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charliemwrites · 3 months

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A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

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sharkorok · 3 months

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ooo u want me so bad

or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u

requested: nope

cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe

a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place

-the only exception is you.

-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get

-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey

-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him

-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that

-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”

-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3

jay

-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared

-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head

-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”

-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne

-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…

-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all

-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly

-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer

-“u can keep it ig”

jake

-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them

-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that

-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”

-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL

-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!

-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man

-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust

-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…

-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!

-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”

sunghoon

-he’s really protective over you me thinks

-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked

-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor

-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…

-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3

-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you

-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry

sunoo

-he’ll always listen to you

-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways

-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella

-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice

-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation

-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol

-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either

-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf

-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl

-tldr ur word > anyone else

jungwon

-always speaks highly of you

-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL

-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao

-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you

-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO

-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you

-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??

-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe

-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.

-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”

niki

-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit

-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)

-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..

-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!

-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else

-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie

-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”

-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enha fanfic

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luveline · 7 months

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hey luv (haha) bombshell!reader lives rent free in my head and I have a lil request for you 🫶🏽 can you write spencer calling reader a nickname for the first time and how flustered she gets? especially in front of the team I would ashdfkflsjah i feel like she always teases him with baby, handsome, etc. and he just turns red but when it’s his turn for (non malicious) payback she melts into a puddle of 🥹🫦 and forgets how to act 🥲 thank you queen ily 🫰🏼

thank you! this isn't in front of the team but i can def do that if that was the most important part, ly ♡ fem

"What's that?" you ask, peering over Spencer's shoulder.

He turns his face to yours, sneaking a kiss against the curve of your neck. Your breath catches at his affection. "It's online shopping," he answers. "Have you seen it? They deliver your parcel the next day, apparently."

You like the sound of that, wheeling your chair next to Spencer's to sit at his desk side by side. You're in the midst of a very rare occasion in which there's no case and no paperwork. It won't last long, and you and your teammates are using these spare hours like a paid vacation. You deserve it (even if it isn't technically moral).

"What are you buying?" you ask, squinting at his glaring screen.

His gaze flashes between you and the monitor. He turns the brightness down for you. "You need new socks, right?"

"Don't buy me socks."

"Why not?"

"Because I can buy my own socks?"

"But I can also buy you socks. I felt bad this morning when I didn't have any matching pairs to lend to you. I'll buy you a big pack and this way you'll always have socks when you need them."

"Spence, that's so sweet," you say, your hand on his bicep, thumb stroking a line he likely can't feel over his layers. "You really don't have to, though. I kind of like the odd sock look."

Spencer looks down at your shoes. Your socks are mostly hidden. Despite what you've said, you don't like wearing odd ones, it doesn't fit your perfectly kept image, but you like Spencer a whole lot.

"No, you don't, and that's fine." He clicks on the Buy Now button, a twenty four pack of black and white crew socks jumping into his cart. "What else should we get?"

"We?" you ask, leaning back.

You've barely lifted your left leg when Spencer grabs you by the knee and drapes it over his right. "You never have the stuff you need when you come over. We may as well get it all done now while we have time."

"Are you serious?" you murmur, a slight pout to your lips.

Spencer's eyes dart down, catch, and lift back to yours. He sounds soft as you do as he says, "Of course I am. Am I being too forward?"

"You're never too forward. I'm too forward enough for both of us, Spence. But you don't have to buy me things, I can get all of this stuff myself and bring it with me."

"What kind of boyfriend does that make me?"

You can't believe he's your boyfriend. You could scream. "The most adorable one ever?" And that's just the half of it. Spencer Reid has a penchant for ignoring his own good looks. He could've been a super model if the whole genius thing didn't work out. "I need a pillow, then. If we're doing this Reid, let's do it. But I'm paying for my stuff."

"Okay, angel. Whatever you say."

You almost miss it, his pet name. Your brain assumes sarcasm, but when you play it back, there's only a soft giving in, like he'd do anything you asked him to just because it's you. Because you're an angel.

You've called him so many pet names and though you knew they flustered him, you're thinking maybe the team was right, and that you were torturing him the whole time. You melt like a little square of butter in the middle of a frying pan, limp in your seat and uncomfortably warm. Angel. It inspires the want to be saccharinely sweet to him, and you would if you could regain your strength.

You huff a breath up your hot face in hopes of cooling down.

"What kind of pillow? Do you want a really soft one? They have hypoallergenic, or down feather." He looks at you sideways. "You can't pay for this, it's too expensive."

"It's sixteen dollars," you say, feeling submerged.

"Exactly. Are you okay? You look uncomfortable."

"I'm feeling a bit hot, suddenly. Hot flush."

Spencer abandons the computer and his online activities to unbutton the top button of your shirt, and then the second, his hands achingly gentle against your collar. "I'll buy a fan," he says, one hand trailing down your arm soothingly as the other searches for paper. "But for now."

He fashions you an origami fan and fans you diligently. It works for a time, but you remember the dulcet cadence of his voice and the delicate way he strung the syllables together as though 'angel' were the name you were given at birth, and you feel warm all over again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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dilftaroooo · 9 months

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tw: degradation + dubcon

Robber!ghost who intrudes your home in the wee hours of the night — duffel bag in hand, he stalks his way through the back window of your parents' home. The owners decided to take a vacation to the Bahamas as their nice getaway, thanks to the heavy research Soap indulged himself into before letting Ghost go on the mission.

Robber!ghost who infiltrates the master bedroom in search of the luxurious jewelry and gems stashed away in the tiny, little safe they have poorly hidden in the depths of their shared closet. He's quick to warm the shiny goodies in the palm of his hand before gently placing them in his duffel bag.

Robber!ghost who then walks into a room filled with baby pink and lace bedding to continue fulfilling his own greed only to stumble across a body resting elegantly upon the white sheets of the queen size bed — "Bloody hell..." Soap specifically told him everyone would be out of the house so why was this broad sleeping soundly on her sheets as if though her home wasn't getting robbed?

It isn't until robber!ghost takes a focused glance at her vulnerable state to suddenly realize just how gorgeous she was laying there, mouth agape and releasing soft snores with almost every inhale. Her hand splayed across the width of her stomach as she grins at whatever dream her pretty head blesses her with.

Robber!ghost who can't help but steal a taste of her. It'll only be a little bit as he hovers over her to take a soft whiff at her neck — his nose overflowed with daisies and peonies and hints of vanilla. She must've been fresh out the shower because no one can naturally smell like that unless she is an exception to the rule due to how sweet she looks.

Robber!ghost who mildly regrets his decision as you wake up from your slumber, eyes shot wide open as you take a moment to drink in the dark figure with the skull balaclava in front of you. If you hadn't known better you would've thought your time on God's green earth was up and the grim reaper came to fulfill his duty by dragging you with him. His hand covers your quivering lip as he reminds you repeatedly that he wasn't going to hurt you. He would never think of such a thing.

Robber!ghost who grunts at your fruitless struggling because your leg rubs against his groin and you gasp at the feeling of the hard object, mistaking it for a gun since it was so dark for you to see anything. Why would a thief not come prepared with a device to help threaten his victims? Unfortunately for you, this was a different kind of gun.

Valuing your life, you tell robber!ghost that you''ll give him anything for him to keep you breathing and ghost can't help but perk up at the offer. It sounds cliche but who can resist a cute, helpless women offering something so priceless?

Robber!ghost who doesn't hesitate to take it for what it is and submerge his hand deep into your pajama pants and feel your wetness. You must've liked it because the moan you set free was riddled in lascivious need. He'd rub his thumb across your slit, "Is this turning you on? Dirty whore likes to be fondled by strange men intruding her home. You're seriously enjoying this? Sick."

Robber!ghost feels good when he stuffs his meaty fingers in your sopping hole. All the fight you had in you perished when he made you come around him, squirming underneath the intense gaze of the man with the skull mask — eyes vantablack as he watches you without blinking like he's watching his favorite football team hit a goal.

Robber!ghost who leaves through your bedroom window and you follow suit as he climbs off using the rope he had in store. He looks back at you before saying "I'll be back for more, luv." His accent was thick and hefty, you let out a shaky sigh at the pleasurable sound. There was nothing else you can do but just wait.

#simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #mw2 smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost cod #mwii #tw: dubcon #tw: degradation

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eilidh-eternal · 4 months

Text

Having thoughts of the 141 but as the four horsemen of the apocalypse

Despite being known as the four horseman colloquially within the SAS, none of them got their names because of the way they fight, or for some stupidly brave thing they did on an op. Nope.

Gaz - Pestilence

Has an infectious smile. Literally no one can resist it. Can get anyone to do anything he asks with his smile and is soooo smug about it. Flashes it to the shy little secretary outside Price’s office when he needs a favor with his paperwork, or to the base gate-guard when he forgets his ID. He has tags on his truck for that but he likes seeing them flustered.

Price - War

Do. Not. Play. Risk. With. Him. Price has been banned from game night because the rest of the team is convinced he cheats. No one has ever beaten him at Risk—hasn’t ever come close to outmaneuvering him. Ghost takes it personally too because he’s known him the longest and still hasn’t figured out how to beat him.

Soap - Famine

Man can eat. The rest of the team knows to tell him dinner starts 15 minutes later than it really does because if you don’t beat him to it there won’t be anything left. None of the poor rookies have figured that out yet though, so Gaz always takes a little extra to share.

Ghost - Death

The jokes. Oh god the jokes. It’s not even that they’re particularly funny. It’s his deadpan delivery. He may not know anything more than cheesy military puns, but they’re good for talking rookies down in the field. Soap will never admit it but it helped a lot when he was alone in Las Almas.

NSFW below the cut

Gaz

Absolutely abuses his pretty privilege with the lads and ladies. If you think soap is a big flirt? He has nothing on Gaz. This man is disgustingly, sickeningly charming and sweet, even in bed. Is absolutely the type to have you babbling nonsense, clenching down on him as he rolls his hips languidly and murmurs the sweetest praises against your skin.

“Takin’ me so well, luv. Gonna give me one more, yeah? Gonna let me hear those pretty moans?”

Price

Talks you through it. He’s used to talking his team through missions and trainings, and it’s carried over to the bedroom. Especially when you’ve been a brat all day and you’re bent over his knee, counting each strike of his hand against the swell of your ass.

“Only 5 more, don’t get quiet on me now. If I can’t hear you I’ll keep going until you can do it right. That’s what this is for, isn’t it? To teach you to do things the right way?”

Soap

Goes down on you like he’s starving. Absolutely does it for his own pleasure, and is downright nasty about it. Begs you to let him do it, complains that he needs it, that he has to know what you taste like.

Won’t stop whining until you shove his face between your legs to shut him up, and even then he’s sucking and slurping and making lewd sounds, moaning and begging for you to cum on his tongue until he’s had his fill.

Ghost

Listen. He may be an Englishman, but Ghost fucks like the French and you can’t convince me otherwise.

La petite mort.

If he doesn’t leave you limp and tingly all over, he hasn’t finished the job. Will go as many rounds as it takes to see you dumb on his cock, so fucked out your eyes are glazed over and the only name you can remember is his.

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 2 months

Note

hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!

I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking

Them as fathers

Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him

Kenma Kozume

First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.

You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,

No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.

Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.

Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.

Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.

Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.

You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.

He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.

Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.

Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.

Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.

Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)

Yu Nishinoya

Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.

Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.

I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.

Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.

This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.

Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.

And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.

Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.

This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.

Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.

He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.

Kei Tsukishima

When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.

He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.

Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.

Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.

The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.

Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)

You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.

Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.

Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.

Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).

Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

Text

Tag Team (dark!Price x fem!Reader x dark!Gaz)

Price and Gaz have absolutely zero thoughts against fucking a pretty civilian thing that was so conveniently kidnapped just for them. Dream team if you want to be squished between two big men with even bigger...hands.

TW and tags: non-con to dub-con, size difference, power imbalance, fingering, hurt/comfort(but it comes from the ones who hurt you), yandere, dark!141, possessive 141, obsessive 141, kidnapping. AO3

Price genuinely had a great day. He woke up at normal time, unlike always – not at 4 AM, with Lasswell urgently sending him a new assignment even though she was the one to convince him to take a break with his boys for a few weeks.

He woke up at 9 AM – sleeping in, really, felt groggy and tired even after a shower and a cuppa with the best tea he could find at the local Tesco. So, the tea wasn’t very good – but he made the most of it, taking time to cook breakfast for himself because it was still less shitty than whatever slop cooks at the base were making – even though he knew his cooking skills were somewhere on the bottom of his priorities. He chewed on overcooked eggs and caught a fleeting thought of going to the small cafe downstairs. The he thought about eating his breakfast surrounded by families on their Sunday off, students with laptops and bright futures ahead, not even knowing just how fragile everything is – how easy it would be to blow up this whole fucking building to make a perverse political statement. He thought about some cute baristas downstairs and felt…intruding. Not in his place.

Still, the day was nice.

And then Captain John Price, Queen’s loyal soldier, a part of the Special Forces, opened his group chat. Just he and the boys.

And the girl Soap apparently kidnapped.

— Couldn’t wait a bloody minute, Soap?

— Good mornin’ to ye too, Captain. Pricer frowns when Soap is grinning exactly like a cat who got the cream – and a pretty bitch in heat on the bed, ready for him. He did god the bitch – and by that captain meant the cutest girl he ever saw. Soft, crying, pathetic thing that was currently sprawled on the bed in a pose that immediately made him want to comfort you. To cover you with something, to help you clean up – after the photos Soap sent, it was only obvious that lil’ poor you were too exhausted to take another round of sex in your state.

Too bad he and Gaz and definitely not going to stop. Gaz is hovering over you already, hands on your hips – spreading them wide, making you groan from displeasure. His sergeant understands everything immediately – you’re tired, exhausted even, you need some time to relax and they can’t just give you this time, no matter how adorable you look while just laying here. John thinks he can hear you sob softly when Kyle pushes you to the side, allowing you to just open your legs a bit.

Gaz knows how to treat a lady nicely – maybe, even more than Ghost and Johnny ever could. He smiles when you whine and quietly ask him to stop – he kisses the corner of your mouth like he is your boyfriend and you’re just a silly sleepy thing, and he giggles when you frown. He kisses you again, and again, and it’s over and over until your face is tattered with little marks from his bites. Not quite as feral as Soap, but he has his whole team on a mission to impress here – and he had a pretty girl crying under him.

— So pretty, luv’. Don’t fret, okay? I’ll be quick.

— Didnae ken ye supposed to tell tha’ to a lady in bed, Gaz.

Kyle pushes Johnny away with one hand – he already got more of his fill than needed, and he wants you to stop being so scared around them. Seriously, pretty thing, you need to relax already – on your third guy, you should understand that these people aren’t here to hurt you. Well, they are, but not in a way that people like them can hurt other people. You aren’t being tortured. Maybe just a little bit – and still, no torturer would kiss your cheeks and your forehead and whisper sweet nothing in your ear as he slowly creeps with his hand over your pussy, glossy from all the lube that was spread earlier. You just got a bit relaxed after the night – just closed up a little, maybe forgetting the state you were in just a night ago, when Ghost was wrestling you on the bed and…your drunk, hazy mind don’t want to remember any of this – so you moan and you whine when these new people, unknown people, are coming in the room to see you. To touch you. You feel like shit and you probably look like shit – but the guy with the beard, the oldest looking, is putting his hand on your cheek and saying something – you aren’t quite sure what, but you close your eyes and listen. If you close your eyes, you can pretend you want this.

— Atta girl. Broken her already. — Thought she’d be a challenge, captain.

— We can always open the door and let her run for it. Want to chase her with your gun hangin’, sergeant?

— Eh, just takin’ the piss. She is soft.

— A soft girl for us. Soap had a keen eye.

Captain smiled and it makes you feel warm – he looks like a bear when he smiles, that kind of a fatherly figure that makes you think of all sorts of weird things. Like how he would look while fucking you, for example – how rough or how gentle he would be. You gave up forcing these thoughts out of your mind a long time ago – if you can’t escape them, you can at least try to enjoy it. They are seriously not hurting you too much – and you never came quite as much as you did now. And still, you beg them like it’s going to change anything. — Pl…please, I…I don’t want to be here. There are new people – you hope they won’t be up for this. You hope that the younger guy with kind warm eyes and an easy smile, the guy who is peppering your face with soft kisses and puts you on your side so you won’t have to spread your sore legs, the guy that gently puts a pillow to make your laying a bit easier, the guy who is acting like a lover and not a kidnapper, would finally cave in, feeling sorry for you.

You failed to notice the glint in his eyes – that sort of thing that makes everyone trust him, that sort of thing that makes you embarrassed to even think he’d be soft with you. Because, oh little bird, his hand, the warm and big, fingers already covered in an extensive amount of lube, slowly creep over to your ass. You whine, trying to wiggle out of it.

He only needs one hand to keep you in place.

— Come on, luv’. No use gettin’ roughen up when we don’t want you to. — Please, pl…just a few hours, I will be good, promise, just…

His palm lays flat between your shoulder blades, making you sink more into the embrace of the other man – the one with the beard and kind smile, who lifts your chin with his hand and pushes a finger inside. Check you out for the biting reflex – like a good girl, all of your bite and bark and claws were lost long ago. Like a good girl, you are closing your eyes and thinking about England – you open your mouth and let his finger in. Your tongue darts to lick it instinctively, the intrusion almost makes you gag. His skin is salty – like sandpaper to your dry tongue, desire to drink to soothe up your throat makes your voice hoarse.

— No, love. Don’t close your eyes on me.

You still don’t open them – a small hint of rebellion not because you seriously think you would get away with it so easily, but because you couldn’t bear to look at them right now. He looks too kind, too handsome, too frustrating for your tired mind. You want for him to stop fucking looking like that, you want for him to stop touching you. You are a rebel, not looking at him properly – mostly because you…

A harsh slap lands on your butt. You whine from sharp pain and it gives you another smack – this is the first time any of them laid hands of you in a way that wasn’t sexual, and you want to cry from frustration. If torture is inevitable, you’d prefer it to be sex rather than pain.

— Listen to the captain, doll. Open your eyes.

— No. Please. — You don’t want to look at me, eh? — Probably too overwhelmed. Poor girl. We should take it easy for her. — She would be fine. Simon picked a strong girl for us. — Strong? Never saw anyone cry so much before. — Don’t like ‘em a bit more wet, sergeant? — I can take a bit wet. She looks bloody adorable like this. — That she is. They both laugh. You feel like you’re going to throw up again – the knot in your tummy getting tighter, with each second the rough fingertips are caressing your swollen and puffy lower lips, every time Gaz pushes one finger up your clit and massages it like your hips aren’t jolting in overwhelming pleasure this exact second. You can still feel the outline of a giant cock that was inside of you last night – you’re still hurting, feeling like it broke something deep inside, leaving you sore and exhausted. You just want to go home. You don’t want to listen to their banter, friendly and condescending at the same time – the authority levels are making you feel dizzy, trying to understand who they are to each other. Who can be convinced to let you go after this. — Open your eyes before I fuck you, love.

You don’t want to, and it gives you another smack – you feel like it’s going to break the skin soon, the guy behind you isn’t holding any of his strength and it makes you worry about his other hand, still playing with the softness of your cheeks, spreading lube all around your puckered hole. The only thing that wasn’t touched yet – and it’s used just like the rest of your body now.

One long, thick digit deepens into your anus, making you whine and try to wiggle out – but you open your eyes obediently, finally, looking at his kind smile. You can almost believe he will be softer with you now, maybe just petting your head and checking with the others – but you can hear him grunting, changing the position to stand right in front of you. A hand under your chin pushes your face up, to an uncomfortable degree – while still impaled on his sergeant’s fingers in your ass, spreading your tight entrance to a degree that lets you know you won’t be walking any time soon. Price smiles when you stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, still sucking on his finger like a good girl. He opens his belt with one hand, just barely bringing his pants and underwear down to let his girthy cock slap against your cheek. It’s too heavy to stand against his stomach properly, so it spreads little beads of pre-cum all over your skin. You whine when he slaps both of your cheeks with his cockhead a few times, mostly teasing himself – preparing for the main course. He’d love to fuck your cunt and give your lower holes a proper welcome on pair with Gaz – but you look fragile and overwhelmed already. Captain does have a heart, after all. — Don’t bite or we’ll rip your teeth off. Got it? — Pl…please, sir… Oh, you smartarse. Knows how to get him going – knows how to press the buttons that would make even more blood run to his cock, making his erection unbearably hard right now. He smiles when you sob and cry, tears are really making you look even cuter – he pushes his cockhead against your swollen lips, allowing you a taste lick. A little something, solely for you. You whine at the bitter taste, not enjoying it even for a second – it’s a good thing Price doesn’t really care about the thoughts of a random civvie they snatched from a street. The last mission went up the devil’s arse and they all deserve someone warm and soft to just spread their legs and look cute. Maybe, you’ll learn to enjoy their company after the first few weeks. Maybe, he’d bring you back to his house in the countryside, tie you up to the front porch, and use you like the perfect little doorbell. Fuck his pretty girl for a few minutes and let her moans tell him that there are guests. You will do nicely as his pet. So, so nicely. — I asked if you got it. No teeth, little minx, or you will never bite anything again.

— I p…promise. Just don’t hurt me, please, I want to go- — Your home is with us, luv. You know that fighting is useless when Gaz slowly slips his cock inside – not nearly spreading you enough so it won’t hurt. The stretch burns, leaves you sobbing as he slowly bottoms down. Smiling when you wiggle and cry, laughing and kissing the back of your head when his hand slowly slips under your leg to lift it. To provide himself with better access for your small, aching hole.

You want for it to hurt, one agonizing inch after the other – and it does hurt, the man is by no means small, and the only reason you aren’t crying is because your mouth is too busy sucking off his captain. You just blabber something incomprehensible, something that makes them both laugh. You want for everything to hurt, just so you could stop feeling so fucking weird – but you feel the hand slipping down, between the lips of your pussy. Playing with the button of your clit, making you whine as it becomes wetter by a second. You thought there weren’t any more orgasms left to give, but Kyle smiled and pushed his fingers inside of your pussy. Not even wanting to think, you just whine, tongue swirling around Price’s cock as he pushes deeper and deeper. They rock you from side to side – when you choke on one cock too much, throat hurting from the thick length bottoming somewhere far too deep, Price finds his hand lost in your locks, gently pushing you back – deeper on Gaz’s cock. They are working together, perfectly, like a team that has known together for years – there is no hope to escape them, no chance of ever letting yourself go. You want to close your eyes and forget about everything. But when you close your eyes, you can hear the slaps of skin against skin. The wet sounds of your pussy felt ignored as it only stuffed with fingers – as thick as they could be. — You like to take it in the ass, love?

— She’s wet, captain. Never knew she could be such a bad girl.

— Little minxes are the best anyway. Not too much fight left though. — I bet Simon fucked all the fight of her. Didn’t he, doll? You whine, not sure how to answer with a cock in your mouth. They both laugh, knowing your predicament.

You cum embarrassingly fast after this – the rough fingertips doing their job as you’re pushed deeper and deeper into the bed. You hate the damp sheets against your cheek, you hate that you’re so fucking wet, arousal dripping on the sheets only adds to the mess. You wonder if they would just toss them away after this. You figured that men living this kind of life wouldn’t bother with washing the sheets to get rid of the musk. — Pretty pussy feels lonely, yeah? Gaz kisses you again when you cum, whispering praises. Calling you a good girl, the best boy, taking them like a champ – making him and the captain so, so happy, would be hard not to steal you away from Ghost and Soap while they’re too busy with something else. You’re so tired, desperately, you just want to close your eyes and sleep, but they still aren’t done. Still pounding in your body like it’s just a set of warm, tight holes for them – no matter how many praises they whisper. — Will fill her up later. Little thing needs a proper fucking. — Greedy. Not even goin’ to share with me? — Sergeants get sloppy seconds, Kyle. — Glad I took her ass first then. Soap can have her after. — Boy will get spoiled with her around. You get another kiss on your shoulder, barely registrable as you fall tired again. Barely conscious. They continue to fuck you. You’re not sure they will ever going to let you go.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #price x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #john price #price cod #cod x you #141 x reader #yandere gaz #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #yandere male #male yandere

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wingedjellyfishflight · 5 months

Text

A Forgotten Birthday

"How old is y/n then?" The new recruit is always trying to flirt with Soap by asking him gossip and facts about the team.

"Twenty-six." He answers her so easily. It feels like a stab to your heart all over again.

"Twenty-seven." You correct, voice conspicuously devoid of emotion.

"No, your birthday isn't until May, and it's..." His face pales. He whips around to look at you. "We missed it. How did we miss it?" You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

"Some things just aren't important." Your food tastes like sawdust. You give up trying to eat and toss it in the trash on the way out. Maybe hitting the gym will help. No, you know he's going to tell everyone, and you don't want to deal with their pity-filled stares and questions about making it up to you now that they've finally remembered.

Running the trail system near the base is a favorite of yours normally. Today, it isn't relaxing, but anger-inducing. You were on a mission in a forest just like this across the world for your birthday. It was almost two weeks after the day that you got back, and you eagerly waited for the surprise party that Soap, Gaz, and Price always set up for each person's birthday, but... nothing. After three weeks, you gave up all hope for one and steeled yourself to give nothing away. Can't let them see you hurt over a stupid birthday. Can't make the team lose focus or lose your own. You're an adult, after all.

Zoned out, you don't realize how far you have run until it's nearly too dark to see the path. Sitting on a stump, you give in and have a cry about the whole thing. Self-pity taking you over for just a few minutes. Wiping your eyes, you startle when a hand touches your back. You leap up and move to a defensive crouch only to see Ghost's balaclava looming out of the darkness at you.

"Luv, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just, I don't know. Needed a cry, I guess. Didn't think anyone would see me."

"You certainly didn't see anyone. I've been running behind you for nearly five minutes. I could have been anyone. You need to be more aware of things." Your hurt and confusion turns to anger at the lecture he is spouting off.

"Ya, I guess I do need to be more aware. Clearly, I am the problem." You stomp away from him, starting back to base, muttering to yourself about transfers to other teams who might care more. Ghost wraps his hand around your arm and pulls you to a stop.

"What, I make one comment, and you're just going to quit on us? What is actually going on, pet? Someone piss you off or something? Do I need to knock teeth out?"

"I... everyone forgot," you mumble. Ghost glances around to ensure you're alone and tugs you against his chest, rubbing your back. "I was in the shit and when I got back, nobody remembered my birthday." He freezes, hands cradling you.

"They forgot? How could they forget? Your birthday is always at the beginning of the mission season. I thought you guys had it when I was down range. I was gutted to have missed it. Sent you flowers as a sorry." His grip tightens to an almost painful level, and you grip back, remembering the beautiful bouquet that had been left for you without a note. "We will just have to make Soap and Captain pay for forgetting then." You glance up and see his eyes glimmering at you in the moonlight.

"We should probably find our way home first."

"Home, that sounds good." His phone suddenly goes off, making you jump. "Group text. 'SOS emergency meeting. Do not tell y/n.' They ain't even tryin' to be subtle at this point." He guides the two of you down the path, walking quick and assured. Within minutes, he is getting an avalanche of phone calls and texts to the point that he is tempted to throw it into the woods around you, but you turn it off and slip it into his pocket for him.

"Last time you threw one and broke it, Captain said he would glue the new one to your hand, and I'm pretty sure he was serious." Ghost ruffles your hair.

"That was a private meeting, Luv. How did you hear him say that?"

You scoff. "You'd be lucky if the entire fuckin' base didn't hear him tell you that with how loud he was shouting." He just chuckles and guides you both home. He drops you off at the women's barracks and storms into the team meeting, slamming the door into the wall.

"Finally you show up! We forgot y/n's birthday and we are planning a party to make up for it."

"No. You are not."

"What?! We can't just ignore it. We forgot! It's been months!"

"You're not going to force her to accept a pity party to make you feel better about what you did."

"Ghost, I know you hate parties, but she still deserves to know we care."

"So, show her. Before she makes good on transferring out. But no party. I will handle her party from now on since you fucks can't be trusted to remember." He walks out without another word, the room behind him in chaos.

"Why is he acting like he didn't forget, too?" Gaz asks incredulously.

"Because the bawbag didn't. He sent the mystery flowers that made her cry. It was right after he got back from down range. Can't believe I didn't catch it earlier."

Price stubs out his cigar. "So, no party. And she is thinking about leaving. We really cocked this one up, boys." He stands and walks to the door, pausing on the threshold. "No flowers, no gifts. Make it up to her. And Soap," he turns to look the Scottish man in the eye, "sleep with one eye open. Ghost is absolutely going to make us pay for making her cry." He walks away, no pep in his step, now.

"Cry? How does he know she cried?" Gaz seems baffled by the Captain's surety.

"Course she cried. Everyone does when they are forgotten or abandoned."

"Ghost doesn't, though. We never celebrate his birthday."

"We being the key there, mate. Remember last month when she shoved a new set of gloves and a mask at him? Told him the ones he was wearing were manky as fuck. That was his birthday gift." He runs a hand through his hair. "Anyway, I'm off. Need t'think about how I'm gonna beg forgiveness from both of 'em."

#ghost cod #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

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spidybaby · 8 months

Note

golden child part 3!!!<3

Golden Child | part 3

Summary: As your relationship with Pedro progresses, the relationship you have with your brother is in a limbo.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: Hello, this was fun to write. Even tho it took me a lot more than I was expecting. Buuuut, I do hope you like this 😋💛

Also, special mention to @gadriezmannsgirl girly luv yu 💛

Part one | Part Two

"Tell me, where do you think all of this started?"

"The exact time?"

"No, but since you remember."

"I think I was six. Not sure, but I remembered that the first time I felt some kind of envy was when we got our grades back. She was the best of the three."

He paused for a moment. He was trying to remember, remember the way he felt.

"I tried my best, but that wasn't enough. No matter how much I studied, it did not matter. My mom asked my sister to help me with math one time, and I felt so stupid. I was the star on the field, but at home, I felt like I didn't matter."

"Do you think your parents focused more on your sister than on you?"

"No. Mom and dad dedicated all the time they had on the same level. They did what they thought was best. They worked so hard for us."

"And your other sister?"

"Aurora to me was a safe place." He smiles, thinking about her. "She was the shoulder to cry, the arms to go to after a good or bad day. She was home."

"I want to ask, do you feel you were outshine in your family? Not by mom or dad, by maybe the rest?"

"Well, I don't know if outshine is the term I'll go for. I think sometimes we were put against each other."

"In what way?"

"If I score at a game and got the team to win, my family was there to remind us that she was the best grade of all the cousins, siblings. But if she won a trophy for a science fair or something. They were there to congratulate me for the medal I got. Ignoring her."

"And how that made you feel?"

"Like I needed to win everything. Be better than her." He confesses, saying that outloud for the first time. "I wanted to feel like I was making them proud."

"You mentioned someone here, a friend from childhood. You blame her for making him leave. Why?"

"Arturo, he was my best friend. One night, he told me that he never wanted to see me or her again. He wanted nothing to do with us. And the commo denominator there was her."

"What happened after that?"

"I treated her like crap." He sighs, covering his face. "I used to be so mean, such and asshole."

"Elaborate on what you did to her."

"Bueno que también era un niño y no supe manejar mis emociones." (I was a kid who didn't control his emotions) he shrugs. "I used to pull her hair, I used to pinch her, I used to hurt her not only physically but emotionally. And I regret that."

"Why do you regret it?"

"Because I thought that hurting her was going to make me feel better. That's why I isolate myself from her. Because even though I felt good when I was a kid. It didn't as I grew up. And I was too dumb to recognize that."

"You told me that your sister Aurora tried to remedy things."

"She did. She used to play mediator with us, and at the time, I was fifteen. And I used to think that it was fun making her whine and cry. I thought it was a play from her. But I was only hurting our relationship more and more."

"And Aurora never told you anything in private?"

"She tried. But I cut her off leaving the room or not hearing her."

"Talk to me about the last fight."

"I got injured, right. So I needed to be taken care of, mom couldn't. Dad couldn't. Aurora couldn't. So, mom called her, and she helped me. But I-"

He takes a moment to continue. Lying was one thing, thing he thought was okay. Now that he admits he fucked up, it was a hard pill to swallow.

"I told my friends that she was my cousin. And while helping me, she and my friend Pedro got close during this time, Pedro told her about the lies I said. And she didn't say anything. Not to him, not to me. When he found out about it, he confronted me about it. And told me friends didn't lie to each other."

"Take your time. Breathe."

"I felt like the night Arturo left because of my sister. I went home, yelled at her, and well, hurt her."

"How do you feel now?"

"Como un hijo de puta, I feel so fucking bad, because my parents think it's on them, because Aurora can't even be around me, because Pedro and I don't even talk and because I think she will never speak to me in her life." (like an asshole)

"Okay, let's take a breath before continuing."

- three months later

"Pablo, are you joining us?" Javi asks him, entering the room without knocking. "Get up, let's go."

"No."

"Get your lazy ass up."

Javi grabs the pillow Pablo is using, hitting him with it.

"Con una mierda, Javi."

"Oh, don't get fussy, let's go. We're waiting for you."

"We? It's more like you 'cause Aurora is definitely not."

"If you're not down in five, I'll come back with ice cold water."

Pablo and Aurora haven't talked in months. She will do anything in her power not to talk with him. Asking his parents or boyfriend to deliver the message. Texting instead of talking. Everything.

You told her that was totally unnecessary, but she wanted to keep a silent vow. And she was doing such a splendid job in her brothers opinion.

"Hola."

Pablo noticed the way his sister quieted down once he joined. He hates it.

"Finally, we were about to leave." Javi says, excited to get the two siblings together. "Eat something, we're living in ten."

Aurora and Javi planned this hiking trip two weeks ago, but Javi wanted Pablo to join them, wanting to be the one to get these two on talking mode again.

When they left, Aurora was in charge of the music, always playing something she could sing, so she didn't give any opportunity for Pablo to engage.

The hiking was great. They were climbing this place that was open for hikers. The view was beautiful and the air was fresh.

"I want a picture of this view. It's amazing."

"So beautiful."

"Take a picture of me, please."

Aurora hands her phone to her boyfriend, but he has other plans. "Hey, I think I drop something. Pablo, take the picture, and I'll go search."

Before they could say anything, he ran a little away from them.

"Okay. Let me take that picture."

"No."

"Rora, por favor. It's just a picture."

She stares at him for a few seconds, handing the device into his hands. Pablo can't help but smile a little, taking the pictures.

"I been going to therapy." Pablo confess, he's proud of the progress he has made. "I've been constant and it's been so much help."

His parents agreed on not telling anyone, letting him choose who to tell. Aurora noticed some changes, mostly his attitude in the field. He was calm and not as aggressive as before.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "What I did was wrong, the way I reacted. I hurt you, and I regret it."

"You not only hurt me."

"And I'm sorry for that too. But right now, I need to apologize to you."

Aurora stays quiet, a little too long for him to become nervous.

"You know I love you, cabezon." She hugs him. "And I know you're trying to be a better person. You're my baby, and I want the best for you and the best right now is what you're doing."

Javi is smiling from afar, seeing that his plan was successful.

- four months later

"Mami, please. I think I'm ready and I really need to do this."

"Pablito, sorry but no."

"Papá, please help me."

"Sorry, mijo, I'm with mom. We think it is too soon for you to do this."

He buffs, angry at the fact that his parents don't think he's ready to talk with you.

"Fine, I don't care."

But he cares, he wants to apologize, he wants to fix all the things he broke. The therapist told him that if he made a big progress, he had been working on himself.

His whole demeanor changed, and fans have noticed that. He was not that little bomb ready to go off with the minimum touch.

He still has that force and energy on the pitch. Just this time, he's controlling his reactions, choosing his battles.

The whole day, he spent it on his room. He was taking the weekend in Sevilla. He felt needy of love from his family. Needing some homemade food, some quality time with his father.

"Hey, cabezon. Dinner is ready."

"I'm not hungry."

"Pablo, what's going on?"

"I want to talk with Y/n, I feel ready to apologize. But mom and dad don't think the same."

"Ay pablito," Aurora patt his arm. "I know you feel ready, I really do. But in my opinion, you need a little bit more time."

"Just give me her number, please."

"Cabezon, we're not doing this. Let's go eat."

"I don't like you guys." He says, getting inside the bathroom.

- five months later

"Gavi, Pedri, Fermin." Xavi calls. "You're against Araujo, Ale and Robert."

"Pedri, do you wanna be on the center?" Fermin asks. "Let's do this, I'll go for Ronald, Pablo can attack Ale and you Robert, vale?"

Pedri and Gavi nod, positioning themselves next to each other. Since the last time they talked, Pedro was distant. If they had to talk, they did, but most of the time, Pedro would be next to Ferran.

The game was fun. The whole team had a good time. But in Pablo's mind, he needed to talk to Pedro, get on good terms with him.

He waited till the end of training, not wanting to ruin the mood. "Pedri"

"Mhm?"

"Can we talk? Please."

Pedro thinks about it for a while. He's not sure if it was the time or place. "Sure, let's just get a shower and then talk."

Pablo agrees, wanting to wait till the others are gone so they can talk alone with no one to bother them.

"Ferran, te veo en casa de Hector. Bye." (I'll meet you at Hector's)

"Okay, platanito. See ya. Bye Gavi."

Pablo waves him goodbye. He's anxious about the talk.

"So." Pedro says, taking the lead. "How are you?"

"Good, it's been good. Can't complain."

"That's great. I notice you're improving with the penalties."

"Yeah, getting better." He smiles. "How is your leg? How are you feeling?"

"So much better, thanks for the recommendation with the doctor. She's a life saver."

"The physio is the best, she knows how to create the best routines."

"And how is your family?"

"They're good, mom and dad are going on a little vacation, and Aurora is staying with me for a few days."

"Qué envidia, yo también quiero unas vacaciones." (What an envy, I want some vacations too) he laughs.

"How is she?" Pablo drops the bomb.

"She's fine."

They both stayed quiet, and the awkward moment grows by the minute.

"I need to ask you a favor."

"Pablo, I don't like where this is going "

"I need to talk to her. Por favor." He begged. "I really need this."

"No, hermano. I can't help you."

"Listen, I really need to speak with my sister."

"With who?" He asks, laughing, the bitterness of his tone is clear. "I thought that for you she wasn't your sister." Pedro, use the words Pablo told you.

You told him what happened after he insisted. You wanted to keep him away from the drama, but he wanted a new start with no lies.

He left Pablo alone in the dressing room. Angry but quiet. He can't deny the surprise he has at his friend being so calm.

- six months later

"I have something for you"

"Another gift?" You ask laughing. "Pedro, you really have to stop with the gifts."

"Never." He leans over to kiss you. "Te quiero." (I love you)

"Te quiero mucho más." (I love you so much more) You return the kiss, grabbing his cheeks to get him even closer. "What is that?"

He hands you the bag. The big white bow makes it look more fancy than it should.

"No, you didn't."

"I hope this covers my debt."

The dress he, in his own words, ruined with his drink at the party, that party where you shared your first kiss and the same night when he made you his own.

"Oh, Pedro!" You throw yourself at him. He receives you with open arms. "You're such a lover boy." Kissing his cheeks, making him laugh.

"I thought I was your golden boy."

"That too."

"C'mon, we don't want the lasagna to burn," He carries you bridal style back to the kitchen. "Again." He whispers the last part, mouth against your cheek, making you laugh.

"Okay, put me down." You kick your legs in the air. "Hey, tomorrow Aurora and I are going to go shopping. And I know your mom's birthday is coming, so tell me some ideas of what can I get her."

"I think she would want you to have dinner with her instead of a gift, mom is more family like, so yeah."

"Pepi." You sigh, "y si cago las cosas con tu madre?" (what if I fuck things up with your mom?)

"Deja de pensar eso. Mis padres te adoran, incluso les caes mejor que Fer." He laughs. (Stop thinking that. My parents love you. They even like you more than Fer.)

"That's good news then." You laugh with him. "Can I have her number then? So I can arrange something with her."

He nods, handing you his phone. The picture he has as a lockscreen is the two of you in a picnic he planned where he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Some fans noticed the new lockscreen and began creating some theories about who you were. You both were very careful with the fans and the pictures. You didn't want to be public, and he respected that. He was also being a very private person.

The two of you had dinner between laughs and funny stories that Pedro shared with you. You loved how he always plans nights with you even with the little time he has.

🔅🔅🔅

"Javi and I are staying at this amazing airbnb. I need some away time."

"But again, if I mention that I sleep over at Pedro's, you got all crazy."

"I'm not engaging in this talk." She says, walking away to another section of the store.

You both were shopping for her getaway trip, and you loved spending time with her. "Look at this." You grab a one piece that matches her style.

"When are you going back home?"

"Mmm, maybe during this break, I miss everyone. And my room."

You keep looking for something you can get, not liking much of the store.

"I want to ask you, mom, and I are planning this dinner for dad's birthday." She says slowly. "And mom wants to do it at Pablo's. If we decide to make the party there, would you come?"

"I don't know." You mumble. "If it's for him, I would go. You know I don't have a problem with Pablo."

"But?"

"But I don't want to he a burden or create drama."

"You don't create drama Y/n, he does. He always does."

"Always is a little dramatic. He's dumb but not that dumb." You roll your eyes at her.

"A veces creo que eres demasiado buena para todo lo que te ha pasado." (Sometimes I think you're too kind for everything you been through)

"Am I supposed to let this be my villain story?"

"No." She laughs. "Well, to me, that would have been the beginning."

You finish shopping some outfits she put together. Moving yourselves to the food area.

"How are you and Pedro doing?"

"We're good." You blush at the thought of him. "I can't deny you that I'm falling in love with him."

Aurora screams, making some people turn to her. "Rora, stop." You cover your face.

"I can't help it, I've been waiting for this moment since we were kids, and we talked about getting married at the same time in a candy castle."

"A veces te pasas un poco, Rora." (You're a little too much sometimes)

🔅🔅🔅

"Can you turn the AC off? Or pass me your shirt?" You say, getting you head up off the pillow. "Please, it's cold."

"I like you more without it." He walks back to the room with a wet cloth in his hands. He cleaned you slowly, kissing your knees. When he's done he throw the cloth somewhere around his room. He gets back in bed with you. "I love you."

"I love you too." You kiss his cheek, caressing the other one with your tumb. "But turn the AC off."

"Luego me pediras volver a encenderlo" (you will ask me to turn it back on)

He turns on a movie, arms never leaving you. His way of aftercare is touch. He likes being close to you, hands up and down your back, lips on your forehead, hearts in syntony.

This time was no different, one hand on your head, massaging your scalp. Loving the little sounds of satisfaction you make.

His other hand is on you back, drawing little nothings into you. Loving the heat of your body in the cold room.

You kiss his jawline, the raspy feeling on your lips is intoxicating, something you love feeling every time you kiss his cheeks or his jawline.

The movie was playing in the back, you humm the song that's playing in the soundtrack. Lips glued to his skin and hands on his chest, his heartbeat can be felt.

"Let's go to Tenerife this weekend." He breaks the silence between you. "El Mister nos dio cinco días luego de haber ganado. Así que podemos ir por tres o cuatro días si tu quieres." (Mister gave us five days after the win we got, so we can go for three or four if you want)

"Actually, I want to tell you something. I need your opinion."

He waits for you to tell him. You're not sure if bringing the topic is tue right thing to do.

"Mom and Rora are planning this birthday dinner for my dad, and I'm not sure if I want to go."

"You don't want to go to your father's birthday?" He lifts his eyebrows in surprise. "Why?"

"Not that I don't want to go, I do." You sigh tired. "But the thing is that they're hosting the dinner at Pablo's."

He only hummed, not sure what to answer. He's not one to tell you not to go or to force you to go if you don't feel good doing it.

You free yourself from his hold, sitting and looking for his t-shirt. He stretched to the floor, reaching for his shirt and handing it to you.

"I'm undecided." You pouted. "I told Aurora that I want to go, but I'm not sure if Pablo wants me there."

Pedro scratched your back in a confort way. He does this as a way to let you know that he's there and he hears you.

"I don't want any drama, especially not on his birthday."

He thinks about that time in the dressing room when Pablo told him about needing to speak with her.

He didn't tell you about it, mostly because he didn't want you to get triggered about it.

"Pepi," you call him. Taking him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"I have to tell you something."

You waited a few seconds, but after the seconds turned into minutes you decide to ask him.

"Tell me what?"

"Pablo and I talked."

"Okay, about what?"

"Nada, quiere hablar contigo pero le he dicho que no." (Nothing, he wants to talk with you, and I told him no)

"When did this happen?"

He sighs, not wanting to admit that he hid this from you. "Like a month ago."

You turn to him, his hand rubbing his eyes. "A month?"

You tried to process everything. Pablo was looking to reach you out. "Pedro, por qué no me dijiste?" (why didn't you tell me?)

"I'm honestly not sure, I wanted to, but I just forgot."

"You forgot?" You scuff. Se te olvidó decirme que Pablo está buscándome? Y tu le dijiste que no?" (You forgot to tell me that Pablo was looking for me? And you told him no?)

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Mi amor, you should have told me."

You stayed quiet, both of you did. The only sound is the movie still playing.

Your mind is running a thousand miles per minute, questioning everything. Your forehead frowned.

Your eyes look for Pedro's eyes, his eyes glued to the ceiling. Your expression softens. You know he's very protective.

You stretch your arm, hand grabbing his chin to make him look at you. "Thank you, honestly." You smile. "I know you wanted to protect me, I love you."

His hands reach for yours, bringing it to his lips. "Te quiero, preciosa. I promise I didn't mean to keep this, I just didn't find the right time to tell you."

He opens his arms for you. Smiling sweetly, that smile that you can't say no to. You fall into his arms.

"I don't like when you're sad, and I didn't wanted you to feel forced to talk with him when you weren't ready."

"Stop, I get it." You kiss him to stop him from speaking again. "Does Saturday, Sunday, and Monday sound good to you?"

Hie frowns in confusion, not getting what you mean. "What?"

"You said five days. And the dinner is on Friday so we can visit Tenerife for three days and come back so you can rest on the fifth day."

"Mirame." He says, releasing his grip on you. "You're the best, and I hope you know that you will have to die in order for me to let you go."

"And I hope you know that even if I die, I'll come back to get you and kill you to be with you as ghosts together."

He grabs your cheeks, slamming his lips into you. "Wait." He breaks the kiss. "Would you be nice to me when you kill me?"

"Mmm, not sure. If you make me feel good right now, I'll consider it." You joke, smiling as you sit on his lap, your lips looking for his.

- 30 hours before the party

You stood in front of the door. Code already in, but you can't seem to open it.

"Are you okay?" Aurora asks, she's behind you waiting for you to enter.

You nod. You're not sure if you're really okay. You want to stop thinking of the fight. The memories make your head hurt.

"Hey!"

You turn your head to your boyfriend. Pedro drove you and Aurora to Pablo's House. He wanted to make sure you felt comfortable.

"Hey." You whisper, head inside the window car.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." He reminds you something Aurora told you.

"I want to."

"Okay, I'm going to be around here. If you need me, call me."

You smile, walking fast to his side of the car. "I love you. Please don't park a street away and pretend you were somewhere else."

"Ay Joder, you ruined my plans."

After a kiss goodbye and he promising not stalking from afar. You stand next to Aurora. She opens the door and grab your hand to walk inside.

"Pablo!"

You grab the bag of groceries she has in her hands. Walking to the kitchen to leave them there.

"Someone wants to see you."

"Really, who?"

The steps coming closer to the kitchen are making you nervous. Even when Aurora told you to be calm and that nothing was going to happen, you can't help the feeling.

"You coming?"

You grab her hand, squishing it in a way of comfort. His back is facing you. Even his back has this towering feeling.

"Cabezon," Aurora says, catching his attention.

When he notices you, his whole face changes. His expression is softer, but still having his signature frown.

"Voy a dejarlos solos, así pueden hablar. Estaré arriba." (I'm going to leave you two alone. So you can talk. I'll be upstairs)

The silence is thick. The whole thing was uncomfortable for the two of you.

"I like your shirt." You say, not sure on what else to say.

"Thanks, mom got it for me on my birthday."

"Right. Well, happy belated birthday."

"I still have some candy in the freezer if you want. You like it."

"No, I don't." You shake your head no at the thought.

"You don't? What about all the times you used to freeze the candies when we were kids?"

"Pablo." You sigh. "The one that likes frozen candy is you, I used to freeze it for you, not because I was eating it."

"Oh." He joined his lips, and bit from the inside, thing he does when he's nervous. "I want to say that I'm sorry."

You squeeze your eyes. Was he saying it because he felt it or because mom told him to?

"I made a mistake. And I blame hurted you in a way I never meant to." He walks closer to you. "I'm really sorry, you didn't deserve the way I treated you, the way I hurted you."

"You told me that you hate me." You walk past him to the other side of the room. "And that I'm not a sister to you."

"And I regret doing that. I was wrong."

"You hurt me, and I'm not talking about the things that happened that day, I'm talking about everything you did to me."

"I was angry at you!"

"Why?" You say matching his tone. "To my knowledge, I've done nothing wrong."

"Eras tan jodidamente perfecta y todos te querían." (You were so fucking perfect and everyone loved you) he finally says. "You were the favorite in school. You were so good at everything. And then our family used to be like 《oh but Pablo is only good at football. She's the best at every other thing》 I could help it, I was dying out of envy. I wanted to be you."

You stayed quiet. You knew he didn't like it when family members compared the two of you. Your mom tried to stop it, always reminding him that you were two different people.

"Pablo." You tried to get closer. "You didn't have to be me. You were amazing."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Pablito, come here." You open your arms to him.

For the first time in so long, you hug him, his arms squeezed you, his head on your shoulder.

"I need you to believe me. You were and are amazing. Look at you, playing on the team of your dreams, with the national selection. I wish you would have told me this before."

"I'm sorry, I was so angry at you."

"I'm not perfect, Pablo." You caress his back, trying to calm him down. "I'm so far from being perfect. And you know that."

"Well, you don't know how to cook rice."

"Shut up, you eat it."

"No, but I'm really sorry. I don't hate you, and you are my sister."

"It's okay, Pablito."

"No, it's not.' He break the hug. "I was so wrong, all this years. I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry for all these years."

"It's okay. We have time to fix this. We can do this together."

"Te quiero, en serio lo hago. Even tho you burn the rice." (I love you, I really do). He says, laughing. "Please, forgive me."

"Te quiero también, siempre lo haré." (I love you too, always do) you hug him again. Enjoying the feeling.

- three days later

"I want to be a mermaid." You laugh as Pedro splash some water on your face. "You definitely be the crab."

"The crab taking care of the very pretty mermaid?"

"I'll make you take care of a manatee."

"Are there any manatees in Spain?" He asks, confused. "Never seen one."

"You're so weird, but I love you like that." You hug him from behind, using him as a personal flootie.

You spent more time in the water, enjoying the vibe of the island. The sun, the air. Everything with him.

"Mamá nos hizo sus famosas croquetas, así que al fin las probaras." (mom made us her famous croquettes. You're finally trying them)

"Maybe I like them more than I like you." You laugh, grabbing his hands and bringing him close. "Or maybe I'll seal the deal with her over her son."

The kissing didn't last long, as Fer went looking for you to bring you over to the tasca.

"Fer, when are you introducing me to your girlfriend?"

"When he finds one." Pedro laughs.

"Hey!" Fer says, poutting. "That's mean."

🔅🔅🔅

The sun is setting, leaving this magical orange tone in the sky. You smile for the picture, Pedro insisted on taking a picture of you.

"You look amazing."

"Take a picture with me."

"Always."

His lips on yours, making you feel like drunk in love.

"You have no idea how in love I am with you." He says, eyes shining with honesty. "I got to thank Pablo for getting injured."

You laugh at his joke. "We got to thank him."

"No, but really. I love you to a way I never thought I would, even if we haven't been together for that long. Your eyes, your hair, your heart, the way you laugh, or the way your eyes shine when you talk about what you love, the way you always make sure everyone is comfortable. The way you love your family. The way you love my family, how you're with Fer. You're just you. And I'm thankful for that.

You feel like crying. Nobody ever loved you the way that he did, never sharing a love so pure and so great.

"And you are you. For me, it's the way you love football, the way you love your mother's food, how funny you are, and how much you turn into a little kid every time we joke around. How much do you work and get better at everything you do. Your accent is beautiful, your love for your family, for your brother, and your love for me. Because I never thought I would find someone like you."

- two months later (Barça vs. RMA)

"I bet that goal was for me." Fer jokes, making you laugh. "The eyes were looking at me."

"Definitely, I think the wink and the kiss were a symbol of brotherhood."

"I hate that you follow my jokes." He shoves you delicately. "Like, get angry or something."

"Don't even try. We grew up with that." Aurora says, pointing at Pablo. "So, not a chance, she's well trained."

"Yeah, the only one who has to worry here is Chris. She's the one that has to put up with him."

"I'm not sure myself." She laughed at the jokes.

Chris is Pablo's girlfriend. He introduce her to Aurora and to you a few weeks ago, and you now bring her around everywhere like a little sister.

The referee announces the end of the match, and the team won. It was a good day for everybody.

"Let's go, señoritas." Fer gets up, offering his arm to you.

"Let's go, señorito." You joke with him.

You waited by the car, talking about the meal Fer prepared before the match and was waiting for you at home.

"Hello, hello." Aurora say to Pedro and Pablo.

"Omg, you guys did amazing!" You hug Pedro, kissing his cheek. "Congratulations, baby."

"Yeah, yeah, kiss kiss, let's go home, I'm hungry."

"You're just jealous of her." Gavi jokes, hitting Fer in the head. "She got your brother."

"I was his go-to, now I'm the seconds one." He fake cries. Making you all laugh.

"And I got your sister." Pedro shoves Gavi's arm playfully.

"Yeah, you better take care of her. If not, you saw how I shoved Vini? That would be you."

"Okay, stop it. Let's go."

You start walking toward Pedro's car, hand in hand with him while Fer was telling him something.

"Oye," Gavi shouts. Making you all turn. "Me darás mi abrazo?" (Do I get a hug, too?) You let go of Pedro's hand, running to your brother. "Venga."

You land in his arms, squeezing him. "I love you, Pablito."

"And I love you." He kisses your cheek, letting you go. "Let's go, I want some of that burned rice."

"Hey!" Fer says, "my rice is not burnt." He makes Pablo and you laugh.

🔅🔅🔅

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @percysley @jajajhaahaha @cinderellawithashoe @alwaysclassyeagle @christianpulisic10 @utdmount @lilians17 @urmotheris

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Part…. 4 (?) technically of the childhood friend Simon Thought:

(For 🦖 anon who asked for fluff!)

John Price has been on the receiving end of many a gun. That’s nothing new; that’s a normal Tuesday. He’s even had civilians point guns at him.

This is the first time a teammate’s family member has pointed a gun at him, though. If was going to be anyone’s, it would be Ghost’s.

You even have that same look he gets, cold calculation. Peace with bloodshed. Your are absolutely ready to end John’s life right there.

He explains the situation and you listen calmly, hands steady. When he’s done, you reach into your oversized hoodie and extract your phone. Open it and tap at it without wavering from him once.

It rings, but doesn’t pick up. You frown, eyes narrowing a bit. Then click something else, hold it to your ear.

“Hi, Johnny!” You chirp. “Where’s Si right now?”

A pause as he seems to answer. Your eyes soften a bit.

“And your captain?”

Another pause. You drop the gun with a sheepish look.

“No, no, he’s here. Um… I’ll explain later, bye.”

You hang up, click the safety on.

“It’s nice to meet you, captain price, sorry for almost shooting you.”

—

Simon’s awake when you enter the hospital room, sitting up with a black mask over the bottom half of his face. He clocks you as soon as you enter, eyes getting all big and disbelieving.

“Hi, sunshine,” you coo, hurrying to his side.

He lets you crowd onto the tiny cot by his hip, reaching for you to bonk your foreheads together.

“You’re here?” he whispers.

“Always,” you answer.

He lets you sit back after a moment and you instantly begin fussing at him - smoothing is mussed blond curls and fixing his monitor cords so that he doesn’t accidentally pull at them.

“I can’t believe you got shot,” you sigh, “don’t they give you vests or something?”

“Can’t put a vest on a leg.”

You scrunch up your face. “Maybe they should. Christ, billions of pounds in the military and your stupid leggies are unprotected?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “What’re you callin’ ‘em stupid for?”

“Because one has a hole in it.”

You tug his mask down to see his silly grin. It washes over you all at once that you could have lost him today. Never saw that smile again. But you didn’t, because he has a team now. A good one. One that came and got you when it mattered.

“I almost shot your captain.”

“Bet he was chuffed about that.”

“He lectured me about gun laws.”

He snorts, tugs at a lock of hair. “I’ll have a word with him. Just try not to murder him again. He’s not so bad.”

You hum, smiling that smug smile you know he “hates.”

“Oh? Has mister lone wolf found a pack?” you tease. “Have you been adopted, Si Guy?”

He groans, eyes going skyward asking for mercy from a god he does not believe in.

“Alright, alright - I’ve already been shot, no need to take the piss, luv.”

“There’s every need. I bet all these wankers are too scared of the big bad Ghost.”

He tries to glare. You boop his nose, grinning.

“For a good reason - I’d gut ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. He must forget that you used to be taller than him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m quakin’ in my Gucci boots.”

“Those are not Gucci, you little tart.”

You kick off your non-Gucci shoes and climb in with him, help him scoot to avoid bothering his wounds. He leans his head into your shoulder as you pull out your phone to show him all the silly videos you saved since the last time you saw him.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #childhood friend Simon

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cxcewg · 8 months

Note

your social media aus are amazing!! i was wondering if you could do a private relationship between charles x singer!reader (fc: olivia rodrigo) but fans find out?

sour

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader - requested type: social media au (fc: olivia rodrigo) author’s note: aw ty! im glad you like my smaus. anyways, your wish is my command 😚 i aged her up a year for this cuz it'd be a bit weird if they started dating right after she turned 17... also her birthday is no longer february first time i used stories (the format def tripped me up) and i don't know how to edit it so i just tossed some pics on and called it a day - let me know if you know anywhere where i can make insta stories :) tumblr fcked up several times so uhm 😔had to rewrite this a couple times... hope this did your request justice! ❤️ warnings: none! masterlist

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yourusername recharging ⚡

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tatemcrae motherrrr

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conangray literally screaming

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motherism.ts recipe?

yourusername the cookies turned out a bit hard haha but we used the sallys baking addiction one motherism.ts omg you responded! thank you, i will absolutely make them someday :) ariswifey we?

karenelliot Charles, what are you doing here?

elizxbeth LMAO HE LOVES HER MUSIC TOO karenelliot He has good taste. amielliot.1 mom please stop... amielliot.1 it's so creepy when you use grammar this isn't a work email

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yourusername some behind the scenes from the making of SOUR. time of our lives! swipe ➡️for a jumpscare 😂

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tatemcrae stunning omggg

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andreaxx the second pic has me in tears 😆

a_esliehiggins fr lmao

id.otsandwich i love her she's so funny

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kaufman.sharlene uh is anyone seeing the guy behind her in the second pic? cuz that doesnt look like dan at all

liked by scuderiaferrari, joris_trouche, and 1,395,103 others

charles_leclerc Feels good to be back on the podium! Now to recharge the batteries for a few weeks and enjoy some sun 😘

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joris_trouche LET'S GO ❤️

whyisitalwaysme im so happy omg

malcom.parker charles leclerc is so overrated. girls only like him because he's cute.

chrles.lechair bruh yes he's cute, but that's only a bonus chrles.lechair i like him because he's a nice guy, a great driver, he has a great mentality (just look at baku 2017 or bahrain 2017), he's one of the most talented drivers on the grid (rookie season 2018???). he just needs a good car and good team. liked by yourusername lucasduncan for reallll it needed to be said de1dre.brxan amen chrles.lechair OMG YN LIKED I DIDNT KNOW SHE WAS A CHARLES FAN

hherman look at that adorable smile

p1erre.gf1 im so glad ferrari didn't fuck it up for him he does not deserve it

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lestappenfliccs who was that girl you were spotted with?

moll.s who??? lestappenfliccs look at enews's tweet moll.s hes cheating on max???? lestappenfliccs and carlos too 😭

liked by billieeillish, francisca.cgomes, and 2,831,481 others

yourusername 21 has never felt sweeter 🌙

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billieeilish gorg

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yourusername london! doing some traveling in europe right now 😘 maxineb.ford nicee whered you go? yourusername spent some time in belgium maxineb.ford fun! did you go with madison or iris? yourusername sadly not, they're very busy but i spent some time with a friend of mine 🥰

jjmils shes so pretty

ynfan.1 adam fumbled so hard

janisbarton bruh she was too good for that asshole ashlycamerons and then he cheated janisbarton men ☕ ynfan.1 she was so out of his league frr

bettyrice24 the eyes never lie 🥺

lalaur05 girl you tryna make sumthin outta nuthin bettyrice24 smh im just sayin i think our girl has a new boy toy on the scene 😘

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yourusername 🌴love feels extra fun in the sun ❤️

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madisonhu 😘

conangray wish i was there 😭

liked by yourusername

magsmm oh my god the CAPTION?! is yn tryna tell us something?

bettyrice24 guys… i seriously think mother has been snatched up

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charles_leclerc followed yourusername yourusername followed charles_leclerc

yourusername posted on their story!

viewed by conangray, tatemcrae, and 190,819 users liked by 2,381 users

conangray replied to your story!

conangray girl this isn't your close friends conangray WAKE UP STOP MAKING OUT yourusername huh? yourusername shit

tatemcrae replied to your story!

tatemcrae spill. tatemcrae now. yourusername what????? tatemcrae 👀 tatemcrae OK START TALKIJNG GIRL TELL ME HIS LIFE STORY

870 users reacted to your story view more

683 users reacted with 😮 197 users reacted with 🥲

yourusername deleted their story!

yourusername posted on their story!

viewed by charles_leclerc, madisonhu, and 1,938,296 users liked by 8,294 users

liked by your_username, conangray, and 4,178,444 others

charles_leclerc I think you're more than sweet enough. Two years with you have been the best in my life, Ti amo, je t'aime, I love you 😘 i love you, i love you, i love you

tagged yourusername

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conangray you better take good care of her 🔪

charles_leclerc With my life. ❤️ yourusername conan- yourusername charles 🥺 yourusername come here so i can give you a kiss

madisonhu the caption im crying 😭

pierregasly damn 2 years and you're still scarring me every time

yourusername learn to knock

landonorris i went through hell keeping this a secret

yourusername we really should not have told you landonorris hey i'm great at keeping secrets yourusername im sure

apples.oranges THIS WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD

i_fulton1 I KNEW IT WAS HIM ON HER STORY

velmab99 THE BANDANA

bettyrice24 AHAHA WAHT DID I SAY

lalaur05 🙄 bettyrice24 YOU'RE BUYING

irene.larson01 bruhh charles mfing "i am stupid" leclerc managed to pull HER?

oliviakhan there is still hope for me nothoughtsheadempty charles lecrizz who?

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yourusername i thought i was purple until i met you. always cheering for the red team, always yours ❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

landonorris also does this mean we can get front row seats to your next concert?

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tatemcrae i cannot believe you didn't tell me 😭

yourusername im sorryyyy please forgive me 🙏 tatemcrae i accept paddock passes as an apology btw username shes so real for that lmaoooo

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roscoepawparazzi 😭time to take a bath with my toaster

single.sad. heading to the highway, anyone with me?

banana_leclerc ✋

francisca.cgomes aaaa tão fofo so cute

charlottesine belleeee beautyyy

yourusername je t'aime 😘 nous devons nous réunir un jour! i love you! we have to get together one day time44hammertime i love that they're friends apples.oranges THIS WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD EITHER honeybadger3 OH MY GOD CHA HI teamlando4 did charles homie hopper leclerc strike again?? f1gossipnews i actually heard that cha introduced charles to yn after they broke up so 😌no more homie hopper leclerc pieasstree eek i love this sm yn is such a girls girl mrstealyogirl charles needs to watch out his ex is about to steal his girl lol

taglist: @remyspams 😘

requests are open! (i promise i'm working on them)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x singer!reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fic rec

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years

Text

and now?

and when all is said and done... what now?

summary: the one where we hope the streets of monaco won't betray them again. pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver (nicknamed fleur) word count: 6.1k warnings: google translate french, profanity, tad bit angsty and sad. depending on who you are, you may cry

note: this is it. the final chapter of this series. i hope that this provides enough closure for fleur and charles. i want to say thank you to every single person who has supported this fic and has encouraged me to continue. s/o to my ferrari antis for dealing with me and for hyping me up. truly would've never been able to finish this without them. and of course this story wouldn't be possible without my lovely 🌸 anon. luv u nonnie!!! cheers to the end of an era. cheers to charles and fleur

masterlist

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

True to his word, Charles left you alone. No calls, no surprise visits, no more waving to each other. Friends to lovers, lovers to friends, friends to strangers. But that’s what you wanted right? This is what you meant when you said you needed space and time.

It hurts you, as much as you hate to admit it. Charles’ cold demeanor hurts you, stings like you’ve never known. But you could never bring yourself to right your wrongs, to knock on Charles’ door to say that you were wrong and that you need him in your life in some capacity or another. But that felt selfish and wrong. You love Charles too much to ever treat him that way, to ever deduce him down to anything less than what he’s worth. Because he is more than your best friend, more than your first love. He is a person worth loving back with as much ferocity as his, worth all the respect a person had to offer. But you’re not sure you’re ready to give that all back to him. You didn’t want to hurt him more than you already have.

2022 was a season filled with challenges, and 2023 was no different. You were fighting tooth and nail in your baby Blue, all while watching Charles completely dominate the season. You watched from afar, every podium, every win, every struggle, and every triumph. You supported him silently, and truly you knew you could never stop. You wonder if he still did the same for you.

Monaco, a full year since you had won the race and set everything in motion. Your greatest win, and your biggest loss. Race weekend goes as it does, with media and practice all in between. You truly felt the pressure of the weekend starting to weigh you down, the judging stares wondering if you were going to pull it off like you did the year before. Your heart felt heavy as you climbed into your car as qualifying started, helmet on and hands gripping the wheel tightly.

“Okay Fleur, Tsunoda, De Vries, Stroll, and Piastri are out on the track. You’re all set to go.”

The first two rounds of qualifying fly by, you manage a P13 and P7 respectively. Now, your hands are shaking, clammy beneath your gloves as you prepare for the final round. You ask Lucas to read you the top times of Q2, and low and behold Charles topped the field.

“Just need to be ahead of the Mclarens Fluer, that’s all we ask.”

Lucas’ reminder is of no comfort, but it is what he sends you off with. By the time you make it onto the track, Carlos, Max, and Checo were zooming past you on their flying lap. You did your best to stay out of their way, moving left and right to heat up your tires while creating enough space to give yourself a good start. Nerves begin to settle deep in your gut as you approach the starting line. You inhale deeply, pushing full throttle as you speed through your flying lap. The track is engraved in your memory, you could drive the circuit with your eyes closed.

You steer, shift gears, you try to do everything correct. And at the end of it all, by some twist of fate you end up P2.

“I don’t know how the fuck you did it Fluer, but you’re P2. Charles is P1.”

You don’t hear the rest of what your team has to say to you. All the congratulatory remarks fly over your head, ears ringing as you pull in front of the number two. Your blue Alpine, splitting Charles and Max. You have to sit in your car for a moment longer, trying to calm your nerves. Slowly, you begin to climb out of your car, slipping off your headgear as you approach the two boys who were in deep conversation. You try to make yourself small as you grab your water bottle and towel, but Max is quick to come over and shake you by the shoulders.

“Look at you Flower!” Max teases, “Beat me by eight–hundredths of a second!”

Your cheeks turn red, “It’s Fleur,” is all you manage to say.

“Be careful Charles, she might come and take your title.”

You choke on the water you’re drinking. Charles smiles, avoiding your eyes, as he shakes his head at Max’s comment. You know the Dutchman meant nothing by it, the cheeky smile on his face proving he was just trying to make a joke. He didn’t know any better, didn’t understand the newer significance Monaco held for the both of you. Max walks off, leaving you and Charles to stand there awkwardly.

“Good job today,” you say.

He smiles, muttering a thank you before he turns to watch Max give his interview. He doesn’t try to talk to you, doesn’t even spare you another glance. You nibble on your bottom lip, eyes fixated on the opening of your water bottle as you try to distract from the pang in your chest. Max doesn’t take too long, and soon you are taking the mic from him to take your turn in front of the camera. It’s all a blur, just one generic question after the other. You keep your answers short and curt, and you wonder if it’s obvious you’re aching to disappear. The photo op was nothing short of awkward, with Charles hovering over your skin as he pretends to hold you close. You feel your throat tightening as you walk away, and you try to fight back the tears throughout the rest of the day.

You find yourself dreading to get into the car that Sunday. The nerves were sitting, brewing within you and you found yourself bent over the toilet just thirty minutes before you had to get into your seat.

“Fleur, if you can’t do it it’s okay. No one will be mad. Mick is on standby, ready to hop in if you need it,” Lo coos, rubbing your back.

You shake your head, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe the sides of your mouth. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, flushing the toilet and standing back up. Your reflection shows you your bloodshot eyes, tear tracks staining your cheeks, and your nose runny. You looked ridiculous. You quickly rinse out your mouth, blotting your face dry with the paper towel before returning to the garage. All eyes are on you, everyone suddenly worried and well aware of how differently you’ve been acting all week. Esteban is by your car, smiling sympathetically.

“Est-ce que ça va?” He asks, rubbing your back.

“Je vais bien.”

He bids you goodluck before returning to his side of the garage. It isn’t long until you’re driving your car around the circuit, pulling up right next to Charles in the front row. Your eyes fall shut, head resting back against your seat as you take deep breaths.

You don’t see it, the way Charles is looking over at you as he climbs out of his car. He watches the way you sit so still, so quietly in your baby Blue, he was worried you might’ve passed out. He only looks away when he sees you stir, undoing your seatbelts and removing the HANS device from around your neck. Lo is by your side immediately, coaxing you to drink water which you are quick to refuse. He wonders what’s wrong, almost tempted to walk the few short steps and ask.

It must be the nerves again, he thinks to himself. You were always one to get sick before important races, sometimes resorting to throwing up just to feel a little at ease. He wonders if you still pop Mentos in your mouth– specifically spearmint– to remove the acidic taste in your mouth. You do, his question answered when he sees Lo hand you a green cylindrical package. He nearly does it, nearly brings himself to walk over and wish you luck, but soon Max is patting his back and he realizes the anthem is about to start.

You and Charles are placed right next to each other, ahead of all the drivers, as you wait for the anthem to play. You don’t say anything to each other, don’t spare him a glance, nothing. The air is thick, awkward, as you both try to pretend that the other isn’t there. The anthem plays, and your head falls backward ever so slightly. Your eyes close and you begin to get your mind back in the proper headspace. You try to forget the nerves, to forget about the event of last year, reminding yourself that they don’t matter anymore. You try to talk yourself off a cliff you’ve made for yourself, and hope to god that you’ll come out of it alive.

The anthem ends, and the roars of the crowd begin to grow in volume. Goosebumps form on your skin at the sound of the fans chanting for you and Charles, screaming wishes of good luck and love. It fills you with courage, happiness, and almost makes you feel whole. It is only then do you look up at Charles, smile small but resilient and filled with good intentions. His eyes are curious as he stares back at you, watching to see what you were about to say next.

“Bonne route, je suis si fière de toi.” Have a good drive, I'm so proud of you.

Charles’ eyes grow wide, surprised that that was the first thing you’ve said to him since Monza the previous year. Your father’s words, an old tradition you both had packed away for nearly a year. It sparks a bit of hope in him, but he’s quick to shut it down, shaking his head. He smiles back, genuine and shy as he nods.

“Bonne chance Fleur,”Good luck Fleur. His voice is soft, clipped of any emotion. They both stand there, unsure of what to say or do next. No one moves to hug the other, no knocks on the helmet, just frozen in place. Charles finally makes the first move, nodding and turning away to move straight to his car.

You can’t help but feel slightly defeated, almost downright foolish for saying those words. You shouldn’t be surprised at his response, and you scold yourself for hoping for anything different.

You climb into your car, gear on and fingers gripping the wheel tightly. Once again it was you, your car, and the streets you call home. And just as last year, the roads you grew up on did not betray you in the slightest, and neither did it betray Charles.

“P2 Fleur! Amazing drive today, fucking phenomenal once again. The people are happy, singing!

You scream out in utter joy, rounds of thank yous to every single person on your team tumbling past your lips. Your P2 can only mean one thing and it makes your heart soar.

“Results are Leclerc P1, you P2, and Sainz P3. Again, amazing drive today Fleur. Can’t wait to celebrate tonight!”

You let out a giggle, all too giddy about the outcome of the race. You slow down slightly on your cool down lap, placing yourself only a couple of feet behind Charles’ car as you both wave to the crowds of people who screamed for the two of you. Monaco’s pride and joy, the top two finishers of the race.

By the time you park in park femme, Charles and Carlos are already being grabbed and pulled by the men in red. Your team greets you with the same enthusiasm, your smaller frame being carried left and right as they celebrate you. Just as they lower you, you spot the two Ferrari boys chatting on the side. Your feet move before your mind has time to process what you’re doing. You must’ve looked silly, helmet still on as you sprint across the way to jump on Charles. You hear his squeaky laughter, feel his hands wrap around your middle as he spins you around.

“You did it!” You shriek, squeezing him tightly.

“You did it too.” He lowers you, pulling your helmet off your head while you pull your balaclava off.

You’re beaming up at the Monegasque, panting and overwhelmed with emotion. You can see the tears brimming over his green eyes as looks down at you. Your fingers find his, squeezing lightly.

“Ils sont si fiers de toi, je le sais.” They're so proud of you, I know they are.

Charles nods, shaking tears onto his rosy cheeks. You engulf him into a hug, one he gladly accepts as he buries his face into your shoulder. The people around you scream and cheer, in awe of the emotion shared between the two of you. When he pulls away, his face is wet with tears, eyes red, but a smile on his face. He rests his forehead against your own, trying to steady his breathing. It’s as if the rest of the world didn’t matter at that moment. It’s just you and Charles.

Charles opens his mouth, about to say something, but the interviewer calling your name cuts the moment short. Charles’ hand squeezes yours before he finally pulls away and lets you go. There’s another shift in the air between you two, the happy moments you guys shared suddenly forgotten. It was as if that small, intimate moment never happened. You put on a brave face, taking the mic from Carlos and walking up to the presenter.

“Fleur, the fans are screaming for you. They’re excited, happy. How are you feeling?”

You smile, “Ah, it’s probably more so Charles than for me but… I’m so happy. This race was beyond amazing. I’m… I’m very happy.”

“Obviously, there were some intense moments between you and Charles during the race. You nearly took the lead a couple of times. Did you let Charles have this race?”

You have to suppress the scoff that wants to come up. Your lips are tight, a forced smile on them. “I’d never just give up a race, as much as I love Charles, I enjoy giving him a hard time just a little more.” you joke, “But no, I never came quite close enough to ever pass him. He’s on a different level today… What can I say, Charles is simply that great of a driver.”

There is a little more back and forth before you pass the microphone off to Charles. You lean against the door frame to the cool down room, completely enamored at the way Monaco loves him. His eyes are glowing, bright and filled with so much adoration and appreciation for the city he calls home. He looks so happy, and you can’t help but feel your heart melt for him. You only stare for a minute longer before you retreat into the building with the screams of Monaco behind you.

The celebration that night was nothing short of grand, your teams and Charles’ coming together to celebrate Monaco’s pride and joy, plus Ferrari's double podium. The club is packed with people, everyone drunk and sweaty. You spot multiple drivers on the dance floor, all too intoxicated to bother greeting you. Your team is the first to spot you, screaming your name and cheering loudly. There is a loud chorus of your name and other French gibberish as Lucas yanks you towards the table. It took three shots in a row of straight tequila for you to finally find your way out of the crowd and towards the bar. The alcohol is already in your head, the room suddenly just a little warmer, and walking kind of felt like floating.

You thought that moving to the bar meant being left alone, but really you should’ve known better. First it was Max, then Pierre, and soon after Daniel, all of them buying a round of shots and berating you until you take one (or three) with them. Now the club was hot, you were sweating, and walking felt like you were on a tightrope. In your drunken stupor, you order one Long Island Iced Tea, just one to get you through the rest of the night. You nurse your drink, sipping along as you dance your way through the crowd and towards the exit. The cool air feels like heaven against your clammy skin, wind blowing at you as you open the doors. You hold onto the wall, steadying yourself all while sipping on your drink.

“Fleur?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. Charles is looking at you from a couple feet away, eyes squinting as he tries to confirm to himself that it is in fact you. He takes slow cautious steps towards you, only speeding up when his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and can make the features on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, taking the straw out of your mouth. “So good.” you slur.

He smiles. It’s a half smile, only one dimple indenting his right cheek. “What are you doing out here?”

“Need air, ‘twas hot in there.”

He hums in agreement, “Yeah… too many people in there I think.”

There is a lull between you two, with Charles leaning on the wall next to you while you nurse your drink. His eyes are focused on the sky, jaw clenching every now and again. He only shifts his focus at the sound of your incessant slurping, as you try to drink every last drop from your cup. You freeze in your spot when you feel his gaze on you, lips parting ever so slightly.

Charles is enamored by how innocent you look before him, even in your drunken state. Your eyes are slightly hooded as you stare at him, lips plump and shiny as you pull away from your straw and lick the remnants of your drink off them. He knows you’re blushing by the way your eyes dart away, and how your cheeks puff up while you try to fight an awkward smile. The kind of smile that puts your lips into a scrunched, tight line. If it weren’t so dark, he knows your cheek would be even redder than it probably already was.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, voice small and nearly drowned out by the cars driving by.

His heart skips a beat at your words. It is completely on fire at the close proximity between the two of you. When you asked for space and time all those months ago, he did his best to stay away. He avoided you as much as his job allowed him, even if it pained him to do so. He wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary. The last eight– nearly nine– months were some of the most unfulfilling times he’s ever lived. It all felt bland without you. Nothing has really ever been the same, and the longer you spend apart, the more he worries that it will always be that way. But in short, he always misses you.

“Do you miss me?” he counters, looking away and down at his black sneakers.

You choose to stay quiet, leaving the question hanging in the air. It’s thick again, thanks to the unanswered questions. Of course you missed him, but it didn’t feel right to say outside of a club while you were very drunk.

“Can we talk?” you ask, “But when I’m not drunk… I want to talk to you.”

Charles raises his brow, “Will you even remember this?”

You nod profusely, but even you doubted yourself. You hoped you would remember. Charles reaches in his back pocket, pulling out a sharpie and you can’t help but burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

“Why do you just have a sharpie?”

He looks to the marker then up at you before he smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I accidentally took it from a fan.”

This had you giggling even more, hand moving over your mouth as you tried to stop. There really wasn’t anything funny about Charles having a sharpie, truth be told if you looked in your purse you probably had one too. But the alcohol was telling you otherwise, and so now you’re standing in front of a blushing Charles, giggling like he had just told you the funniest joke ever.

“It’s not that funny Fleur.” He mumbles, a ghost of a smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But it is. You’re always so prepared somehow, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird.” He whines. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just you. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

The laughter dies down at your confession, the smile slowly disappearing from your face. You begin to panic, feeling as if your comment might’ve ruined the moment, or even deter him from even wanting to speak with you. But then he moves closer to you, licking his lips before pulling the cap off with his teeth. He places the cap on the end, before grabbing your arm gently and scribbling along the inside of your wrist.

“This isn’t healthy you know,” You comment, referring to the sharpie against your skin.

“Yeah and neither is this back and forth thing,” Charles mutters, retracting his touch and shutting the sharpie.

You’re about to say something but the door swings open, revealing a very drunk Mick. The boy’s face lights up when he sees you, screaming into the loud room that he found the two of you.

“C’mon, everyone has been looking for the two of you!”

Charles nods, walking towards Mick and leaving you completely dumbfounded. It takes Mick grabbing you by the arm and leading you in to finally make your way back to the party. The rest of the night is a blur, with more alcohol and even more dancing. You don’t remember exactly how you got home, but there are bits and pieces of Lo carrying you up and putting you to bed.

You wake up the next morning, head pounding and eyes burning from the sun pouring through your open window. You groan softly, turning over and trying to go back to sleep. You move in every which way, trying to get comfortable and slip back into a peaceful slumber, but your headache and turning stomach keeps you awake. You sigh, eyes opening as you turn to lay on your back. You’re about to rub your face when you see marks of black on your wrist, and you have to do a double take.

Call if you remember. CL.

You were confused, brain scrambling to remember pieces of the night where you were with Charles. You can see Mick… Max… Daniel… but no Charles. You nibble your lip, grabbing your phone to see if there were any texts from the Monegasque, or literally anyone who could explain the writing on your wrist. Much to your disappointment, the only texts on your phone are from friends and your team, congratulating you and reminding you to drink lots of water. You groan softly, sitting up and clutching your head.

You move about your day nursing your hangover. You sit on your couch, staring at the letters on your wrist over and over, just hoping that something will click. Call if you remember. Remember what? You wonder if you said something stupid, maybe pissed him off, or even worst: hurt him even further. You groan softly, falling back on your couch with your hands over your eyes. Your memories of the night are an incomplete jigsaw puzzle that you are so desperately trying to put together. The feeling of not knowing eats you alive. It makes your stomach turn, heart thumping sporadically beneath your chest.

You must’ve laid like that for another ten or so minutes before finally deciding to pick up your phone and dial Charles’ number. The phone rings thrice before he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice is rough, thick with sleep.

“Hi,” your voice is small, you wonder if he even heard you. “Did I wake you?”

He hums, “Yes. Is everything okay?”

You stare at his messy handwriting on your skin, the black ink beginning to dull. It’s just quiet breathing for a couple more seconds before you decide to speak up. “You said call if I remember… and I remember.”

You lie through your teeth, and you hope and pray you get away with it.

Charles sighs on the other end. “Okay. I don’t want to do this on the phone. Can I come see you?”

“Yes. Yes I’ll be home all day… so just let me know when you’re coming over.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

He hangs up before you get to say bye. Your hands begin to sweat, leg bouncing as the nerves begin to settle in again. You decide on a shower, hoping that it will help you feel better and clear your mind. But even after an entire routine, skincare and all, your mind was still drawing blanks. Charles’ text soon comes, letting you know he’s enroute, just two minutes away. You try to tidy up as best you can, making your bed and rearranging the throw pillow on your couch. These little things used to never matter, but now they’re the only thing keeping you together.

Three taps on the front door tell you that he’s here. You feel your nerve endings come alive, setting your skin on fire as you move closer to the door. You unlock the door, swinging it open to find Charles standing there, Monza hoodie over his head and sweatpants to match. He looks tired, his skin is dull and purple around his eyes. But even then, he smiles and mumbles a quiet hi. You step aside, allowing him to walk in. As soon as you shut your door, you’re trailing behind him all the way to the kitchen table.

It’s funny how time works, the way the universe manages to bring you back to the same spot with the same person just one year ago. You cringe at the memory of Charles begging you not to let him go, and you wonder if he remembers too. He pulls a chair back, the same one from a year ago, and he pauses for a moment. You watch as he stands there, staring down at the chair. Of course he remembers. How could he forget one of the worst days of his life?

“Do you want to go to the living room instead?” You offer meekly. He turns around, nodding, before walking towards your couch.

You sit across each other, maybe two or so feet of space between the two of you. You bring your feet up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest as you ponder over what you should say. Charles watches you from his seat, the blank look in your eyes as you stare at seemingly nothing. He leans back into the couch, pushing the hood off his head before resting his hands on his lap. He rubs his thighs slowly, trying to keep his hands busy and his anxiety at bay.

You aren’t sure how long you both sit in silence before Charles finally says something.

“I do miss you,” His voice is barely above a whisper, a slight waver in his gentle admission. “I always do.”

Your head perks up, and like that memories of the night before come flooding back. You remember asking him if he did, if he missed you. You remember he asked you the same question back, and that you wanted to talk to him when you were no longer inebriated. You remember the way he looked at you, how good he looked under the street light.

“Why am I here Fleur?” Charles speaks up again, “Are we going to go back and forth again? Am I going to beg to be in your life, and then you’re going to push me away? Because if that’s how it’s going to go I can save you the trouble and just leave.”

You shake your head, sitting up in your place. “No. At least I don’t think so. I want to talk. I want to fix us… whatever that means.”

“What do you want it to mean?” He raises his brow.

You’re quiet again as you think about your answer. You know one thing for sure: that you wanted Charles in your life. That you didn’t want things to be awkward and to pretend like he was invisible when he clearly isn’t. You wanted the traditions, the helmet taps, and the juice boxes. You wanted it all back.

“I still have juice boxes before quali,” You say, “do you?”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he still answers. “Yes?”

You smile, nodding. “I spent the last couple of months wondering how you were. Wondering if you still drank juice boxes, if you liked the coffee candies I got you in Austria. I think about whether or not you still hate ice baths or if you’re used to it by now.”

“Fleur…”

“I wondered if you still thought of me even when you pretended like I wasn’t there… if that night in Monza made you hate me. I wonder what songs you listen to before getting in the car, and if you still tap your heart two times before the lights go out.” You lean back, eyes cast on your legs as your vision blurs with tears. “Truth is Charles I haven’t really stopped thinking about you and how you’re doing.”

You turn away, looking out your glass sliding doors as you try to swipe away the stray tear that escapes your eyes. You can hear Charles move, feel his body heat as he shifts closer to you. The feeling of his thigh next to yours makes you look at him. You watch as he sticks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling a balled fist and opening it in front of you to reveal two coffee candies. The same candies you sent him in Austria last year.

“I have at least one in my day, maybe two when I miss you a little more than normal. I still hate ice baths, I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it. I have a new playlist for this season… I’ll have to show you sometime. And I tap my heart three times now. One for Jules, one for papa, and one for you.” He balls his hand into a fist, holding onto the candy.

“Avoiding you… ignoring you was the only way I could give you what you asked of me Fleur. But it killed me to do that. My heart always felt so heavy, and I felt like I was winding down this hopeless road. There were moments where I felt like I was going to cave, I came close to walking over and knocking on your door. There were countless times I almost called you, just to get a moment of you. But then… I’d see you smile and I’d hear you laugh and I stop myself. You looked so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

At this point, you’re both crying. Every word that came out of Charles’ mouth set your heart on fire, released butterflies in the pit of your stomach, ignited a bit of hope in you. You look up at him, and he smiles at you with tear stained cheeks. He reaches over to you, cupping your cheek to swipe the wet from under your eyes. You lean into his touch for a moment before he retracts his hand.

“I’m so sorry Charles, for everything.” You stammer, your shaky voice betraying you. Tears fall from your eyes, and you scoff at yourself for crying once again.

Charles frowns, his hand coming to swipe the tears with his thumb. “You don’t need to be sorry. As hard as it was for me, you were right. Time away from me might’ve been good for you, as weird as it is for me to say.” You both let out a short laugh. “It was good for me too I think…. It helped me appreciate things in my life even more. And I never pretended you weren’t there. I always saw you, always heard you. Truth be told Fleur, I’ve fallen even harder for you from afar.”

Even through tears, he managed to make your heart soar. You are filled with warmth, his words sitting comfortably in your heart. It was like the air was beginning to thin out, that breathing was becoming easier with each passing second.

“I want you back in my life,” You profess, “I really do Charles. I want juice boxes before qualifying, the pre-race traditions. I want to be able to celebrate with you, and to mourn with you too. I want all the good and bad, everything in between. And I know it’s been a year, and maybe a year too late, but I want to try again.”

You finally said the words Charles longed to hear. He dreamt of his moment for the last twelve months, and yet he finds himself frozen in place. He was drawing blanks, no words in any of the four languages he knows were coming to mind. All he could do was sit there and stare.

You shift in your seat, leaning your top half back to create some distance between the two of you. “Charles?” No answer. You begin to panic, “If I’m too late then just say so.” Still no answer. “For Christ's sake Charles, say any-”

He kisses you. Charles grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. Your hands are desperate, clutching onto his hoodie as you move your lips against his own. The kiss is passionate, messy, but filled with love. One of your hands moves from his chest to the back of his head, clutching onto his locks tightly. He kisses you like his life depends on it, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind. Charles finally slows down, his kisses growing gentle until he stops. His green eyes search yours, looking for any sight of doubt.

“Did you get what you hoped for?” He questions softly, “Did you turn into who you wanted to be… who you hoped to be without me?”

Your forehead pressed against his as you contemplated your answer. The last year has shown you many things about you and what you needed in your life. It showed you the sweet life of independence and the tumultuous journey learning to love yourself can be. So you nod.

“Yeah. It taught me patience, that being alone is okay. But it also reminded me of how weird life is without you and no matter how far I wander off, or how much I might’ve grown, that I still wanted you by my side. It made me want more. I want more… I want to go all in. Do you?”

He nods feverishly. “A year without you made me love you more, and love who you are beyond me more than I thought I ever could. I want all of you Fleur, so long as you let me have you.”

You hold his face, kissing him again. He squeezes your sides and you finally pull away. You smile at him, thumb caressing his skin. And as you look at him, you feel yourself bloom under his gaze. His eyes twinkle when looks down at you, bright and lively like you were the sun and the stars in his sky. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life other than this moment right now.

“I’m all yours Charles. I’ve always been yours.”

Charles engulfs you into a tight hug, squeezing you tightly and pressing a kiss to your temple. He never wanted to let you go. A year ago to the day, he sat in this apartment with his heart falling out of his chest. He spent that year trying to love you, both next to you and from afar. Charles lived in constant heartache and regret, in fear that he fucked up the only good thing in his life. And now? None of it seemed to matter. All that matters is you and him, holding each other and ready to go all in.

“Je vous aime. Et je prouverai que je le fais pour le reste de ma vie.” I love you. And I will prove that I do for the rest of my life.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @miniminescapist @amsofftrack @melancholyy-scorpio @strawberrypaul @somanyfandomsbruh @allisonxf1 @ohthemisssery @molliemoo3 @idkiwantchocolatee @charles-dimple @claramllera @ellethewitchbitch @sh4wtybrave @ifancycharlesleclerc @earfquak3 @kissatelier @bisexual-desi @alwaysclassyeagle @buenadiabebeta @allforkook @ironmaiden1313 @sachaa-ff @lovingonshawn @moonyinterlude @oneoftwoghosts @llarue @home-of-disaster @gryffindorbraveatheart

and ofc, my ferrari antis: @kodzubear @meteor-lights @coffeehurricanes @bigdiccricc @micks-afterglow

#wtia #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

Text

Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)

Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.

Gaz was always an expert on knots.

Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…

— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’

He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift.

You’re a bloody gift.

— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye?

Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right?

You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s.

Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in.

You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic.

Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you.

Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should.

— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us.

— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart?

You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight.

Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.

Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh?

— Sergeants outdid themselves this time.

— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love?

Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price #captain john price #soap #soap x reader #soap mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #dark ghost #dark 141 #141 x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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