"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."
Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...
A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.
"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"
"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."
Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"
"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.
"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.
Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.
"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."
"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."
Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.
Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.
"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"
She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.
"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"
Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.
Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.
He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.
Hello Simon!
Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.
Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!
Have a nice evening!
P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.
He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.
He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.
"Riley, c'mere."
Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.
"Play dead." He said firmly.
Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.
He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.
"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.
He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.
------------
After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.
His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.
After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.
He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.
He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.
He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.
He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.
He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.
Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.
"Hmm?"
She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.
He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...
Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.
"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.
"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.
Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.
"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"
She cut him off with a shrill yap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.
"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.
He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.
He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-
Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.
"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.
Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
"... m... hello?"
Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.
"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."
"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."
Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.
"Hello?" He asked cautiously.
"Up... 'm up... what's up?"
Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"
Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.
Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"
Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."
Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.
"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."
"Hmm?"
"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."
"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."
Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."
"No- she wants you to tuck her in."
"She wha' now?"
You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."
He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.
"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.
"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.
You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.
"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."
"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.
He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.
"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."
"I did?"
"Yeah. The green one."
"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"
"Who are you talking to at this hour?"
Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"
"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?
"Talk to me."
"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"
"My client, ya git."
"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.
"Got me right in my bloody eye-"
"Oh, hush."
"Left your flannel at his house."
"My green one?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were using the grey one!"
"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"
"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."
You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.
"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"
"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.
Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."
"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"
"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."
You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."
"Right, will do. I'll text you."
"Is everything ok?"
"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."
"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."
"G'bye."
He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.
Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.
He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.
Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.
"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.
She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.
Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.
He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"
She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.
He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.
"We'll be alright, girl."
------------
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1K notes · View notes
cntloup · 9 days
Text
husband!simon x wife!reader
i know im on a break but here's a lil smth hehe🤭🩷💫🌸
"get out through the backdoor!" Simon utters hurriedly, "and take this... just in case." he hands you the gun which he keeps under his pillow.
"i'm not gonna leave you!" you blurt out as you feel the tingle of tears behind your eyes, fearing the worst possible outcome.
"you have to! please just go! i'll take care of them!" he says in a hushed tone in order not to alert the intruders.
he reaches in his nightstand and grabs an envelope and hands it to you.
"here's all the information you need in case i'm gone." he says in a monotone manner, masking how he truly feels inside.
he's never put much value on his life, always focused to get the job done no matter the cost. until you appeared and swept him off his feet.
now he senses a churn in his stomach, utter fear gnawing at his heart, not for himself, but you. what would happen to you when he's gone?
you take the envelope with shaky hands, "simon, you mean...?" you ask, frightened out of your mind.
"yes. if i die, you'll know what to do." he responds, "please don't say that!" you plead, averting your gaze from him to hide your tears.
he embraces you tightly and kisses the crown of your head, "go!" he says and ushers you out of the bedroom, making sure the path is clear for you to head out back.
moments later, after throwing punches and slashing through flesh with sharply honed knives and bullets flying around, simon finds himself among five dead bodies and a pool of blood on the carpet.
just as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, he hears the sound of a gunshot.
he's startled and filled with anxiety as he steps outside to see what happened, finding himself praying for the first time in his life that it's not you.
only then, he meets your terrified figure, shaking and eyes widened in sheer shock.
his eyes land on the blood splattered all over your shirt and you notice his anxious eyes, "it's not mine!" you say breathily, chest heaving as adrenaline courses heavily through your body.
in an instant, he runs towards you and engulfs you in his strong arms while letting out a sigh of relief, "i thought i lost you!" he murmurs in your hair, "can't get rid of me that easily, babe!" you say back with a low chuckle, though still trembling.
"i'll call price to help with the mess." he says, guiding you inside the house with an arm draped over your shoulders as you're still stuck in a state of lingering shock.
-----
"you looked so fuckin' sexy in that moment with the gun in your hand and blood all over you!" he says with a smirk as you cuddle on the couch days after the incident.
"yeah? you liked that?" you ask with a playful smile as your glinting eyes meet his.
"i'm proud of you! my wife is such a badass!" he says, a soft smile adorning his scarred lips and pure adoration dancing in his eyes as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
2K notes · View notes
soaps-mohawk · 2 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
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2K notes · View notes
un-lawliet · 6 months
Note
WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀
Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !
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“Normal”
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- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.
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“Does this count as stalking?”
It absolutely did count as stalking.
Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.
“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”
“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.
“Exactly!”
Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.
Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.
“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.
“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”
Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.
“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.
“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.
“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.
“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”
“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”
“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.
Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”
Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.
“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.
A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.
Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.
Gojo glares.
“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.
“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.
He hesitates and Shoko groans.
“You do have a plan don’t you?”
“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”
“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.
“Jesus Christ Gojo.”
“Does that mean I can leave?”
“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”
“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”
“Wanna go now Shoko?”
“Guys!”
Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.
Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.
“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”
“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.
“Yea.”
Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.
“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.
“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.
“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.
“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.
“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.
“You suggest something then Nanamin!”
“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”
“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”
“I’m leaving.”
Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.
“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”
“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.
“Yes, an idiot.”
Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.
“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
“That could work!”
“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”
“And?”
Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”
“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.
“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.
“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.
“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”
“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.
“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.
Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.
You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.
It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.
And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.
The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.
All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.
“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.
“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.
“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.
“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.
“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.
“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.
“What? No? That’s not what I-”
“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.
“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”
“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”
“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”
“That’s the same thing Gojo!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.
“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.
“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.
“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.
Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.
“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.
Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.
“…Sit down Satoru.”
And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.
The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.
.
.
.
The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.
“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.
“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”
You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.
“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.
“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”
“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.
“Actually?”
“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”
“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”
“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.
“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.
“..You think?”
“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”
“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”
“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”
“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.
“He likes his sleep.”
“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”
“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.
“Try the curse again Suguru.”
“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”
“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”
“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.
“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.
“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.
“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.
“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”
Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”
“But how?” Gojo moans.
“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.
By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.
You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.
Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.
“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.
“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.
You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.
“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.
“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.
“I told him I could go back by myself.”
“Some guy.”
“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”
A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.
He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”
“Satoru.”
You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.
You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.
And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.
“You look good.” He mutters.
“Good?”
“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”
“My date?”
Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.
“Who else?” He muses.
You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.
“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.
“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”
You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.
“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.
“Would have said something without him, y’know?”
“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.
Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.
And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.
“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.
“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.
“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.
A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.
“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.
“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.
“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”
And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”
And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.
“Idiots.” Shoko says.
“Completely.” Nanami agrees.
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Masterlist <3
Feel free to leave a request !
A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.
LOVE YOU
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saksukei · 8 months
Text
simon ‘ghost’ riley has a crush on you
masterlist | subtle things he does for you | simon my love
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simon’s feelings hit him like a truck, as if he's a deer caught in the headlights. he only comes to realize it in the heat of the battle, chests heaving up and down as the two of you hide behind a wall for cover. you tell him to reload first and it's something so insignificant, so minute and yet it pieces things together for him. so he does what his first best. swallow the lump in his neck, ignore the swelling of his heart and focus on what’s next.
except
he sucks at it and boy is it evident.
it is so subtle though, subtle enough for it to slip under everyone’s radars including yours. except, captain price is no fool. he's known simon long enough to see the little change in his demeanor when you enter the room. how simon immediately sits up right, in his best posture, giving you a firm nod of acknowledgment.
how simon always looks your way, always. even when you’re not looking, he’ll still check what you're doing, where you are. it’s not intended to be creepy, it's just a form of reassurance that you’re alive, that you’re okay, that he has another chance to confess. (also the type to lean against the door frame and observe you)
what’s shocking is that even during his infamous cigarette breaks, he chooses to hang out with you. he adores the fact that it’s comfortable silence between the two of you. and more importantly, it contains the two best things he needs, silence and you. “what a view” he thinks to himself.
moreso, the lieutenant’s eye for detail is insane. simon is incredibly nuanced, he can notice when your mood is off, when you’re hurt, irritated or whatsoever. he tries to deal with the issue silently, like handing you a bottle of water, leaving a seat for you beside him, ensuring that he does most of the paper work and so on.
simon reacts at the speed of lightning if he notices you’re hurt or in range of fire. he remembers the one time he ran, grabbing you by the waist to make sure you don’t get shot. your small frame clinging against his, your body weight almost nothing to him and he felt lightheaded. he desperately wanted to keep you in his arms but he settles for asking, “you holdin’ up fine?” as he lets you out of his grip.
he enjoys bantering with you so much. such snide and snarky remarks all the time. from “what? can’t handle a little teasing from your superiors?” to “you know it's bad manners cussing behind your lieutenant’s back,” to “thought you were tough?” to “all that back talk, why don't you come and prove it?” he absolutely loves the reactions you give him.
moreso, when he begins getting more and more comfortable, he invites you eat lunch with him as opposed to with the rest of the soldiers. adores the fact that you both can converse without having eyes on the two of you. “plans for lunch?”
oh and of course, the most difficult moment of his life, when you reached forward on your tippy toes to fix his balaclava, simon thought he’d have a heart attack. took all of his strength to not lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “looking alright now?” he jokes, you can almost hear his smirk.
he hates the vulnerability, he does. but what he doesn't hate is the fact that it's you. it's you he’s being vulnerable with. and he repeats it to himself every night that you’re the best choice anyway.
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