#i just wanted to share because we had Such A Day
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Second Time's The Charm II
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: You, your kind of ex-wife and a baby
Alexia was practically floating on air as she burst out out of the car.
"I've got her! I've got her!" She told you, practically falling over from the force she used to pull open the car door," I want to get her!"
"Go ahead," You said, slipping out of the car as well and grabbing your bag.
Alexia grabbed her, holding her close as she hurried towards the building. She had to stop by the door though because her hands were full and she anxiously rocked back and forth while waiting.
You huffed out a laugh as you opened the door and she burst in.
Alexia was off like a shot down the corridor while you followed at a more sedate pace. You knew she would wait for you, having forced her to agree to do so before leaving the house.
It had been a hard-fought battle this morning that had you promising things like cooking for the week and giving over your cabinet space in the bathroom.
"Come on! Come on! Come on!" Alexia said impatiently from the door to the locker room.
You made the point of going even slower, taking pigeon steps just to annoy her.
"Come on!"
You slowly raised your foot and brought it down even slower.
"Please?" Alexia begged," Please? Please? Please? Please?"
"I want the wardrobe in the spare room."
"Wait, no! That's mine!"
"Sharing is caring, Alexia," You mocked her words from last night," Isn't that how you want to raise her?"
Alexia huffed. "Half the wardrobe."
"Half the wardrobe and the cabinet."
"That's so unfair!"
"Do you want me to hurry up?"
"Fine! Half the wardrobe and the cabinet!"
You started walking normally again. Your hand rested on the door handle as Alexia adjusted her grip. "Ready?"
She nodded, a blinding smile on her face. "So ready."
You pushed open the door, stepping aside to let Alexia walk in.
"No!" Mapi said," No!" She stood up on the bench and pointed at both of you. "No! No! No! No!"
"Mapi-"
"No!"
Alexia ignored her. "This is our baby!"
On her hip was your newly adopted baby. She was five months old and all smiley and giggly. Alexia was so proud of her, constantly holding her and playing with her and carrying her absolutely everywhere.
"No!" Mapi could do little but repeat the same thing over and over again.
Alexia's brow furrowed in confusion as she looked between Mapi and sweet baby Maya. "But she is our baby. We signed the papers." Her frown deepened as she turned back to look at you. "We did sign the papers, right? She's ours?"
You stifled a laugh. "Yes, Ale. She is ours. We signed the papers."
Alexia nodded before turning back to Mapi. "She is ours! This is Maya Putellas! She's a baby! Our baby!"
"That's right, Ale. She is our baby."
"Baby!" Alexia insisted, head bouncing around to look at each of her teammates," Our baby! A little Putellas!"
"No!" Mapi kept saying," No!"
Ingrid very awkwardly patted her girlfriend on the back before demonstrating she was fluent in Mapi by explaining," I think Mapi's a little worried about how quick you're moving. You only got back together a few months ago."
"Mapi shouldn't worry!" Alexia said quickly, bouncing Maya on her hip," We're taking great care of our Maya! Look, she's got my eyes!"
You laughed as Mapi was presented Maya like she was Simba, unable to back away as Alexia cornered her between the wall and your baby.
"Just to clarify," You told the rest of the room," Maya's adopted. Alexia's very proud."
Lucy scoffed, watching as Alexia waxed poetic about everything Maya did last night. "Clearly. How long have you had her?"
You winced. "Two days."
"I'm surprised Alexia waited this long to tell us."
"She nearly posted Maya in the group chat. That's what she did for Eli and Alba. No context, just a picture and then ignored their calls. She's in baby heaven right now."
You turned to look at your wife, who had well and truly trapped Mapi and was now explaining every little detail of Maya's outfit.
Ingrid and Lucy both followed your gaze.
"I think she's providing Mapi with free birth control," Ingrid joked," I think we're only going to have pets if Alexia keeps talking like that."
You winced. "Don't mention the p word in front of Ale. She wants a puppy too. I've been trying to tell her not while Maya is so little but she's got a powerpoint prepared so it's better to just avoid the conversation entirely."
"Right," Lucy said," No mentioning pets. Got it."
Alexia's head whipped around to face you. "Pets? I think we should get Maya a puppy!"
You groaned. "No, Ale."
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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When You’re Gone
(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K
Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!
A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤
You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.
That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.
You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.
Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.
You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.
Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.
Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.
The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.
But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.
Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.
You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.
Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.
“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”
As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.
You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.
As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.
You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.
“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.
“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”
“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”
“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”
You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.
“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”
“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”
“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”
His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.
“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”
“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”
When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.
“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”
“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”
“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.
“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”
“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.
“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.
“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”
“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.
“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.
“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“
“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.
“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”
One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.
“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”
“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”
“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.
“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.
“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”
“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.
“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.
You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.
“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.
“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”
“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”
“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”
“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”
He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.
“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”
“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.
“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.
“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.
“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”
You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.
“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.
“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.
“Fuck, get up here, now.”
He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.
“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.
“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.
“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”
You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.
“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”
“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.
“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.
You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.
“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”
Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.
“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”
“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”
“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.
“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.
“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.
“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.
“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.
“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”
“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”
“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”
“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”
He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.
“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”
He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.
“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”
“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”
“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”
“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”
He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.
“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.
Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#Eddie Munson angst#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#Eddie Munson fluff#Dolly writes#divider by me
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Lucy bronze x reader please :)
Reader and Lucy have been together for years but are still not out to the fans and so. Reader wants to have that openness. Lucy wants to be more private. So a heated discussion is formed between the too. Some angst ending in fluff
What are we // lucy bronze x reader
You and lucy had been dating for years now in secret. fans not knowing anything at all only spectating from the sidelines or when you both would hint a your relationship without people being able to connect the dots.
Well you were tried of always having to be private. you wanted to be able too have the closeness that other couples had when posting there significant other.
You wanted to post lucy and her doing the same.doing couple dumps being able to post each other's matching outfits, date days pictures, post about each other's your miles stones or instead want the public to know that you both were together if that was it.
Lucy on the other hand wanted to have things private which you respected at first. but thinking about it made you feel like she doesn't want people to know your together or she's ashamed of being with you.
you decided to ignore those thoughts. and would try bringing up how you want to open your relationship to the public more. Letting them know you both are together. which you plan on doing this night as lucu would be taking you out to both's of your favorite restaurant.
The night arrived where you and Lucy arrived at the restaurant everything was going well she was always treating you like a goddess who's feet just landed on earth.
"You always teat me so well". you told her
"If I didn't who was gonna do it huh". She told you while rubbing your hands with hers.
"Your honestly the best".
"All because of you baby". She said.
It took you a while before getting anything out of your mouth which lucy noticed how tense you got during your conversations when she asked if you were okay.
"You okay baby your body feels tense". She told you.
"Yeah I just got something to tell you". You told her.
"What is it you can always tell me anything".
"Well I was thinking maybe we should be more open about our relationship to the public".you told her.
"What I thought you we're happy with our private life".
"I'm it just that it would be nice to let our fans know about us". You told her back.
"I know that what you want but I'm not just ready".
You were starting to get really irritated at licy right now cause it would always be the same excuse she wasn't ready or how would other's think of you both.
"Oh my god lucy I'm your fucking finance and it wouldn't hurt for you to let people know". You yelled at her ignoring the looks you were getting
"Baby please calm down we can talk about this somewhere more private". she told you
"Always fucking private with you never wanting to deal with things now if your ashamed of us just say so you don't need to be coming up with all these bullshit excuses". You told her
"Baby don't say that of course I'm proud of us".
"Don't call baby me cause if you we're actually proud you'd want people to know". With that you left the restaurant before lucy could say anymore.
You arrived at your shared apartment pissed off and decided to head too bed but instead you caught yourself looking at pictures of you and Lucy together that you would love to share but instead didn't.
You heard the front door open deciding not to deal with lucy you turned of your phone fake sleeping not wanting to deal with her. not realizing you fell asleep pretty quickly.
The next day came quickly you did your best ignoring lucy the whole even though you both lived together doesn't mean you couldn't.
lucy had enough with you ignoring her and decided to end whatever silent treatment you were giving her.
"Okay I get that your angry about yesterday and how it was handled but we can't do this if your here not communicating with me". she told you
"You made it pretty clear to understand yesterday that you're ashamed of us as a couple and I'm taking time to that".
"If you'll listen to me I'm not ashamed of us I just don't know what to expect you know how the public gets and I can't stand to see get hate from it".
"I know baby but you can't always stop what other people are gonna say at the end of the day it just gonna be just me and you".
"Yeah I'm sorry for the way I handled things last night".she told you
"Me too sorry for yelling and cursing you out".
"It okay I lowkey deserve it".she told you before pulling you into a kiss.
"Lucia".you whined
"How about we post those pictures you want huh". she told you.
"Really you better not be joking with me lucy bronze".
"Really anything for my favorite girl". she said
"You're the best". You told her before jumping to your phone and deciding on what pictures to use and how to caption it. all in a days work let's just say everything went semi successful.
yourusername&Lucybronze
8 years with you and more to come liked by alexiaputellas lj10 mariona80 leahwilliamson
Comments limited
lj10 freaking finally 🙌
Leahwilliamson look at you both can't wait for the wedding
Alexiaputellas 💝
Woso.fan ik it amazing couple 👭
Bethmead we see you both
Alexgreenwood can't wait for wedding of the year 😍
lucyfan208 I thought she was with ona
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze fanfic#engwnt#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#fcb femení#fcbfemeni x reader#fcb femeni x reader#fc barcelona femeni#barcelona femeni#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso fic#woso fluff#woso angst#woso imagines#woso oneshot#woso one shot#woso#woso community#woso drama#barcelona women#pinkyqilfic
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Where Soul Meets Body - Ghost x Reader
Ao3 Link
Content Warnings - afab!reader, no pronouns used, reader has a call sign, canon typical violence, ghost's past :(, angst, smut, fingering, oral, thigh riding, PiV, unprotected sex, happy ending. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary - Simon Riley has been your best friend since the two of you were five. You've been in love with him since you were 15. It's too bad life has other plans
WC: 18k
Big thanks to @shotmrmiller for helping me with the last chapter and big thanks to @itsagrimm for listening to my rambling about this since January. I'm so happy to see it written and finished.
Rainy days in the United Kingdom we're far from abnormal. Seeing the bright sun with no clouds obstruction was abnormal. Seeing someone without an umbrella, even a jacket, in the rain was more than abnormal to you. Who in the world would set out to school without a jacket or umbrella? You approach the strawberry blond boy and tentatively hold your umbrella over his head. "What are you doing without an umbrella?" You ask, head tilting ever so slightly at the boy looking up at you. Oh, he's from your class, what was his name again?
"I don't have one."
"Did your mum not buy you one?" There was a small silence but you smile, "Well it doesn't matter now, I'm here and we can share." You give him your name and get the smallest smile from him.
"I'm Simon Riley." Ah, that's right, Simon Riley.
"Well then Simon, let's get to school." The umbrella was hardly large enough for you to fit under but you held it over his head as the rain came down. It rained all day but that was okay because you and Simon sat together all day. "I'll walk home with you so you don't get wet." You say while playing another round of Sorry!.
"You don't need to." Simon mutters as he moves his piece, his brown eyes downcast. You frown, brows pinching together as you try to piece together the logic behind that statement.
"I don't need to but I want to." You respond with a toothy grin. "It's what friends do." You say with confidence as you draw a card.
"We're friends?" Simon asks, his eyes suddenly meeting yours.
"Of course. We're sharing an umbrella." You laugh and move your piece according to the card. "And when you get your own umbrella, we can be umbrella friends." He repeats the term umbrella friends as if testing the waters and then smiles. A smile suits him much better than a frown you decide. During lunch, you offer part of your sandwich when you realize how sad his packed lunch is. "Here, I'm full." A lie but he hardly had half of what your mum packed. He looked at the triangularly cut sandwich with apprehension. "Please eat it." He continues to stare at it before picking it up and taking a bite then looking at you. When he sees your smile, he keeps eating it. "You have very brown eyes." You suddenly comment, unable to keep it to yourself. "I like them."
Simon easily fit into the routine of your life, each day after school he would walk home with you on Fridays. Together the two of you would chatter about anything and everything, conversation flowing easily. Somedays were worse than others, like right now while you treated Simon's busted lip with a bag of cold peas pressing against his cheek. "I'll beat him up." You promise. He seems different these days, he had always been a bit timid before but any loud noise scared him. You don't ask what happened, you could see it in his eyes that he didn't want to talk about it. Those same eyes were always looking down all the time now too, you wish he wouldn't. You like to see his eyes.
"You can't beat up Tommy." He insists.
"He beat you up, I'm just returning the favor." You huff as you dab the blood away from his lip and hand him a bag of cold broccoli. The attic of your home had become a safe haven to him and the walls and ceiling were decorated in drawings that the two of you had created over the last two years. A plate of triangle sandwiches sat half eaten on the box-made-table. "I'll just punch him. Serve him right." You huff and cross your arms after throwing the wet rag in the corner. Books and half put away board games were scattered all around the little attic.
"Please don't." Simon begs, his brown eyes downcast again.
"Will it make you happy if I don't?" You ask, twisting your shirt and pulling at the loose thread. Simon nods and you sigh, pushing your hair from your face. "Fine then but you're staying the night." You declare.
"Don't you need to ask your mum and dad permission?" He asks.
"They'll say yes. They always do." It was true, there hadn't been a time your mum hadn't let Simon sleep over if you had asked. Simon tapped your arm and handed you a book from the pile.
"Out of your head, let's read." He says while giving a frail smile. When did his smiles get smaller? You take the book from his hand, you hope it'll make him happy. A knock on the attic door as your mum peaks her head up.
"Are you staying for dinner Simon?" You mum asks and you jump on the opportunity.
"Can Simon stay the night mum? Please." You draw out your please and put on your best puppy eyes. Your mum looks between you and Simon who still held the bag of broccoli against his mouth.
"Of course he can stay. Just be quiet after eight pm." Your mum disappears back down the ladder towards the kitchen while you turn to Simon with a victorious smile on your face.
"Told you so."
You knock rapidly on his home's front door, "Come on Riley! I'm not gonna stand out here all day waiting for you." You would, of course you would. Rain or shine, warm or hot. The door swung open and you scrunched up your nose when Tommy was standing in front of you. "You smell like a sewer rat." You remark, "Where's Simon?"
"Don't you ever shut up?" Tommy snapped, "Simon isn't your boyfriend."
"He doesn't need to be my boyfriend in order for me to ask where he is." You immediately respond. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Tommy, Simon's younger brother, had been teasing the two of you for years since the first time he saw you walk Simon home. "Simon!" You say, a smile immediately appearing on your face as he finally appears behind his brother. "Come on!" You push Tommy out of the way and grab Simon's hand. "I got my drivers license." You boast, "Dad's letting me drive his truck around whenever he doesn't need it."
It was a rare day in spring when it wasn't raining and you weren't gonna let it go to waste. The windows of the truck were rolled down and the wind blew through your hair. The city of Manchester slowly disappears, the loudness exchanged for the quiet of the countryside.
"Don't look so grumpy Simon." You say when you notice he had his head in his hand and a scowl on his face. "You're acting like I'm driving you to your death."
"With how you drive, I'm sure you are." He retorts, a small smile growing on his face as you bark out a laugh.
"Well we're almost there so your death won't be quiet so soon." You remark. You slow the truck down before pulling off into a dirt road and coming to a complete stop. You turn the truck off and tuck the keys into your pocket and grab the basket you brought from the back of the truck. You look at the fence blocking the way into the flower field before you toss the basket over the fence before you launching yourself over the fence. "Come on Simon, just jump it!"
"Isn't this illegal?"
"Only if you get caught." You laugh and wink before helping Simon over the fence. The field of flowers stretch far and bumblebees buzz around from flower to flower. You open the basket and lay out the thin blanket onto the ground. Lowering yourself onto the blanket and you motion for Simon to join you.
"What's all this then?" He asked with a brow raised as you began to pull out a few cans of coke, a couple of sandwiches and apples.
"Happy 15th birthday." You say with a grin, "I got your present back at my house but I figured you'd like it out here." Simon stares at you, brown eyes wide as he looks between you and all the food you somehow managed to pack into the basket. You shift a little his heavy gaze as anxiety crept up as your cheeks turned red. "Do you not like it?" You ask.
Simon looked at you before a lopsided grin grew on his face, "It's great. Thank you."
"What are you planning to do after school is over?" You ask after taking a sip from your coke. "I mean, we only have next year left. Are you going to attend University?"
"I'm gonna take a butcher's apprenticeship."
"What?"
"My grades aren't doing great and I figured why not." Simon shrugged, "Not like it's a bad idea." You punched his shoulder lightly and glared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling Riley? You know I would have helped." The wind blows softly, the flowers and grass rustle, birds sing in the distance. "You're a smart man Simon, if this is what you want to do," You take a steadying breath, "then I'll support you."
Simon smiles at you, "You took it better then my mum did at least." He sighs and takes a bite from his apple.
"She just wants what's best for you." You say, softening your voice. If there was one thing you learned about Simon Riley after these five years, it's that he loves his mum more than anything. You lean against him, coke can still in hand as the silence blankets the space between you and him. After a few minutes of silently eating and drinking, he nudges you.
"Look." He whispers and points to a flower by his side. You lean over and a massive smile grows on your face as you spot a very tired bumblebee resting within a flower. You look at Simon and feel something within yourself turn on or maybe become louder as you see his soft gaze at the sleeping bee. Suddenly, you wanted him to look at you with that same soft expression.
"You know Daisy?" Simon asks one day while you were driving to the flower field. It had become a place to get away from school and home, away from all the stresses of life for at least a few hours. Daisy was a classmate in the same year, you had never been close with her but you had grown up with her the same as you had with Simon.
"Of course, Daisy Lockmon right?"
"Yeah." There's something in the way he says it that makes your heart clench. It's the softness of it, the fondness and the soft sigh, even the sort of dreamy look in his eyes you spot in the mirror as he gazes out into the countryside.
"Yeah?"
"I'm dating her. She asked me out a few days ago." Few days ago. Why did that sting so fucking much? You smile at him as you grip on the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white and your fingers go numb. It doesn't compare to the squeezing grip of whatever is holding your heart. No, you know who holds your heart and he doesn't even know it. It's my fault, I never told him. You try to reason with yourself but it doesn't stop the hurt.
"Congratulations then. Daisy is a sweet girl."
A few months later, you feel like you're going to throw up. You fight back any words threatening to come out of your mouth besides something good and kind because he doesn't deserve your anger or sadness. Simon doesn't know, you keep reminding yourself, you're just his best friend that he's confiding in. Just the person he's grown up with since ten years old, just the person who treated his busted lips, cuts and bruises. Just his best friend. Not the girl, not Daisy Lockmon who he thinks he loves. He probably does love her, you've never seen him look at someone the way he does Daisy.
You lay in the field, something that allows your stress to melt away, does nothing for you. Not as Simon lays next to you, not as you think about the times before all of this you could have said something. Simon says nothing, you say nothing and the two of you just watch the clouds float by. Simon sits up as he speaks, "I'm ready to leave, how about you?" Your heart clenches again, time in the field has been getting shorter and trips less frequent. You know it's not just because of his relationship and it's just how life is sometimes. He has his butcher's apprenticeship and you're studying for university classes but logic doesn't dictate emotion.
"In a moment, I'll catch up with you at the truck." You say, pasting on a smile. Simon shrugs and grunts as he gets up. You wait until you're sure he's already hopped the fence and heading towards the truck before you move over to his spot. Where the grass and flowers are flattened down into his shape, slowly you curl into the spot. For a moment, you imagined that you were the one he says he loves. For just a bittersweet moment, you pretend that you're his and he's yours.
"I'm joining the military." Your ceramic mug shatters on the floor. Just like that, everything comes crashing down. The world was still reeling from the twin towers attack in the United States, the sense of safety shattered in a terrorist attack.
"What?" That was the only word that could come from your mouth. You look at Simon with wide eyes, the cozy atmosphere of your flat turned cold. "You're joking. Right Simon?"
"I'm not."
"What about your apprenticeship Simon? You've been working as a butcher since you were 16. You're nearly done." The words come flying out of your mouth, "Simon-"
"I'm not asking you to understand my decision. I'm just telling you that I'm doing it and you can't stop me." You laugh bitterly and the sound is so foreign to both your ears and Simons.
"As if I could stop you Simon." You mutter, moving to grab a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered mug on the floor. "But why? You've never once shown interest in joining the military." The answer is clear, its reason why many people were joining the military and you already know his answer before he opens his mouth.
"The attack in the US." Of course, he doesn't elaborate. "I'm being sent to bootcamp in two weeks."
"Two weeks? That's hardly any time at all." You sigh and sink down into your couch, putting your face in your hands as you try to process everything. "What about Daisy?"
"Broke up with her." He says so plainly and with a shrug of his shoulders. You have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something back handed. You're not petty, you're not petty, you're not petty, is the thought running through your head but you can't deny how good it feels to know he isn't dating her anymore. Not like you have much of a chance now since he's going off to bootcamp. "She said she didn't want to date a guy in the military. It's a deal breaker apparently." It's not for me you think quickly.
The day comes too quickly, for once you wished life would slow down and let you soak up Simon's presence in your life. It's not like he's dying, he's just going off to bootcamp and then he'll be back is what you think to keep yourself from falling apart. Nearly nine years of friendship, spending hardly any time or going a long distance away from one another, now Simon will be gone for 14 weeks. Then he'll be stationed somewhere for two to six years. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him hard and burying your face into his jacket. "You be safe Simon Riley or I'll raise you from the dead."
He chuckles and pats your head, "Its bootcamp not an active war zone." You just shake your head and he wraps his arms around you. "But I'll be safe. I'll write to you every chance I get, I promise."
"Good."
"Simon?"
The last three years had passed quickly with the letters from Simon being the only rest stop between university studies and work. Grabbing your coat from the back, you sigh as you finally shut off the lights to the cafe you work at part time. With a small click, your work day was finally, finally over. You twist the lock on the cafe front door, struggling momentarily from your thick gloves. You turn to start walking towards your rather cheap flat and scream when you see a massive figure barely a foot away. The familiar voice hissing your name made the panic subside as quickly as it appeared.
"Glad to know you still have those pipes of yours." You look at Simon, he is barely illuminated by the street lights but you can still tell he's different now. He's no longer the slightly slender boy you knew three years ago. He wasn't slouching and made direct eye contact with you. You take him all in before you rush to him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his coat and drinking in his scent.
"Simon Riley," You whisper into his coat before pulling back to look up at him, "you've really grown. Come on, I'll let you crash at my place." He opens his mouth to argue but you're already pulling him along. You lead him to your flat, which isn't far away from your place of work thankfully. You kick off your shoes at the door and tell Simon to do the same. Placing a kettle on the stove to boil some water you then sit down and look at Simon. "So, what's brought you back here?" You ask.
Simon looks at you, drinking in your appearance. You look tired, worn down and ready to collapse. "I'm gonna fix my family." He finally answers after you cock your head to the side.
"You're... gonna fix your family?" You ask, leaning back as the words wash over you. Your heart hurt slightly for a reason you didn't want to understand, for a reason you didn't want to voice out loud or in your own head.
"Yes. And I'm not leaving until it is."
You purse your lips and get up to pour the boiling water into two cups. You put an earl gray tea bag with a splash of milk into the mug for Simon and a few cubes of sugar for your own cup of tea. You hand him the tea and sit back down as you continue to run through the implications of his choice. "Alright." You finally say. "You can crash at my place while you fix your family."
"You don't believe me." Simon states and you snap your head to look at him completely. "I know it sounds crazy but I'm stronger now. I can finally do what I've always wanted." He says between sips of his tea. "And I won't leave until it is fixed."
You sigh and set your cup down, "Fine." You get up and grab a piece of paper and a pen. You scribble down the addresses of Tommy's friends that he keeps couch surfing between before handing it to Simon. "This is what I know about Tommy. You'll probably get a confirmed address from your mom."
"And my dad?"
"Still an arsehole who comes and goes as he pleases." You grumble.
You walk out of your bedroom as quietly as possible. You peak over your couch and feel a weight lift off your chest. He was still here, right here in your flat. Your best friend, your rock and crush. Simon was finally back, not for the reason you might have fantasized about more than often you were willing to admit, but he was back. Love is such a funny thing, you think to yourself as you lay in bed. It had been three years since you had last seen him, hugging and barely holding back tears as he hopped on a bus to bootcamp. You hadn't cried that hard ever as you had cried on that day when he left. You turn onto your side and wipe away a few tears that leak from your eyes, at least he was here now.
You stand outside his family's home. You look down the street and recall the exact path that you could take to see your family. You had turned down Simon's offer to come inside, you didn't want to intrude on his reunion with his mother. You tap your foot as you lean against your truck, the same one you had driven to the fields outside of Manchester all those years ago. Simon steps outside of the house and hugs his mother one last time, his mouth moves but you don't hear what he has to say. His mother looks around him and looks at you. She's been crying you realize. You exchange a smile and a wave before she goes back inside of the house.
"Got the address?" You ask Simon as you both get into your truck.
"Got it." He confirms and gives you the address. You can't stop yourself from grimacing, of course it had to be that arsehole’s address. You hadn't left Simon in the dark of what was going on with his family while he was deployed and away. You didn't bother to spare details, okay, well maybe a few. Mostly about your own interactions with Tommy and his friends. But Simon didn't need to hear that, he had already sworn to come back and fix his family at least a dozen times since the third month. He didn't need to stress himself over you.
The car ride was quiet, the radio was off and the only sound was the wind blowing in through the open windows. You can feel the rage rolling off him but also the concern for his brother. The truck comes to stop outside of a dingy and unwelcoming flat building, you look at Simon and take him in. His brown eyes fill with determination and rage the longer he looks at the building. Finally, he opens the door, "I'm gonna get Tommy." He says before turning to go into the building after shutting the door. You let out a shaky sigh and let go of the steering wheel, looking at your shaking hands you try not to think too hard about what Tommy and his friends had done. What kind of people they were.
Tommy, your best friend's young brother had let his so-called friends push you around at your job until they were banned by your manager. Then they slashed your tires. Tommy hadn't changed, just become a carbon copy of dirt-bag father. Simon was made from something different, he was his mother's son, the undying love of his family and the ability to go with the flow of life. To never give up. You tense up as the people who lived in the flat walk past you, your breathing becoming more shallow as you watch them enter the flat. Oh god. Oh god. You panic and go to unbuckle yourself but struggle as your trembling hands only become worse.
You could hear the fighting coming from inside the house as you finally unbuckle yourself. There were five of them and only one of him. Oh god. Oh god. You push the truck door open and nearly tumble out, rushing to Simon's aid. You didn't expect to see him handling himself well against five other people while Tommy crouches low to avoid the fight altogether. One of the men goes to try and put Simon in a headlock, you do the only thing you can think of. You grab the man's jacket and pull him into your punch.
Simon places Tommy in the back seat, telling him he's going to bring him to the clinic and get him clean. You rub your throbbing knuckles, the pain from that one punch still echoing in your body. Simon gently takes your hand and inspects your knuckles, clicking his tongue. "You were never much of a fighter." He comments and looks up into your eyes. "But that was a good punch."
You're standing outside the clinic, the cold early spring wind making you pull your jacket closer to your body. Today was the day Tommy was going to be released, you weren't going to turn down Simon's request for you to be there. You had been spending more and more time with Simon and his mother. She is such a sweet lady, and loves her sons more than anything in the entire world. Simon looks at you and smiles, "I told you I would fix my family."
You roll your eyes, "I'll believe Tommy is clean when I see it." You grumble.
"I know he wasn't a good man back then,"
"He was a fucking mess Simon." You say, "He and his druggie friends cornered me once, demanded whatever money I had on me." You finally spill your guts, "I don't like him. You've been defending Tommy and his stupidity every day since I've known you." You look him right in the eyes, "He doesn't deserve your love or your mothers. As far as I'm concerned, he's been on my shit list since the first time I had to clean your bloody lip."
Simon looks at you for a long moment, your words hanging in the air until he pulls you into a hug. "I'm sorry." He mutters and hides his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze and he hugs you tighter, "I'm so sorry. You should have told me about that. I would have never-"
"Don't be sorry." You whisper quickly, "Never be sorry. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. Simon you're too kind, too forgiving."
"That's not true."
"I think it is."
Someone coughs and Simon lets go of you, his face breaking into a smile as Tommy stands in front of the two of you. He looks different, better. Healthy and alive. "Can we go home now?" He asks. You watch as Simon walks up to Tommy and wraps him in his arms.
"Of course."
You watch from the driver's seat as their mum opens the door and jump into Tommy's arms as Tommy hugs her tight. You can't help the smile that grows on your face when Simon joins the hug. Their mum looks at you and motions you to join them. You shake your head but Simon walks over and pretty much drags you from the car and into the group hug.
Later that night, their mum pulls you to the side. "Thank you." She says and takes your hand into hers, "for being there for my Simon."
"It really was nothing." You assure her and she shakes her head.
"You love him very much. Don't try to deny it, you've stuck by his side all these years and I've seen the way you look at him." She winks, "I just hope the two of you get together before I'm dead."
You can't help the quiet laugh that comes from your throat, "Me too." You whisper and look over at Simon who sits next to Tommy as they watch a football match after eating dinner.
You can hardly believe that you're sitting here at Tommy's wedding next to their mum as you comfort her. Simon stands as Tommy's best man as they trade vows. Beth looks beautiful as she always has. Long black hair and charming blue eyes, she was beyond kind as well. Perfect for Tommy who hadn't lost some of his snark but Beth softened him. You look at Simon and smile when you notice he's holding back tears as they exchange vows.
The wedding's reception wasn't filled to the brim with people but it was lively, friends and distant family members mingled as you sit at a table with a glass of champagne. Simon lets out a sigh as he sits next to you at the edge of the party. "Are you having fun?" You tease and Simon rolls his eyes. Joseph, Simon's nephew who you are sure will never know a day of fear or hurt like his uncle and father, is exchanged between party members and snuck small bites of cake.
"I'd let to get away from all of this for a moment." He admits as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. You remember when he was the sad strawberry blond boy that rainy school day. The way he avoided eye contact and others. You smile and take his hand.
"Then lets go."
You can faintly hear the music from the reception but other wise, this bench away from the party was the perfect place. The night sky is some what visible, with only the brightest stars being visible from all the light pollution of the city. A small breeze blows through your hair and you close your eyes to just soak in the moment. You open your eyes and Simon looks at you, softness in his eyes.
"What?"
"You're stunning." He says and you furrow your brows, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and neck. He leans in closer and cups your cheek, "Can I kiss you?" The words don't come to you but you nod frantically, feeling worried that he might change his mind for some reason. His eyes look between your eyes and lips before he leans in. The kiss is slow and he holds you like you might break or in case you want to leave. His lips are slightly chapped but soft and you vaguely wonder if he put on flavored chapstick earlier. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer and he takes the hint. The kiss turns from soft to practically ravenous as he holds you close, your mouth parts automatically and he slips his tongue in.
When you finally pull back to breath deeper, he looks at you with amazement. "I love you Simon Riley." You whisper and rest your forehead against his, "I have since we were 15. Don't leave me again Simon. Not if you can help it."
"You're gonna hate me then." He whispers as he holds you close. "I'm returning to duty in a month."
"I could never hate you Simon. Not in a million years. Just… write to me and when you go on leave again,” You take a steadying breath, “We can talk about what we are." He nods and you press your lips to his again.
You stand in the rain. You fucking hate the rain. It soaks through your black clothes and makes it stick to your skin. It mats down your hair and hides the tears that run down your face. There is no one here, no one but you and the priest at this funeral. How could this happen, you wonder. Everything was perfect. You look at the name on the gravestone. Tommy, Beth and Joseph, there's another gravestone a few feet away that has his mothers and fathers name on it. Simon is the only one who is buried alone. A bitter and petty choice from their distant family. Everyone thinks Simon did it. There was no proof to prove otherwise and it fit the story. A soldier returns home and suffers a PTSD breakdown and kills his entire family.
It didn't make sense. Simon was getting better, he promised he was getting better and attending therapy appointments. He loved Joseph, he loved his family and he loved you. He would have never done this. Maybe he would have murdered his father but the anger there was long and bitter, if he wanted to kill his father, he would have done it years ago.
Earlier last month, you had passed by a stand with different brochures. Some of them were for churches, others for activities to do with the family. Normally, you would have passed by it, eager to leave the store as quickly as possible. But you stopped this time and glanced at a particular brochure, you picked it from its spot and glanced over it. “You belong here.” A soldier is yelling while another is taking cover, inside are different recruiting offices and general information. You pocket it.
It was an impulsive decision. But the papers were filed and your two week notice already given. You didn't want to think about the consequences of what you were about to do, you just felt lost. University didn't matter, your cafe job didn't matter and every street in this fucking city reminded you of him. You decided if you were going to join the military. You had been accepted, the letter sat in your bag now that all of your items in your flat had been packed up and stored in your old childhood bedroom. This was just the last thing to do before the bus picks you up tomorrow morning.
You throw the roses in your hand into the caskets until you reach Simons. Your hand trembles as it holds the thorny rose, shakily you bring it to your lips and kiss the petals before tossing it into his grave. "I love you Simon Riley."
You watch as the city of Manchester flows past you like a river. It's raining again and the droplets obscure your vision of the outside world. People around you talk and you realize just how out of place you are. These are 16, 17 and 18 year olds with bright eyes and dreams. You vaguely wonder if Simon had sat in silence as he liked to do or if he had been dragged into a conversation. You glance at your duffle bag by your feet before leaning your head back and shutting your eyes. The bus ride would be a long one, you figure that some rest would make it faster.
Your name is called and you step forward, you hold onto the bag of items shoved into your arms. You listen to the drill sergeant yell that these are your items. You are responsible for maintaining and keeping track of all things in this bag. You realize, in a way that makes it difficult not to smile, that Simon was right. They are hard arses here.
You wonder why Simon never told you about this but he never seemed to tell you anything. You curse the dead man and curse yourself for being impulsive. Nearly done with university and you dropped out for him, for a dead man who was buried alone in his own grave. You use your anger to make it to the end, your uniform is covered in mud and the sensation makes your skin crawl but you run forward towards the rope wall, swinging your rifle over your back. “Come on Private!” The drill sergeant screams at you, “I’ve seen injured men move faster than you do!” You grit your teeth as he mocks you.
The scratches that litter your body sting as you crawl through the mud and muck underneath the barbed wire with a rifle held close to your chest. You breathe out puffs of condensation in the air, you’re shivering and you keep your jaw clenched so your teeth don’t chatter. You keep crawling, inching like a caterpillar towards the end of this section and fight the urge to just lay there on the ground. The cold rain soaks through your clothes and you grunt when part of the barbed wire above you catches onto your leg again. “Fuck.” You hiss but you’re nearly there.
It's his job, you remind yourself, to try and break you. If Simon leaving didn’t break you, if him and his family dying didn’t break you then this fucking drill sergeant was not going to break you. You climb up the rope and grapple onto the next bit of rope, locking your legs with your ankles and you inch down the rope even as your hands burn.
That night as you sit in the corner of the mess hall, you itch at the bandages wrapped around your hand. Whatever salve the lady in the med bay had slathered onto your hand hadn’t done much to cool the burning. You know it's counterintuitive to scratch at it but who was going to stop you? You were an adult now and could suffer the consequences of your stupid actions. Like not demanding Simon give you answers on why he was pulling away after finally confessing his feelings. You clench your fist and smother those feelings with the pain you feel.
No matter how many times you try to remind yourself there's no point in focusing on the past you can’t stop. How can you stop? Everything you’ve done has been for him and now he’s gone and you’re still doing things for him. You look around the mess hall at the different groups of fellow trainee’s and know you’ll never have that kind of connection with anyone else. Simon was it. Your best friend since childhood, your first crush and first heartbreak. You wander outside and sit on a stack of crates near the mess when the talking and clanking of silverware grows too much.
The night is cool, the sky is clear from the rain that had poured so hard earlier but you can’t see the stars anyway. You go to itch at your hand again when a drill sergeant comes around the corner. You stiffen up and immediately get up to salute but he dismisses you before you even get your hand to your forehead. “Private, why aren’t you in the mess eating?”
“Lost my appetite, sir.” You reply, “Figured some fresh air would do me some good.” You go to scratch at your hand again and his eyes snap to the motion.
“Private, did the nurse not provide you with burn cream?” He asked and it was weird having the man who yelled at you all day suddenly become concerned for your well-being.
“She did, sir, it just itches.” You explain and the drill sergeant makes a face, for a second you worry that he will demand that you return to the med bay again. Instead, he nods.
“Dismissed Private. Get some rest.” You nod and scurry away to your barracks.
The helicopter’s wings slow but any flyaways in your hair whip and stick to your face anyways. After serving in the SAS for five years, you had been picked by Chief station Laswell and Captain John Price to be a part of the 141 task force. You couldn’t believe you had finally done it, all these years of serving and you start to finally believe that you might’ve done Simon some justice. All the broken bones, bruises and scars are worth it if it means he’s looking down on you fondly. You look between the four men in front of you. You recognize Captain Price immediately with his boonie hat and well groomed mutton chops. He extends his hand which you take and shake with a firm grip. “Boys, this is Gator. They’ll be joinin’ our task force startin’ today.”
The man standing next to Price smiles at you, beautiful white teeth with a stunning smile and soft brown eyes. He has a scar on his cheek and you wonder how he got it as you shake his hand, “This is Sergeant Garrick.” Price says and you beam back at him.
“A pleasure to meet you Sergeant.”
“No need for that, just call me Gaz.” He assures you and lets go of your hand. You turn to meet the third man and before you can even open your mouth or extend your hand to shake, he’s grabbing yours with a grip tight enough to shatter a few bones. He has a stupid mohawk haircut that he somehow makes work, crystal blue eyes and you can tell that he’s a little mischievous.
“I’m Sergeant MacTavish but e’eryone calls me Soap.” He laughs, warm like an early summer day, when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I’ll tell ye why later.” He promises with a wink.
“Oi! Johnny, stop hoggin’ the new meat.” You turn to the voice and have to stop yourself from taking a step back just so you could look at the man fully. He’s fucking huge. Broad shoulders, wearing all black and a skull mask to hide his face. You can barely make out his brown eyes from under all that eye black. His accent is rough, with a voice that gives away how much he smokes. He looks down at you, like you suspect he has to most people, and you want to slink away into whatever hole he thinks you crawled out of. Despite this, you stick your hand out for him to shake.
“And this is your Lieutenant, Ghost.” You have to stop yourself from snorting. Ghost, how fitting for a man literally wearing a skull mask. He grips your hand and gives it a firm shake as his eyes burn holes into your soul. You look at his hand when you feel something other than familiar flesh, it's a glove. Even funnier, its skeleton gloves. It sends you nearly into a giggle fit, yes this man is intimidating to a point where you would have been shaking in your boots a few years ago. But he’s unironically wearing skeleton gloves. How is that not funny? He gives you a firm shake but just as quickly removes his gloved hand from yours. “Alright Gator, Ghost will give you a quick tour around here and then I want you to report for training at 0500 hours.”
The tour is silent besides the simple sentences Ghost speaks and you’re that sure he wouldn’t if Price hadn’t put him on the spot for giving you the tour. “This ‘ere is the training hall, this is where yer expected to be tomorrow.” He gruffly says, stiff as a board. You nod and nearly jump out of your skin when someone wraps their arm around your shoulders.
“There ye are! I was tryin’ tae find ye.”
“Sergeant.” Ghost says gruffly and Soap rolls his eyes before removing his arm. “They are busy.”
“Away an bile yer heid.” Soap says with a laugh, “I ken that yer aboot as excited fer this tour as they are.” You didn’t need to see Ghost roll his eyes to know he did, it was just in the way the air shifts around the three of you. “Lemme take over the rest of the tour aye?” Ghost sighs but concedes which confirms that he would really rather be anywhere else than giving the FNG a tour. “Good lad.” Soap chuckles and pats Ghost’s shoulder.
Ghost leaves quickly for being a man so massive and Soap turns to you, “Dinnae mind him, he’s a big grump.” You snort and laugh while nodding in agreement. “Alright, let's continue this tour.” Soap claps a hand on your back and for the rest of the day, with breaks for food of course, he showed you around. He was certainly better at it then Ghost who acted like he had been asked to travel across the sahara desert while carrying you.
“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap groans while he stumbles back from you. Sweat sticks to your forehead and your usual hairdo is ruined but so is the way of sparring and training. “I see why they call ye Gator.” He grumbles as he holds his head. “Ye fuckin’ death rolled me.” Soap accuses and it was true. You have the strength to take down men bigger than you in not only height but sheer mass. It was a skill you had honed for the past several years ever since you figured it out in bootcamp.
You wrap your arms around him as he tries to pin you to the mat and roll. You twist with all your might and switch the position then without a second thought you slam your head against his. The force knocks your brain around and the headache you’ll get later is going to be absolutely terrible but the man under you groans and holds his forehead. “I yield! Holy shite.” He curses as you immediately back away from him. You glance around at the group of people who had made it this far into the training and then meet the eyes of your drill sergeant who, if you weren’t mistaken and didn’t have a concussion, looked almost proud.
That night as you hold an ice pack against your forehead and sit outside the mess hall away, he approaches again. “Never seen a private do that.” He says after immediately acknowledging your salute and telling you to be at ease. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do that before.” You sheepishly shrug.
“I didn’t want to lose.”
“And so you didn’t.” A silence hangs in the air as the crickets chirp and you wonder if that's an owl’s hoot you hear. “I think you're going to have a nickname before you even leave camp.” He says, “You have the other sergeants wantin’ to call you Gator.”
“Gator?” You ask even if you understand the implications. You guess you did a kind of death roll that poor buy but Gator? Really?
“Better than some poor sod who got named Dirt because he ended up with a mouth full of dirt after tripping on the 20 mile march.” You chuckle at that.
“I guess Gator is much better than Dirt.”
“That’s the spirit. You better get some rest for tomorrow, Private.” He says before walking away and just like that time, leaving you to sit in the cool night air before you heed his warning.
You grit your teeth as Ghost ignores you again. You’re just trying to get him to sign from fucking paperwork Captain Price asked of you. “Lieutenant I need-”
“Not now sergeant.” Ghost says as he walks away from you and you want to scream. Its been like this the entire time you’ve been on this team. At first you thought it was his way of hazing you, act like a dickhead and see if the FNG breaks. Well you haven’t broken, you’ve only doubled down because every time he acts like this you keep being reminded of Simon and how he wouldn’t have given up.
At least Gaz and Soap were more open to you being on their task force now that months had passed. Although you doubt if Soap had ever disliked the idea of you being on the force. You barely duck Gaz’s punch but aren’t fast enough to catch his leg before it slams full force into your side. You grab it before he can bring it back and yank on it so he falls onto the floor, he rolls over before you can pin him down. You stare at each other for a moment before you lunge at him like a rabid dog without a leash.
He steps to the side and then grabs the back of your shirt collar to slam you down into the mat. You squirm and fight to keep him from pinning your arms back but it's no use. And in this position, death rolling him was nearly impossible. And you’ve definitely been trying. “Distracted Gator?” Gaz asks as he pants and you snarl back at him before you let out a meek ‘I yield’. He releases you immediately and you rub your wrists. “Broken?”
“Negative.” You say as you walk over to grab your bottle of water.
Watching you spar from the corner was Ghost. He observes the way you fight and the way you wiggle out of every attempt to pin you until the last. If it wasn’t for your infamous ability to death roll, he’s sure you would have ended up being called Weasel. And wasn’t that an amusing thought? Still better than Soap. “Ye stalkin’ the FNG.” Soap teases and Ghost glances down at Soap with what he knows is a deadpan expression. Or at least deadpan eyes. Mask and all that.
“You stalkin’ me?” Ghost shoots back and Soap grins this feral grin that makes Ghost groan inwardly because that grin meant only one thing. Dog with a fuckin’ bone, thats what Soap is when he thinks he’s smelt something out. “Don’t start MacTavish.”
“Oh its MacTavish it is?” Soap feigns hurt as he clutches his chest. “Ye wound me sir.”
“It is when yer about to say somethin’ god awfully stupid.”
“Yer no fun L.T.” Soap laments and Ghost rolls his eyes while shaking his head at Soap’s antics. Soap looks past Ghost and to Gator who is talking with Gaz on the bench while the two of them drink water and give the other advice. “Slippery thing they are.” Soap comments and Ghost nods. “Dinnae think I’ve ever seen someone slip out of your hold befure.”
“Is tha’ the reason yer botheirn’ me Sergeant?”
“Botherin’ ye? Nae sir, jus’ wanna see how Gaz manages to take them down.” Soap says, a half truth and they both know it.
“They gave him a hard time too.”
“Do ye think tha’ they oil up befure every sparrin’ match?” Soap says with a smile and Ghost rolls his eyes despite the small smile growing beneath his mask. You look up and notice Soap and Ghost which immediately makes him want to flee the scene. Every time you lock eyes with him, it sends him back to his time in Mexico. You’re a constant reminder and he wants you gone. Simon is dead and he’s not sure why you even joined the fucking military in the first place. Last he knew you were close to finishing off your degree, did you drop out to join this place?
Ghost grits his teeth as he shoves the memories of both Roba and you back into the box he had stuffed the two of you into years ago. He can’t open the box for one without the other escaping. You offer him a small smile and he turns on his heel. He walks as quickly as he can back to his private quarters, perks of being an officer and also being dead he guessed. He slams his door behind him and marches right into the bathroom. He yanks off the mask and stares at himself. He stares at the scars across his face, his broken one-too-many-times nose and the scar that cuts his lip. He takes stalk of his flaws within his face, the one you had seen and hadn’t recoiled from.
He wonders if you even suspect that its him and his chest hurts at the thought that you’ve forgotten him. But he knows he hasn’t earned his right back into your life, he’s dead. He can never be the man you need or want, he’s different now. Much more scarred than when he returned from Mexico, he’s brash and rude. He doesn’t like people and he doesn’t like that he still wants to be near you. It’s irrational, it’s stupid and there’s nothing he can do about it but try and get to you to quit.
“Captain Price told me to give this to you.” A Corporal says, clearly shaking in his boots, as he hands Ghost a file. “A-and he told me that he wants you in the briefing room.”
“Dismissed Corporal.” Ghost says and the man scurries off. Ghost looks at the file and opens it, the first thing he sees is that it’s a duo op. The second thing he sees is that you’re the one coming along. “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters as he looks at your little picture papercliped to the top of the page next to his faceless one.
“He always does that.” You groan to Gaz as you watch Ghost turn on his heel and leave once you lock eyes with him. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, “It's been months.”
Gaz shrugs, “Ghost is an enigma, when you start to think you know him you find something else about him. That man has secrets upon secrets.” You frown at that statement. Obviously he was hiding his face to protect his identity and of course that made you naturally curious but you’ve never pressed about it. He’s quiet and efficient if any of the stories told you by Gaz and Soap were anything to go by. And now he’s a secret keeper.
Who are you Ghost?
”The group that had been inhabiting the old soviet base are still lingering around and might return when they realize that they’ve left behind a very important piece of information.” Captain Price says and points to the projected map on the wall. “You’ll need to be fast and efficient. Is that clear?” His blue eyes scan over the two of you and both of you echo a ‘yes sir’ at the same time. “Good, get your gear and be ready, you’re wheels up in two hours.”
You sit at the table in the briefing room, bouncing your leg up and down under the table as Captain Price goes over what the mission objective is and what intel you and Ghost will be going in with. The mission is in Siberia, the objective is to get an old usb drive from a recently re-abandoned USSR base. You glance over at Ghost who hasn’t stopped looking at you this entire time, only dragging his eyes away from you when Captain Price addresses him specifically. His brown eyes seem to be trying to burn holes into your very soul so you try to match it. This would be your first duo op with Ghost and you would not be pushed around during it.
“Yes sir.” You say and leave the room after being properly dismissed. You look at the file in your hand, the information covered in the briefing summarized in the file with certain things blacked out. Like the fact this is in Siberia or that it’s an old soviet base that had been taken over by a terrorist group for a short while. You worry about that fact, if this base had been well and truly abandoned, why would the group set up there? Siberia wasn’t exactly a very hospitable environment and would take a certain amount of resources to deal with. Not just any kind of terrorist group would be able to afford those expenses.
“What’s got ye frownin’ so hard?” Soap asks and you jolt, not even aware that Soap had come up to you. He glances at the file and whistles, “Yer on a mission with L.T?”
”Somethin’ wrong with that? Something I should be worried about?” You ask, glancing behind Soap to make sure that specter wasn’t there.
“Nae, nothin’ ye should worry about besides the stick up his arse.” Soap jokes and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Soap grins, “There’s that smile.” Soap pinches your cheek and you swat at his hand.
”What are you? My aunt?”
”Nae I’m worse.” Soap laughs as he goes to pinch your cheek again. You squeal and laugh as you take off towards the armory and Soap gives chase. You eventually make him leave, shoo-ing him off so you can change into your gear. The gear is heavy but familiar, a comforting kind of weight that you always mourn once an op is over. Tightening the strap of your vest until you felt like it was secure enough and doing the same thing with the gun holster on your thigh.
”You tighten it anymore and you’ll lose blood flow.” Ghost grunts and you stop yourself from startling a little. Ghost walks up to you and loosens the straps himself a little before your brain starts working again. You slap his hands away and glare up at him.
”I am perfectly capable of knowing when to stop tightening my straps.” You hiss. You had been in the SAS long enough to know your preferences and the fact that he is trying to baby you is insulting at best and downright disrespectful at worst. Ghost stares down at you, brown eyes dead but also filled with some kind of emotion you can’t place. He says nothing else, doesn’t even grunt, before he turns to get his gear on. You huff and finish preparing your items for the op.
You go over the file one last time while on the flight to Siberia, flipping through the different pages and you can’t fight off the gut feeling that something isn’t right. You bounce your leg as you look at the map of the base, for an old soviet base, it's small. Granted, you don’t know how big USSR bases in Siberia tended to be but this is just too small. You glance at Ghost and contemplate mentioning this to him but since the armory he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Let alone even look your way which would normally be a reprieve but right now you wish he would look, just so you’d feel less awkward starting a conversation. You remind yourself that he’s a Lieutenant, he knows more than a Sergeant such as yourself. You need to trust your commanding officer.
Ghost can feel the warmth from you, like you had leaked a part of yourself into his gloves and now he can’t get rid of it. He doesn’t understand why he had approached and went to fix your straps, really they are too tight for comfort, but when you had slapped his hands away it was like a shock had gone through him. Like his entire system had been rebooted from the simple touch, now he can’t even bear to look at you. He can feel the weight of your gaze on him though and that’s how he knows that he acted out of character. He clenches his fist so tight his knuckles are cramped when he opens it again, he wishes you would just say what you want to say.
He wishes you would yell at him so he would have something to tell Price about, to maybe get you booted off the team. He’s been a prick to you, moving your stuff in the rec room, eating your food and being condescending. What kind of drill sergeant you had, he didn’t know but they must’ve turned your will into steel. Or maybe you were always like that, you hadn’t given up on him when you got a glance at his life at home. You treated his bloody noses and busted lips, you convinced your parents to let him stay over as often as possible. You even went with him to get Tommy despite the shit Tommy and his shitty friends had put you through.
Ghost clenches his jaw, no matter what, this is better for you. He just needs to get you to quit or maybe transfer to some kind of safer job in the military if you’re so hell bent on staying. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you dropped out of university. He steals a glance and sees you looking at the file the same way you would look at study notes before a test.
You were right. Of course you were fucking right. Why do you have to be right? The base is much, much bigger than the intel said and worse is the fact that its not completely abandoned. “Get the fuck out of there!” Ghost yells over comms and you’re so close to just tearing the wiring in half so you don’t have to listen to him. You turn another corner, refilling the ammo in your pistol as the sound of pounding footsteps echo down the long concrete hallways of this underground base. You wait for the man to turn the corner and shoot him right between the eyes, the muzzle on your pistol only does so much and the sound bounces off the walls. ”I said to get out of there soldier!”
You snarl, “I’m getting this fucking USB drive, fuck off!” You say into comms as you run down the halls. Lights flicker above you and distantly you can hear soldiers yelling. Just a few more turns, you tell yourself as you slide into a wall, using your arms you push off it and keep going. Once out of this god forsaken underground, NOT abandoned, USSR base you’d die happy never seeing another concrete hall. You slam the door open to the server room stored deep in the base and lock it behind you, hoping that might spare you some time between you and soldiers surely running down the halls towards you.
”Don’t ignore me Sergeant!” His voice comes out warbled, likely because you’re so far underground. You clench your jaw so hard your teeth hurt as you fling open different desk drawers, toss everything onto the desk in search of the USB they sent you here for in the first place. After six desks, you realize there is no way there is a USB.
”Fucking CIA intel.” You grab an unused USB from a desk and jam it into the nearest computer. “Fucking lucky I took that damn class.” You mutter to yourself as you bypass the passwords and begin to download the information.
”Sergeant! I said get out of there, use your bloody ears!”
”I have to download everything myself!” You yell into the comms, “The intel was shite!” You slam your pistol into the PC you’re not currently using. “Fucking CIA.”
”I don’t care! I’m pulling us from this mission.”
”I’m getting this USB Lieutenant, you’re welcome to chew me out once I’m back on the surface.” You snap, “Going dark.”
”Don’t you da-“ You rip the wires out of your comms and throw the damn thing onto the floor.
Ghost yells into the comms again but only gets static back, he looks down at the base from the scope of his sniper. It looks abandoned, it looks small and easy to navigate but he heard what you said. He knows that its all a facade, that the terrorist group had found tunnels to another base nearby and have been smuggling weapons and food between those tunnels, hardly ever having to go outside at this base. Which is what led the intel team to believe its been abandoned and therefore an easy op. His heart is pounding against his chest and it hurts from how hard its beating against his chest, he keeps trying the comms. “Gator! Gator turn your comms back on!” He snarls into the mic but still nothing.
It’s then that it dawns on him that you didn’t just turn comms off, you ripped the wiring out. “God damn it.” He grunts as he gets off the ground, the snow disguising him falls to the ground as he hauls his sniper up and buries it under the snow between two trees. He pulls out his shitty cracked phone, that he frankly refuses to replace. He knows why and its not because he doesn’t like the newer versions. It’s because this one has those pictures of you, the version of you that hadn’t turned your back on civilian life yet. The version of you that makes him feel kind of sick for looking at now that he knows you now.
He opens up his map to the coordinates to the nearest safe house, and grabs his pistol before he puts his phone away. He sighs and makes his way down towards the base that must be crawling with enemy terrorists but no one gets left behind. And he’s not about to let you die down there, his grip on his pistol tightens for just a second before he forces his fist to relax. He saunters his way in, everyone is far too distracted with chasing you down to pay attention to the cameras. He slides down the ladder into the base and is immediately greeted with the muffled sound of an alarm. “Fucking hell.” He mutters as he readies his pistol and knife.
You grunt, push the metal cabinet against the door, pushing through the pain in your thigh to do so. By the time it’s in place, you collapse against the wall next to it, grunting at the pain that shoots up your thigh in quick bursts. You look at the bullet wound and can’t help the disgust that crawls up your face when you realize it's pumping blood out in the rhythm of your heart beat. It’s funny, you’ve been shot before but you never had the time to look at it. It makes sense that it would do that though. You lean your head back against the concrete wall and can’t help the sob that rips it way out of your throat. Not because you’re going to die, not entirely because of that. Because you’re going to die in a concrete box alone.
You smear your bloody hand against the wall, wiping it off as you fumble with your shirt, pull just enough fabric out and rip it. No, you think, you’re not going to die here. Anywhere but in fucking Siberia surrounded by enemies and in a damn concrete room underground. You wrap the torn fabric around your thigh, just above the wound and wrap it tightly. So tightly you can actually feel the blood flow being slowed and this time on purpose. You check the bullets in your pistol and laugh when you see only two. “And I’m fucking out.” You mumble just as you hear someone’s boots echo outside of the room. You rise on shaky legs and bite your tongue to keep from crying out from the pain but walk over to the corner. You raise the gun and point towards the metal cabinet that is rocking from the force of what must be either several people pushing or one big motherfucker.
You don’t pray, no sense in praying right now. Even if you did ask for forgiveness you wouldn’t get it, the blood on your hands is more than any person can justify, not even God because it is a rule. Thou shall not murder. You huff out a laugh at that, well you’ve certainly sinned. The metal cabinet comes crashing down and in bursts three men. Fuck. You fire your last two shots and take down the first two but when the third enemy hears the gun click, he laughs. It’s an ugly and horrible laugh, one that expresses his entire arrogance of you being in this situation. Wounded and without any ammo, your knife left behind in some fuckers neck a few corners ago. “You lose.” He taunts as he walks closer and your leg finally loses feeling, you slide down the wall as you stare at the man who is going to hopefully bring you death.
You’re reminded of that quote you read once, When I die, bury me in the woods, the wolves will be kinder to me than any man. And if you weren’t about to meet your end, you’d laugh at the fact you can’t even remember the woman who said it. You hope she got her wish. The man raises his pistol and presses it to your temple. You hear a bang echo in the room and expect for it all to be over but you grunt when the man lands on you. “What the fuck?” You mutter as you struggle to push the weight of a dead man off of you. He’s pulled off of you and you look up at the bloody skull face plate, “Aren’t you just a life saver?” You quip before you throw up.
Ghost huffs when you pass out after throwing up and narrowly avoiding his boots. He hauls you up and over his shoulder, tucking your pistol into your thigh holster. Trying to get you up the ladder was hell, he was constantly afraid that his grip would loosen and you’d fall to your death. The walk to the safe house is about half way done when he feels your stirring. He grips you tighter just in case you try to flail around and attempt to land yourself in the snow.
When you come to, you realize that you’re over someone’s shoulder. Just as you’re about to flail around, the memory of Ghost standing over you. “Awake now?” Ghost asks, his voice rough as always and that reminds you of someone you used to know. You give your reply in the form of a groan which is all that seems to want to leave your mouth. “We’re about an hour away from a safe house.”
”And I wasn’t told?” You snap, anger pushing past the way you feel like you’re going to throw up if you speak again.
”Need to know.”
”Well I might’ve needed to know!” You flail your arms around harmlessly before you collapse back to being a rag doll on his back. He doesn’t respond and when you think he’s about to return to his normal grumpy silence, he breaks it.
”What the fuck were you thinkin’?” He snaps and you jolt awake from the half sleep you had unknowingly slipped into. “Ripping your comm wires out and going dark. What the fuck Sergeant?”
”I wasn’t able to focus with you screaming at me to abandon the mission.” You immediately jump to defend, “I got the damn USB drive with the intel they need, I completed the mission.” You don’t even realize that he’s reached the safe house until he nearly kicks the door in because the doorknob is frozen. He practically tosses you onto the couch before slamming the door shut. “I completed the objective.” You nearly snarl out.
”You failed to follow simple orders to retreat.” He slams his pistol and knife down on the table, “You nearly died.”
”Yeah, well it didn’t seem like you’d care all that fucking much if I did! If I hadn’t gotten the USB,” You pull the damn thing from your front vest pouch and throw it onto the table. “then the entire thing would have been a waste!”
”I don’t care about the USB, if you’re in danger like that you follow my damn orders! I can’t lose you!” Ghost grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you just a little. You look at him, feeling confusion creep up before it is swallowed down by anger.
”What?”
”Forget about it.”
”No. You’ve been treating me like a damn nuisance the minute I joined the task force and now you suddenly care? Why now huh? Why now? Because you sure didn’t act like I mattered very much.”
”I said forget about it.” He snarls but you go to stand on shaking legs
”No fuck that! Fuck you Ghost! What changed?” You keep hounding him until he slams his fist down the table and rips off his mask.
He says your name gently, like he’s trying to soothe an animal but you’re frankly ready to sink your teeth into his skin if he tries to approach. “You didn’t even have the courage to write? Not even a little postcard? Something! Anything! To let me know you’re not dead? You’re lucky I’m not able to walk.” You spit.
Rage boils up in you so quickly, so quickly you aren’t able to express it all just through yelling. It burns you up, sets you on fire and throws lighter fluid into that inferno any time you think it's about to burn a little less. It’s all consuming anger mixed with all those years of grief that you never properly addressed, just slapped a bandaid on called military life and carried on. Hot tears run down your face as you scream and rage at him. You even throw something at him, though he ducks out of the way easily. “You fucking bastard! You bastard! Fuck you Simon Riley!” You scream as you cry, head pounding from something. The pain in your thigh? The rage in your temple? Or how hard you’re crying? Probably a mixture of all three. “You’re dead! I buried you! I went to your funeral Riley!” You throw something else at him, probably an MRE.
”Would you listen-“ Simon tries to say but you immediately cut him off. Hearing his voice makes whatever walls you have built up over these five years crumble so easily. You can’t let him speak or else you’ll fall into his arms and just cry. And you need to be angry because you deserve to be angry.
”No! You listen to me Simon Riley!” You ball your hands into fists, “Why? Why did you treat me like shit? Why did you undermine me at every turn? It’s bad enough that you let me believe that you were dead! Wasn’t that enough for you? But of course it wasn’t, you had to make my life hell because you met me again!”
”Shut up!” Simon finally snaps, his brown eyes swirling with fury and guilt. “I had my reasons and if you would just-”
”Well what were they then? Huh? I’m all fucking ears.”
”You keep interrupting me. If you didn’t-“
”You had months to come clean Simon! Years if you count the time before I met you again and after all that time you couldn’t just be a man and tell me? Couldn’t even send me a hint that you were alive?” You slam your fist into the wall, you ignore the pain that shoots right up your arm into your shoulder. You glare at him through your tears and wipe at them frantically. “You didn’t even try.”
”I did it to protect you! And if you’d just let me speak I’d tell you all the reasons I had to not tell you or even let you think I was alive!” Simon finally manages to say, he goes to speak again and you hold up your hand.
”Don’t talk to me Simon Riley.” You say as you wipe away any tears from your cheeks that hadn’t rolled all the way down. Your eyes burn and your stomach hurts from just how much you’re feeling right now. Deep down, past the anger you feel relief because he’s alive. Your Simon is alive and maybe more rough around the edges with a scar bisecting his lip, a nasty scar along his cheek and nose broken and not properly set several times. You’re also sure his eye bags have increased tenfold since you last saw him but his eye black keeps that little fact hidden from you. His teeth are chipped and broken but his brown eyes still hold that same depth. You can tell he still smiles the same and he’s still that overprotective boy who had scared off your date that one time just by opening the door.
That’s still your Simon Riley. But damn him to the deepest hell and back for making your heart hurt so badly. “Fine.” He grits out before he marches to what you assume is the safe house bathroom and slamming the door behind him.
There is something wrong with me. That is Simon’s first thought when he looks at himself in the mirror that must be old because his reflection is warped. There is something wrong with me and it's not the scars or the way my joints ache when I stand or sit down. There is something wrong with me and it makes my blood run black. Simon wonders if he had been born wrong. He suspects he’s always been this way, he was his father’s son after all, doomed to be awful to all of those he knows. To use them and drain them dry until they cut him off or he tosses them away. He doesn’t want you to be part of that cycle, to be a part of the cycle that always results in those close to him dying.
He already lost his family, he couldn’t lose you too so he cut you out completely. It was better if you thought he was dead. You were better off thinking he was dead in the ground even if it hurt you, even if it hurt him. And fuck did it hurt that first year, every time something happened he wanted to call you or text you. Tell you all about it late at night in a part of base where no one would care if he was awake if they even dared to approach him at all. Simon wanted to return to you more then anything but Ghost hadn’t dug himself out of that grave and lost his entire family as consequence for not fucking dying just for you to meet that same fate. No, you’d be his only in memory. Maybe one day he’d stalk your social media and find that you’ve moved on. Hopefully out of that fucking city, working a good paying job with a man who deserved you.
And it didn’t matter how much that thought made his supposedly ice heart hurt. It didn’t matter because he was dead and there was nothing he could give you besides this rotting body and whatever love he could scrape together for you.
Simon looks at himself in the mirror, completely maskless and bare for what felt like the first time in years. It felt like his skin had been pulled away to show the maggots, rotting tendons and muscle underneath. Every tear that had left your beautiful eyes had felt like acid on his skin, every word thrown his way a well placed knife throw. He knew he deserved all that malice and if you didn't want to talk to him, then he wouldn’t talk to you. No matter how much he wants to.
The next two days go by slowly, it reminds you of the time you had to go through a bog. Slow movements and time seemed to slow to a fucking crawl as you traversed the bog to go around an enemy encampment so you could get the jump on them from behind. It didn’t matter that your clothes had been soaked through or that you could feel the cold of the water seeping into your bones. You kept going. So the same logic was applied here. Your bullet wound in your thigh eventually got treated properly, in silence of course. Simon had given you the first aid kit and you did your best with what you had. Digging out the bullet had to be one of the most painful experiences you’ve ever had.
Simon had wanted to step in and do it himself but he knew you’d sooner accept an infection then let him any closer then needed. By the end of the hour and several deep, guttural screams cut off only by the belt between your teeth, you had managed to pull the bullet out. You were quick to stitch the hole closed and to wrap it in bandages. When that was over, you only had enough strength to crawl onto the shitty couch and pass out.
The first day not talking to him was filled with tension. It was so thick you could cut it with your knife, if you had it that is. It’s still stuck in that asshole’s neck which sucks because it was a good neck. You were hesitant to put any pressure on your wound, terrified of ripping your frankly shit stitches and increasing the chances of you getting an infection. You spent the entire day cleaning and taking apart your gun with occasional glares sent to Simon if he tried to enter the same room as you and stay for more than a few minutes.
He understood your anger, he did, but he couldn’t stand it at the same time. He wants to sit right next to and soak in your presence in a way he hadn’t allowed himself before this. He hadn’t bothered to put his mask back on and when he had stepped out of the bathroom without it the first time you had jerked like someone had pinched you. You could still tell he had blonde hair from his eyebrows but seeing his blonde hair in a buzz cut had felt like an electric shock. That was still your Simon even all these years later and that made you angrier. How could he? How dare he? After all these years, he looked the same despite the scars on his face but you? Do you still look the same despite the weariness in your eyes and being grief eaten.
The only word he spoke to you was, “There’s a blizzard coming in tomorrow.” You had only given a grunt in acknowledgement which he had to admit, stung. How many times had he responded to you like that while trying to get you to quit and transfer somewhere else? Far too many times, he ran a gloved hand through his prickly hair as he shook his head. God he had been so fucking stupid and stubborn. As it turns out, the blizzard couldn’t wait until tomorrow or maybe it was the next day. The wind shook the entire safe house, the walls creaked and groaned from the force of it. The windows were covered by snow or maybe it was a white out, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t even want to lift your head to check. You were fucking freezing despite your thermals and the blanket. Your teeth chattered as you pulled the blanket even closer and closed your eyes. Your cheeks were numb and you could barely feel your nose, your fingers actually hurt from how cold they were.
You blew more warm breath into your cupped hands, your entire body shivered as another burst of wind caused the house to groan from the weight of it. You glanced around the living room/kitchen area, the fireplace was boarded up but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t, you had no wood. The only thing of light was a battery powered lamp that you had been surprised still worked. You knew where Simon was, in the only other room besides the bathroom, the bedroom. Getting up those stairs would have been impossible for you the first two days here with your injury. Hell, you even doubted if you had enough strength to do it now even with the protein and nutrient packed MRE’s given to you for rations. But you suspected if you didn’t seek out another form of warmth and soon, you’d end up a popsicle. And frankly? That sounded like a bad way to go.
You shakily got to your feet, where it was from being nervous about putting weight on your injured leg or if you were cold, you couldn’t be sure. But you wobble up the stairs, gripping the rail for life the entire way and nearly falling when you finally manage to get the doorknob to turn. Simon catches you, he opens his mouth to chastise you before he realizes the state you’re in. He mutters your name, brown eyes filled with worry as you shrug, too tired and frozen to verbally shrug. He shakes his head and brings you to the mattress in the corner, he quickly runs downstairs and grabs your blanket before returning upstairs. You grumble, which honestly was just noises from the back of your throat as he settles next to you, pulling both blankets over the two of you. After a few minutes and warming up a little you mumble, “This doesn’t change that I’m upset with you.”
”I would never expect it to.” He whispers back as he wraps an arm around you. It shouldn’t be as easy as it is, like two pieces of a puzzle finally snapping together. You seep warmth from him like a leech while he holds you close and steady enough that you don’t shiver or shake. He stays awake the entire time, long after you’ve fallen asleep on your pack-made-pillow. Simon looks at you and drinks you in properly this time. Despite the blizzard outside still raging on and the cold temperatures making your skin lose a little color, you’re still as stunning as the day he confessed his love to you. He can still recall that day, sitting at a bench a little ways away from the reception party. The cool October breeze blowing through and the way you looked so relaxed. So content with the moment and with him. He kissed you that night, he kissed you like a starving animal. Like he might never get to kiss you again and that he needed to take what he could now.
“I love you Simon Riley. I have since we were 15. Don’t leave me again Simon, not if you can help it.” He was fucking idiot not to say it back, he didn’t even think to do so because his heart had been stabbed the moment you pleaded with him not to leave because he was leaving again. He was leaving you, the best thing in his entire life. Then he came back fucked but he did his best to get better. He didn’t want to touch you, he was terrified he would hurt you. Force himself on you, every night he dreamed that he was hurting you and that he enjoyed it. The therapy helped a little, you and his family helped a lot. Having something to return to helped so much. Then it all came burning down and damn it, he wasn’t going to let you die. So he killed the men then he returned to Mexico and killed Roba and his entire cartel. Then he never returned home, he never let you even think that he was alive. He glances down at you, sleeping in his arms
Sometimes, if he looks at you even now, he can recall the day the two of you met.
It was so cold and the rain didn’t make anything better. He trembles in his too-big shirt and pants which are rolled up to stop him from tripping again. He sniffles and wipes at his face, if he wipes away tears or the rain he doesn’t know. Other kids pass by him quickly with their umbrellas, rain coats and boots, protected by the things their mum’s and dad’s buy for them. His dad had sold his and Tommy’s umbrella’s and coats to afford more alcohol and drugs. Being the good big brother that Simon told himself he was, he let Tommy take their mum’s coat instead of him. He didn’t regret that, he could never regret making Tommy’s life a little better.
He isn’t expecting you to walk up to him with an umbrella with yellow ducks on it. He recognizes you almost instantly, you go to his class. You ask him, “What are you doing without an umbrella?” with your head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.
He mumbled out, eyes averted to the ground and soggy strawberry hair sticking to his forehead, “I don’t have one.” You asked if his mum didn’t buy him one. She did, she always did her best to provide for him and Tommy but his dad always ruined it. You don’t wait for him to respond, you don’t push for further answers or make fun of him for not having an umbrella or raincoat.
Instead, you smile at him and hold the umbrella with yellow ducks on it over his head after pulling the hood of your coat over your head. “Well it doesn’t matter now, I’m here and we can share.” You give him your name and he gives you his with the tiniest smile on his face. You held the umbrella over his head the entire way there then you walked him home because it was still raining. You called him a friend.
When you wake up, he lets you sit in silence. The blizzard had mostly passed through during the night, the worst of it was over but the safe house outside of the blankets was freezing cold. Simon knew he wasn’t exactly in a rush to leave the warmth and comfort of this moment. The silence hangs between the two of you and at some point, you begin to play with fingers in the way you used to when growing up. It takes a better part of an hour for him to work up the courage and it really feels like he is going to throw up when he whispers, “Do you still love me?” It’s quiet that if you didn’t know his voice that you’d think it was the wind still blowing.
He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the killing blow. For you tell him that you don’t love him anymore, especially after these five years and the shit he pulled. But it doesn’t come, instead he hears your shuffling and feels your slightly cold hands cup his stubble covered cheeks. He peaks his eyes open and nearly melts at the sight before him. You, nearly in tears as you look at him so fondly like you did that October day. “Of course I still love you Simon Riley.” He can’t stop himself from closing the gap between the two of you as tears spill from both of your eyes and kiss you.
”I love you Simon Riley.” You kiss his cheeks, “I love you.” You kiss his forehead, “And I’ll keep loving you for eternity.” Simon melts with each kiss you give him and sighs when you kiss his lips again. His large hands find your waist and tug you closer, his thick thigh parting yours as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him, your hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue explores your mouth and a needy moan leaves you. Your heart aches still and tears keep slipping down your face because he’s here. Simon Riley is alive and has been for years. The relief is almost enough to make you forgive him on the spot.
You’re taken by surprise when he kisses you, it's gentle and some tears slip between your connected lips. You don’t even realize that either you or him has started to cry but you return his kiss, trying to keep him this close for as long as you can without breathing. His hands tug you closer, if he could tear open his ribs and stuff you in there instead of his heart and lungs, he would. When you finally pull away, tears still running down your cheeks, you look at him. Tears run down his cheeks too and wet the fabric of his shirt now that they’re not being caught between your lips and spread between your cheeks and his. “Say it again.” He croaks and you repeat it.
Maybe you are forgiving him in a way, not fully. God knows that it will take a lot more than just this to make you forgive him but it's a start. And it’s a start you desperately need, your fingers dig into him further which pulls a groan from him. Immediately you loosen your grip on him, fearing that you’ve hurt him until he pulls away completely breathless and with pupils so wide there’s hardly any brown left, “Don’t stop doing that.” He leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear. It sends goosebumps rising up on your skin as you dig your fingers back into him right as his mouth connects with yours again.
He rests a hand on the back of your neck to keep you close and connected to him. You feel like a teenager again when he slips one of his thick thighs between your own and you grind down on it nearly out of pure instinct. The pressure of your pants seam pressing against your clit makes your legs weak and a liquid warmth to pool. You do it again and you moan into the kiss, his other hand which he had used to cup your cheek immediately went to your hip and grabbed it. He doesn’t try to stop you, instead he encourages you to grind against his thigh. He mutters something against your lips and it comes out muffled but it sounds like, “Take what you need love.” And you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
You grind against him, a little harder this time which causes your entire body to jolt as the electric pleasure shoots up your spine. His hand on the back of your neck tangles itself into your hair and he pulls away only barely so he can catch his breath. You’re left breathless and panting as you grind against his thigh, he rests his forehead against yours and his eyes focus on you using his thigh. “Fuck.” He mutters as his hand on your hip moves up and cups your chest. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you furrow your brows, your pace faltering at his words.
”Did I do something wrong?”
“No! No, I’m sorry fo’ bein’ such a twat.” He says and pushes his thigh back against you. Your head tips back as a moan leaves your throat and you resume your previous pace. He gropes and paws at your chest, trying to pinch and twist at your hardened nipples from over the fabric of your shirts. “Love, please let me- let me push your shirt up.” He begs and you immediately give your consent. He doesn’t waste another second and pushes your shirt up as far as it would go then he grumbles something to himself before he pulls it over your head and discards it nearby.
He dips his head down and immediately takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand squeezes the other breast. He sucks on it, laving his tongue over it like a dog and letting his teeth graze it slightly when he figures out it makes your hips jolt. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as your thighs tense up and you desperately keep rocking your hips against his thigh. “Si-Simon I’m cl-“ You’re cut off by your own moan when he switches nipples and when he looks up at you between blonde lashes your orgasm washes over you. Your hips stutter and your entire body jolts once or twice as you soak your underwear. Simon swears at the sight of your mouth falling open and your head tipping back to expose your entire neck.
His fingers are nimble as he unbuttons your pants, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of both the pants and your underwear then yanks them down. “Let me? Please let me make you feel good.” He begs and you nod, mind still trying to piece itself back together after the first orgasm. He shuffles under the covers and it’s kind of funny to see the bottom half of his body sticking out but the sight of it is pulled away from you as he yanks you further down the mattress.
”Simon-“ You yelp before it’s cut away into a moan. There’s no preamble or teasing, likely because he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have his mouth on your cunt now, before he buries his face in it. You grab at the blankets, your mouth falling open as you moan when his tongue flicks your engorged clit. He can’t seem to decide if he wants to focus on your clit or your pulsing hole, dipping his tongue down to slurp up your juices before returning to your clit. He’s desperate, his hands are gripping your thighs like you might try and pull away despite your moans and pleads for more filling the safe house.
He eases one thick finger into you as he sucks on your clit and you see stars in your vision. “Like that- oh my god- like that please don’t stop.” You whimper as your fingers card through his hair. You moan and start to squirm a little as he begins to pump his thick digit in and out of you. He seems to be searching for something, trying different things and sticking to the one that makes you keen the loudest. He crooks his finger just right and your thighs tense up around his head as a moan tears through your throat.
Like the sniper that he is, he focuses on that spot within your increasingly soaked cunt as he tortures your clit with his mouth. The slurping sounds have your cheeks heating up and you squirm as he pushes a second finger into you with no resistance. He rubs against that soft spot inside you that causes your body to relax further and pins down your hips when you try to squirm away from his tongue.
“Simon- nngh- that feels so-“ You can barely string together a sentence as he seems intent on rendering you boneless and incapable of speech as he abuses your g-spot. You feel a tightness growing within your abdomen, like something is winding up before it lets go. It barely registers in your brain that you’re on the verge of cumming. Simon must feel it too, with the way your pussy clamps down around his fingers, because he redoubles his efforts. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your pussy pulses without a rhythm and you’re thrown over the edge. The muscles in your thighs clench involuntarily as the pleasure runs through you. He keeps rubbing at that spot through your orgasm, his fingers soaked in your slick as you twitch a little from the aftershocks.
You try to move upwards when he eases a third finger into you but he holds you down. “It’s too much.” You choke out as he crawls up your body, leaving a trail of sticky wet kisses. “Si please.” You hiccup as he begins to work you open with those three fingers.
”Got to work you open love.” He mutters reassuringly before capturing your lips in a kiss. He swallows down your moans like the greedy man he is, keeping all of these sounds for himself. He doesn’t care if the two of you are the only people around for miles upon miles, he doesn’t even want the walls to know your sounds in case they ever learn to talk. You whine at his words and a hand grabs his bicep as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. The stretch of three of his fingers is delicious, just that slight sting that ebbs away the more he finger fucks you.
It feels like he rips the next orgasm out of you, your entire body tenses as it slams into you. You feel yourself gush on his thick fingers and he keeps going, keeps fucking you through it until your pushing at his arm and pleading for a moment of reprieve. It’s only until tears gather in your eyes that he finally stops. Simon peppers your face in kisses while he whispers that he’s sorry. He promises that he’ll do right by you this time, no more running away or disappearing. He swears it as you unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. There’s a noticeable wet patch on his boxers but you don’t comment on it, just pull those down as well. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see his cock.
It's thick, uncut and long. The tip is red from neglect and drips pre-cum like a leaky faucet. His cock is heavy that it hangs low and his brown eyes are filled with lust as he watches you reach down and wrap your hand around his length. “That’s not going to fit.” You finally whisper out, meeting his eyes which crinkle from the cocky smile on his face.
He leans down, body draping over yours. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves as he takes his cock from your hands and lines up the bulbous tip with your cunt. He strokes it a few times with his slick coated fingers as he looks you in the eyes before whispering, “I’ll make it fit.” When he pushes it, he does it slowly. You can feel every ridge, every pulsing vein of his cock against your walls. Despite having stretched you with three of his fingers before hand and making you cum twice the sting remains. It’s a sweet burn, a delicious heat that licks from your hips up to the back of your skull. It grounds you to the moment as his fingers dig into you as his hips meet yours, bottoming out in you he lets out a low moan. His eyes flicker down to where the two of you meet and he licks his lips at the sight.
He pulls back just a little and the squelch that comes from your cunt when he pushes back in makes your face hot. He leans down and grabs your uninjured thigh. He hooks his arm around it and forces it up as he cages your body between his arms. You grab onto his shoulder and bicep, your eyes can’t seem to leave his as he thrusts in and out of you. The pace isn’t fast but his hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin fills the room and mixes with each noise pulled from you. Simon swallows the lump in his throat as he supports himself on one arm and cups your cheek, his thumb swiping something away. You sniffle and reach your hands up to his face, you try to drink his face. The same face you thought you would never see as tears roll down your cheeks and his cock fills you past the point of full.
“I love you.” You say between hiccups and moans. You watch as his eyes water and he buries his face within the crook of your neck. He mouths at the sweaty skin there and whispers that he loves you back. That he loves you so much it hurts and that he’s sorry. He repeats it over and over again with each roll of his hips and that feeling within your stomach grows again quickly. With each snap of his hips you feel yourself getting closer and more tears leak from your eyes. You cum again with his name on your lips and feel his hips stutter and loose pace. He grinds up against you, nudging your cervix in a way that causes a slight pinch within your lower abdomen that makes you clench down harder on him.
You feel him cum, you hear his groan right next to your ear as his hips come to a complete stop and pressed against the meat of your thighs. His sticky warm cum fills you, the feeling is odd. Foreign but not entirely unwelcome as he stays in that position after letting your thigh rest back down onto the mattress. You twist your head to the side and give him a quick kiss, “Say it again?” He whispers.
”I love you.”
Simon lets out a shaky sigh, the relief he feels is palpable, “I love you too.”
It’s not all that surprising that he can’t keep his hands off you and you’re not innocent either. After seemingly fucking all of your anger towards him out, the two of you cling to each other. He rocks his hips into your again, every movement lighting up your nerves in a way that seems never ending. Like this pleasure will swallow you whole but you don’t mind, it hides the twinges of pain from your thigh from being pressed so close to your chest. You kiss all of his face, soft moans from both of you mixing together into a melody.
”How long until someone is able to get us?” You ask later while you lay on his chest and trail your fingers up and down his abdomen. You’re exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open and the heat between the two of you is slowly lulling you further into sleep.
”The radio said they’ll be here tomorrow.” Simon replies and you mindlessly hum.
”What will happen when we leave?” You ask, “When all of this is over.”
”We’ll figure it out.” he murmurs and kisses you. “Rest up love.” You’re not surprised, actually delighted, when he wakes you up with kisses on your neck. He trails down from your jaw, nipping occasionally at the soft flesh which earns a wanton moan from you.
”Happened to resting?” You tease and he chuckles against you.
”Oops.” He says and it would be convincing if you couldn’t feel his smile. Simon’s hands trail down your naked body and he pushes two fingers back into your sopping wet cunt. You gasp and arch your back, eyes fluttering closed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “You’re so wet.” He groans, like he still can’t believe that you still want him. “Never going to let you go again.” He promises as he begins to abuse that soft part inside you.
Simon kisses your nose and you chuckle. “Excited?” You ask and he nods. It’s been two years since that mission when everything changed again. Two years since you found out Simon Riley never died, that he had refused to die once again. It had taken a little while to figure out what the both of you wanted, therapy helped a lot. It helped you realize that the military lifestyle, despite it being the thing you had only known for the past five years, wasn’t truly for you. Of course you had known that you had only joined in Simon’s memory but therapy helped you let go of it.
God bless John Price, bless him for being utterly professional despite two of his soldiers fucking which has to be the most unprofessional thing to do in the military. He looked at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle when you placed the discharge paperwork on his desk that day 8 months ago. “Finally figured out what you want then?” He asked as he immediately signed off on it, not even bothering to read through it.
”Yeah, I have, Captain.” You said with a fond smile, you’d miss this. You’d miss him, Gaz and Soap but it wasn’t like they couldn’t come and see you when on leave. You’d only be an hour away in a nearby city anyways. You glance at the two keys in your hand, one for you and one for Simon. You place the second one into his palm. “Let’s go see our home then.” You pick up the cat carrier and Mittens meows in protest. You coo your reassurances to her, promising that it’s almost over. The three of you climb the steps up the porch of the townhouse you now own and Simon unlocks the door.
You glance around the currently empty space then glance behind you to the moving truck parked out on the side of the street. “I think it might take us a day to get everything in here.” You say when you turn to look at Simon
”I’d say two.” Simon says as he takes the cat carrier from your hands and sets it down next to the stairs. You quirk an eyebrow up and part your lips in an ‘o’ shape when you realize what’s on his mind.
”Really Riley?” You ask as you loop your arms around his neck and he chuckles as your expression.
”I’ve always wanted to bend you over a countertop.” He purrs as he tugs his mask down and plants a kiss on your neck which sends shivers down your spine.
”Is that so?” You ask as he backs you up against it after closing the front door. He hoists you up on top of it with a ‘mhm’ before he captures your lips in a kiss and his hands settle on your hips.
You grasp at the edge of the counter, moans being punched out of you with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the house and mixes with his groans. Simon’s fingers dig a little harder into your hips, enjoying the sight of how your fat squishes up between his fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ stunning.” And all you can respond with is a moan as his fat cock abuses the tip of your cervix. “I’m gonna retire.” He babbles and his words hardly register in your mind as you begin to clench down on him as a sign you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. He loops a hand around and rubs mean circles around your clit which sends you falling off the edge.
He swears as your cunt clenches down on him like a vice and he spills himself in you all while he keeps rubbing at your clit. You lay there panting, trying to gather your senses as you blink away the tears of overstimulation once his hand falls away. You gasp and gulp down the air, “Simon?”
”Fuck I said that out loud didn’t I?”
You can’t help but giggle and shake your head. “You mean it?”
”Yeah, I mean it. I’m gonna look into retiring, I can’t be a soldier forever.” He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as he speaks.
”I love you so much Simon Riley.”
His hand reaches out and loops through yours, the matching rings on your fingers glinting in the light. “I love you too.”
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#mw2 smut#ghost smut#ghost cod#ghost x reader smut#simon x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley call of duty#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod
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Sorry one more thing I wasn't going to talk about but if you had asked me about the binational state/land thing maybe... in 2016, I might have given a somewhat positive answer but I think that since then, Israeli society has become exponentially more racist and anti-Palestinian. Since then we had the Abraham Accords, Sheikh Jarrah, Massafir Yatta, the highest child martyr count in years, and now finally a full blown genocide. Many Palestinians who previously advocated for equality in a single state look at all this, especially in recent months and think "how can I live side by side with these people?"
The vast majority of Israeli society is not against war for the sake of the Palestinians, they're against war for their own safety. They say as much. Hell, look at standing together. The founder guy says "our security is tied in with the Palestinians'". So if it wasn't tied with the Palestinians', you wouldn't care? And I get sometimes you need to introduce people to ideas gently, but their entire organization language emphasizes "shared pain" when there is an oppressor/oppressed dynamic they aren't even hinting at. How can anyone achieve safety if you won't even admit you have power over your Palestinian org members?
Even Brothers in Arms claims to want to "strengthen democracy" but they completely ignore Palestinians have never experienced democracy in "Israel". So what's the point strengthening your own standing when the most disadvantaged still are at rock bottom?? Plus your whole group represents the IOF reservists/members, you have no intention of helping Palestinians when you are the primary oppressors. And this is not an insignificant group in israel!
Not many Israelis are willing to put themselves on the line to protect or even advocate for Palestinians. I mean 7+ months into a genocide and what did israeli society do other than protest *netanyahu*? Hold up flour bags during the flour massacre??? The people serving in the idf are your friends and family and community. Tel Aviv is an hour away from Gaza. Surely you can do *something* physical!! They had people at their Gaza borders starving Palestinians on purpose and people just... watched it happen. Not to mention the IOF, which many Israelis are a part of, participates in the genocide and has been lauded for their "heroism". I look at that and I think "how can I expect you to seriously consider my rights as a person? How do I know you won't miss your old status and reclaim it?"
We've seen Israelis *celebrate* and *ridicule* our martyrs and people. So like where us the good faith in all this? Where can we work with some of these people and think "Yeah I believe they'll respect my inherent dignity as a person"?
Which binationalism relies on this. You need to have good faith between communities for this to actually happen. But when one community won't even acknowledge it's status as an oppressor at the height of oppression? Then what?
Israel as a country has never faced any retribution for its actions for 75 years. No one is holding them accountable. The country teaches propaganda in its schools about the Nakba. There is not serious consideration for Palestinian rights in Israeli society. Why would they suddenly decide to participate in a project that puts Palestinians as equal to Israelis when they learned all their lives that Palestinians are ruthless, unreasonable people who can't be reasoned with, and Israelis are logical, poor victims who are actually the ones who need protection from the Palestinians!
It just is mind boggling because I see people constantly complain about the way they hear things from Palestinians these days like "all Israelis need to leave". And they go on to say "why would you be so hateful/why would you say that" and don't think for a minute they're experiencing a televised genocide of their people (which they could have ended up in their shoes! People forget that Gaza has multiple refugee camps! Any one of us could have lived there!) And conversely are looking to Israeli society for them to do anything and they see nothing. At least think for a moment why they would say these things given the context of the situation. There's a genocide going on! And you're worried about what the people who are experiencing their people's genocide are saying because you're worried for the society conducting said genocide?? Let's deal with the matter at hand first!!!!!!
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Precious Truths: Part I
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.
Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.
After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.
She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.
Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.
"Maybe some day," you'd always say.
What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.
You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.
But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.
_______________________
The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "
You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.
"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."
People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.
You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"
"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.
You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."
Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."
You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."
You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."
"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."
You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."
"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.
"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.
"Very much so, I'm afraid."
Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.
The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."
"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.
You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.
_____________________
"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.
"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."
"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.
"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."
Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"
Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."
Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."
Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."
Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."
Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."
_________________________
"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.
You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."
"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."
You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"
"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."
You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."
Kate shrugs, "As you wish."
Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.
"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."
He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton imagine#f!reader#female!reader#fem!reader
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You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader
TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation
prev part first part. next part
Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.
You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.
"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.
"Babe, please."
"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.
"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.
"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.
When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"
"Got in some fights around the base."
"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.
"Don't want anyone else."
"Kyle."
"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."
You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.
"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.
"Love—"
"Let me clean you."
He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.
"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."
"Kyle, I can't lie to you."
You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.
"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."
"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."
"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.
"He understands."
"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.
"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."
"Let me fix this."
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John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.
"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."
"Cheated on you, deserve it."
"I know it was Johnny."
"Lie."
"Kyle told me."
"Oh."
"Can you forgive me, John?"
"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.
"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?
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"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.
"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.
"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.
"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."
"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"
"There will be, and then we'll be happy."
"You're sick. This will never happen."
"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."
"No one will believe you."
"They will."
And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.
"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."
"Hen, please."
You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?
"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."
"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.
"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."
You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"
"Love, don't believe—"
"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"
That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.
"Luv?"
"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.
Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.
"Johnny?"
"Go away, Lt."
"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."
"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."
"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.
#cod#cod mw2#tf 141 x reader#captain john price#call of duty#tf 141#john price#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#gaz garrick#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#shingeki no kyojin#sergeant kyle gaz garrick#kyle x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soapghost#soap x ghost#soap x you#soap x y/n#john mactavish x reader#captain price mw2#captain price#price#141#tf141
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Aphrodisiacs · 「Shh」
➥ Established relationship — 1k
➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.
⚠ — Domestic free use.
➥ Your boyfriend’s sex drive is questionably high as it is, but it goes haywire under certain circumstances.
Everybody has a kryptonite when it comes to their partner—for some, it’s something physical, for others, it’s a personality trait.
For Minho, on the other hand, it was something he just couldn’t quite explain.
He had always been proud of his girl, and rightfully so, but for some reason, his ferality levels went Chernobyl-level radioactive every time he witnessed you in any business context doing your thing. So much so that he owned up to it as a massive kink of his own.
It was the early AM hours that morning as you were picking out a fit for the day. You saw Minho emerge from under the sheets in the mirror on the wardrobe, and your eyes met in the reflection.
“Sorry, baby, did I wake you up?” you gave a quick kiss on the crown of his head, “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll try to be quiet.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he placed his hands under his nape and started watching you change like you were his personal camgirl. You giggled, but he was dead serious, eyefucking in progress as you stripped.
Minho already had a raging hard on courtesy of whatever the fuck happened during his sleep, and watching you clad yourself in clothes was turning him on even more. For no reason. Just because of the fact that you were putting on a fucking suit. His eyes followed you as you were about to leave the room, extremely focused on how your ass moved in your high-waist slacks.
“I love you,” you blew a kiss with a smile and left to make some coffee.
It was supposed to be Minho’s day off, but he decided not to waste several hours sleeping in. Maybe he could go for a run or something, go over certain practice videos, perhaps even draft new choreography in his head. He put his shorts on and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
When he appeared in the kitchen afterwards, he actually had no ulterior motives. Honest. All he wanted to do was join you for some coffee as your phone rang.
“Hey, Chris!” you chirped into your receiver, “Yeah, sure, I have some time. What’s up?”
But he found you bent over to get something from the fridge instead. He could literally hear a voice in his head urgently repeating ‘Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it,’ but…
You looking like that? With that ass?
He needed his fix. Right fucking now.
“Didn’t we put that in last month’s reports though?”
He sneakily approached you from the back and hugged your waist while you were pouring water into the coffee machine. You felt his little kisses on your neck, and thinking it was just a display of affection, you turned around and smiled at him warmly, even stealing a kiss from his lips for yourself.
“Marketing’s being a real bitch about it, huh?”
The light scent of your perfume tickling his nose was making him feel things. He licked his lips as his large hands groped your hips, and when you turned around with a look that asked ‘What are you doing?’, he gestured you to keep going as if everything was peachy and turned you towards the counter again, promptly proceeding to slide your pants down your ass.
“Well, did you look in our shared DRIVE?!”
Then he shoved himself into you without prior notice. The only lubrication he had was the saliva he smeared on his cock. It was one of his biggest turn ons, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get you wet while fucking you. He pressed his index finger on his lips telling you to keep quiet and began with his ruthlessly hard thrusts.
“I’m– I’m fine. I just– I almost dropped a glass,” you nervously chuckled into the phone.
“Yeah, keep talking,” Minho inaudibly whispered behind you while pounding into you relentlessly, “Get all boss lady on me, come on.”
It was quite the challenge to keep yourself composed with everything going down so fast. You were sighing, and he was getting even bigger inside you.
“Mhm, it sh– should be there.”
With one quick move, he undid your hair, grabbed a fistful, and pulled on it to expose your neck. It was so fucking biteable that it would be a shame to leave it unmarked. Then he shoved his fingers in your mouth to get them wet to work your pussy.
“I haven’t had my morning coffee YET!” you tried to explain yourself to the other end of the line in fluctuating decibels, “S–search for August sales.”
He knew it wasn’t enough. You needed much more slippery lubrication, didn’t you? He collected as much saliva on his fingers as he could and started going to town on your clit. You were feeling way too good, and your brain was going fuzzy.
“YES! That’s the folder!” you bit inside your cheek, and spoke as quickly as you could, “Listen, I gotta go now. I’ll touch base later.”
The second you hung up, Minho harshly turned you around and wrapped one leg around his waist.
“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he dove into your lips headfirst.
He loved seeing you all disheveled like this, hair in disarray, eyes rolling back, moaning his name, yet still trying to hold power. You didn’t need to tell him; of course he was going to make you cum and he was going to make you cum hard.
That was the only thing boss ladies deserved. S-Class treatment.
“MINHO!!!”
“That’s it, let it go. Let it go,” he soothed you as you came all over his cock. You rode out your orgasm on his lips, kissing sloppily and your moans quieting down in each other’s mouths.
“Come shower with me, baby,” he tugged on your shirt once you came to your senses, still kissing into your fucked out smile.
“The fuck’s gotten into you this morning?” you threw your arms around his neck.
“It’s not news that you get me horny as fuck. Call in sick today, ask to work remotely,” he placed a quick peck on your lips, “We’re gonna fuck in the shower again, then I’m gonna eat your creampied pussy during your morning meeting. How does that sound?”
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Admit it, you melted just a little bit.
「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」
✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.
#lee know smut#lee know x reader#lee know x y/n#lee know x you#lee know scenarios#lee know imagines#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz smut#skz x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz scenarios#skz imagines
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A letter from your future self.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
1 -> 3
DM me for private readings
$5.55 per question!
C@sh app and PayPal payments only!
Tips appreciated
Cash tag- $minnieplant3
Love y'all!
- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
Pile 1- The star, Two of wands, The devil.
"I think it's time you and I have a talk, I know you know who I'm talking to, yeah I'm talking to myself, but it's not just you and me here, what about little us? Past us? The most important form of ourselves? You haven't been listening to all of us, why? Why do you ignore the child in you who screams to be listened to, to be understood, who just wants to heal like the rest of you. I promise you it's not silly at all to be in tuned with your inner child, I promise you no one's going to hurt you or make you want to hide away again, they can't control your emotions. They only want you to feel so powerless against them, like you're helplessly chained to them, but you have the power to break the chain and run free again, wild. You deserve to follow your dreams, do whatever you want, whatever it is that's been bugging you like a fly in your ear, a project that's always on the back of your mind, the one that just wouldn't go away since you were a child, you can do it, I know you can because I'm already here as proof, but I can't spoil too much. Be creative, shine brightly and never let anyone dim that light. I love you with all my might! ;)
- Me"
Don't forget the poll below!
⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
Pile 2- The devil in reverse, Three of wands, Justice.
"Hi buttercup! I hope all is well these days, I've been thinking about you so much these days, well let me explain, I've been thinking about how hard we've worked, how far we've come and what we had to do to be here. I know, it's a lot. I'll often look back a lot and think about how unfair things were, how many people were never on your side, how many battles you've had to win on your own and how many you've had to lose. I'll never forget the day we decided we had had enough of our problems, our addictions, the toxicity and just did something about it, we cut that toxic person off, quit that stupid job or finally changed that damn schedule of yours and did something better for your health. Whatever it was we did it <3 and it paid off so much, I'm so happy we did because it led us to better days, so much abundance, everything we've always deserved. We got the justice we've always been searching for in such a cruel world and I'm so proud of us for doing that baby girl! We never gave up, no matter how much we wanted to, how much we wanted to go back to that same place because it was comfortable and we just got so blind sided we never knew we could do so much more if we just put our mind to it! Go us! Go me! Go you!
Love- The version of yourself you were always meant to be 🩷"
Don't forget the poll below! Love you!
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖.
Pile 3- Six of coins, Ace of wands in reverse, Two of coins in reverse.
"Psst! Remember that project you weren't so sure about? You know the one, well I have a message for you! If you get started with it now I bet you a million bucks you could never guess where you'll be ten years from now. You remember that big house you've always wanted? All of the wealth you've always wanted to share and give back to others? We finally can! We did it! It was always important to give back to the ones we love, to be able to support and live comfortably and we finally did it. Just try not to get too big headed, okay? Remember who you are, where you come from and why you started this in the first place. Don't forget about your loved ones, the ones who supported you through thick and thin. I know your schedule might be busier, just don't forget to find that balance. We're at a very important time in our lives right now, I understand this, but remember to take a break from that damn schedule of yours. Take time for us, okay? I want you to call off as soon as you see a single sign of distress and go to the spa, I promise you're going to need it! ;) "
-Big boss lady (this pile was channeling feminine energy, someone who's in charge of their own business and gives orders to others. Very important business woman vibes here.)
Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom! Love you!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
#18+ tarot#pac love reading#pac tarot#pick a card#spirituality#tarot cards#tarot#tarot reading#tarot love reading#tarot messages
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I can't stop thinking about Mafia Konig who never let his wife wear bras because once she complained about how uncomfortable her bra is. And he just loves to circle his finger on her nips through the fabric whenever they have meetings with allies, in front of everyone! But if any guys dare to make dirty jokes about her body (how plump her ass is, how round her breasts are, etc) he will shoot that mfker in the middle of his eyebrows in a heartbeat. That's so disrespectful respectfully 😩😍😍 thank you for accepting a lot of my previous requests, love youuuuu🎀🎀🎀
Ofc!!! 🩷🩷 I love breast man König
Mafia!König x Braless!Wife (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw fem/afab, blood, gun violence, groping
1.0k word count
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König has always loved the fact that you are a curvy woman. When he first saw you, you were dating one of his associates. He charmed you with his Austrian accent and icy blue eyes. Soon he had you coming to his office late at night, buying you expensive gifts, and bringing you home. One day, your ex showed up at a meeting with his boss, König, to just see you sitting on his lap. Your breasts were so large and filled his hands, and he knew you were his. Your body is just perfect for him. He can never keep his hands off of you; no matter what. That’s why he married you after only six months.
Your breasts are so large, bras are very uncomfortable. The underwire is always digging into you, the straps never feeling right on your shoulders. Sports bras never fitting right, always too tight. That’s when you approached König about the idea of giving up bras all together.
Obviously, he agreed quickly. Bras were only another barrier in between him and those bouncy, perfect pair of tits. König bought you light colored or sheer fabric tops and dresses. Your breasts are marvelous and deserve to be shown off.
König, seats you on his lap, you’re wearing a cream-colored shirt that clings to the curve of your breast naturally sitting on your chest. One of his hands is busy sifting through papers. The other squeezes your breast. Fingers slowly rubbing circles around your hardened nipple. You squirm over his erection as you lean your head back on his shoulder.
“Sit still, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear, his warm lips kiss your neck tenderly before looking away.
The table you’re sitting at has seven men seated, associates of König. They all look at your breast, watching as König’s finger begins to pinch and tug at your nipple that is visible through your shirt. They all share glances with one another; eyebrows raised with cheeky smirks across their lips. Some men had to adjust themselves as they watched König’s display of affection.
One man clears his throat. König’s eyes shoot in his direction. His gaze bore into the man waiting for him to speak.
“-Uh, sir, we have a shipment coming in from Hungary on Wednesday.” His eyes glued to your breasts as he speaks makes him forget his train of thought. “There are no set plans on who will be at pick up.”
“Mein Gott, your breasts are perfect.” König ignores the man to focus on you.
The man looks around at everyone’s eyes glued to you. “Sir?”
“You. Take Johan as well.” König’s attention shifts from you to the men. He notices their lustful gaze.
An awkward silence falls across the room as König pulls your shirt from the back as he looks over your shoulder at your breast. He perfectly sees the texture and color of your areolas and nipples. Perfection.
He continues to hold the back of your shirt with one hand. The other comes around and squeezes your breast. Cupping them in his hands before running them over your nipples, making you moan quietly. You turn your head to him and lift his hood slightly to kiss the pale skin of his neck. His cock is painfully hard. He cannot wait until this meeting is over so he can fuck these beautiful fucking breasts.
“Is that all we had to discuss?” König asks in a snappy voice.
“I can’t blame the guy; I’d want to hurry this up too.” One associate whispers to the one sitting next to him.
König hears him and smiles. His smile quickly disappears once he hears what the other man’s response was.
“I’d love to squeeze those massive breasts.” He lets out a low whisper before they laugh together.
König’s eyes fall on him, the both of them, and just glares. They don’t notice his gaze just yet, so they continue.
“Yeah, well, she was Christoph’s before, so we might get our turn.” They chuckle between them.
“Excuse me, my love.” König gently takes you off of his lap.
You stand and look up at König. His large hands come down and caress your face gently. “Take a seat Maus.”
König slowly walks past you around the table, his footsteps loud as he walks. He stops right behind the two men that were talking about you. Everyone at the table had eyes on the two men. Their fear was palpable.
König leans down slightly before whispering, “You know, this table isn’t big at all. And my hearing is wonderful.”
“Sir, I was just-”
He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before König quickly withdrew his gun and shot the man in between his eyes. His body lingered upright for a moment as everyone stared with wide eyes. Finally, the body fell forward onto the desk, causing a loud thump.
There was shock written all over the face of the man, sides of him that got all the blood splatter. König then turned the gun to the man that said he might have a turn with you in the future. His icy blue eyes bore into the man’s soul, almost.
Shaking, the man got out a short sentence. “I- I didn’t mean it…She’s your wife…”
“She is.” König nods and looks over at you sitting in his seat.
Your nipples are still hard and your breast jiggle lightly as you breathe rapidly from everything that just happened. My god you’re so perfect.
Without looking back at the man, König shoots him too. He puts his gun back into his holster and looks around the room.
“Anyone else have anything to say?”
A unanimous “no sir” breaks out across the remaining five men. All of them are too scared to look at König or me, so they keep their gaze down at the wooden table. König scans the table and looks at how they cower in fear.
“Gut.” König begins to walk back over to you. “Now, where was I?”
#tw: gun violence#tw: blood#konig#konig x reader#konig cod#könig#konig x y/n#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#cod smut#konig x reader smut#könig x reader smut#light smut#x reader#konig x you#könig x y/n
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Can you do a fic where the reader works for Ferrari and has been friends with Charles for a long time, and recently Charles and the reader have a friends with benefits thing going on, but the reader is actually in love with him. Then when Lewis moves to Ferrari, he takes an interest in the reader, the reader decides to give him a shot and stops the situationship with Charles and he realises he doesn't want to let her go.
thank you for this request, this was a little bit hard to make because i was looking at how to develop the story but I really liked how it came out, I hope you like it!
Confusions at work | cl16 & lh44
Summary: when you have feelings for your situationship but a new person gets in the middle of it.
Warnings: a little angst, confused reader, and fluff at the end.
The garage bustles with mechanics working on the gleaming red cars. You lean over the table to see the monitor with the different strategies for the first practice session of the day. Charles walks towards you, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Looking stunning with that frowned face y/n... As always.”
You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. You have known Charles since his great season in Formula 2 back in 2017, by then you were already working as an internal race engineer in the Haas team, you were practically like Sheldon from the big bang theory - a brainiac. Upon meeting Charles there was an instant connection, it was as if you had always known each other, eventually, you were promoted from Haas to Ferrari in 2019, just the same year that Charles was promoted to the red team too, and ever since then the easy camaraderie between you has turned into something more... A secret, friends-with-benefits situation that both sets your heart ablaze and tears it in two.
“Yeah, yeah, save it for the cameras, Perceval. You know perfectly well I can take you down with a bad strategy any day.” you chuckled.
Charles feigns offense, but his laughter betrays him. You share a comfortable silence, a familiarity that speaks volumes. The moment is shattered by the arrival of Lewis Hamilton, the new star driver at Ferrari. Arriving at that first meeting at Maranello his gaze settles on you, a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes. Fred had offered you a change of position with Adami to be Lewis' race engineer, but the comfort and confidence you already had working with Charles made you decline the offer, likewise, working with a seven-time world champion is a privilege, since you can learn a lot from him, but you and Charles had practically grown up together at Ferrari and out of loyalty to him you stayed with him.
-
The following weeks are a whirlwind. Lewis tries to get close to you, and as a result, you end up having some dates and night-outs with him. He is charismatic, attentive, you dare to say that he's a bit similar to Charles in so many ways since both of them treat you with such care and kindness. You find yourself drawn to his confidence and outgoing demeanor, a stark contrast to Charles' usual genuine and soft care towards you. Guilt gnaws at you, but the thrill of something new is intoxicating... And with a little sadness in your heart, you decide to end things with Charles... At least for a little while you try to understand what your heart wants.
One night you went to Charles' apartment, and you entered with the extra key that he had given you a long time ago. Charles' apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual post-race buzz. You stand awkwardly in the living room, avoiding his gaze.
You gulped. “Charles... I think we need to talk.”
He looks up, a frown creasing his forehead. The air crackles with unspoken emotions. “Y/n what's wrong sweetie? Did I do something wrong?”
You take a deep breath. “It's about this.” you sigh. “This thing between us... It can go anymore.”
Silence hangs heavy in the air, Charles' frown deepens, his eyes searching yours. “Is it Lewis? Is this about him?” he asked.
The truth hangs on your tongue, a bitter pill to swallow. “Maybe, maybe not... The point is, things need to change... We need to take a break... At least for a little while.”
Charles stands abruptly, his frustration palpable. “Just like that? We throw away everything because of... what? Because some shiny new toy showed up?” His words sting, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes - a vulnerability you haven't seen before.
“It's not that simple, Charles. You know it's... Complicated.”
Tears well up in your eyes, this isn't how you imagined this conversation going. You practically run out of Charles' apartment, frustrated because you don't know if you did the right thing and at the same time you don't know if being with Lewis is the same as being with Charles... Because at the end of the day, he somehow manages to see through you and understand you on a level that Lewis cannot.
-
Days turn into weeks, you and Charles avoid each other. The only words that come out of your mouth are simply a "hello" and a "see you later", occasionally long sentences when you're giving him directions during the race or at the team debrief, the air is thick with unspoken tension. The joy has gone out of working at Ferrari... You see the way Lewis looks at you, but a hollow ache fills your chest. At night you constantly think about what you would be doing with Charles at that exact moment, perhaps cuddling up watching a movie, or a normal date at his house eating pizza, wearing matching socks and playing Mario kart... And even though Lewis takes you to glamorous galas, lavish dinners and so on, you don't complain about it, on the contrary, you're grateful for it, but, there's nothing like that instant connection with Charles.
One afternoon, Charles corners you near his car. His eyes are stormy, a mix of anger and something else you can't decipher.
You hear him sigh. “I miss you y/n... Like hell.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You miss him too, the easy banter, the way he understood you without words, the way his eyes spark every single time he was next to you.
“Charles... I...” you say shyly but he cuts you off, his voice rough.
“Don't... Don't tell me you miss Lewis...because if you do, I'll understand. But at least know this – this thing we have, it's real, at least for me. It's more than just crazy strategies and stolen kisses after victories. Maybe I haven't said it, haven't shown it the way you deserve, but I care about you, y/n... A lot.”
His confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable, you've never seen him that way. You can see the years of unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface. Tears prick your eyes, blurring the image of Charles in front of you.
A million things fight for dominance in your mind: the thrill of the new with Lewis, the comfortable companionship with Charles, the undeniable spark you share with him.
Taking a shaky breath, you meet his gaze.
”Charles, I... I don't know what I want... I mean, Lewis is exciting, a new challenge. But with you... it's different, it's easy, familiar, it's warm. But it's also... frustrating you know? You never give anything away, never let anyone in all the way.”
A flicker of pain crosses Charles' features. He reaches out, hesitantly placing a hand on your arm. “I'm scared y/n... Scared of losing you, scared of letting myself feel something this real. But if you're willing to take a chance, maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.” he says softly.
The silence stretches, thick with unspoken emotions. You look into Charles' eyes, searching for a glimpse of the future you both could have. The weight of the decision settles on your shoulders. You glance around the garage, the familiar red of the Ferraris a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. Lewis' confident smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly replaced by the image of Charles' vulnerability, a side you've never seen before.
Taking a deep breath, you meet Charles' gaze, a flicker of determination replacing your earlier uncertainty.
“Okay Charles, let's figure this out... Together.” you say softly.
A slow smile spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him. He pulls you into a tight embrace, the scent of his familiar cologne grounding you, it feels like coming home.
“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for taking a chance on us.” he whispers in your ear.
You pull back slightly, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “Just don't expect me to lose in the strategy game anytime soon, Leclerc... This isn't over yet.”
Charles throws his head back and laughs, the tension finally breaking. He ruffles your hair affectionately.
“I wouldn't have it any other way amour... Wouldn't have it any other way.” he smiles. (love)
-
The garage and the pit wall is mostly deserted, the day's work winding down. You're packing up some of your things when Lewis approaches, a determined look in his eyes.
“Hey, y/n! Can I talk to you?” he asked with a friendly smile on his face.
You hesitate, then nod, gesturing towards a quiet corner. Lewis leans against a wall, his voice gets a little serious.
“I saw you and Charles... And I get it now, there's something there, a history I can't compete with.” There's a hint of disappointment in his voice, but mostly understanding.
“Lewis, I... I'm really sorry. Things just moved too fast too soon, and I realized what I was risking.” you say softly but Lewis offers a shy smile.
“No need to apologize, but follow your heart, y/n! That's all any of us can do... Besides, maybe next time on the track, I can finally knock your team off that top spot in the strategy battle.”
A genuine smile graces your lips. “Don't count on it, Hamilton. But hey, maybe we can grab a coffee sometime and hash out some friendly competition strategies. No promises on who'll win, though.”
Lewis chuckles, the tension dissipating. He extends his hand for a handshake. “Deal! And good luck with Charles. He's a lucky guy!”
You shake his hand, a newfound sense of clarity settling within you, he gives you a warm smile and a friendly hug. As Lewis walks away, you glance towards Charles, who's watching the exchange with a hint of possessiveness in his eyes. You catch his gaze and he winks at you, a silent promise hanging between you.
He walks towards you with a little smile on his face and takes you in his arms.
“So... How about we get out of here? I could use a real shower you know?” you say and Charles' smile widens, genuine relief washing over his features.
“Sounds like a plan. My place, or yours?” he asks softly.
The air hangs heavy with unspoken possibilities. You know this is a turning point in your relationship, a chance to rebuild something stronger.
“Your place only if you promise to make that killer pasta dish you always brag about.” you say teasingly.
Charles lets out a mock groan, but there's a twinkle in his eye. “Fine, fine. But you have to help me chop the vegetables! No bystanders in my kitchen, okay?” You laugh, the tension finally breaking. As you finally grab all of your things, Charles slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's get out of here before someone challenges me to another mario kart race.” he smiles softly. “You know I can't resist a good challenge, especially when you're involved.”
You nudge him playfully, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest.
”Oh, I'm sure you can handle it, Leclerc. But just you wait, next time I'm schooling you.”
Together you walk out of the garage, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the racetrack. The future is uncertain, but with a newfound commitment to each other, you're ready to face it head-on. You and Charles head towards his car, the promise of a home-cooked meal and a chance to reconnect hanging heavy in the air.
#formula one x reader#poly!f1#poly!drivers x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles x you#lewis hamilton#lewis x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#cl16 x lh44 x reader#poly!drivers#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles x reader
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youtube reader doing spencer’s makeup for a video? mgg has super long lashes and i just need to put some mascara on them 😭😭 i’m loving youtube reader they’re dynamic with spencer is so fun
THANK YOU I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THIS IS NO JOKE
cw: spencer wearing makeup, spencer is basically reader's bitch (affectionate)
wc: 623
youtuber!reader masterlist
++
“And you’re sure you wanna do this?”
“Of course. Why wouldn't I be?”
You swore you fell in love with Spencer even more every day. “Because some men have toxic masculinity and wouldn't let their girlfriends put makeup on them?”
“Well, those men don't have IQs as high as mine.”
You laughed and dabbed a blob of foundation on your hand, preparing to use the beauty sponge to blend it onto Spencer’s face. “Well thank God for that. I had to buy a whole new shade for you. Wouldn't want my money to go to waste.”
As you began blending, Spence flinched the tiniest bit at the cold substance. You were sure the camera was picking it up. He was a lot quieter than usual, and you had to comment on it. “Is everything okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“You're not talking… you're a certified yapper, Spence.”
“Hey!” Alas, his first words in five minutes were spoken.
“I’m not wrong,” your words were mumbled, but he heard them. “Sorry, sorry. Would you tell me why you’re not speaking, though?”
“I don't want to mess up your hard work.”
Again, you fell in love just a little bit more. “You won't mess anything up, Spencer.” You placed the sponge down and grabbed onto one of his hands. “Please talk as much as you want. The people are going to be here for you and your wisdom, babe.”
Even under the thin layer of foundation, you could see the hint of a blush appear on his cheeks. “Okay… did you know the word ‘cosmetic’ has a Greek origin, and was derived from the word ‘kosmos’, which means to adorn or arrange. The magazine, Cosmopolitan also has this same root.”
You smiled at the fact and continued with the routine. You got through the contour, blush, highlight, and eyeshadow, finally moving onto the mascara. “Okay, Spence, I’m going to put this wand near your eyelashes and I just need you to blink for me.” He did as he was told, and you couldn't keep your jealousy contained. “I'm so mad at you for your eyelashes.”
“What did they do?”
“They're so long!” You huffed and he chuckled. “It’s not fair. You do absolutely nothing to them and they're so beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” you mumbled out your response, finishing up his other eye before putting the mascara down and digging through the lipstick options. “We should do a liquid lip.”
“Liquid lip?”
“Yep! It won't transfer once it dries.”
“Did you know that the first lipstick appeared in ancient Mesopotamia approximately 4,000 years ago when women decorated their lips with the dust that was made of precious gems?”
“Thank God they stopped using precious gems or I wouldn't be able to afford the tens of lipsticks I have,” you quickly looked up at him, giving him a smile before finding the perfect shade for him. “Here we go! Now, I need you to not talk when I do this.” He gave a nod and allowed you to put it on. “Give it a minute to dry.”
You fanned his lips, and once you deemed it appropriately dry, you smiled and grabbed his face with one of your hands, causing his lips to pucker. “All good! See?” You pushed your lips together, giving him a big smooch in front of the camera. When you released him, you turned your face to the camera, showing your lips before turning back to him. “It didn't transfer!” He could only nod, shocked from the sudden affection, and you laughed as you ran your fingers through his hair. “You really are a pretty boy.”
You shared a chuckle and finished up the video. You were so lucky to have your pretty boy.
++
BONUS: some comments
@ user: i want a pretty boy :(
@ user1: what if i stole your man's eyelashes... then what?
@ user2: can he do a collab with the calm app? ma'am i would pay good money for that but you get it FOR FREE
@ user3: TELLING HIM TO START TALKING?? I LOVE YOU GUYS
@ user4: brb sleeping on the freeway tonight
@ user5: THE KISS?? THE KISS!!!
++
youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat
let me know if you would like to be added or removed!
#HEHEHEHE#LOVE#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#youtuber!reader
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there were too many beds
prompt came from this reverse trope list.
(thanks anon for suggesting it be pulled into a standalone post)
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There were too many beds.
There were too many beds.
Kara scanned the room: two, four, six, seven beds.
Sevens of them. All done up with pillows and over-starched fabric and tiny brochures translated into broken English with a map of local attractions splattered from inch to inch.
When she'd persuaded Lena to live out her dream of a four-week backpacking European holiday, she never expected there to be so many beds. Hostel after hostel with 'private' rooms filled with beds. It was perfectly roomy which was exactly the problem. Kara had daydreamed of a closet-sized room tightly packed with a single double bed, a tiny nightstand and, maybe if they were lucky, a private bathroom.
What she didn't expect was Lena plans-ahead Luthor booking out an entire 'group' of beds at each location.
"It'll give us guaranteed privacy," Lena explained when Kara flushed at the bundle of euros being slipped across the counter city after city.
Because that was the other thing: Kara had just come out. As Supergirl. And for as much as she liked to pretend everything was normal, everything was not normal. They could barely enjoy their plates of cicchetti in Venice without being barraged with onlookers. Their walk through Gaudi's masterpiece was ruined by slack-jawed observers gawking at Kara in civilian clothes. And now, in the city of love itself, Kara's romantic plans of a blanketed dinner in front of the Eiffel Tower was ruined by one nosy teenager with a social media following.
And now they were back, dinner ruined, a half-eaten baguette in one hand and the remaining drags of a perfectly delicious bottom-shelf bottle of red in the other. It was terrible. It was awful. It was not going at all like Kara wanted or planned or hoped.
Still Lena smiled. She knowingly leaned into Kara with each spontaneous combustion of crowds. She squeezed a hand reassuringly and chuckled when the wildest requests were made for autographs and signatures and "can we see the suit?". Tiny reminders of "it's ok, darling," were whispered through a crowd while an adoring smile settled Kara's stewing frustration.
"Everything ok?" Lena asked, one hand disappeared into her overflowing backpack.
"Hm? Oh, yea," Kara replied. A blush crept over her cheeks and a distracted hand scratched at her neck. "Just tired I guess."
"It'll pass. Soon you'll be able to walk down the street and be a nobody just like me," Lena offered with a sympathetic smile. And then there it was; there it came: a quick squeeze of Kara's forearm followed by the light trace of a kiss on Kara's cheek. "Thank you for an amazing day."
And then it was gone as quick as it came with the bathroom door squeaking shut.
And still, there were seven beds.
Seven.
Beds.
Now, what happened next is up for some debate. To the desk clerk, it might have sounded like a robbery. To Lena Luthor, one threshold away, it sounded like Kara was having one of her early-aughts inspired dance sessions. Kara herself would explain she'd seen a black widow. An army of black widows when an amused Lena pressed.
"Not bedbugs?" Lena asked, surveying the damage and stepping over a smoking mattress.
"Uh... coulda-coulda been?" Kara said, flushed and dry-mouthed.
"Mhm, well then we couldn't possibly sleep here tonight-"
"Black widows. It was definitely a fleet of black widows. Not a bedbug in sight actually-"
"A fleet?" Lena pressed, barely containing a grin and dropping her day clothes onto her completely unscathed, pristine backpack.
Kara nodded. She nodded with vigor and superspeed.
"I see," Lena continued, plopping onto the mattress.
How exactly it happened didn't really matter. All that mattered was that, in the span of time it took Lena to brush her teeth and change into soft sweats and Kara's old NCU t-shirt, six beds had been destroyed.
"I guess we'll just have to share, won't we, darling?"
#(this is a repost)#thanks anon for your suggestion - i didn't think about it getting lost in the reblog shuffle#i also like way too many of these reverse trope prompts#'sevens' was a typo but i'm absolutely keeping it#there were too many beds#supercorp fic#supercorp
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AITA for having a mental breakdown over my extremely close friend (accidentally) posting (what I thought was) radfem propaganda?
(🧵🎤for finding later)
It’s a very long story and I’m gonna have so many mixed opinions on this, so buckle up broskies.
I(X, minor) had met 👑(F, at least 4 years older than me) 2 months ago after a close friend of her was exposed as a pedophile. Coincidentally, that same pedophile had spread lies about me being a sociopathic asshole a few months ago, so me and 👑 grew extremely close because of both the aforementioned pedo and also because we shared a favorite manga, and we quickly started talking everyday about our favorite characters from the manga.
Due to our close friendship, I educated 👑 about BPD (a disorder I myself have, this is important), genderfluidity, and radical feminism. And apparently, I should’ve educated 👑 a little more about radical feminism.
Also due to our close friendship, 👑 opened up to me about a traumatic experience she had with her stepdad. This triggered me slight flashbacks to an extremely nasty and messy fight I had with an ex last year, but I didn’t want to seem like I was victim blaming, so I kept my mouth shut.
2~ weeks ago, 👑 posted about the “Man or Bear” question, and chose bear. She also brought up the traumatic experience her stepdad inflicted on her in the tags.
(I personally believe the “Man or Bear” question is radfem propaganda because when women choose bear, they always bring up a traumatic experience a man inflicted on them in some way. To me this sounds like they are saying that all men are misogynists that want to see women suffer, which is obviously not the case.)
When I saw the post, I was quite pissed. Eventually, I saw it another time, and I started having a meltdown. I was actually crying, impulsively vagueposting about her and the post, and eventually when I had to go to sleep I angrily messaged 👑 telling her about the mental breakdown accompanied by a middle finger emoji.
When I woke up and checked my notifications, I saw that 👑 had messaged me 4 times saying she’s sorry, that she didn’t mean ill towards men and that she had deleted the post (which she did, but that did barely anything to comfort me). I, still extremely pissed at 👑, told her about how pissed I was, that I trusted her but now I can’t, and that she should fuck off. 👑 replied by asking if there was anything she could do to regain my trust, so I, in the mood to just make it known that I was extremely pissed, told 👑 to go harass a radfem. And she did.
Later that day, me and 👑 had an important conversation about what had happened. I explained to her that I was holding a grudge against her since she told me about her trauma because it reminded me of the fight between me and my ex, and that I thought she was slowly making her trauma her personality. She understood, and she apologized.
Me and 👑 are now in much better terms, but I am extremely scared that I ruined her opinion on me and that she dislikes me now because she’s an extremely close friend of mine and I had opened up to her about everything bad in my life, and I threw it all away because I didn’t want to be reminded over something that happened a year ago.
TLDR; I held a grudge against my therapist friend for opening up to me about her trauma because I got flashbacks to a fight with an ex, then had a meltdown when she posted about the Man or Bear question, and now I don’t know what to do about our friendship.
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Fixing Us. Part 2.
Nat ran her hands through her hair, letting out a heavy sigh as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
The incessant beeping of the car grated on her nerves when she realized Y/N had unbuckled her seatbelt.
Prompting her to reach over and fasten her seatbelt once again, her eyes flickering over to Y/N, who remained silent, her thoughts a mystery.
The drive home felt interminable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Nat opted for silence, hoping Y/N would have time to sober up before they broached the conversation awaiting them.
As they reached the parking garage, Nat parked the car and turned her attention to Y/N.
"lyubov,"Nat said, but Y/N didn't respond. Nat let out a sigh as she got out and opened the door for Y/N, who stepped out wordlessly, her gaze fixed on the ground.
They ascended the stairs, each step echoing the growing distance between them.
Inside their apartment, Y/N discarded her heels and headed upstairs, Nat trailing behind her. Nat grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge before joining Y/N in their shared bedroom. The sight of Y/N's dress strewn on the floor and the bathroom light casting a soft glow only added to Nat's unease.
"Y/N," Nat called out softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern.
A muffled "what" was Y/N's response as the sound of the shower filled the room.
Leaning against the wall, Nat waited for Y/N to come out. When she did, Nat's eyes drifted from Y/N's laced bra to the tattoos adorning Y/N's body, a new revelation that caught her off guard.
"When did you get tattoos?" Nat's voice carried a mix of curiosity and confusion.
Y/N's response was short, "When I wanted to."
The tension in the room escalated as Nat pressed further, "Were you going to tell me?"
Y/N's reply was blunt, "I guess you were either going to find out eventually or we were going to get a divorce before you saw them."
Confusion clouded Nat's features, "Why would we be getting a divorce?"
"I don't know, Nat. Why would we?" Y/N's retort was sharp, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
Nat felt her patience waning, "What's your problem tonight? So much attitude and backtalk. I asked you a simple question, can you not answer that?"
Y/N's eyes narrowed, "My problem, Nat, is that you dragged me out of the bar when I was just having fun, all because you were jealous that I was dancing with someone you work with".
"I dragged you out of the bar because you had obviously been drinking, and it was a safety concern this late at night," Nat countered, her voice firm.
"Yes, sure, it was totally about a safety concern.Where you are insinuating that I'm some sort of slut? Also a safety concern?" Y/N's tone was sharp, her frustration palpable.
"What? I never called you that," Nat replied, taken aback by Y/N's accusation.
"Oh, but you meant it by asking me if Carol was really just a friend or someone who was trying to get into my pants. It's bold of you to assume that I would sleep with Carol." Y/N's voice carried a mix of hurt and defiance.
"That's not what I meant, Y/N. I know you wouldn't cheat on me," Nat responded, trying to diffuse the tension.
"Yeah, and it's too bad that I can't say the same thing." Y/N's words cut through the air, laden with disappointment.
Nat felt a pang of guilt and confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice softer now, tinged with concern.
"It means I've been here every day for the last four fucking years alone, while you go out to work, parties, and hang out with your friends. Maybe I'm tired of waiting around for you to come home and acknowledge me, to act like we're actually married," Y/N's emotions spilled out, her voice cracking with pent-up frustration.
Nat's heart sank at Y/N's revelation. "I didn't know you felt like this," she admitted, her voice filled with remorse.
"Of course you didn't. You were too busy spending time with Maria—'oh, Maria invited me out to eat,' 'I'm going to dinner with Maria.' You're obviously not getting what you want from me, so you're getting it somewhere else," Y/N's voice cracked with emotion, revealing the depth of her hurt.
Before Nat could respond, Y/N uttered words that pierced her heart, "Something better change, Nat, or you can marry Maria."
With that, Y/N stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, leaving Nat grappling with the weight of her words and the realization of the rift that had formed between them.
~
After Y/N left Nat to shower, Nat found herself consumed by thoughts of where everything went wrong. She reached for her phone and sent a message to Tony, requesting some time off.As she finished texting Tony, she was surprised to see Y/N emerging from the bathroom.
"Oh, you're still here," Y/N remarked casually as she headed to the closet to grab clothes.
"I live here," Nat replied, her tone tinged with a hint of sadness.
"Yeah, I forget that sometimes," Y/N admitted as she slipped into a nightgown and grabbed a pillow and a throw from the bed.
"What are you doing?" Nat inquired, watching as Y/N prepared to leave the room.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight," Y/N announced matter-of-factly.
"You can have the bed," Y/N said, gesturing to it.
Nat sighed, feeling a pang of guilt, "I don't want to sleep in it alone if you're not there, and sleeping on the couch hurts your back."
Nat took the pillow and blanket from Y/N. Y/N was taken aback by Nat's unexpected consideration. She never realized that Nat actually listened when she complained about her back hurting after their movie marathons.
"Goodnight, Y/N," Nat said softly, giving her space as she headed downstairs with her pillow and blanket.
She laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of how to fix their fractured relationship.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, and she drifted off to sleep, hoping for a resolution in the morning.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha x you#g!p natasha#avengers#oneshot#fixing us part 2#angst
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Hii!!! I just discovered your blog and i have to say, dude i loooooove the way you write about Chilchuck!!! Absolutely lovely!
If your requests are open, id really like to know your thoughts on Chil intereacting/dating with a reader who's also a hafling? Maybe they're also the shortest of haflings even tho they are an adult? (T^T projecting hard coz I'm 21 and havent grown since 6th grade, literally 4'10 lmfao)
Feel free to ignore if you dont feel comfortable with this ask! Again, love all your works 😭💕
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAAH ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! (;;;w;;;) i was so happy to write this because my insert is also a half-foot, so this was fun to do!!! i made this super fluffy so i hope you enjoy it!! <333
— CHILCHUCK: x half-foot reader hcs.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw + gn!reader! suuuuper fluffy!!
꒰ wc: ꒱ 562
✦ hope this is okay anon!!! this was so fun and now i’m in such a fluffy mood. (;;;w;;;) just wanna pull him close and give him so much love, waaaaah.
✦ Chilchuck would definitely use the height difference he has to his advantage. When you’ve been dating for a while, I like to think he’d pull you to his chest and rest his head on your shoulder, enjoying the proximity. Maybe he even rests his chin on top of your head when he’s feeling affectionate.
✦ Cuddling with this man as another half-foot is so nice. He’s going to be the big spoon most nights to feel protective, and in doing so he’s wrapping you up in that warm body of his. If you feel like spoiling him, snuggle your head into his chest as he holds you, wrapping your arms around him. He’d probably melt into the blankets.
✦ We know Chilchuck isn’t very affectionate in front of others, but I like to imagine him still pulling you close behind closed doors and burying his head into your neck after a long day. Maybe he comes home and wordlessly kisses your forehead, pulling you into him and sighing. (He’ll probably not talk about anything that happened at work, but at least he shows you he’s there!)
✦ As you’re another half-foot, dancing with him is a must! Especially after he’s had a few drinks in his system. We know from that one piece of official art that he can, in fact, dance a bit, so I can see him pulling you in as well. Any time you two can, dance with him and enjoy how big his smile is when you grab his hand that’s held out to you.
✦ I saw other people headcanon this, but imagine wearing his clothes and having them be a little baggy on you. You enjoy it a bit too much, going through his laundry and finding something of his to wear. Chilchuck will get a little red in the face at the sight of you in his shirts, but he’ll wave it off and mumble how nice you look.
✦ Leaning up to kiss his cheek and pulling him by his belt towards you will definitely get him a little flustered. We know how this man is with affection, but if it’s from you, it gets his heart beating a good bit. Decorate his face in kisses by pulling him down gently by his neckwarmer and watch as he lifts his hands up to shakily hold your waist. Sometimes he even pulls you to his lips to get what he really wants if you keep teasing him like this.
✦ Going back to cuddling, if you decide to share a bedroll with him, he’s the perfect sleeping partner. Seeing as he likes to sleep on his back, you can easily slot up against his side and rest your head against his chest. He’ll wrap an arm around you to subconsciously pull you closer in the middle of the night. (Be prepared to get super warm and toasty while sleeping now!)
✦ Chilchuck thinks your height difference is cute, but he’ll never admit it out loud. You can use it to your advantage too by walking past him and kissing his shoulder. Maybe even wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. Chil will jump a bit at first, but lean into your touch, especially if you nuzzle into his shoulders. After all, you’re definitely a soft spot for him.
— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33
#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#i really hope you enjoy lovely!!!!#you guys always have such good requests!!!#getting through them slowly but surely!!#i promise to do some other charas soon too!!! <333#i have a laios rq coming up!#chilchuck x reader#dunmeshi x reader#delicious in dungeon x reader#chilchuck tims x reader#dungeon meshi x reader
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