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tacticaldiary · 8 months

Note

Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission

Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price

The Price Of A Secret

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"

"This is different." He grits out.

"And why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-

Masterlist

The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.

"She's not coming."

Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.

"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"

She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.

It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.

His wife.

"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.

"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.

His determined, hers resolute.

Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.

He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.

"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."

"Price-"

"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?

Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.

Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.

Successfully, not smoothly.

The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.

Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.

Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.

When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.

The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.

"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.

It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.

Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.

"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.

Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.

He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.

Nobody speaks.

Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.

The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.

It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.

"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.

"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.

"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.

"At a fucking cost."

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.

"This is different." Ghost grits out.

"Why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.

It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.

But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.

She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.

What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.

"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.

"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.

"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.

"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"

"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.

"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."

It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."

He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.

A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.

"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.

Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.

And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.

She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.

He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.

Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.

And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.

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(10/09/2023)

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singmyaubade · 1 year

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No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

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lovingksuki · 1 month

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✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here

wc: 1,3k

the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.

"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.

"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."

"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.

"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."

"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.

"that you have a slight cru-"

"I don't have a crush."

"admit it already."

"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."

"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"

"no."

"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.

the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.

"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.

the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.

"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.

absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"

"for what?"

"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.

"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.

you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:

"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"

"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"

"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.

"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"

and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.

"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."

"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.

"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.

"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.

"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.

"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.

"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.

"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.

when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking

kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.

when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.

watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.

that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.

"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.

"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"

"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.

"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"

"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.

"you're right." you pouted.

"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"

"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.

"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.

the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.

you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.

"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.

"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.

"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"

"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"

"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.

walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.

"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.

she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"

"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.

"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."

"wait. what the-"

"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.

the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.

"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.

"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.

when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.

"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"

katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.

"h-hey."

"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.

"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"

"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled

his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill

"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"

he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.

"deal."

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #self insert #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #my hero academia

458 notes · View notes

warnersister · 1 month

Text

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

623 notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 3 months

Text

Watch it burn. (Ghost x Reader.)

!this is pure smut, you've been warned. absolutely no minors. age gap, sex pollen, unprotected p in v sex, violence!

Ghost was hard headed and everyone knew that.

He didn't always communicate too well and sometimes he kept things to himself until it was unhealthy but that's who he was. He was a damaged person. He had walls up like fort knox. That was just Ghost. Not many knew about his past, but when you came along. Things started changing in weird ways that everyone on base never really seen coming.

Ghost seemed irritated by you at first. You were still pretty new to everything and needed some training but Laswell and Captain Price had both taken a liking to you and decided pretty quickly that you'd be a great addition to the team. It was an easy decision.

When you officially started on base, everyone fell in love with you immediately. Aside from Ghost obviously. You were still a little immature and Ghost didn't like that. The military wasn't meant for people like you and that caused a rift between you in the beginning. Slowly though, you started to prove yourself to him. When he was training you followed him around like a lost puppy asking him for tips and asking him to show you the best ways to stay in shape.

When he was in charge of you on missions, you always buckled down and followed everything he said to a T. You didn't act out or try to make light of any situations. You were mature when you needed to be and maybe that's where he started to grow soft for you. Ghost was always alone. He liked to work alone.

But once he'd gotten used to you being by his side all of the time, he almost hated it.

You followed him all over base. You ate each meal with him, even had a watch shift with him. You stuck by his side so often people started referring to you as his shadow.

At first, he didn't like it at all. Had even blown up on you for following him around so much which in turn got a taste of a side of you he had never seen.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? You're so bloody annoying. I'm not your fucking dad. Go away." He growled. You stopped in your tracks. Eyes narrowing.

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?" You had asked, which in turn made him roll his eyes at you.

"You're being ridiculous."

"No. I don't think so. Because unless you're giving me orders, you don't talk to me like that."

The hair on his body rose and he swore he'd never been so angry. But even as he stepped closer to you, you stood your ground. "Excuse me?" He asks. "You heard me. I'm not a kid, and you sure as shit aren't going to talk to me like that. I'm keeping you company and maybe I'm not doing that for you. Maybe I'm doing it for me." You step closer to him, his nose nearly touching yours. "And I know you're not my dad. But unless you're trying to meet him, lower your voice when you talk to me."

Your voice was quiet, but steady. Letting him know that you were not playing around.

He found out through Price the next day that your dad had passed away at some point in your childhood.

He'd never run to apologize to someone faster in his life.

From that point on, he'd gone easier on you.

---

It was a mistake.

A simple mistake that he knew he shouldn't have made as a Lieutenant.

You were the first to be infected.

Captain Price had sent the both of you on a mission. Meant to be a simple one of course. He sent his best he said.

You'd gotten a gash on you, but something was on the knife. Your veins started to glow. Pink almost as Ghost had described, which resulted in your eyes to roll back. He barely caught you as you passed out.

He quickly found a room and barricaded you inside. He needed answers.

After ambushing a man and dragging him inside with you, he started asking questions. "What was on the knife?"

"Was it poison?"

"How long does she have?"

But only seemed to get laughs from the man who he had tied up.

"It's not poison." He grits his teeth. Ghost is sure the knife in his leg is what's making him talk at this point.

"It's a drug."

Ghost grits his teeth. "What is it?" He slams him back into the wall. "So help me god if you don't start talking." He growls. Grasping the knife that's still in his leg, going to pull it out. "WAIT!" He yells, stopping Ghost. "It's..." He pauses. Looking down. "It's a reproductive drug."

Ghost looks at him confused. "What?"

"It's meant to increase your sex drive. Your body goes into overdrive." He hisses. "Reproductive organs work twice as hard and the hormones in the drug help induce pregnancy. It's.. still in the works." Ghost looks back at you. Still unconscious.

"What do you mean it's still in the works?" He asks.

"It's deadly in higher doses. It started out as a drug but it made it into the wrong hands and now it's a weapon." He breathes. "So.. she's going to die?" Ghost asks.

"Well.. Technically yes." He sighs. "Unless." He trails off. "Unless what?"

"How long ago was she infected."

Ghost looks down at his watch. "37 minutes ago." He looks at the man. "So.. In about.. 10 minutes. She'll wake up. Her body will feel hot and she'll probably be more aroused than she's ever been. And if you can stimulate her enough.. Her body might come down from it."

"If you can survive that long." The man laughs.

"We're gonna be just fine."

Ghost grabs hold of the knife and draws it back, where he had stabbed into the mans femoral artery starts to spurt blood out and in seconds the man is no longer alive. Ghost knows he needs to clear out the rest of the compound and come back for you.

He sets a timer on his watch and starts possibly the most stressful mission he's ever been on.

He's moving quietly but quickly, taking everyone he crosses by surprise.

But unfortunately, he gets infected.

Knife wound to the arm, just like you. He watches his veins change and knows he doesn't have long.

He doesn't know what to do yet and Ghost hates himself. You shouldn't be here. You're too new.

When everything is clear and he's sure of it. He's rushing back to you.

He pushes the desk away from the door and gets back inside, barricading it from the inside. "Ghost? What's going on?" You ask. He feels sick to his stomach. He sighs as he turns around, nervous to face you again. "I... I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes. "What?"

"Your wound.. It's infected with a drug."

"Please tell me you aren't gonna say sex drug?" You breathe. Making him narrow your eyes. "I must've heard him in my sleep." You nod to the man who's leaning over now. Ghost kneels down next to you. "I'm sorry Y/N. I never should've let you come here with me." He sighs.

"That wasn't your decision Ghost. It's not your fault."

He shakes his head. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."

"Are you infected too?" You ask.

He nods his head. You sit up. "I think you know what we have to do Ghost." You look at him. Your face is deathly still. Letting him know just how serious you are.

"No. Absolutely not Y/N." He shakes his head. Standing up. He starts to pace the room. He's scared. "You'd rather die?" You ask. "No. No of course not. I just... Y/N. I can't do that to you." He shakes his head.

Ghost knows that you trust him. He trusts you too. You even opened up to him about how you were still a virgin because you'd only been in one serious relationship.

That one person who abused you and hurt you in ways that Ghost could kill for. Ghost never looked at you like this and he hates that this is his only choice. "I can't do that to you. I'm not gonna hurt you like you've been hurt. You deserve way better than this Y/N." Ghost feels like he's got an open wound in his chest at the thought of forcing you into something like this. He hates himself for allowing Captain Price to send you along on this mission with him. He didn't want to take you down with him like this. Before he realizes it, you're standing right in front of him. His racing heart steadies in his chest as you reach for his hand.

"Ghost. If we don't..." You trail off, looking down at the ground before taking a deep breath and raising your eyes up to look at him. "If we don't do something, we're going to die. You heard what he said. You and I both saw it. Saw the paperwork, the smoke bombs. This... it'll kill us if we don't." You look up at him. "And.. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die like this." You laugh.

"I can't do this to you Y/N." He hisses, clenching his eyes closed. "Come on, lets go somewhere without. You know." You glance toward the man slumped over at the other side of the room. Grasping his hand and dragging him into another room down the hall, conveniently, one with a bed. He sighs. "Sit down." You force him back onto the edge of the made bed. Luckily this was an upkept building. You take his hands in yours, moving between his legs, feeling him stiffen up immediately. "I trust you, Ghost."

He goes to speak up, but you stop him.

"You are honestly my best friend, and I know you probably don't see it the same way I do. But I trust you. You've shown me so much. Taught me so much. You protect me and you always put me first. I trust you to do this Ghost."

He clenches his eyes closed again. "I am your friend Y/N, of course I am. But.. I'm so much older than you. I thought you looked at me like a father figure, not like this."

A hiss leaves your lips, and Ghost can Physically see your veins turning pink under your skin. It seems unreal. Like something out of a movie. He knows if anything is going to happen, it has to happen now.

"Are you okay?" He asks. "Yeah, yes." You take in a deep breath. Knees feeling weak. "It's... Intense." You breathe. He grasps your hips, sitting you down next to him. "Fuck.. Lay back okay? It's gonna be alright." He breathes. "He.. He said stimulate. He didn't say sex." He breathes. Seeing you nod your head.

He helps you remove your cargo pants. Pushing you further up the bed. He swallows hard. He wants to curse himself, feeling himself get more aroused at the sight of you. It's just he drugs, yeah.

Just the drugs.

He lowers himself into you. Wrapping his arms around your thighs. "I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes.

His tongue dipping into you has you gasping out, clutching at the sheets. His eyes feel heavy as you react to him. You taste sweet and he wants to savor it. He wants to ask for forgiveness and take even more. It's just he drugs. It's just the drugs.

Your back arches and you cry out. Tears streaming down your face. It's just not enough.

"Ghost." You sob, making him look up at you.

"It's not enough."

Any of your veins that were visible under your skin are no longer blue in color, but pink. Your skin is beat red and hot. He grits his teeth as he reaches for his waistband. Once he'd gotten himself free, pants down at his mid thigh, there's no going back now.

He moves himself over you, taking a deep breath. He presses his forehead to yours. "I'm so sorry."

Feeling him penetrate you, piercing into you. You can't help but cry out. He grits his teeth, eyes clenched shut tight. He loves this and he hates this. This isn't how he would've wanted this to happen. He rocks his hips into you, body swallowing him up so perfectly. He forces you to look at him, pushing your hair out of your face. You're sweaty and it's sticking to you. "Are you okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yes, yes." You whine. You're out of breath. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asks. "No, please." You claw at him. "Don't stop." You're nearly sobbing when you say it.

"Harder." You whine. "Y/N.. I'm gonna hurt you."

"Ghost." You grasp his face, forcing his mask off. You're surprised when he lets you. "You're not going to hurt me. I don't want you to be sorry." You breathe. "I want this, I've wanted this. And it's not the goddamn drugs talking." You breathe, staring him in the eyes as you say it. It's like a pin dropping in a silent room when those words leave your lips.

"What?" He asks.

"I've felt this way for a long time. Thought about it all the time. How you treat me so well and protect me. How you always come to my defense, you care about me."

"I do, I do care about you Y/N. But I'm no good for you." He grits his teeth, eyes filling with tears as he rocks into you harder. "That's bullshit and you know it." You claw at the sheets, tilting your head back as he drives himself into you harder. "I wanted you to. Wanted you to be the one to take it- I was going to ask when this mission was over."

You're choked up.

"I love you, Simon."

He loses it, chest tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he doesn't want you to see. Burying his face into the crook of your neck. You using his name, his real name. It's raw.

"Goddamnit I love you too." He sobs, drawing his hips back and burying himself inside of you again. Biting down on your neck. You look up at the ceiling, feeling his weight on you. Everything finally starts to sink in. Tears spill over the corners of your eyes as he works you to a high you're sure you'll never come down from. You clench your eyes closed once more, allowing yourself to feel everything. His pants and sobs in your ear, knowing that he feels this way too. They're getting unsteady and you know by how sloppy his thrusts are getting that he's getting close.

Feeling him, every inch of him. Sliding inside of you, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of pure bliss.

You're gone when he mumbles into your ear.

"I love you Y/N."

You cry out, the sounds leave your lips uncontrollably. He lowers his hand, rubbing circles over your clit. Pushing you through your high. The first time you've ever cum at the hands of someone else. He groans out, drawing away. He stares down at you. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyes are still watery. "I love you Simon, I trust you." You cup his cheeks with your hands again. "Give yourself to me." His body shakes as he reaches his high. Groaning out. He rests his forehead on your chest, trying to calm himself down. Relishing in the pleasure he feels. He knows he needs to calm down now, he's too worked up still. His heart pounds in his chest, but as he relaxes into you, it settles. He stays like that for a while. Calming himself down. When he finally pulls away, sliding out of you. He lies next to you. Pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. It's silent for a while, but he finally breaks the silence. "I'm so sorry Y/N." He breathes. Hearing you laugh lightly. "Simon..." you trail off. "Why do you keep saying that? What do you have to be sorry for?" You look up at him, eyes piercing his. "Because you deserved so much better than this." He breathes. "Yeah? Like what? An uncomfortable barracks bed?" Your lips raise in a smile and he laughs. "You're such a brat." His chest shakes as he laughs. "It's my best quality, thank you very much." You sit up, climbing over him. Straddling his hips. "I wouldn't have wanted this to go any different. Listen." You tilt your head back. "Hm?" He asks. "Nothing but silence." Your eyes flutter closed and he breathes out, resting his hands on your thighs. Thumb gliding up the inside. "Did I hurt you?" He asks. You shake your head. "No. Not even a little." You breathe, laying your head on his chest. He covers you with a blanket. Wrapping his arms around you and holding you right. "Simon?" You mumble. "Yeah darling?" He asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

"I want to be with you."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm serious. I want everything with you. I want the good days. The bad ones too. I want a life with you, and it's okay if you don't want that with me. But I think you should know." You sigh, relaxing into him. You're completely relaxed. You're always relaxed even in dangerous situations with him. He keeps you safe. "We'll talk more about it when we're out of here.. okay?" He trails off. You nod your head against him.

—

The fire reflects in your eyes, they're glossy. Simon stands next to you. Arms crossed over his chest. His mask is on again, but pulled down around his neck.

The building is nothing but burning flames now. Everything that happened inside is a memory now. It's gone. "It's pretty huh?" You turn to look at him. He laughs. "Yeah, it is." He smiles. "You think it'll be all gone? The drug and everything inside?" You ask. He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you into him. "I'd like to hope so. But.. I don't think this is our last time crossing paths with this." He looks back at the flames. The warmth on your skin feels nice. "Let's get to exfil, yeah?" He looks down at you. "Wait-" you stop him as he goes to walk off. "Simon?" You ask. He turns his head to you. Taking him off guard by pressing your lips to his. He's frozen for a second, but relaxes into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You cup his face again.

When you pull away, you grasp his balaclava. Raising it over his nose once more. "Let's get out of here." You smile. He grasps your hand, pulling you along with him. Picking up all of your gear and returning it to where it belongs.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 smut #captain john price #soap mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #alejandro mw2

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diejager · 1 month

Note

Something crazy lol

How would the monster 141 guys react to hunter sneezing so hard their nose starts bleeding? cold is crazy where I am that this just happened

Cw: weird medical thing, blood, bloody nose, tell me if I missed any.

You caught a fever on the last mission, having to treck through the cold, rural regions of Finland, your bodies victim to the biting frost and staying in an abandoned bunker turned safe house for a few days resulted with that. As a medic - the medic of the Task Force - you knew what to do and what not to do, it was implemented in your training to rid of a cold or small sickness as quick as possible for a weakened body. They naturally flock you like worried mothers once you’re back on base, whenever someone was free, they’d tail you around the base, helping you with things if you had trouble with it because of your runny nose and dazed mind. They became your shadows, a perpetual shape following you from behind or the side.

It was expected from you to help even when you were sick, wearing a mask around people, taking care to avoid infecting others with your strand, and eating farther from your team or in the safety of your room where you wouldn’t worry about sharing the contagion while you ate. You took your medications on a regular schedule, a pill of ibuprofen for the aches, your pounding head, your throbbing joints and general soreness, and acetaminophen for your growing fever. You estimated, from prior experience, that your fever would break a week or two in when you took care to drink water, ate correctly, took your meds and slept regularly, but it persisted. Your fever was like a pest, consistent and stubbornly staying in your system.

It got to the point that your nose became much too irritated, sensitive to the slightest touch or whenever you sneezed again and again. Your nose pained you with everything you did, and after one too many sneeze, something ruptured. You splattered blood on the inside of your mask after a painful sneeze, a raspy cough following it and a flurry of panic from them. Throwing away any caution and self-consideration for their health to hurry to your side, worried hands pawing at you and whispering their concerns at your sudden bloody nose.

If they were worried about you before, now they were extremely concerned. Price had you confined to your room, tied down to your bed and left under watch with at least one man by your side, and they ignored every little complaints and huffs you threw at them. Ghost and Horangi had to manhandle you to your bed, laying your head on the soft pillow Alejandro and Rudy went on a hunt for and covering - wrapping you in with how much you struggled against them - you with a thick and warm blanket that Gaz went to the trouble of buying on a sudden whim.

The sergeants had more time on hand, rerouting to your room so often that they lived with you, entertaining you when you grew bored from reading novels and watching a série or documentary on your tablet. They made you laugh and made your moments less depressing. Ghost and the colonels had less time to visit, but they came whenever they could, always bringing a plate of sweets or a snack to fix your occasional hunger; Ghost with his chip bag, König with his pastry, and Alejandro with his spiced food. Price was the busiest man of the team, glued to his desk and old and used chair, signing paperwork and having to think of a temporary replacement for you, but he still had time to pass at night or after he ate, bringing you a plate from the mess hall.

You hated being sick, it went against all you stood for and it ultimately made your Task Force worry and fuss about you.

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monzabee · 9 months

Text

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff

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dmitriene · 3 months

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON WITH CLINGY GF.

cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, clingy behavior, intimacy, mentions of sex, many cuddles, established relationship pairing: bf simon riley x gf fem reader

authors note: just something little and silly before the fic i will post in the weekends

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon was literally perfect for cuddling with, a wide body chiseled by army training, countless missions and his complex past, voluminous biceps and broad shoulders, toned and slightly hard muscles that became more than limp with time, age, and your comfort.

the muscles of his abdomen became softer and softer each time and even had a little fat on them, not like something bad, on the contrary, it was one of the most comfortable pillows in the world, quite often you lay on his stomach while resting, noticing how periodically he tensed and his muscles became harder under you before relaxing, his wide fingers tangled in your hair.

hugs with him were pleasant, as if being in the paws of a bear — pressing into his round, vast chest, causing him some embarrassment and hoarse coughs, but one way or another he would still circle you with his hands, squeezing carefully, as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt you, pressing himself into the top of your head, gently and hoarsely muttering, allowing you to feel how his chest rumbles — «feeling comfy, love?»

the answer is always the same, — «mhm, yeah», whenever the question is asked and at what time, you felt more than comfortable around him, literally sticking to him, your hands were always on him — hugging, feeling, stroking his tense muscles before starting to massage them, tracing his scars on his naked torso when you lay together in bed or washed, allowing you to look at the scattering of different types of traces of his past and outline each one, linking your fingers with them like constellations.

simon loved your behavior, oh, he more than adored the feeling of how you clinged to him and hugged him — his muscles went limp and any worries literally evaporated as soon as you touched him in an affectionate, gentle manner, as if your whole being was focused on him, to him, it's seems that you touch him like a fragile figurine, because most of the touches he has experienced are rough handshakes, slaps on the back or shoulder, the barrel of a gun near his temple.

you were the epicenter of his love and tenderness, when you first started dating and he contacted you, simon was ready to swear that every word of love and touch brought him almost to tears, something inside him was constantly tingling and responding, screaming, like an inner child — no matter how hardened a soldier is, there is a fragility hidden within him, masked and covered by roughness, and simon more than deserved to open up and allow himself to feel, cry, love, and laugh.

moving on from the sad, most of your time was spent in the bedroom — not counting the typical activities after which the neighbors complained about the noise, and the sheets needed to be changed from wet spots, and not to mention your wobbly legs and bucking knees, as well as a slight burning between your legs from how his tongue, fingers, and girthy cock spent a lot of time in your aching cunt.

you often lay in an embrace just relaxing, be it regular days or the days after he returned from deployment, or while watching tv whose position in the bedroom was quite comfortable, you had freedom of action both to watch your favorite programs and to snuggle up to his muscular, voluminous thigh — pressing your cheek into hardened softness and wrapping two arms around him, squeezing his leg until simon practically fell asleep, leaning on the headboard and soft pillows, lazily combing through your hair and stroking your head, your ear and your cheek, relishing in softness, mumbling somehow thoughtfully and sleepily — «you're so soft, lovie, bloody squishy toy»

a loud giggle escapes your lips at his words as you nuzzle into his thigh before lifting yourself up and crawling towards his arm as he lifts it for you, allowing you to position yourself so that he can wrap his arms around you, burying your face in the softness of his chest, while you whisper — «mm, you're soft too, si»

he frowns slightly, grumbles a little tiredly before squeezing you tighter, completely relaxed while crumpling your body in his arms over your clothes, content with the softness under his rough fingers before muttering — «'m not»

— «you are, you're soft, i can cuddle with you like if hugging a bea — ah!» you don’t have time to finish your sentence, pressing into his chest and looking at his closed eyes with fluttering light eyelashes when he pinches you over your clothes, it still hurts a little, though, before he is patting this place as if in pity when you let out a squeak and a whimper, but actually forgetting about the pain immediately when he scoops you even closer to his body and commands a little sternly, using his lieutenant tone — «shush it, be good and lay obediently, eh?»

and who in their right mind would refuse such, roughly speaking, request?

no one, so you calmly relax, and, finding yourself literally squished in his arms, you allow your eyelids to become heavy for a brief moment and fall asleep with him, burying yourself in the top of his hair while he fidgeted slightly against the softness of your chest with a relaxed sigh and quiet snoring, limp next to you and squeezing his arms around your waist like a lock, surrendering to a short moment of sleep and the comfort of your presence nearby, even if your hands periodically squeeze his chest area, just by accident.

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azriels-shadowsinger · 2 months

Note

you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺

“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.

prompt list

You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.

After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.

“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.

“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.

“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.

“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.

“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.

“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.

“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.

———

You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.

Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.

Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.

You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.

“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.

“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.

Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.

A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.

“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.

“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.

Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.

The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.

“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.

“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.

———

It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.

You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.

“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.

“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.

“You came in after me?” He barks.

“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.

“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.

“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?

“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.

“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.

“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.

“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.

“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.

“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.

“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.

“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.

“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.

“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.

“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.

“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”

“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.

“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.

It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.

———

Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.

“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.

prompt list

tag list: @fxckmiup

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #my writing #azriel x reader #acotar x reader

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mj0702 · 4 months

Text

The other Bronze - Part One

Here we go again 🤣 Thank you (as always) to Crush and Bubs

(the bad Spanish is courtesy of Google and if you find typos or anything please point them out to me 😉)

Y/n POV

You finally walked the last steps towards the door of your Sisters small house at the Outskirts of Barcelona. What you're doing in Barca on a random Friday Night? You wanted to surprise Lucy for her Birthday. It took a lot of begging to Mum and Dad to let you fly all on your own from Manchester to Barcelona and when you turned your phone on after landing, you had 26 missed calls and 15 messages already, the last one from your older Brother Jorge telling you to text him if the Plane crashed and you died – real Clown that one. You phoned Mum, telling her that the Flight was just a little delayed and that your still very much alive and not Shark food in the Ocean. You knew Lucy had training, so you stayed a little longer at the Airport, watching people, drinking Coffee. You found some nice company in a Girl, who waited for her Girlfriend and surprisingly spoke English. So know you're currently walking up the steps towards Lucy's front door, her spare key (which you got from Mum, in case Lucy wasn't home), my Earplugs blasting Music and you opened the door – boy what a mistake.

„Luuuucccyyyy!! Happy Birth... OH MY GOD MY EYES!!! OH EW!!“ you started to yell out in horror before spotting my Sister on her Couch. Naked. With another Girl on her knees in front of her, her head buried between your Sisters legs. You turned around as quick as you could, shutting the Door behind you. A few minutes later, some shuffling and swearing from the inside, said door got ripped open again.

„What are you doing here?“ Lucy asked you and you couldn't tell if she was pissed off or just annoyed.

„Surprise??“ you say, your back still facing her.

„Why do you have a Key to my Apartment? You can turn around by the way“ she sounded annoyed, which was good – annoyed is better than pissed off.

„Mum... I just saw things I never wanted to see ever“ you shrugged like it was self-explanatory. „Dear bloody Jesus“ your Sister huffed out, before grabbing your Arm, starting to pull you inside, as you tried to stop her by holding on to the Door frame

„I'm NOT going back in there again“ you say, gagging for good measure.

„Stop being difficult“ Lucy said, putting her arm around your Shoulders instead, having more leverage. Back inside you were sat down at the Kitchen table, the Girl from earlier just making some Coffee.

„I hope you sanitized that Table“ you mumbled, before looking at your Sister „No way you haven't fu...“

„If you finish that Sentence, I'll call Mum telling her that you broke that ugly Vase at Christmas three years ago“ Lucy narrowed her eyes at you, before turning to the Girl „Ona... this is my overly annoying baby Sister y/n... devils spawn... this is Ona, my Girlfriend“

You just looked at the Girl with a blank face nor knowing how to react to these news.

„Manners“ Lucy growled at you and slapped the back of your Head

„Hola“ you said to Ona, not really knowing what to think of her.

„Hola“ Ona smiled back, putting a cup of Coffee in front of you, which Lucy took away the instant it touched the Table „No hay café para ella“ she said to Ona, while ignoring your frustrated „Oi!!“.

„Por qué?“ the dark haired woman asked.

„Look at her.... she's already a pest, I don't need her caffeinated up“ Lucy answered, finally in English, while pointing at you.

„Aye you Arsepiece“ you huffed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

„You're English, not Scottish, ya wee shite“ your Sister grinned at you, but finally came over, ruffling you Hair, which is Lucy language for „I love you“.

“I was born in Scotland therefore I’m Scottish” you grumble out.

„I don't understand a word you two say“ Ona said confused, her spanish accent thick as she speaks english and Lucy laughed out loud

„All good...“. She then looks at you again „But seriously... what are you doing here?“.

„Wanted to surprise you for your Birthday... haven't seen you since the Euros“ you mumble a little embarrassed

„You... missed me“ Lucy smirked

„No... how could I miss your annoying Ass?“ you answered quickly and she KNEW she hit a nerve

„I missed you too, Devils Spawn“ she said, pulling you into a side hug

„You never told me you had a younger Sister, Lucia“ Ona said, smiling slightly at our interaction

You just raise an eyebrow at Lucy „Lucia? What have you done to fuck up so badly, that she uses your actual name?“

„Lucia is more common here, you daft punk...“ Lucy rolled her eyes at you still holding you to her side before answering her Girlfriend „I try to keep her away from the Spotlight“

„Oh...“ Ona said, like she understands, which you doubted „I'll leave you two to catch up, I'm going to go...“ she smiled

„Weren't you about to come a little while ago?“ you blurted out, which earned you a very hard punch to the shoulder courtesy of your lovely Sister

Ona just look confused, which causes you to laugh „You can explain that one, Kneeless... Bathroom that way?“.

As you renter the Kitchen, you see Lucy and Ona kissing in the Doorway. You comment it with a loud dry heaving sound. Lucy blindly throws a shoe at you, which misses by miles and you snap a photo of her. You can only see Lucys back and Onas Hands around her Neck, so it's obvious that there's someone else, but you can't see who. You sit back down at the Table, your Stomach starting to growl and you realize just how late it is. You shot up and run up to Lucy, grabbing her shirt, pulling hard successfully ending the make out session

„You have to phone Mum that I'm here, otherwise she'll send a search party and I'm already dead, because I didn't text her that I arrived safely“ you stumble over your words, because nothing is more scary than Mum Bronze in Mum Mode. Lucy rolled her eyes, pecking Onas lips again for a final goodbye, before pushing you back into the Apartment again

„You realize what I just gave up for you?“

„Multiple Orgasms, I know... I don't want to know, but I know... can I post a picture, saying I'm with you?“ you murmur the end of your question, knowing Lucy is very picky with private Pictures and even more, when you're involved

„Let me first call Mum, then let me check the Picture, then we decide what we get for dinner, okay?“ she pressed a Kiss to your temple, already her Phone in Hand, dailing Home.

She was on the Phone to Mum forever, apologizing telling her she was so happy to see you that we forgot to call her. Straight A+ lie, but if someone can pull it off, it's Lucy

„You owe me, Smol“ she said after ending the Call „Now show me that picture, so I can say No and we can go finding food, since my fridge is empty and I planned on eating something else tonight“ she grinned, as you start to dry heave again.

„Please... i REALLY don't want to think about it“ you say pained

Lucy laughed out loudly and you smiled. You really missed her.

„Show me the Picture“ she said, encouraging you, a smile playing around her lips, as you show her.

„That's a good one“ Lucy said after a minute of looking at it closely handing you the phone back „You can use that one... Just don't tag Ona please“

„I don't even know who she is“ you said looking apologetic „but I think she's nice“

Your Sister laughed again „She is... haven't felt like this since Keira“

„Why did you and Keira split up? I really liked her“ you said and Lucy looked at you for a second, really looked at YOU before answering

„We just fell out of Love... nobodies fault... it just happened and it wasn't fair to either of us to keep pretending“ Lucy said carefully, yet seriously, knowing that Topic was difficult for you

„As cliche as it sounds, but we're still friends and I know, Keira will be over the Moon seeing you again“. Truth is, when Lucy and Keira split up you refused to talk to your Sister for weeks, not grabbing fully why she would leave Keira. Keira who was a mixture between a big Sister and a Mother to you. Keira, who made you laugh, when you where sad. Keira, who carried you to bed, when you fell asleep during a Movie. Keira, who held you when you came crying into Lucys Bedroom, just woken up from a Nightmare. In the End, you was just too young to grab fully what was happening. Maybe not too young but you couldn’t understand the feelings behind it.

„Was it my fault?“ you whispered, always the nagging feeling at the back of your Head, that it was your fault they split up.

„What?“ Lucy asked confused „No... of course not! Y/n listen to me... it had NOTHING to do with you“

„But if I would have acted more grown up and not come running nearly every night..“ you stared and Lucy immediately knew what it was about

„Y/n... it had nothing to do with that... nothing! You went through something traumatic and we were honestly glad you trusted us enough to come to us or let us calm you down when you had a nightmare“ she said insistently, holding your look „You had nothing to do with what happened between Keira and I, do you understand me?“

„I just... I feel like it's my fault“ you look down, playing with your fingers

„It's not... and if you don't believe me, you can ask Keira...“ Lucy said, grabbing your Hands in hers, holding them tightly „It just happened“

You let her pull you into a hug and for the first time in a long time you felt safe and home.

„Thanks Luce“ you mumbled against her shoulder

„Always ya wee shite“ she said and you felt her smiling into your Hair.

Yes, even at 16 years old, Lucy is a whole Head bigger than you were. Your stomach growled again and Lucy laughed „What do you want to eat, I'll order“

„I'm in Spain... obviously I want Fish and Chips, Idiot... I want authentic spanish food“ you said sarcastically

„Smartass“ she rolled her eyes „We could also go out, whatever you want“

„It's YOUR Birthday... why do I have to choose? “ you said, honestly confused

„I was trying to be nice... I know a small little Restaurant, not too far from here“ she grinned at you

„Do I have to change for it?“ you asked, looking down at your button down shirt, ripped jeans and the baby blue chucks

„Other shoes and you're good to go“ Lucy said as she threw a pair of NIKEs your way „I'll just go change, don't do anything stupid“ she pointed her finger threatenly at you

„Never, my beloved Sister“ you say sarcastically.

While Lucy is changing, you decided against posting the picture of Lucy and Ona kissing online. You know your Sister values her privacy and even she gave you the ok, it didn't feel right – but that doesn't mean you couldn't send it to someone else... Keira.

Y/n: ~ inserts picture ~ It finally happened Kei... I walked in on her... thankfully I haven't eaten today, otherwise Lucy would have to clean that up too

Keira: You're in Barcelona, Bitsy?! Why didn't you tell me?

Y/n: Sure am... wish I wasn't tho... ehm... surprise?

Keira: I hope you didn't plan to fuck off without saying hi... and don't kid yourself, Bitsy... that definitely wasn't the first time you walked in on your Sister ;)

Y/n: of fucking course not... and how would you know that, Ms. Walsh?

Keira: Because I was there :p

After you read Keiras last Text, you threw your Phone to the other End of the Couch with a loud „EW!!“.

Lucy came running from the Bedroom, looking at you shocked „What happened?? Are you okay?“. „I walked in on you and Keira???“ you cried out in agony.

„What?“ Lucy looked at you confused. You showed her your Phone, which caused her to laugh – full on belly laugh „Oh yeah... I forgot about that“ Lucy laughed.

„I WALKED IN ON YOU AND KEIRA???“ you screeched horrified.

„Yep... multiple times actually“ Lucy grinned.

„Oh god... I think I need to throw up? When... wait no... don't answer that“

Your Sister laughed again, throwing a coat towards you, silently telling you that you were leaving. „Is it okay, if I invite some people?“ she asked you, as you leave the Apartment.

„It's your Birthday, Luce – you can invite whoever you want“ you shrugged your Shoulders. „Whomever“ Lucy corrected you automaticly, before she pulled out her phone and send some texts. „Smartass“ you mumble as your Sister put her Arm around your Shoulders, manoeuvring you through the City.

Just as you rounded a corner into a small side road, someone shoulder checked you, turning around, yelling something in spanish at you. You looked at the guy confused, feeling Lucy going into protective Mode, making herself bigger by your Side. Before she could say anything, you looked at the Guy, yelling at him „Cállate la Boca, matildo hijo de puta!“

Your Sister looked shocked at you as does the Guy. You put on your best Bronze-Fightingface, before making a step towards him. Just as the Guy made up his mind and also took a step towards you, a Woman pushed right in between you two oozing confidence and started talking calmly to the Guy. She was pretty but damn – she was intimidating. The Guy talked back twice, before turning around, leaving the little alley

„What the Hell, Y/n??“ Lucy yelled at you „What the hell did you say to that guy? I understood ONE word and know it wasn't a compliment – and since when do you speak spanish?“

She then turned to the Woman „Hola Alexia... Gracias por interferir“

„Ningún problema“ the woman smiled at my Sister

„And you“ she turned to you „Where did you learn that?“

And there was that intimidating look again, which made you gulp. You grew up with Lucy Bronze, but this woman scared you. You pushed yourself behind your Sister, trying to hide

„Answer her“ Lucy pulled you out from behind her.

You just shook your Head and mumbled „She scares me Luce“

„Good“ your Sister mumbled „now answer her“

You shook your Head again. The woman looked at you and smiled slightly

„Excuse me. Hi, my name is Alexia, I'm a teammate and friend of your Sister“

You're still careful, not to stand to close to her „Hi... Y/n... I'm.. the Sister of my Sister“

This actually made her laugh, while Lucy groaned and started to rub her forehead embarrassed

„So... now that we know each other, where did you learn to offend spanish people? As much as I gathered, you don't speak spanish..“ Alexia said and immediately she got all scary again

„I... no... yes?“ You looked at her and tried to hide behind Lucy again, who groaned again. „Cariño.... my patience is wearing quite thin... you better start talking” Alexia said sweetly, but you knew it was a fair warning

“A girl at the Airport taught me... I just tried to order a coffee, which is SO hard in your country and the Barista didn't understand me and she kinda took over and ordered for me... as a thank you, I paid for hers... and we sat together as she waited for her Girlfriend and since we had time, she taught me some spanish” you stutter out

“Do you even know what you just said?” Alexia looked at you shocked

“ehrm... no... but the girl said I have to put on a Bitchface after saying it... she was cool...”

“Y/n... you just can't throw around spanish phrases, because SOMEONE told you” Lucy pressed.

“She look trustworthy” you defended yourself

“Cariño...” Alexia said softly “... don't EVER say that again, because you will get hurt in the process”

“Is it bad?” you ask unsure

“It is...” the Spanish woman said “... and if I ever find that Girl, that taught you, I will have a VERY serious talk with her... in spanish” she winked at you

“What are the Odds” you mumbled and Lucy looked at you

“What odds?” she asked you confused

“That girl just turned around the Corner” you said, pointing at a Girl, laughing loudly with some other girls

“I should have known” Alexia groaned out “María Pilar León Cebrián!!! Nosotras necesitamos hablar!!!” she yelled out

The Girl in questions Head snapped towards Alexias angry Voice, her laughter dying in her throat. She made eye contact with you, her eyes went comically wide and you could swear, you saw her mouthing the word “Fuck”, before slowly starting to walk backwards

“Oh please do” Alexia sneered, while walking towards Maria “Please start running, so I can chase after you because after I caught you, I'm gonna drag your sorry Ass up to Nuo and let you run Laps until Training is over and then some more...”

You turned towards your Sister “Isn't Nuo Egg?” you ask confused

“Huevo is Egg.. Nuo is the Stadium where we train and play” Lucy explained

“Ah... and why is Alexia calling me Cariño ... is that some weird spanish name?” you said, still confused

This Time Lucy laughed out loud, while Alexia is “actively” having a word with Maria – she was outright yelling at the poor Girl. You actually did feel sorry for her. Maria looked very guilty, trying to explain, but not getting a word in.

“Cariño is a form of endearment... something like Honey”

“Excuse me?? She could have at least taken me out on a Date first” you huffed, but smiled.

“Are you causing trouble already?” a voice behind you said amused. You turned around and sprinted off, throwing yourself in the Womans arms.

“I missed you, Keira” you mumbled into her neck, while she's hugging you tightly

“I missed you too, Bitsy” she kissed your Hair, not breaking the contact

You felt safe in her arms. Lucy came over after getting over her initial shock of you just sprinting off

“For once, it wasn't her causing the Trouble... it was Mapí” Lucy said, nodding towards a still yelling Alexia with her head

“What a surprise – Mapí causing trouble... these two would absolutely cause havoc” Keira laughed, not letting go of you

“Take a guess, why Mapí is getting yelled at... they have met already” your Sister grinned

“Oh god” Keira groaned laughing “What has Mapí done?”

“She taught me spanish” you said proudly

“What did she teach...” the other english woman started before getting interrupted by Lucy “Don't!!!! Don't ask!”

Keira was a little taken aback, but didn't ask any further

“She taught me a phrase... apparently it's a bad one and I'm not allowed to say it again, otherwise the scary Woman will have my Ass” you said, still pressed into Keiras side

“Scary Woman?” Keira raised an eyebrow at Lucy

“Alexia” your Sister answered shrugging her shoulders

“Mapí would like to say something” said Woman stood behind you three, her hand grabbing the back of Marias neck, who looked like a kicked puppy

“Lamento mucho haberte enseñado algo malo” the smaller Woman mumbled, clearly not happy or comfortable with the situation

“En Inglés” Alexia rolled her eyes “As you maybe remember, little Bronze doesn't speak spanish”. “Su hermana lo hace - ella puede traducir” Maria said

“Maria” Alexia warned “Deja de ser difícil y discúlpate correctamente”

“I'm sorry for teaching you bad spanish” the younger woman huffed out annoyed

“It's...” you started, before Alexia interrupted you “And now we try to say that, like we really mean it” she said to Mapí, grabbing her neck a little tighter

“I'm sorry” the younger girl winced

“Very good” Alexia smiled, but everyone saw it was fake, before getting a stern face again “You still will run laps tomorrow”

“What??? I apologized” Mapí said shocked

“Still doesn't change the fact, that you nearly caused a fight – if I hadn't stepped in, she most like would have end up in the Hospital with a broken nose... or worse” Alexia said

“Oi!” you yelled out “I may be small, but I can hold myself, thank you very much”

“We” Alexia looked at you sternly “Will talk tomorrow”

You gulped again, making yourself smaller at Keiras side, who had watched the whole interaction with an amused grin on her face.

“Can we get food now?” you whispered into Keiras side

The Midfielder laughed loudly “Let's go” she said as she pulled you into the small Restaurant, everyone following you. You sat between Lucy and Alexia, Mapí to Alexias right, next to her her Girlfriend Ingrid, Keira was to Lucys left with one seat free in between them for when Ona would join.

“What's edible here?” you ask to no one particular, studying your menu.

“Should I order for you, Cariño?” Alexia ask, wanting to make you feel welcome and comfortable “If this is you aassuming that this is a date, then no...” you say distracted, still try to figure out the menu.

Alexia was taken aback, while your Sister laughed.

“But what is... potatoes braves?” you asked, looking up confused.

Mapí clutched her heart dramatically “My heart... my Heart burns... I think I have a heart attack.. is this what a heart attack feels? My poor Heart”

“What is her deal?” you asked your Sister, who already had tears in her eyes from laughing

“You just absolutely BUTCHERED her language and food” Keira said, her tone dry as usual still looking over the menu.

“But it says there...” you climbed on top of Lucy, your Knee pressing into her thigh, causing her to groan out in pain, to show Keira on the Menu “Potatoes braves... or something like that”

“Patatas Bravas” Keira corrected you “It is potatoes, but it's not called Potatoes and definitely not Braves..”

“Look at you, all fancy spanishing” you rolled your eyes at her, but she knew you didn't mean it.

“Could you please finally get off me?” Lucy groaned out, pushing you back on your chair “When did you get so heavy?”

“Are you calling me fat, Arse biscuits??” you challenged her by raising an eyebrow

“What if I do, Twat McFuckknuckle?” Lucy taking your bait, raising her eyebrow as well

“Stop it! Both of you, we have company AND in public” Keira said sharply, successfully interrupting your interaction “God the two of you – always trouble”

You kicked Lucys ankle lightly under the Table, she shoving you, pushing you successfully into Alexia.

“Sorry... she pushed me” you mumbled out, while shoving Lucy back.

Alexia looked at Keira “Are they always this violent towards each other?”

“Oh this isn't violent – this is actually them behaving” Keira smiled fake, watching you two shoving each other “Just wait till there's food on the Table – THEN it gets violent”.

Just as they were about to order, Ona joined the small Group, pressing a small Kiss to Lucys lips. You watched that interaction with a frown on your face. You cared deeply for Keira and assumed it wasn't easy on her watching her Ex and her new Girlfriend kissing right in front of her. You carefully looked at Keira, but saw her laughing with Ingrid, who changed seats for conversation purposes.

“What's this dark look on your face, Cariño?” Alexia whispered in your ear, unknowing to you, she always had an eye on you.

“Nothing” you said flatly, not wanting to start a scene “I'm just hungry”

It was your Sisters Birthday after all and she looked very happy with Ona.

“Dinner will be served soon, don't worry” the Barca captain said lightly, putting a hand on your bouncing knee.

“Ale?” Mapí asked from Alexias other side.

“Si?” the woman in question looked at her younger Teammate

“Can we swipe seats?” Mapí asked hopefully.

You look at her confused “You want to what?”

“Swipe seats... I take Alexias, she sits in my seat” the young spanish said

“Oh... OH... you mean swap...” you say as you realize what she wants “and they say I butcher a language”

“No” Alexia said sternly “before you ask, you two won't be anywhere unsupervised”

“Oi” you exclaim “I'm very capable of looking after myself”, while Mapí exclaimed something in spanish.

“No idea what she said, but she's right” you say, pointing at Mapí

“Enough” Alexia said sternly, both of you stop complaining immediately.

Keira looked impressed at Alexia, trying to hide her smirk. Lucy was in her own world with Ona, ignoring everything around her. Finally there was Food on the Table and before the Plagrabfor everyone even were placed on the Table, you and Mapí already starting to grab whatever you could reach. Alexia watched in horror, as you two just loading food on your own plates without waiting for the rest “Excuse me? María León... I know for a fact that you have manners and won't just load your plate with food without WAITING for everyone else – especially for the Woman who celebrates her birthday today... isn't that right, María?”

Mapí looked down on her plate guilty, before starting to put the food back.

“I thought so” Alexia said, still a mad undertone in her voice

You on the other Hand didn't care one bit. You grew up in the Bronze household. You snooze, you loose. You threw a little fried something into your mouth, chewing happily. That was until the spiciness kicked in. Your eyes went wide, tears starting to form in your eyes and you started to have problems to breath. As always, you turned to Keira for help, throwing food at her to get her attention.

“Y/n please... I didn't raise you for years so you start throwing food in public” the Woman said, turning to you before realizing what was happening. Once she saw you in your distressed state, she immediately came over, pulling you out of your chair and out of the restaurant. Lucy finally noticed her surroundings, as Keira pulled you outside. She jumped up, following the two of you outside

“What happened?” Lucy asked worried, seeing you having difficulties to breath and tears streaming down your face.

“I don't know. She suddenly started to throw food at me, I actually was about to tell her off, but saw her having problems to breath and got her out” Keira gave Lucy a rundown, while keeping you upright

“It's okay, Bitsy... calm down” Keira started to talk to you in a low, soothing voice “Take a deep breath for me”

You tried to follow her instructions, but with no luck. Lucy finally sprung into action grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at her

“Did you eat something?”

You nod, still trying your hardest to breath.

“Spicy?”

You nod again, thankful that your Sister keeps a cool head.

“You're doing good, Bubs... Do you know what you've eaten?”

You shake your head.

“Okay... we can work with that” Lucy said, a small reassuring smile on her lips, turning to Keira “Could you get something dairy.. milk... yoghurt... whatever”

“Sure” Keira smiled before disparaging inside the Restaurant.

“It's okay, Bubs... it's going to get better soon, I promise – just... don't shovel everything into your gob without asking next time.. these guys here are absolutely unholy when it comes to spicy food”. Just as your Sisters calm voice started to work on your nerves, Keira appeared with a glass of milk AND yoghurt

“Drink Bitsy” she smiled assuringly at you, pushing the glass of milk into your hands.

You took a sip and immediately felt your tight chest loosen up. Greedily you drowned the whole glass, feeling better with every gulp.

“Fuck” was the first word, that left your mouth after you regain your breathing again.

“You okay now, Bubs?” Lucy asked concerned.

“Getting there” you said, leaning forward, your hands on your knees “But I think I need to throw up”

Lucy pulled you upright quickly “Are you serious?”

“Yep” you breathed deeply, your stomach on a wrath for torturing it

“I'm getting you home right now” your Sister said seriously “Spicy is one thing, but your stomach is normally made of steel, that's not normal”

You just groaned

“Stay” Keira said to your Sister “It's your Birthday – I'll take her to my Place and have an eye on her... you stay and enjoy your evening, okay?”

“I can't ask that of you, Kei” Lucy said softly

“You're not asking... I'm offering” Keira smiled softly “If she feels up for it, we can meet for brunch or lately at training”

“Thank you” Lucy whispered, hugging her Ex-Girlfriend before turning to you “You behave... be good for Keira”

You nod before Keira wraps you into a hug, leading you away.

As soon as you're out of earshot and view, Keira let go of you and grinned knowingly “You can stop pretending now...”

You looked at her shocked “How did you know?”

“I was always able to tell... your sister is right, you have a stomach made of steel... your whole face changed after you drank the milk and I knew you're alright again... what I don't know is why you put on a show” the english Woman smirked at you, as she called you out

“Didn't want you to put up with Lucy and her new One being all lovey-dovey all evening... and I didn't want to put up with it either” you mumble caught.

Keira started to laugh loudly “Oh Bitsy... I see that lovey-dovey every day... it's okay for me... Lucy deserves to be happy...”

You looked at Keira and she knew there was more to it.

“What's wrong, Bitsy?” she ask lovingly

“I feel like it's my fault you broke up...” you mumble, having a hard deja-vu

“Oh sweetheart... no it's not... Lucy and I just grew apart. It happens and it's nobodies fault, especially not yours... but there's more, isn't it?” Keira said softly

“I don't like the new one” you mumble out, looking down embarrassed

“Why? Ona is a good person, she's good to and for your Sister”

“She looks like she doesn't even need to shave” you exclaimed.

Keira bursted out laughing “You're one of a kind, Bitsy... trust me... Ona is a good Person and she's good for Lucy... I know you're always struggling with change, but please.. give Ona a chance, she'll surprise you”

“M'kay” you mumble.

You arrived at Keiras Apartment, she let you both in before setting up her guest room for you. You went on exploring Keiras home. You were about to open a cabinet as she called from the guest room “Don't you dare open my Cabinets... I love you but you're a clutz”.

You quickly let go of the handle, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall instead. You spotted one of yourself and Lucy, sound asleep on your Couch in Manchester. You laid on top of Lucy, while she was sprawled out under you, her right arm over your back, holding you safely, her knee carefully placed on some pillows, her glasses askew on her face, your hand fisted in her shirt.

“I love that picture” Keiras voice soft behind you “I came back from training, wondering why she hadn't answered my texts about dinner... I walked in and both of you were softly snoring on the Couch. Your leg was so close to her freshly operated knee, that I was afraid you'd hurt it, if you move and I tried to lift you off her, but both of you started to stir as soon as I moved you. So I just let you sleep – after I took a picture. I think Lucy slept for another hour and you slept for nearly three more hours”

Keiras voice was soft and full of love, that you started crying silently. Another picture showed Lucy and Keira in a park, you asleep in between them. You pointed at the picture, your back still facing her.

“London” Keira said understanding you even without words “Our first anniversary.. She planned this whole Weekend to the brim, with fancy Restaurant, Musical Show, Sightseeing... everything... then your parents got so sick with the flu, that we took you with us... her plans went so fast out the window” Keira laughed quietly “but we improvised and instead of fancy restaurant we did pick-nick in Hyde Park – and I wouldn't change it for the world. You were so done after a day of exploring the city and all of the sights, that you were out like light as soon as you sat down”

You pointed at the next picture, again the three of you.

“You can't remember this one?” she asks you surprised.

“I do” you whisper “but... please”

“Paris” Keira said softly “Third anniversary.. Lucy just joined Lyon and invited me over to France for our anniversary She told me, she has the weekend off and wanted to take me to Paris – I honestly thought she would propose... Somehow you heard Lucy talking to your mum and begged her to let you come as well. It was the first time you two were separated and everyone could see that it was so hard on you. Lucy said as long as I'm okay with it, you could come. I remember you being so over the top with your nerves, that you ran around the Airport like a maniac... I lost you twice” Keira chuckled “and as soon as we started, you were out like a light again. In Paris, I had do carry you off the Plane, because you wouldn't wake up – and I still had to get our luggage AND carry you. It took me forever and Lucy was starting to panic that I bailed until she saw me, packed like a Donkey holding onto your sleeping form, dragging our bags behind me. And what did she do? She first smiled and then laughed – but it was the most beautiful sound in the world to me”

“Do you miss her?” you asked quietly.

“Of course I do” Keira answered honestly.

“Do you still love her?”

“I love her, yes... but I'm not IN love with her” she said.

You finally turned around, hugging her tightly.

“I miss you at home... so much” you mumble into her shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks. Keira held you tightly “Oh sweet girl.. I miss you too – I really do”

You stayed like this for a moment, before your eyes grew heavy and Keira carefully walked the two of you towards the Guest bedroom, not letting go of you. You held onto her for dear life, letting her guide you.

As Keira kicked the door of the Guest room open, you mumble into her shoulder “Don't wanna sleep alone”

The english Woman chuckled lightly “I thought so... I just thought I'd offer, just in case... being a good host and everything”

She guided you towards her own Bedroom and sat you down on the Bed. You already were half asleep and whined tiredly as Keira let go of you. She smiled at your hunched over form

“Hush you... I need to change and get ready for bed – you too by the way”

You whined again “too much effort”

“Come on” Keira pulled at your Shirt “Teeth, Face, Change”

You felt like being Seven all over again.

“Nooooo” you whined out.

“Don't start... I'm not Lucy, I'm not a push-over... seven years of me in your life should have taught you that” Keira said severe.

You huffed heavy-hearted, before pushing off the Bed, shuffling towards the bathroom.

Keira smiled to herself “Still a big baby”.

After both of you went through your nightly Routine, with Keira basically brushing your teeth for you and changed your button down shirt with a normal shirt to sleep in, you made it into bed, where you immediately cuddled into Keiras arms and closed your Eyes. The older Woman kissed the Crown of your Head as she mumbled sweet nothings into the dark room, knowing you'd fall asleep in an instant.

Part 2 follows... at some point 😅

#keira walsh x reader #woso image #lucy bronze x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni

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lassieposting · 3 months

Text

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

#bg3 #durge #astarion ancunin #durgestarion #bhaal #i just think it would be really funny if bhaal played himself trying to get rid of gortash by setting durge up with astarion #and completely underestimating the power of falling deeply in love and astarion's sad wet cat eyes

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for letting my dog correct (nip) my niece to prove a point and refusing to punish him?

I own an ex-K9 called Biggles. Biggles is impeccably trained, a total gentleman when you're not being an asshole to him, but also has no time for your bullshit. He'll tolerate a lot more hassle from the younger kids in our family, but if they're allowed to persist in bullying him, he will correct them, just like he would the adults of the family.

Mostly Biggles will just push them over and walk away. Its his way of saying to leave him alone. Sometimes he'll bark loudly, a kind of 'fuck off now' bark. At the very extreme, he'll give them a tiny little warning nip on the arm or hand.

(Biggles has only ever nip corrected kids twice in all the years I've had him. Once when my cousin thought it was 'cute' to dump her toddler right on top of Biggles and let him rip at his fur and try to bite at his face, and once when my nephew was having a tantrum, Biggles tried to snuggle up to him to soothe him and my nephew hit him in the face.)

I firmly believe in learning how your pet communicates and respecting their reasonable boundaries. To me, if you're yanking on a dog's tail and ignoring everyone warning you to stop and you get a nip to the back of the hand for it, that's a valid consequence of your actions and you've just learned to respect the dog enough not to try pulling its tail out of its spine.

(This likely seems unfathomable to a lot of you, but I must clarify that Biggles isn't some hyper-reactive aggressive, dangerous dog like my sister thinks. He will more than happily play around with the little ones, faux wrestle with them, let them paw all over him and fuss at him, ect. He loves children, they're his babies. He does not love being in pain, and if the person causing it will not respect him or me enough to listen to my warnings, I believe they earn it when he warns them too.)

Anyway. Like you might've guessed, yanking on his tail was what my niece was doing at the beer-and-barbeque this weekend. I told her not to. My parents told her not to. Even my sister half-assedly suggested 'maybe Biggles wants to play a different game.' Biggles got up and moved away from her twice and she followed him both times to 'keep playing.'

My entire family knows how Biggles works. I warned my sister Biggles wouldn't tolerate what was happening. My sister told me I shouldn't own such a dangerous, unpredictable dog and he should be put down if he can't handle some 'rough love from a kid.'

(This was not rough love. This was my niece literally ripping at his tail thinking his pain responses were funny.)

I didn't want to cause a scene or subject Biggles to further harassment so I decided just once I'd cave and take Biggles inside so he could get some peace and I could enjoy my burnt ends without my sister squealing in my ear about being cruel to her child by telling her off.

Unfortunately, Biggles' patience ran out before I could make my way over. My niece yanked at his tail again, hard enough that it actually jolted him on the grass, and Biggles whipped around and nipped at her hand. I got to see her hand afterward and there was just a little red mark, no blood or broken skin. He'd just pinched her a little.

My niece screamed bloody murder like he'd taken her hand off and my sister screamed bloody murder about my 'vicious animal.' It devolved into a massive family-wide argument against my sister because my entire family knows its just basic respect and kindness not to cause an animal pain deliberately, and that its my sister's fault for not listening to anyone when we all told her and my niece not to hurt Biggles.

My sister stormed off and has since been blowing up the entire family demanding that Biggles be put down. She's threatened to call the cops, animal control, you name it. None of us are worried about that. There wasn't even a proper mark left on her hand and Biggles will pass any behavioral test with flying colors, but my sister is giving everyone grief and is refusing to attend any family events if Biggles will be there.

My dad is firmly on my side, but my mom is imploring me to just fake apologise to get some peace back. When I recounted the story to my colleague this morning, he said she got what she earned, but also why would I bring Biggles to an event I knew a disrespectful little shit of a kid was at?

I don't feel like an asshole in terms of allowing my dog to establish his boundaries. In my and my family's opinion pets are their own entities and should be treated with belonging and respect when part of a family. Its also just common sense not to cause an animal pain for the fun of it.

However, I'm also very aware that getting nipped by a dog, especially at such a young age, can be catastrophic. My niece could be terrified of dogs for the rest of her life, and while I don't feel guilty she got corrected, I do feel somewhat guilty that I didn't intervene sooner and have possibly set her up for failure in the future. And I do feel like an asshole for letting it get to that point, but it did all happen pretty quickly.

All things considered I do love my niece, she's family, she just gets away with murder because my sister thinks being a little girl is an automatic pass to do whatever you want without consequence.

I've probably painted Biggles out in a real bad light here, but I can assure you that in general Biggles is the perfect family dog. He's loving, playful, he tries to share his kibble with everyone at dinner, he helped us teach my uncle's puppy tricks and how to behave and potty outside ect.

So I guess I'm really asking am I the asshole in this situation, as the one responsible for Biggles?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Hurt II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Sam feels terrible

Sam hides away for two days after you fall.

She's watched the video so many times now that it's imprinted on her eyelids when she closes them. It's horrifying to look at, you slipping down the stairs, your head hitting each one of them until you're sprawled out by Emma and Jessie's feet at the very bottom.

It's been radio silent from Magda and Pernille and everyone knows better to ask if they're going to be training next week. Emma's already given them enough paid leave to stay at home with you until you're fully recovered.

Eventually, after days of silence, someone on the team must have called Kristie because Sam gets a phone call that essentially tells her to get up off her ass and go to Magda and Pernille's house to either apologise again or beg for forgiveness.

Thoughts swirl in her mind as she approaches the house. The thought at the very forefront is if Magda will ever leave you alone with her again.

You've got an infectious energy that she loves and seeing your broken little body at the bottom of the stairs was traumatising.

Her hands shakily reach up to the door knocker, a cardboard box tucked under her arm as she waits.

It swings open within the minute and Sam feels glad that it's Pernille and not Magda that answered.

"Sam?" Pernille looks confused. "Has something happened?"

"Er...No...I mean, no? Well, I hope not." Sam knows she's rambling now but she can't stop herself, feeling so uncharacteristically nervous that she almost cries.

Pernille seems to notice as well because she stops blocking the hallway. "Do you want to come in?"

Sam toes her shoes off in the doorway and peers inside properly.

The first thing she notices is the way that every sharp corner in the house is covered in either soft fabric or bubble wrap. The second thing she notices is Magda, sitting on the floor with you held possessively between her legs. The third thing, of course, is you. You've got a big bandage stuck to your forehead and your every movement is a little slow and sluggish.

All of your hard plastic toys are packed away in the corner of the room. The only ones you're touching are the soft ones that you couldn't injure yourself with even on accident.

The tension between Sam and Magda feels frosty and Sam tries not to feel the anxiety drop in her stomach when Magda holds you a little tighter when she notices Sam standing there.

Having Magda as her Captain is good most of the time. Magda can be firm sometimes but still fair. She rarely gets angry enough that it impedes her professionalism but the one exception is always you.

Sam can understand. It's a different situation to her and Kristie but there are still parallels. Magda spent so many of your first few years in London, only seeing you on long weekends or through a phone screen. Sam can only really do the same with Kristie and she already knows that anger that swells in her chest when she sees Kristie injured on the pitch.

She can only imagine that those feelings are amplified when it's you, Magda's only daughter, lying bloody and broken in the stadium.

"What's in the box, Sam?" Pernille asks, also noting the tension and refusing to comment on it.

"Oh...er...For y/n," She replies awkwardly.

Sam sits across from you, not nearly close enough to be in the range of Magda's legs but close enough that even your sluggish nature can keep track of her.

"As an apology."

Magda's eyes narrow but she doesn't say anything.

Sam takes it as an invitation, opening up the flaps of the book and pulling out the toys she had gathered. She hadn't been too sure what to get for a kid recovering from a head injury so had Kristie on facetime while she shopped.

She must at least get something right because you seem interested when she pulls out more stuffed animals for your collection. There's an emu just for the fun of it and some kangaroos too but you're especially interested in the koala bear that's right at the bottom.

You stand on shaky feet (shakier than Sam's ever seen you) and try to wander over. You can't though because Magda catches you by the waist and holds you close.

"Magda," Pernille says, her voice low in warning.

Magda relents with a huff and lets you go towards Sam. You make it two steps before you've seemingly exhausted yourself and crawl over.

Up close, your bandage looks even worse and Sam's sure that she can just about make out the bruise poking out from under it. She almost shudders in disgust at herself but with Magda looking like she's a second away from snapping you into her arms again, Sam doesn't.

"It's a koala," She says instead.

You blink up at her, crinkle in your brow as you try to translate her words. It's slower than usual and Sam knows that this concussion must be really bad. You're somewhat of a language prodigy, picking everything up like a sponge.

"Koala," You echo, brushing a finger over the little Steve Irwin-esque hat the toy is wearing," Koala."

"Yeah, koala."

Sam digs around in the box again, bringing out a soft blanket and pillow she had eyed up when she went shopping a few weeks ago.

"This is for you too."

You take it slowly before rubbing the blanket over your face.

Sam looks to Magda and Pernille - who has curled herself into Magda's side and is holding one of her hands.

"I...Er...I read somewhere that kids with concussions get tired a lot."

"That's very thoughtful, Sam," Pernille praises before elbowing Magda in the gut," Isn't that right, Magda?"

"Yeah," Magda grunts," It is."

It's very clear that she's still very annoyed at Sam for what's happened but isn't willing to say anything with you in the room.

You stand up on your shaky feet again, clutching the blanket in one hand and the koala in the other. You stumble forward and Sam watches as both of your mothers surge forward.

Pernille gets there first, pulling you securely into her body and tucking your face into her neck. "Okay, okay, princesse," She says quietly as you fidget and whine," We're gonna stay right here for a moment, alright? No walking."

You struggle weakly against her hold before sagging as a wave of exhaustion comes over you.

Sam watches as Pernille settles fully on the floor, wrapping you up tightly in the blanket as you lay on her. You're still holding the koala, rubbing it over your cheeks and letting out happy little giggles at the soft feeling.

At Sam's staring, Pernille explains," She's been exhausted lately...because of the concussion. She doesn't have the energy to do a lot of the things she likes to."

Sam gnaws at her cheek, flashing back to how disorientated and confused you were when you first got hurt. "Her walking-"

"She's getting better," Magda cuts her off, still glaring," She's doing fine. She's good. She's recovering. There's nothing more to say."

Her tone is firm and makes it clear she doesn't want to talk about your symptoms. Pernille lays a hand on her shoulder and Magda settles for a moment before pulling you into her arms. You end up in the same position you were in when Sam arrived, sitting between Magda's legs and leaning back comfortably against her.

"Koala," You say again, slowly like you're sounding out the letters," Koala."

"Ja," Magda says," Koala."

"Koala."

You stare at it for a moment before sighing a great big huff and pulling the blanket over your head.

"Nap time," Pernille says quietly. She takes you back from Magda, keeping your head covered as she moves to lie on the sofa.

You don't fight like you normally do and a lump forms in Sam's chest when Magda stares at her for a moment before indicating that they leave the room.

They end up in the hallway, with Magda closing the door so you're impromptu nap won't be interrupted.

"That's my kid," She says finally," My only child."

"I'm-I'm sorry."

"And she got hurt. On your watch. You said that you would get her back to the changing room. I trusted you. Pernille trusted you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Magda sighs, hands clenched into fists and, for a moment, Sam wonders if she'll swing. "I've watched that video so many times. And..." There's silence for a moment. "And she slipped on a bit of ice. You couldn't have caught her."

Sam freezes in shock. That wasn't what she expected Magda to say. "Wh-What?"

"What I'm saying is...I'm sorry for throwing you against the wall. And I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. It's just...She's my kid and it scared me."

"I..." Sam has to take a moment to collect her thoughts. "I'm sorry too. For everything."

Magda nods. "Thank you, for coming over with the toys. I'm sure when she feels better, she'll thank you properly too."

The thank you from you comes barely half an hour after you've woken up from your nap. Pernille guides you over to Sam, who has been allowed to stay just a bit longer by Magda.

You sit in her lap, your new blanket draped around your shoulders and still clutching your koala. You're unbelievably sluggish and your crinkle is more present on your face than ever before.

Somehow, you've roped Sam into playing with you - though Pernille looks incredibly worried when you try to stand up by yourself and nearly crash into the side of the coffee table.

Your speech is slightly slurred though, lacking your usual fluency as you make your emu peck at your koala. Your head rolls slightly off to the side sometimes, as if you've suddenly realised that it's heavy and you can't hold it up. Sometimes, you even try to brush hair out of your face but tap at your bandage, leaving you to pull away and stare at your open palm in confusion.

You hum as you glance around the room - at the soft corners of your house and the pile of soft, fuzzy things that have accumulated around you.

"Than...Thank you," You manage to get out eventually after several long seconds of nothing," Thank you, Sam, for-for my...for my presents."

It's slow and halting at times and your voice is incredibly quiet but Sam still manages a smile.

"You're welcome, kid. I'm glad you're feeling better."

You smile softly - it's more of a lift of the corner of your mouth than a true smile but Sam takes it. "Not too better," You say, turning yourself so you're pressed against Sam's chest, voice dropping so Magda and Pernille couldn't hear you," 'Cause I get to sleep in the Big Bed when I'm hurt."

Sam chuckles. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. Wanna sleep...sleep in the Big Bed forever."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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tlou-reid · 11 months

Text

you found me ✰ spencer reid

warnings ✰ gunshot, violence, mentions of maeve, hospitals, mentions of death, mentions of religion and god, angst let me know if i missed any please

summary ✰ spencer is the one to reach you after being shot by an unsub

notes ✰ inspired by you found me by the fray. please send requests here. & this is not edited

spencer wasn't sure what dropped first: him or his gun. he could still hear hotch yelling after him, instructing him to not to go in. first not to go in the black suburban you always made jokes about. then, not to go in the yard of your home spencer had been begging you to move out of. then, not to go in the door of the house that he'd held open for you so many times. now, he could hear hotch's voice telling him not to go in the room, but he sounded like he was underwater. when spencer opened the door he could see morgan holding the unsub to the ground while he got him in cuffs, but, as soon as his knees hit the floor next to your body, everything in his peripherals went blurry.

he knew he should be doing the medical things he learned years ago, back during his training, but he couldn't. he was frozen, unable to do anything but stare at the gunshot wound beneath your left rib. his eyes started to well up with tears as his hands reached out, applying pressure, as if he could stop the bleeding himself.

as soon as his shaky hands landed on your body, all he could think of was maeve. how could he do this again? another person he loved, bleeding to death, all because of him. he felt so selfish. for everything. for moving on from maeve. for falling in love with you. for putting you in this position. for thinking of another woman while you bled out under his hands.

"reid, move," hotch's voice cut through his thoughts. spencer wasn't sure how long he'd been kneeling over you, but it was long enough for medical first responders to get there, get inside, and be ready to take over the job he was failing to do. still, he couldn't bring himself to move from his position. hotch had to pull spencer away, letting the medical team move in and get to work.

despite the tears welling up in his eyes, spencer hadn't starting crying. until now. he was sitting in the floor, with hotch behind him with an arm still wrapped around him when the first sob wracked his body. his whole body jerked as he wailed. hotch didn't know what to do, so he just wrapped his arms around spencer, holding the crying boy to his chest as if spencer was his own son. spencer's bloodied hands reached up to hold hotch's forearms, looking for something to ground himself.

the rest of the day was blurry. time seemed to be moving with super speed, but also not moving at all. spencer felt like a bystander in his own life as he watched them load you into the ambulance. he couldn't move his legs when they asked who was riding with you, so it was prentiss who climbed in, giving him a sad look as they closed the doors.

he rode in that stupid suburban, and neither him nor hotch uttered a word. the ride was completely silent. it wasn't the comforting silence like when you and spencer would sit on the couch, each holding your own book and just enjoying being around each other. this silence was scary. he could feel his heart beat in his temples, his stomach was churning and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. hotch didn't complain about his fidgeting the whole ride to the hospital.

they met prentiss in the waiting room, where she explained that you were in surgery now. there was no update on your state, and the rest of the team was waiting on a phone call from one of you guys to explain what was going on. morgan had called to inform prentiss that the unsub was in custody, and his other victim had passed. spencer didn't say anything in reply. instead, he moved to sit in the chair farthest away from where hotch and prentiss were standing, not wanting to listen to the details of the case.

this case was not one that should have even been on the BAU's radar. the local police knew who the unsub was, they caught him on camera after his first attack. there was no need for a profile, and definitely no need for the BAU to be spending their time on something as simple as a manhunt. until you called. you thought someone had been following you on your walk around the neighborhood, and it was proven that you were right. there was no solid reason why you were the next victim. there was relatively no similarity between you and the other victim, you just happened to be in the wrong place. when his larger frame pressed himself into the door, there was no stopping him. he shot at you, knocking you down, and eventually unconscious, while he looked for anything valuable in the house. spencer didn't know what he was trying to take, and he didn't really care either. all he cared about was you getting better.

one hour turned into two, and then two turned into three. he had somehow convinced prentiss and hotch to leave. he just wanted to be alone, and after a long phone call with garcia, he was. he had started to pace and his thoughts started to wander. he wanted someone, something to blame. sure, this unsub was the one who shot you, but what about the police? the ones who didn't try hard enough to find this guy before he was in your house? what about your neighbors? who weren't keeping an eye on you while you walked, even though you did numerous favors for them? what about him? a law enforcement officer that you were in love with but who wasn't there to protect you?

and lastly, what about God? being a man of science usually kept him from turning to a higher being. but a desperate man will take any chance he can get, and the best word to describe spencer right now was desperate. desperate for you to be okay. desperate for you to make it out of surgery. desperate to be next to you. desperate for someone to blame. so how could God do this? how could he allow something to happen to you? how could he punish spencer after all the good he had been trying to be doing for this world?

his thoughts went wild for what felt like years, but was only a few more hours, before the doctor was coming to get him. "dr. reid?" her voice came into the empty waiting room. his head snapped right to her. "she is out of surgery, she'll be waking up soon. you might want to be in the room when she does."

spencer stomach dropped the way he did earlier. he picked up the sweater vest and tie he had discarded on a waiting room chair and hurried to follow the doctor. when he reached the room, he was shocked at how peaceful you looked. despite all of the noises from the machines, the hospital room was the calmest place he had been in in the last 24 hours. spencer made himself comfortable while he waited for your eyes to flutter open.

and when they did, his eyes were on yours. he couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. it took a few minutes for you to adjust to the room. the noises, the bright lights, the lack of understanding where you were. the last thing you remembered was hitting the ground after having a gun pointed at you. after a few minutes, you turned to face him, "you found me." you smiled, despite the dryness in your throat as you spoke.

"just a little late." spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the guilt that was burrowed in his stomach. he reached forward, rubbing a few fingers along your cheek. "what happened?" you asked, wanting the whole story. spencer explained, leaving out a few parts. you didn't need to know how he couldn't bring himself to help you, or how he cried in hotch's arms, or how many times he had to wash his hands in the hospital's bathroom sink to get your blood off of him.

"that's kinda crazy," you couldn't help but laugh. spencer was mildly uncomfortable at your reaction. "so, when do i get to go home?"

"you don't," spencer begun, "you're moving out, like i have been asking you to." he could see the confusion written across your face. "you're moving in with me, that way i know you'll be safe." he smiled at you, excited at the idea. he had been wanting this for a while. "now get some rest," he said with a gentle tone, "i'll find us something to eat." despite the fact that he hadn't eaten in almost a day, he waited for you to be asleep to leave the room.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x reader #spencer imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds blurb #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

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Congrats on 5k! For the request thing— what about Price, doing some wedding/engagement ring shopping? He wants something special, and something perfect! I think some of the other boys would like to propose with a family ring, but he REALLY wants something nice for his lover, even if she'd be happy with something small and simple.

Give that man extra grey hairs trying to choose between tiny, miniscule details that only a trained jeweler would notice.

—The Perfect One

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞

The Captain’s lips thinned and once more the Jeweler’s face fell with an inward sigh of disappointment.

“Next,” John places the ring back down to the glass counter, the rows and rows of engagement bands inside lit up by background lighting.

“Sir, it’s nearly closing time. I don’t think you’re going to find one today—” Blue eyes stare and don’t blink at the man behind the counter; with nearly three solid seconds of eye-to-eye contact.

The Jeweler clears his throat.

“L…Let me go check in the back.” John grunts and the man scurries out of sight after locking up the previous ring.

They just weren’t right, the Captain admits as he sighs long and rubs a hand over his beard, scratching at his cheek. Some rings were too simple, others too gaudy or far too intricate—there had to be that perfect medium somewhere.

But hell, this was the last jeweler in the city. John scowls at himself; glaring down at the glass and at the hundreds of options inside; all having been taken out and inspected as if they were bombs out in the field. The epitome of no stone left unturned. No man left behind.

No ring left behind.

“Bloody fuckin’...” The Captain trails off, harshly grunting his anger.

If you could see the blatant annoyance in John’s eyes, you’d laugh and take him by the face, kissing his chin before speaking about blood pressure. As if he wasn’t constantly one bullet away from getting his brains shot out of his skull.

It was the thought that counted.

The man closes his small eyes and tilts his head to the side, fingers tapping the counter once.

He just…he wanted it to be everything you would want. All he needed was a plain band, truth be told, but for you, he wanted that ring to show everything that you’d been through together. The good and the bad—past and future. An even mix of love and devotion swathed around your finger to join you both in a promise you’d already been keeping for years.

And none of these blasted bits of metal and stone were good enough.

“If I’d of known it’d be this much trouble,” John grumbles, looking outside at the steadily darkening sky. “I would have just made my own, yeah?”

But it was too late to change career paths, God forbid.

Yet the man really wonders if it’s the ring that’s bothering him or the fact that he’s nervous to finally bend a knee. He knows he shouldn’t be, rationally there’s little chance you’d refuse—this wasn’t exactly a new relationship by any means. You’d both taken your time with things over the course of years.

This was just a matter of when and not if.

Still, the sink in his gut didn’t let up.

“Here,” the Jeweler returns and John snaps back to the shop, moving away his clenched hands from the counter to fold them over his chest as the man brings over a small jewelry box made of reddish wood. “This is it—after you go through that,” he splays his hands in defeat and sends a painful glance John’s way. “You’ve fully gone through my entire stock. Had to dig through all of my displays to find it.”

“What’s wrong with them?” The Captain asks in curiosity, his deep accent pushing through as he grabs and opens the box with two hands—firm and not really hoping for much.

“Nothing!” The Jeweler exclaims, mildly offended. “They’re old pieces—antiques. They don’t match the rest of the designs I have out.” He blinks, thinking hard before he puffs out, saying, “They’ll cost you extra!”

John slides an unimpressed glance upward and frowns, but the rings in the box do more than he expected them to.

He blinks, slightly taken aback.

There were only two in there, swathed by their precious sides in deep navy blue silk to hold them up. The glint of gold and platinum makes John’s breath still as the Jeweler begins talking about the ring that the Captain then takes out carefully.

“Circa 1940, the mixture of gold and platinum makes a unique and yet beautiful mix of class and antiquity with this piece. I would call it Victorian in style, judging by the detail around the raw gemstone—diamond, by the way. The ring is both simple but utterly striking when you look at the finer details, Sir.”

John ignores him, large fingers delicately bringing the object closer to his eye and moving it this way and that. He even goes far enough as to place it on the counter and take a step back to gaze at it from a distance, his eyes narrowed and wrinkles pulled in.

It was stunning. But, above all…it reminded John of you.

The Captain’s lips twitch for a moment, his tension slowly dripping out of him like water.

It made him huff a chuckle, but the Jeweler had been right about this one—the ring was simple, but the deeper intricacies of carved metal built it up to a point of elegance. A reverence and dedication to the craft.

Dedication.

John slowly hums to himself, going back and picking the ring up another time. It sits in his palm, such a little thing, but, oh, so heavy. It wasn’t a shackling weight, no—it was the deep press of purpose.

John closes his hand.

“How much?”

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daisies-daydreams · 6 months

Note

Hi I just found you and OMG I love your Ghostxreader writing. I was wondering if you could write one about a reader that isn’t afraid to stand up to Ghost because she’s sassy and younger but they are doing things behind closed doors. If not that’s okay :)

Pretty Bird (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Inappropriate Work Relationship (reader is a Sergeant), Dom/Sub Themes, Reader is a Brat, "Sir" Kink, Praise/Degradation, Cockwarming, Manhandling, Edging/Orgasm Control, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected P in V Sex (You know the drill), Wall Sex, Creampie, Spankings, Pet names (baby girl, doll, bird), Use of the terms "slut" and "cocksleeve" Word Count: 3.1k+

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so much for your sweet words. 🥹Reader's nickname is "Sparrow". I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

17:00

“I said one-hundred push-ups, Sergeant,” your lieutenant grunted as he crossed his arms. You shrugged as you took a swig from your water bottle.

“I did…if you divide one-hundred by two,” you smirked while screwing the cap shut. Ghost scoffed and narrowed his eyes.

“You gonna take that, Lt.?” Soap jested as he set down his barbell on the weight rack.

“Shut it, MacTavish,” the Brit snapped. Soap kept his smug smile as he held his hands up. Ghost sighed as he turned back to you, his dark, piercing eyes glaring at you through his skull balaclava. You stood up straight and puffed your chest out a little as he lumbered closer to you. “On the mat. Now,” he growled into your ear. You smirked and licked your lips.

“Gonna discipline me in front of everyone…big bear?” you whispered. Ghost’s eyes widened before he shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Damn right I am. Now, be a good girl and get on your back,” he huffed.

“That’s not what you said last night,” you purred as you rubbed his thick upper arm.

“(Y/N),” he warned.

“Simon,” you said much louder as you mirrored his stance. Ghost narrowed his eyes before grabbing your wrist.

“You. Me. Mat,” he grunted out as he dragged you over. You huffed at his strong grip before he threw you forward. A small crowd began to gather around the training mat as you stumbled over your feet, just barely catching yourself. You whipped your head around. You could tell Ghost was giving you a shit-eating grin with the way the corners of his eyes creased.

“I changed my mind. I want you to tackle me,” he said as he planted his feet firmly on the ground and crossed his arms. You snorted and straightened your posture.

“No problem,” you clicked. Ghost waited-he was as still as a statue as you prepared yourself. Time seemed to slow down as you rushed towards him, slotting a leg inside his ankle as you wrapped one of his arms behind your back. You gasped when you felt his other hand wrap around and snatch the back of your sweaty shirt. You yelped as he easily tossed you aside like a ragdoll, your body tumbling across the mat as several people grimaced at the move.

“You’re slow...and your form is sloppy,” he sneered as he readjusted himself. You clenched your jaw as you pushed yourself back up. You did a little zig zag, drawing a few laughs from your audience as Ghost huffed. “What the bloody fuck are you doing?” he grunted. You smiled as you soon circled around him, swaying your hips as little and giving him a seductive smirk.

A whistle suddenly came from the crowd, causing Ghost to snap his head around. You instantly rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his thick torso as you put your entire body weight into your lunge. You strained against Ghost’s muscular form as he scoffed.

“That the best you got, Sparrow?” he huffed. You suddenly dipped down, your face moving down his stomach as you wrapped your arms around his upper legs.

“No…this is,” you grinned as you tenderly squeezed the inside of his thighs. You heard air rush out from his lungs as you ducked your upper body forward. Time slowed as your shoulders knocked against his knees while you slid forward. Ghost fell onto his hands, catching himself just in time before he face-planted onto the worn, sweaty mat. The room was deadly silent before someone began to clap, then whoop.

Soon you stood up straight, a wide smirk on your face as the small crowd applauded your feat. You glanced at the lieutenant who was barely standing on his slightly wobbly legs. You stepped over and held your hand out. Ghost shifted his gaze between your hand and your sweat-covered face, his presence more than menacing. He sighed as he clasped his hand into yours. You gasped as he pulled you toward him, your chest nearly crashing against his as he leaned close to your ear.

“Meet me in my office at nineteen hundred, Sergeant. I need to discipline you for your infractions,” he husked. You bit your lip.

“And what happens if I don’t come?” you asked as you rubbed your thighs together. Ghost narrowed his eyes before Gaz scoffed.

“For fuck’s sake, would the both of you get a room already?” he spoke. Your jaw dropped while Ghost instantly backed away. Gaz’s eyes widened when he saw Ghost’s deadly stare.

“Aaaand that’s my cue to leave,” the Sergeant said as he turned on his heel. You tapped Ghost’s arm.

“He was just kidding,” you sighed. Ghost grunted as his muscles relaxed a little.

“Nineteen-hundred. Don’t be late,” he grunted. You smirked as he walked away, his legs still somewhat unsteady from your little “trick”.

19:00

You swayed your hips as you walked down the hall. Your fresh pair of clothes hiding the panties and bra that nicely hugged your body. Your heart pounded inside your rib cage as you knocked on the door to Ghost's office.

“Come in,” he called in his low, gruff voice. You bit your lip as you opened the door. Ghost glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes darkening when you shut and locked the door behind you. You turned around to see him pushed back from his desk. His eyes flickered through his mask as he raised one finger and tilted it towards him.

“I’ve got a special form of discipline for you, little bird,” he said as you heard him lick his lips and spread his legs. You slid onto the side of his desk and arched your back.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Simon,” you lilted as you wiggled your ass against the wooden surface. Ghost narrowed his eyes before sliding one of his hands over your hip. You mewled as he squeezed your soft flesh.

“You disobeyed my order and didn't do one hundred push-ups…” Ghost whispered. A lump swelled in your throat as his hand slipped down a little further. “And then you performed inappropriate contact with your superior...in front of a crowd, no less,” he husked. You released a shaky breath as he brushed his fingers over the hand of your pants. You whined as he pulled his hand back, his chair creaking as he adjusted himself.

“Now, take your pants off and take a seat, Sparrow,” Ghost beckoned as he patted his thigh. You turned around and gaped at the large, swollen bulge beneath his slacks. His eyes lit up with amusement as he rubbed up and down his leg. “C’mon then-don’t want to keep your Lieutenant waiting,” he drawled.

You swallowed as you slipped your shoes off and slowly pulled your pants down. Ghost growled when he laid eyes on the midnight black panties that hugged your hips. You walked over and adjusted your hips before sinking down onto his thighs, your legs draped over his own. Your eyes widened when he suddenly dipped his hand below your panties and began to slide his thick digits up and down your juicy slit.

“Fuck, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you,” Ghost murmured before slathering your clit with your warm slick. “You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you?” he whispered. You moaned as he harshly squeezed your thigh. “Say it-say you’re my dirty little slut,” he rasped into your ear as he flicked your bundle of nerves. You shivered in his grasp.

“I-I’m your dirty little slut,” you said as you fluttered your lashes. Ghost groaned, his eyelids drooping down as he rubbed your waist.

“There’s my good soldier,” he breathed. You threw your head back and gripped his forearms as he drew fast, sloppy circles around it.

“S-Simon” you squealed. Your jaw went slack as he slid his middle finger deep inside your gushing hole. Your walls spasmed around his digit as he thrusted inside you-his long, quick strokes making your toes curl and cheeks flush. “Aah,” you keened as your mind was flooded with pleasure.

You whined as you remained spread out on his lap, your panties fully pushed to the side as he plunged his finger deep inside your soft, wet heat. You groaned as he curled his against your g-spot, your walls greedily gripping hit thick digit.

“Look at you-floodin’ my lap, makin’ a mess of yourself,” Ghost grunted as he pumped a second finger inside with a juicy squelch. You panted wildly, your hard nipples rubbing against your bra as your body glowed with heat. Your legs twitched as he scissored his fingers inside your gummy walls, spreading you before pulling back out. You blinked when you felt his lips graze over your cheek.

“Gimme your soft lips, pretty bird,” he purred. You parted your lips before he leaned forward, his fingers working your pussy open while his tongue danced and flickered over yours. You inhaled through your nose; the smell of lingering sweat and gun oil mixed with your sex made your head spin. You moaned as Ghost hungrily devoured your lips in an eager kiss. He tilted his head just as he pressed down on your puffy clit.

“Mmm,” you moaned as you bit your lip. You felt the muscles in your lower stomach start to wind and twist with each swipe and stroke of his digits. Your heart thrummed inside your ears as you heaved.

“Simon, g-gonna cum,” you whimpered as he circled your clit even faster, your walls nearly choking his fingers in a vice grip. You dug your nails into his tattooed skin as your hips raised off his lap. You gasped when he slipped his fingers out, leaving your hole puckering and aching for release. Ghost cooed as you whimpered and bucked your hips forward, his massive, calloused hands splaying over your thighs. You shivered as you felt him smear your slick over your goose-bump ridden skin.

“No, I think you need a bit more discipline before you get to cum,” he murmured. You whined and ground your ass against his lower stomach.

“Please, Simon,” you cried. His pink lips were curved into a frown as he clicked his tongue. You squeaked when he cupped your chin and turned your face towards him.

“Be a good little Sergeant and slowly sink yourself down on my cock,” Ghost rumbled before pecking his lips over your pulse. You moaned as he sucked over the sensitive spot, your walls fluttering around nothing. You gulped as you raised your hips while he pulled out his cock. You squealed when you felt his long, veiny shaft slap against your ass. Ghost sucked in a sharp breath as you grabbed his meaty length and slowly pumped up and down.

“Mmm that’s my good girl,” Ghost growled. You blew a puff of hot air before rubbing his flush tip against your slick hole, teasing him ever so slightly. Both of you groaned as his thick tip breached past the seam of your entrance, your pussy squelching softly with every inch you took.

“Oh my God,” you cried out as you felt his heavy cock throb between your stretched walls.

You grunted as one of his prominent veins brushed over your sensitive spot, shivers coursing through your whole body. You gasped when his whole cock sheathed inside you, the feeling of fullness sending bolts of pleasure through your core. Ghost smoothed his hand over your hip while bringing his other up to your lips. Your face flushed as you felt him tap his fingers against your mouth, your slick spreading over your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth slightly before he slid them in. You moaned at the heady taste of yourself he slowly pushed and pulled his digits inside your wet cavern. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, drawing a satisfied grunt from the lieutenant.

“I knew you could be a good girl if you just tried,” Ghost chuckled as he took his pen into his other hand. You slurped up your arousal as your brows furrowed. He hummed quietly as he returned to his work, his dark eyes now scanning over his papers. You huffed and sank your teeth down a little. Ghost glanced over at you.

“Not yet. Gotta wrap a few things up first,” he muttered as he flipped a page, his lips drawn in an unenthused frown. You flared your nostrils as your walls hugged him tightly, your body screaming for release. You tried you bounce yourself on his shaft, only for him to hold you down with his other hand.

You gasped once he finally drew his fingers out, your lungs swelling with air as you panted. Ghost slowly drove his digits into his own mouth, suckling on it while he kept his gaze on a new set of papers. You keened when he pulled them out with a wet “schlick”. Your entire body trembled as you held yourself back from raising your hips.

“I have to admit: it was pretty clever of you to use my weak spot during the sparring session today,” he piped up. You raised your brows as you let your back sink into his chest.

“Really?” you asked. Ghost flipped another page and nodded.

“Sure...had to keep up appearances, though,” he commented. You hummed.

“That’s not the only thing you can keep up,” you retorted as you squeezed his cock between your walls. Ghost clenched his fist around his pen as he let out a small groan.

“(Y/N),” he warned. You wore a wry smirk as you clenched around his dick again. Ghost nearly stabbed the paper in front of him as he hissed between gritted teeth. “Stop,” the lieutenant grunted. You chuckled.

“What’s the matter, Si?” you lilted. Ghost exhaled sharply as you rubbed your hips back and forth, his grip becoming looser over your waist.

“Love, keep doin’ that and I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” you teased before kissing the corner of his mouth. Ghost stiffened beneath you as you flexed your pussy again, his cock twitching inside your tight heat.

“I’m not goin’ to fall for this,” he grunted impatiently as he tapped his pen against the papers.

“Even if I let you cum inside me?” you purred. Ghost stopped tapping his pen. You gasped when he pulled you off of him before flipping you around. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck as he attacked your pulse with deep bites and vibrant hickeys.

“So...I’ll take that as a yes?” you smirked. Ghost grunted before snatching your legs in his strong grasp. You yelped when he lifted you up, your calves finding their way around his torso as he lumbered towards the wall. Your eyes widened as the muscular man pressed you against the flat surface, the cold chill of the smooth paint making you shudder.

You rolled your head to the side when Ghost pushed inside you in one fluid thrust, his lips attached to your neck all the while. The balls of your feet squeezed against his lower back as your lieutenant pounded into your warm pussy, each stroke more savory than the last.

“You want my cum, hm? Want me to fill up this tight, slutty cunt?” Ghost snarled, his voice thick with carnal desire. You nodded, tears of pleasure streaming down your hot cheeks as you felt his mushroom-like tip kiss your cervix.

“God yes,” you moaned. Ghost gave a gravelly chuckle as he snapped his hips forward.

“Yeah, you love being stuffed with this thick cock, don’t you?” he rasped into your ear. You whined and nodded, nearly knocking your head against the wall.

“Yes!” you sobbed as you felt your muscles grow tight inside the deep pit of your belly. You yelped when he sank his teeth into your shoulder.

"'Yes' what?" Ghost groaned as he felt your pussy deliciously squeeze his shaft, your slick dripping down his balls and onto the polished floor. You swallowed.

"Y-Yes sir," you moaned. He grunted in approval as he bucked his hips.

“Look at you makin’ a mess again-my little cocksleeve,” he breathed. Your legs shook as you heard the wet 'plaps' of skin meeting skin, your breathing growing more ragged with each thrust.

“Shit Simon,” you whined as you ran your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. Ghost bared his teeth as his calloused hands squeezed the supple flesh of your ass. You shoved your face into his shoulder and screamed as the head of his cock grazed over your g-spot.

“Be a good slut for me and milk my cock of every last drop, yeah?” he growled. You nodded as your body lit up with pleasure, dangling on the edge.

“Y-Yes…Yes! Yes!” you yelled as your gummy walls clamped down on his dick. Both of you moaned as you rolled your hips forward, your walls convulsing around his thick, sensitive shaft.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Ghost breathed as he shallowly thrusted inside your gushing hole. Your entire body shook as your orgasm violently rolled over you, your mind completely numb with bliss. Ghost gripped your ass as you soaked his shoulder with your drool. “That’s it, soak my cock baby girl,” he grunted. You felt each powerful thrust inside you, his tip kissing your cervix each time.

“Mmm, S-Simon,” you slurred as your legs loosened around his hips. Ghost rumbled as he screwed his eyes shut.

“Could stay in this perfect pussy forever,” he gasped as he snapped his hips forwards. You dug your nails into his back as you felt his cock twitch against your over-sensitive walls. You groaned his name as he pushed up with a harsh thrust.

“Fuck!” he growled as he shoved you all the way down on his girthy dick. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his cum flood your tight pussy, your gummy walls quickly getting soaked with his milky seed. "That's it, sweetheart," Ghost huffed as his cock throbbed inside your weeping sex.

You flexed your toes as you felt a small bump swell beneath your mound. His cock twitched for the last time as he puffed a breath of hot air over your skin. You shivered as his cum began to leak out of your cunt and down his veiny shaft, your sweltering bodies pressed against each other in a sweaty mess. Ghost panted against your neck before he slowly lowered you to the floor, his dick slipping out with a juicy "pop". You sighed as he steadied you.

"You feelin' alright?" he asked. You nodded as your knees nearly knocked together.

"Y-Yes," you replied. You gasped as he grabbed your waist and flipped you around.

“Good-'cause I'm not done disciplining you yet, Sergeant,” he tutted lowly as he slapped your ass.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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