#bet simon knows how to apologise to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainfern · 10 months

Note

REQUESTS OPEN ?!?!?!? PLEEEEASE ,MAY I ????

May i request a piece for our boi Casper ( Ghost ) 🥹🥹? Something along the idea of : mutual pining with reader being an absolute sweetheart to Ghost (and everyone else but mostly Casper) BUT it starts with Ghost trying to make reader go away by being a dick to them to avoid dealing with the feelings, reader gets hurt and upset and then turn into the most cold stone souless person every seen by mankind and ofcourse Ghost is mad and trying to fix it but how to do that when nothing works .... Confess \o/

Can be nsfw if you want it to be, I can bet on anything that no one will mind :3

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Orion

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Orion” by Metallica]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - a bit of grumpy x sunshine. grumpy fucks it up and really, really wants to apologise lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 5k • warnings - fem!reader, grumpy!ghost at the start but that doesn't last long lol, porn with a sprinkle of plot, a bit of subby!ghost [he begs— you're fucking welcome whores 🙏], oral [f!receiving], unprotected piv, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial?, ok it's not "a bit" of sub!ghost it's a lot of sub!ghost, he whines and whimpers in this btw, praise, begging, good lord this is self-indulgent, strong language

thank you anon !! i've changed it a little, just because i don't think ghost would be a complete dick, just a grumpy and if he does act like a dick, he doesn't mean it fr <3 but i hope you like it anyway !!

and hehe yes i made it nsfw i can't resist i mean look at that man

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

He was hopelessly in love with you.

And it fucking pissed him off.

How could he not be? You flounced around base, smiling and giggling at god knows what. You cooked for the task force, helped clean, kept them company in the rec-room, all with a dazzling smile plastered on your face.

You were kind and respectful, too. Always did what Price told you, like a good little rookie. Always listened to Soap's advice, improving your shooting techniques. Always understood Gaz's signals, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and what he wanted you to do. And always, always being so good for your lieutenant.

You waited on tenterhooks at every word that came from Ghost's mouth. He watched the way you listened to him, your full attention on him. Sparkling eyes watching his next move, ears in tune to the slight huff and puff of his brewing anger. It seemed you knew how to deal with his emotions better than he did.

And it pissed him off.

You never seemed to get angry with him, frustrated or upset. No matter how many times he raised his voice, reprimanded you for doing something utterly moronic. You just nodded, apologised calmly, smiled and walked away, leaving him smouldering inside his own grievances.

"What the fuck are you doing, rookie? You're in the fucking way."

"Sorry, Lieutenant!" You chirped, bounding away.

And that wasn't the only way you put up with him.

Some days were hard for Ghost, dealing with everything going on inside his head. He struggled to admit it, too. So when he found himself in the barracks kitchen at three in the morning, frustration bubbling inside him, he threw the jar he had struggled— and failed to open— at the wall. It burst, shattering into a million tiny pieces, sprinkling across the floor like shards of crystal. The contents— strawberry jam, if he remembered correctly— slugged down the wall, a vibrant red trail smearing against the paint.

You entered, maybe awoken by the shattering of glass, finding Ghost heaving silently in the kitchen, chest moving at a million miles per hour as his heart raced.

You stretched a hand in his direction. "Are you—?"

"Don't." Ghost hissed.

You retreated.

"Do you need—?"

"Didn't I fucking say don't?" Ghost snapped, eyes flashing.

He knew that was harsh. Saw it in the way your bottom lip trembled every so slightly, and your sparkling eyes dimmed in the low light of the kitchen. But, you didn't give up. Of course you fucking didn't.

He watched you silently as you grabbed the broom from the edge of the room, and began sweeping up the glass. He continued to watch as you scooped up the shards of glass, every last glittering fragment, and toss them into the bin. You even cleaned the large smear of jam off the wall, humming quietly to yourself as you did.

Ghost just watched.

Once you were done, you turned to him, offering a sympathetic smile. Then, you walked to the refrigerator and plucked another jar of jam from the door. You offered it to him, still smiling.

"This one's raspberry. Not strawberry, unfortunately, but I think it tastes better, anyway." Maybe you were just trying to make him feel better. If you did, it worked. Spitefully well, too.

He took it from you. He didn't thank you, though, just turned away with a muffled sigh. You continued to look at him, a soft smile still on your lips.

He wondered if you were expecting a thank you. Probably. So when he went to open his mouth, when he went to mutter out a thank you, he turned, and you were gone, shuffling out of the kitchen, still humming to yourself.

A week later, Ghost was still intent on denying whatever it was he felt for you.

The five of you on a day off, relaxing around the rec-room. You played pool with Gaz, laughing. Melodic. You looked so carefree, so effortlessly beautiful, and it made Ghost's cheeks heat up beneath his mask. Fucking hell.

You were quite handsy with the sergeant, too, Ghost noticed. Hugging and touching, arms around his waist, fingers trailing his arms. Ghost watched from across the room, seething silently. Gaz made you laugh again. Again and again and the sound of your laughter was making the grip Ghost had on his glass almost earth-shattering. All white-knuckle and pure jealously. Not like he admitted that to himself, though.

You eventually turned your pretty face towards Ghost, lips curved.

"Fancy a game, L.T?" You battered your eyelashes, biting your lower lip briefly. Or was that in Ghost's head?

"Pass." Ghost forced himself to grunt, heat blooming in his chest.

You pouted. "Aw, come on, Ghost—!"

"Pass." Ghost repeated, cutting you off with his deep baritone.

You closed your mouth, but still his grumpiness didn't deter you. You shrugged to yourself, turning back to Gaz with that signature smile of yours.

"Another round then, Garrick?"

"You're on."

A few days after that, Ghost was reaching his breaking point.

He was trying everything in his right mind to keep you away from him. To stop you from being such a goddamn angel, doting on his every doing. He wanted you to see who he really was, who he felt like he really was.

You were particularly happy this day. Seemingly bouncing around the barracks, the pure essence of you permeating the entire space— burning white, tooth-rotting sweetness, smelling of everything that Ghost loved. Loved about you. Fuck, he was mad.

You circled the room, hugging each of your comrades. You hugged Price like the father-figure he was. Short and sweet, but warm and comforting. You had your head to his chest, mumbling something that made Price smile, eyes squinting.

Then you hugged Soap. The bastard swept you off your feet, making you giggle. He said something to you that had you snorting out a bemused laugh, smacking him lightly on the chest when he put you down. He pat you gently on the head before you were sprinting to Gaz.

The way your face lit up made Ghost's heart clench.

You practically threw yourself into Gaz's arms, your arms around his shoulders as his circled your waist. He pressed you close— too close for Ghost's liking— rocking you gently as you thanked him. For what? What the hell were you thanking him for?

After what seemed like an eternity of Ghost burning daggers into you and the sergeant, you broke away, and began to approach Ghost. He froze in place, back to the kitchen counter. What were you doing? Approaching him looking so happy and perfect?

He acted out. On instinct.

You opened your arms, and he skulked away.

"Don't you dare," he grumbled, backing away. "I am not in the mood for whatever it is you're doing today, rookie."

Your smile faltered. A millisecond. "But, Ghost—?"

"Seriously, rookie," Ghost said sternly. "What's got you acting like this at eight in the morning?"

At that very moment, he felt his heart break into thousands of pieces.

Your smile dropped.

The glimmer in your eyes faded.

Without a word, you left the room, and Gaz hurried after you. Ghost followed your departing form with curious eyes. Then, he turned to Price and Soap, who were looking at him in dissapointment.

"What?" He gritted, jaw ticking.

"You're a fool, L.T. A real fool." Soap shook his head slowly.

Ghost huffed. "What d'you mean?"

"You're always acting like a complete dick to her," Soap continued. "Even on her birthday."

Ghost's heart leapt into his throat, stomach twisting, making him nauseous.

"Her... birthday?" Ghost tried not to let the waver in his voice sound through.

Soap nodded. "Yeah. S'why she's in such a good mood. Gaz got her something nice, I think—"

"What Soap's trying to say is that you, being a stubborn prick, has made her special day... not so special." Price added, digging a cigar and a lighter from his pocket. He left the room, heading outside, offering no more words, making Ghost's nervousness swell.

He turned to Soap, desperation clawing his insides. "What should I—?"

"Go and apologise, ya fuckhead." Soap beat him to it.

Wordlessly, Ghost left, hurrying towards your bedroom. When he got there, Gaz was just leaving, and the sergeant gave the lieutenant a stern look.

Ghost was almost breathless. "I need—"

"No, you don't, Ghost," Gaz said softly. "You've done enough."

"But—?"

"Seriously, Ghost, just leave," Gaz continued. "You're always so grumpy towards her, anyway. Just leave it."

He pushed past Ghost. Ghost stood outside your door, the urge to open it almost overwhelming. But he didn't. Hands in fists, nails digging into his palms, he walked away.

He needed to hit something.

•º•

You successfully avoided him for a week. He commended you internally for your ability to avoid him like the fucking plague. But, he hated it. He hated the way he made you feel, and he hated the way you were making him feel. His emotions were all over the place, and he desperately needed to get them in check.

So, he came to a conclusion.

He needed to apologise.

Well, he had been trying to. You weren't having any of it. He respected that.

But now, he was inching past his ability to remain respectful. Each time your smile faded when he entered the room; each time you ignored a simple favour or request of his; each time you wrapped yourself into Gaz's arms after a long, strenuous mission.

That sent him over the edge.

It was a stormy night, complete with heavy rain and the distant roll of thunder, when Ghost idled outside your bedroom door. He was a war-machine, a killer— but he was desperately working himself up to knock on your door. He was nervous.

So when he did finally knock, his heartrate was elevated.

You opened the door a crack, peering into the shadowed hallway. Ghost saw your eyes flicker across his body; how rich they were in emotion. He rushed forward and quickly jammed his foot in the door, noticing you begin to push it closed.

"What do you want?" You hissed, so devoid of your usual sunshine.

"Can... can I talk to you?"

A moment passed. Then, you opened the door, and let him inside.

Your room was exactly how Ghost had imagined it. Just like you. Warm, cozy, sweet-smelling. It was dripping in everything that was you. Ghost inhaled deeply, watching as you plonked yourself down on the edge of your bed, body illuminated by the soft golden light of your lamp.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Well?"

Ghost just released it all. Everything he wanted to tell you, he did. He apologised profusely, again and again. He admitted to being a complete dickhead, and then apologised for that. He thanked you for putting up with him, for listening to him, for understanding him so well. And at the end of it all, he confessed.

"I'm in love with you."

You gaped at him.

"Always have been."

You were at a loss for words.

But Ghost wasn't. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't.

"I love you, rookie. I really do."

You blinked at him, then slowly got to your feet. He watched you, heart slamming against his ribcage, cheeks stinging hot beneath the fabric of his balaclava. He watched as you neared, lifting your hands to cup his face over the material.

"Prove it."

Ghost swallowed, throat dry all of a sudden. "What?"

"Prove how much you love me." You whispered, biting your lower lip.

This time, Ghost knew the action wasn't just in his head.

Because when he pressed closer to you, placing his gloved hands on your waist, he saw you release your bottom lip and curl your mouth into a smile. The smile he loved.

"I'm sorry, for everything." Ghost whispered as he backed you towards your bed.

"I know," you said, sitting on your bed and hooking your legs around his waist, pulling him down on top of you. "So show me."

Ghost couldn't help himself. Even with the mask still on, he slammed his mouth onto yours. He expected some kind of protest as he parted his lips, tongue pressing to the smooth fabric, heat and moisture smothering yours. But you didn't— you sighed outwardly, becoming pliant as you moved your own lips, revelling in the solid heat of his tongue against your own through the fabric.

He let out a low sound, a mix between a grunt and a whine, as he pressed himself closer to you. He was slowly getting frustrated by the material barrier as he kissed you. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the lower part of his mask. It snapped, and made Ghost's breath hitch.

It's like you could read his mind as you looked into his eyes.

"You wanna take it off?" You asked, fingers at his neck, where the end of the balaclava sat snugly near the base. Your fingers squeezed gently, and he exhaled loudly.

He whined, hushed, from the back of his throat. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?" You grinned, gently rolling the mask upwards. It cleared his neck, then over his jaw, exposing his mouth and nose, before finally being ripped from his head entirely, leaving him exposed to you.

He usually would have felt nervous. Self-conscious, definitely. But not tonight. Not when, as a clap of thunder sounded outside, you moaned at the sight of him, and yanked his face back towards your own. It made his cock harden, painful in his cargos, as your mouths interlocked again. Your tongue swept into his first, and he let out another low noise, your fingers tugging at the roots of his hair.

Ghost shifted you both, making sure your head touched your pillows, resting comfortably. Still kissing, his hands explored down your body, skimming your sides, your thighs. Your hands tightened in his hair when one of his hands drifted inwards, brushing your upper inner thigh. He panted as you pulled him away from you, blond locks clutched in your fist. He looked down at you, eyes and lips just as glossy as each other, cheeks pink.

"You still want to apologise?" You asked, other hand drawing around his face and cupping his jaw.

He nodded, slightly, not doing much in your grip.

"Good," you hummed, pleased. "Get on the floor."

He did as he was told. Straight a-fucking-way. Now kneeling on the floor beside your bed, you sat on the edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, you pulled down your pyjama pants. Ghost watched you, completely rapt, as your fingers worked your underwear down your legs.

"Fucking hell..." He whispered as you kicked your underwear away.

You put your backside onto the edge of your bed, beckoning him closer. He shuffled further, and you placed your legs across his shoulders as his hands snaked up to grab at your thighs. Your core was bare to him under the golden lamplight, practically glistening. He withheld a moan as he leaned forward, attempting to put his mouth on you. But, you stopped him— clamping your thighs on either side of his head.

This time, he did let his moan out, high and breathy as he looked up at you through long, blond lashes, head encased between the plush of your thighs.

You looked down at him, tutting. "What do you want?"

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing slightly.

You flexed the muscles of your legs, tightening the weight of your thighs against his ears and cheeks. He grunted, closing his eyes.

"Well?" You prompted. "Tell me, Si."

Maybe it was the use of the nickname, of his real name. Maybe it was the heat of your flesh searing the sides of his head. Maybe it was the way his erection was growing impossibly hard inside his pants. Whatever it was made Ghost whimper. Fucking whimper.

Embarrassment, red hot, flared across his face.

"Want to taste you," he whispered, face burning. "Please."

"This is how you wanna apologise?" You teased, bringing a hand down to his head, massaging his scalp. "Wanna make me cum on your tongue?"

He tried his best to reply, groaning deep from his chest, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs. "Please, baby, please."

You chuckled, releasing the tension in your legs. "Only because you asked so nicely."

Ghost was elated. He practically surged forward, licking a fat stripe up your slit. You mewled, hands clinging to his hair, as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. He repeated his actions, before dragging his tongue downwards, circling your dripping hole. Nose nudging your clit, his tongue delved inside you, making you shudder.

He was in heaven. The small, breathy noises you were making; the way you gripped and pulled at his slightly grown-out hair; the taste of your arousal that was leaking out of you. His cock jumped with each stroke of his tongue, his own arousal building with each subtle sound he elicited from your pretty mouth. His large, gloved hands massaged your thighs, groping the soft flesh. He enjoyed the warmth near the sides of his head.

"Feels good, Si." You breathed, and Ghost's cock jumped again.

He groaned into you, vibrations sending your mind spiralling. Heat was building in the base of your tummy as his nose continually nudged against your swollen clit. Ghost was grunting and groaning quietly into your sopping cunt, lapping up every bit of arousal he could. Pearls of it slipped past his lips, rolling down his chin, iridescent in the light. He didn't care. Of course he didn't. He was fucking loving it.

You moaned again when Ghost quickly moved his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, before sucking your clit into his mouth, front teeth grazing it gently. Your hips bucked, urging him closer.

"Si, oh my god— ha, fuck— feels so good," you keened, pleasure unfurling inside you. "Fuck, doing so good, Si. Such a good boy—"

Ghost short-circuited as you came in his mouth. He dipped his head to stuff his tongue back into your hole just in time, catching your release in his mouth. But your breathy words, good boy, echoed around his skull and made him whine, impossibly loud, into your cunt. He felt his stomach pang, balls tightening, before he fucking came in his pants, whispering your name into your fluttering hole.

His face grew hotter than it already was when he pulled away from you, dragging his right cheek across your inner thigh, light stubble tickling you. You breathed deeply above him, watching with hooded eyes as he placed a line of gentle kisses from your bikini line to your knee.

You massaged his scalp, and his eyes fluttered.

He was wondering if you noticed that he—

You released a breathy laugh, and his eyes snapped open, immediately finding yours. You tugged your legs away, planting them on the floor. Ghost continued to kneel in front of you.

"Aww, my poor baby," you muttered, and it would've been patronising if Ghost wasn't so whipped right now. "D'you cum already?"

He grit his teeth. "Don't—"

"S'okay, Si, it's okay," you smiled, patting his burning cheek. "I understand. I tasted that good, huh?"

You laughed again, another roll of thunder cracking outside. Ghost nodded, ashamed almost, but not regretful. He'd die a happy man if he could spend even another second in your wet cunt.

"Come on then," you said suddenly, scooting back onto your bed. "Since you're so desperate, right?"

He looked at you and then slowly got to his feet, legs trembling slightly.

You leaned against your pillow— looking like an absolute angel— spreading your legs as you wiggled your bra off, exposing your tits. Ghost's cock grew again, sticky with his own spend. You dragged your hands over your tits, tweaking your nipples while Ghost clambered onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He was still fully dressed.

Not for long, clearly.

"Clothes." You said simply, and he obeyed.

Your hands dragged down your body, skirting across your stomach as Ghost pulled his gloves and shirt off, his trousers following. He huffed, pulling his underwear off and dumping them on the floor, ignoring the obvious that was splattered inside. Now bare, he kneeled back between your legs, a hand settling on one of your ankles, the other gripping the base of his cock.

Your hands dipped between your legs, and he let out a gravelly whine as you pushed two fingers into your wet cunt, the other hand moving a finger to your puffy clit. He was salivating.

"You know, I've liked you for a long time, Si," you said, voice a bit whiny. Ghost licked his lips. You continued, voice a whisper. "Mm... 's how I touched myself thinking about you."

You demonstrated perfectly; two fingers knuckle deep in your hole, another pressing tight circles to your clit. You mewled his name.

"Oh, fuck." Ghost whispered, hips and cock bucking into his fist. Just once. The look you gave him made him pause. All fucked out, blissful, in complete and utter control.

"Mhm, yeah— my grumpy lieutenant, always telling me what to do. Always so rough with me," you crooned as you fucked yourself with your fingers, Ghost's eyes burning into you as he lazily stroked himself. "S'just... that's not you, is it, Si? You don't wanna be rough with me, do you? You just wanna be my good boy, I know."

Ghost whined, releasing his cock and crawling up to you. He grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your cunt, much to your amusement.

"Fucking Christ, don't say that—" Ghost hissed as he brought your hand to his face, drawing your two fingers into his mouth and sucking your arousal clean off.

You smiled. "What? Considering you came in your boxers untouched, I'd say you like being called that."

Ghost groaned, fingers leaving his mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva followed, and it broke when he chased past your hand, pressing his mouth to yours. You kissed, hot and heavy, for a minute, the rain hammering the roof outside. You moved a hand down, skating down his abs, before gripping his cock.

"Hah—" He breathed, gasping into your mouth as you pumped him, fingers wet with his saliva.

You kissed him still: sloppily, as you jerked him off. He barely responded, lips pliant against yours, eyes closed as the pleasure of your hand around his cock sent him into a daze. You licked into his mouth, his tongue struggling to meet yours, as you pumped him faster and faster until you could feel him twitching in your hand.

"Mmm... gonna..." Ghost murmured, drunk, against your mouth.

You pulled your hand away.

"Ah— fuck no," Ghost swallowed a frustrated moan, voice muted as you pushed his head away.

You licked your lips as you looked at him. He could've cum from that sight alone.

"You want to make it up to me, right?" You asked.

He nodded, cheeks red.

You leaned in close, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw. "Then fuck me."

Ghost's mouth dropped open in a short lived moan before you were kissing him. Kissing him so hard it made him dizzy; high off the sweet taste of you.

Meanwhile, he was clumsily aligning his cock with your wet cunt, his tip reddened and leaking pre, rolling in rivulets down the sides of his rigid cock. The head notched your entrance, and you released a shaky breath. He pulled out of the kiss.

"You... alright?" He asked, sounding more than a little breathless.

You nodded. "Mmmfuck, yeah."

"You sure?" He asked, the head of his cock sitting heavy at your entrance.

You looked him directly in the eyes, and he released a low sound, bending to kiss you again.

"Please," you said into the kiss. "Need you to fuck me, Si."

"Okay," he murmured, dragging his lips along your jaw. "Okay, okay, fuck, okay—"

He eased his cock into you as he mumbled incoherently, cursing. You were so wet, so warm, so fucking tight. He nipped at your neck, distracting himself so he didn't cum straight away because he did not need that kind of embarrassment haunting him for the rest of his life. Your arms curled around his broad shoulders, fingers flexing along the rigid plains of his muscles, tips brushing each smooth scar.

"That's it, Si, that's it," you told him, lips to the shell of his ear. "Feels good— so full."

He whimpered into your neck, face and body hot as his cock sunk further into you. His hips slapped to yours as he finally bottomed out, just as he moved himself out of your neck so that he could look down at you. As usual, you looked absolutely stunning; eyes glazed, kiss-bitten lips parted.

He couldn't help himself.

"You're beautiful," he said as he pulled his cock all the way out, before slamming back into you. "So beautiful... so pretty... such a pretty girl."

You hummed a moan past the smile spreading on your lips, Ghost finding a pace and rhythm as he bullied his cock into your wet heat over and over again, heavy balls slapping the curve of your arse as you were jolted against your mattress.

Ghost's hands were all over your body, as if he was committing it to memory. Running up and down your sides, groping along your tits, fingers dancing across your throat. Large hands moved to your thighs, massaging the plush flesh. Gently, he grasped the backs of your knees and slowly pushed your legs upwards, towards your chest. You smiled lazily at him as, still drilling his cock into you, he tucked your legs to your chest, pressing his body impossibly closer.

You tossed your head back, moaning loudly at the new angle. His warm hands on your legs, the heat of his hard body against yours, his fat cock stuffing you full. The sounds he was making. You were incased in pure ecstasy.

Ghost was a whimpering, whining mess above you. The big boy with the skull-face, so dangerous and imposing and deadly, reduced to such a sensitive, desperate being.

He was still whispering things under his breath, eyes periodically closing each time your cunt pulsed around him.

"S-such a pretty girl, my pretty girl," he uttered before a keening moan. "Hah—fuck— mmm—my god."

Already, you noticed the shift in his pace and thrusts; growing sloppier, yet he still nailed that spongey spot inside you that made you dig your nails harder into his back, stretching you tighter.

"Feels good, Si?" You prompted as he flopped his head back into the crook of your neck, hulking figure still pinning your legs to your chest, his hands heavy on your thighs.

"So good," he whispered into your neck. "So good, baby, fuck— 'm not gonna last."

You arched closer into him as the head of his cock kissed your womb. You could feel him in your stomach, and clearly, so could Ghost. He moved backwards, out of your neck, parting your bent legs. He could see the imprint of his cock deep inside you, a small bump in the soft mound of your tummy. He groaned deeply, pressing a hand to it. Then, you both moaned in unison, before he was snapping your legs back against your chest and spearing his cock inside you with newfound vigour.

"Gonna cum Si." You told him, pressing kisses along his face.

"Yeah?" He caught your lips, licking into your mouth for a second. "Yeah, come on then, baby, please."

A thick jumble of come on baby, come on's left his mouth, followed by almost pitiful please's.

You came around his cock as the rain hit the roof, a flash of lightening appearing behind the curtains of your window.

"Simon—!" You gasped.

Your sounds, your smell, your everything was making Ghost go fucking insane. Your cunt squeezed him as you came, your arousal amplifying and slicking each of his desperate movements. His cock sunk in and out of you with wet faps as he barrelled towards his orgasm.

"Hah... hah... fuck— m'gonna— hngh fuck— w-where do you want me?"

He was still so deep inside you. How could you say anything else but; "Inside, please, Si."

"Ah, t-thank fuck—" Ghost muttered, making you smile up at the ceiling, eyes blinking slowly.

His whole body was burning up as his orgasm crashed over him. He thrusted once, twice, getting as deep as he could, as he came inside you. He moaned, stifling it in your neck, rutting himself against you as you were filled with rope after rope of warmth.

"Good boy, Si, so good..." You murmured as he fucked his cum into you, broad figure shuddering as he caught his breath, your fingers raking down his back.

"Fucking hell..." He whispered.

His movements stopped, and the both of you took a moment to catch your breaths. You were still pressed tight to one another, his cock stuffed inside you, barely beginning to soften.

You ran your hands down his back as he released your legs, allowing you to flop them against your bed as he settled on top of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose along the curve of your shoulder and neck, nosing the junction of your jaw below your ear. He placed a kiss to the soft skin.

You both listened to the heavy rain loud against the roof.

"You alright?" You asked, running your fingers through his overgrown military-grade cut. I guess the mask meant he didn't have to get a haircut as often.

He hummed sleepily against you. "Yeah, love."

A beat passed, then; "You alright?"

You smiled. "I'm good. Really good."

He kissed the spot below your ear again. "Good."

Comfortable silence again. Ghost felt as though he was on cloud nine— curled up with you, satiated and happy, his cock still deep inside your cunt, which was now slowly overflowing with his cum, leaking onto the bed. He pressed his nose to the pulse-point near your ear. You smelled so good.

And to top it all off—

"I love you, Si."

He felt his heart explode.

He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

would ghost ever do this "irl"? absolutely not. is this fictional and am i delusional? one hundred percent.

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #ghost x f!reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost call of duty #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #captain’smetallica

2K notes · View notes

manicrouge · 3 months

Text

Christmas Comfort

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 09/02/24)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3.3k

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot). I want all of my stories to be on the same blog so I apologise for the repost.

ANYWAY !! ENJOY !!

Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve.

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground.

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces?

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one.

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better.

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention.

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice.

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest.

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before.

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces. ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours.

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul.

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him.

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen.

All of it can wait. But he can’t.

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him.

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips.

Mum <3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type.

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least.

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade.

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side.

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath.

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows.

Two goldfish are in a tank…

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you.

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I'm proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

236 notes · View notes

mangowafflesss · 11 months

Note

Okay okay hear me out, and this may be a little specific but sweet ex-spec forces now medic reader x Simon where reader kicks some ass.

The 141 knows nothing about reader's past, except for the fact they're a hella good medic. They're kind, gentle, funny, intelligent, fun to be around, etc. and the 141 wants to see what reader can do so maybe they invite reader to the range or they invite reader to spar, and they end up out shooting everyone on the range or end up kicking their sparring partner's ass like its NOTHING. And Ghost/Simon watches it all go down.

Sorry if it's too specific, I just want to see impressed Ghost :,)

I wrote this while on some medication soooo if its shit I do apologise my love from the bottom of my heart

Smiles and gentle touches is what you are. The sweet, sweet medic that lives in their medical office, stitching up the troops and sending them on their way with a smile. The funny jokes you come out with make anyone with the severest of injuries laugh - which may cause more pain.

The innocence of the white coat that envelops you on a daily basis hides a big secret that no one else knows. You parade around in it everyday doing your job and doing one hell of a job too.

You sat reading your book and sipping on your coffee while watching Soap and Gaz spar while Ghost watches and coaches.

You happened to look up and snicker into your mug as you watched Soap get beat and fall to his ass, he heard you and snapped his neck to look at you “And what do you think you’re laughin at lassie?”

“Nothing I just enjoy watching you fall on your ass” you smile at him and he groans while getting up from the ground. "Why don't you come up here? We can teach you some stuff"

"Oh yeah like I could learn anything from the guy who's had his ass beat about 8 times already"

"Come onnnnn, unless... you're chicken?" he starts imitating the sound of a chicken while walking around Gaz and you let out a snort and hold your hands up and walk over to them "Go easy on me though"

He tells you how to stand and then goes through a simple takedown, demonstrating between him and Gaz.

"You got that?" you nod and he begins again "Good. Now, take down Gaz just how we showed you"

You threw a punch at the brunette who dodged it a bit too slow and you grabbed his arm while wrapping your leg around his and bringing him to the ground with a thump. "Like that?" You ask innocently and Soap stands there with his jaw hanging open, you gently push it closed and he snaps out of his trance.

"The fuck was that? Ghost what have you been teaching them?"

Ghost lets out a small laugh from where he stood and comes over, wrapping his arm over your shoulders "That was an ex- special forces officer" he says proudly giving Soap a look of smugness.

"WHAT! Gaz am I hearing this shit correctly our little medic isn't so innocent as I thought"

Gaz wheezes out a cough and sits up giving you a look "No I felt it correctly they're definintely something" his eyes roll back and he flops back on the mat.

"Oh shit. Kyle come on wakey wakey" you say while aiding his side but when he finally comes awake you hand him some water.

Simon looks down at you caring for Gaz after beating him and his heart swells at how amazing you are. You walk back over to him and he takes your hand in his while walking out of the room, he bends down to your ear and talks into it "Should've bet money on it"

"Shame, maybe we can do it to someone else"

"This is why I love you"

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

496 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 5 months

Text

Tell Me How I'm Gonna Die | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader (🍋)

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ okay, the classics, “i wanna know who i’m looking at” with ghost would be very nice 👁️👁️ including mcd, of course ❞

: ̗̀➛ one by one, the members of the 141 and their allies are being picked off and murdered, but who could be behind such a bloody massacre?

: ̗̀➛ swearing, graphic depictions of violence/death/etc, anal sex, sex without lubricant, rough oral, rough sex, breeding kink

: ̗̀➛ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The phone rang loudly, almost looking as if it were going to shake from its position on the wall, when a hand with rough and calloused fingers reached for it; almost middle aged, Sergeant John MacTavish was wearing a light beige knitted jumper and a pair of light blue denim jeans, his mohawk dyed blonde thanks to losing a bet with Captain John Price just three weeks earlier.

He was home on leave for the time being, and wondered who would call at such a time.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” an unknown voice. Maybe it was the wrong number.

John thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yes.”

“Who is this?” The stranger asked, almost curious in nature.

“Who are you trying to reach?” John asked bluntly, pursing his lips slightly.

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” He asked, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you have the wrong number,” John huffed, about to put the phone down.

“Do I?”

“It happens,” John replied, rolling his eyes. “Take it easy.”

He put down the phone with a click to make sure that the call had ended; maybe it was just some neighbourhood children pulling a prank, or just someone trying to reach a friend. He didn’t really care either way as he put a tinfoil dish of popcorn on the stove and started humming to himself.

He didn’t think much of the interaction that had just happened, more than anything just wanting to get on with his evening; he had not been home in so long, and he had missed it.

The slightly affluent, middle class house in a nice and snug suburban neighbourhood; white wallpaper and white tiles adorning all the walls, light grey laminate flooring. Chairs and a table made from actual oak, along with fashionably made matching drawers and white countertops.

A sleek black stove that sat atop a sparkling black oven. A light grey two seater sofa and a large television in the living room. It was a nice, large house and by all means showed off exactly what John earned with his military career.

The portable landline in the kitchen rang loudly, making John groan with discontent as he picked it up to answer it, doing his best to keep an eye on the popcorn.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry,” the unknown voice was back, deep and gruff. “I guess I dialled the wrong number.”

“So why did you do it again?” John huffed, nearly losing his temper as he clenched his jaw.

“To apologise,” the voice soothed.

“You’re forgiven,” John grumbled, rolling his eyes and doing his best not to immediately slam the phone down. “Bye, now.”

“Wait, wait,” the voice sounded desperate. “Don’t hang up.”

John went to look outside the patio, humming at the pitch dark of the garden for a moment; he hoped that the hedgehog house he had built a few summers back was still standing, and was optimistic that it would have drawn a few of the animals in.

“What?” John sighed.

“I wanna talk to you for a second.”

“There’s about nine hundred fuckin’ numbers in this postcode alone,” John pointed out with a harsh bite. “Go fuckin’ bother one of them an’ quit ruinin’ me night.”

This time, he really did slam the phone down, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked over to the popcorn; he gave it a firm shake to make sure that everything was cooking evenly, and knew it would not take long.

The tinfoil was already starting to bubble and force itself upwards. He was just about to head upstairs to get his pyjamas on, when the phone rang again.

“Tae fuck d’you want?!”

“Why don’t you talk to me?”

“Who the fuck is this?” John demanded to know, a scowl upon his lips.

“You tell me your name,” the unknown caller purred. “I’ll tell you mine.”

Rolling his eyes, John went back to his popcorn as he resigned himself to having to talk to the caller. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“What’s that noise?”

He smiled. Maybe it was just someone in the neighbourhood who was lonely; maybe it was the old boy down the street who had lost his wife recently and really was just looking for someone to talk to. “Am making popcorn.”

“You’re making popcorn?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I only eat popcorn at the cinema,” the voice sounded a lot more innocent this time. It probably was just the lonely old man.

“I’m getting ready to watch a few films,” John hummed in return.

“Really?” They sounded quite pleased. “What?”

“Just some shite horror film I found,” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“D’you like horror films?”

“Some are alright,” John mused. “Some are just bullshit, though… I mean, why is the killer always mentally ill? It’s like, y’know, they’re tryin’ to tell us that people with mental illness are all killers, when they really ain’t.”

“What’s your favourite horror film?”

John thought about it for a moment, deciding to sit at the kitchen counter so that he could try and see if any hedgehogs scampered around in the garden. “I dunno.”

“You have to have a favourite, surely.”

“Erm, Halloween. You know, the one with the guy with the white mask who just sorta walks around and stalks the babysitters. What's yours?”

“Guess.”

“Let me guess,” John smiled to himself. “Nightmare On Elm Street?”

“Is that the one where the cunt had finger swords?”

John dared to bark out a soft laugh as he shook his head. “Oh, aye… Fred.”

“That’s right,” the stranger purred. “Freddy Krueger - I liked that one. Proper scary.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” John scoffed. “The first was alrigh’, but the rest? Bunch of shite.”

“So,” the stranger hummed. “You got a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Significant other?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” He laughed.. “You tryin’ to get in my trousers?”

“Maybe… do you have anyone?”

“Nah.”

“You never told me your name.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“You got a nice few hedgehog houses out here,” the stranger hummed. “Don’t you?”

“What?”

“I said I saw some hedgehogs.”

“That ain’t what you said,” John growled. “I gotta go.”

“Don’t hang up on me,” the stranger warned.

John slammed the phone down, shaking his head before going to the door again; he couldn’t see anything, but given how fucking dark it was, he couldn’t say that he was at all surprised.

He clenched his jaw, maybe the stranger was just fucking with him and had walked past his back garden a few times and realised he had hedgehog homes.

Yeah, that was it. That was all it was. He tried to shrug it off, until the phone rang again; clenching his jaw, Soap growled as he picked it up.

“Listen here, ya fuckin’ cunt-”

“No! You listen here you absolute wet wipe!” The stranger snapped. “You hang up on me again and I’ll fuckin’ gut you like a fish! Do you fucking understand?!”

“What kinda bullshit is this?”

“It’s just a little game,” the stranger mused. “That’s all.”

John hummed, shaking his head. “Whaddya want, mate?”

“To see,” the stranger paused, as if grinning. “What your insides look like.”

The doorbell rang, and John shouted from his place near the door. “Who’s there?!”

“Don’t you know not to say who’s there?” The stranger asked. “Don’t you pay attention to films? You’ll get yourself killed.”

John rolled his eyes. Fuck this. “You’ve had your fun, matey - now, please, go onto bonny street and jog the fuck on. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else, I’ll get my boyfriend here,” John snapped. “He’s big, he’s SAS, and he’ll fuckin’ kick your teeth in!”

“I thought you didn’t have anybody.”

“I lied!” John growled. “He’s gonna be here any second!”

“Sure he will… I’m so scared I can’t even hold my cigarette.”

“You best fuck off,” John warned. “He really will kick your ass!”

“His name wouldn’t happen to be Benjamin, now, would it?”

John’s grip on the phone faltered, his hands starting to shake slightly. “How’d you know?”

He nearly dropped the phone as he turned the light on, letting out a scream the second the white light shone through the garden; tied to an old patio chair that John had intended to throw away fucking years ago, was Benjamin himself. Otter.

His head was bleeding, duct tape around his mouth sticky with something red and thick. He was screaming, although it was muttered, and he was still in uniform. John went to grab the other landline.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Where are you?!”

“Why don’t you guess?” The stranger chuckled. “You’re pretty good at that.”

“Please,” John whimpered out, swallowing thickly. “Don’t hurt him…”

“Now,” the stranger seemed so fucking smug. “That all depends on you, Soap… I wanna play a game, just a little fun one.”

“No… please… please… just let him go…”

“Ooh, no can do!” The stranger laughed. “C’mon, it won’t take long… just turn off the light… good boy.”

John growled softly under his breath, swallowing thickly, audibly.

“Here’s the rules,” the stranger purred. “I ask a question, and if you get it right - your pretty little Otter lives.”

John crouched behind the sofa, expecting something to be thrown through the door. “Fine! Fine, you cunt! I’ll play - but only if he lives!”

“Good boy, I knew you’d come around,” the stranger chuckled softly. “First question - name the killed in Red Dragon.”

“Francis Dolarhyde!” John yelped helplessly.

“Good boy!” The stranger purred. “Next question, same category… name Hannibal Lecter’s first victim.”

“Mischa!” John howled. “It was Mischa Lecter!”

“Wrong!” The stranger snapped. “The Nazis killed Mischa and fed her to him! His first victim was Paul Momund, the racist butcher!”

“No! No, it was Mischa!” John protested. “I watched it dozens of times! It was Mischa!”

“If you watched it dozens of times then you would know that Hannibal never touched his sister!” The stranger barked. “But, lucky for you - there’s a bonus round! Poor Otter, though? He’s out.”

“No,” John weakly muttered, running towards the back door just in time. “Please, no.”

John’s screams were loud enough to wake the dead as he gazed at the sight outside; Benjamin’s stomach was sliced open, his head sitting on his lap and his cheeks missing. Bitten out.

By instinct alone, John ran outside, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked over Benjamin’s body. The blood seeping onto his hands and making the phone slip when he picked it up again.

“You fucking cunt!” John howled. “You fucking bastard!”

“Final question, Soap.”

“No!”

“Do you wanna fucking end up like your boyfriend?!” The stranger didn’t wait for him to answer, already knowing. “What door am I at?”

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

“There’s two doors to your house, Soap,” they explained, “there’s the back door, where your boyfriend has so beautifully brought to life a scene from Hannibal Rising, and the front door… where… am… I?”

John didn’t dare to hesitate, grabbing the knife from the kitchen counter and steadying himself by the back door; even now, he could feel his training begin to kick in as he tried to hide himself as well as he could.

He worked out that the stranger would likely be at the front door, but when he began heading towards it, there was an almighty crash as the chair that Benjamin was in came thudding through, spraying the clear sharp shards everywhere, one landing in Soap’s arm as he desperately tried to make his way to an escape.

Without thinking, John headed through the new hole, running straight for the corner of the garden with all the speed and strength that he could muster, dropping the phone in the process.

But he was caught by a black leather glove, taking control of his wrist and easily overpowering him; John looked up, his light grey eyes meeting large, black, eyes upon a ghostly white mask.

John screamed, hoping it would at least catch them off guard.

But they brandished their own knife, and slowly cut along his forearm, forcing him to drop his knife and watch as it clattered to the floor. John tried to wriggle through, but the stranger grabbed his neck, and forced him down onto the ground.

Straddling his waist as they used one hand to strangle him as he slowly lost the will and the urge to fight back.

A flash of silver. A deep cut across the flesh of his chest, staining his light jumper so easily.

With ease, the stranger grabbed his leg, and began to drag him away, towards the tree; a rope was already hanging from one of the old and withered branches. All they had to do was hang it around his neck; with his final gasp of breath, John raised his hand, and grabbed the mask, his weak eyes growing slightly wide.

“You…”

The stranger nodded, grinning at him. “Me.”

The stranger hoisted John’s body up, slipping the noose around his neck before beating his stomach with the knife until his entrails spilled out; grabbing the bloodied mask, they hummed, admiring their handiwork for a moment before leaving again.

Home time.

Inside the dusty old garage, the fridge was open, and the wooden steps leading into it were silent despite their age and the recent windy weather; although muffled, it was clear to hear the guests in the next room over.

Simon Riley was late, as always, this time he blamed traffic instead of his significant other who he was bringing with him.

Kyle Gaz Garrick was sitting on the sofa with Farah Karim and Alex Killer, watching an old repeat of Friday the 13th on the television in the living room; they all called out in unison when the protagonists made a fatal mistake.

Inside the garage, though, Captain John Price - a handsome man for his age, grey littering his beard, moustache, mutton chops and hair - was rooting through the old fridge for the drinks that he had bought. Nothing fancy, just some off-brand lemonade and a few energy drinks.

They were all on edge, after the recent murder of one of their own - John Soap MacTavish - but it was understandable that they would be; that’s why they had all gathered at Price’s sprawling and large home in the countryside outside of Liverpool - safety in numbers, and all that.

A few tools fell, and Price immediately pressed his back against the fridge, scowling; he had forgotten to lock the cat door that he had installed.

There were so many left abandoned outdoors, he converted his garage into a little safe haven for them to come and go as they pleased - yet when he had guests over, he always locked it.

With a sigh of relief, he watched the cat scramble away and run through the door, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Bollocks! Easy, John, you’re alright,” he told himself, putting his hand to his chest. “Fuckin’ cats.”

He grabbed the drinks he had promised the others, although when he reached it, he found that it had been locked; furrowing his brows, he figured that maybe Gaz or Farah had locked it in order to keep everybody safe - after all, Price did say to keep all the doors and windows locked.

He was glad that they actually paid attention to what he had said, but he wasn’t exactly happy to be locked in his own garage.

“Fuck… oi! You fucking bellends! I’m still in here!”

Carefully, so as not to shake them, Price set the drinks down on his workbench, and went to turn the light on; it didn’t work, even though he had only replaced the bulbs two weeks ago. He frowned. Maybe it was a blown fuse.

He figured it was nothing huge, so he flicked the switch to lift the garage door, and headed towards it; the drinks could wait, he could grab them when he unlocked the garage door again once he was inside the house.

It was slowly opening, rutting and spluttering as it did so, but then it suddenly slammed down in front of him.

Sighing, Price pinched the bridge of his nose. “I fucking thought I fixed that… for fuck’s sake!”

He turned around, about to head for the switch again, when he saw a tall figure in a black robe, donned in a white mask. Price rolled his eyes as he scoffed.

“Oh, bugger off, Gaz!” He was trying not to smile.

The killer shook their head, silent as they dropped their head slightly.

“Cute, very cute,” Price chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “But what’s this from? Jason Takes Liverpool?”

The killer didn’t even move.

“Lose the getup, lad,” he told him sternly. “Halloween ain’t for another year. You missed it, and you look like a knob.”

The killer shook their head again.

“Oh, alright, I get it,” Price laughed, grinning. “You wanna play serial killer?”

The killer nodded.

“I’m guessing you want me to be the innocent bloke that gets stabbed?”

Another nod.

“Alright, let’s see…” Price clapped his hands once before humming to himself. “Fuck no Mr. Ghostface don’t kill me I want to be in the sequel! How’s that?”

A curt nod.

“Alright, playtime’s over,” he told them with a soft laugh. “C’mon, cut the shit, we should get back to the others - they’re probably thirstier than a skunk on a Tuesday.”

The killer planted their hand against the doorframe, blocking it.

“What the fuck are you doing, Gaz?”

Grabbing his arm, the killer brandished their stained knife, and slashed his wrist across the fine skin with ease; recoiling, Price furrowed his brows.

“What the fuck?!”

He backed away quickly, opening the freezer of the fridge so that it slammed into the killer’s crotch, making them grunt and double over for a moment; he grabbed some old glass bottles that he had intended to turn into lights, and hurled them at the killer as hard as he could.

“Cunt!”

He ran to the door in the garage, but only managed to get his head through, his shoulders trapped by the narrow angles as he grunted and growled, struggling and kicking his legs; he could feel the floor beneath him fading away, and snarled out a few choice phrases as he struggled even more.

Feeling pressure slowly sink onto his neck. A harsh crack echoed throughout the garage, and the killer gave his leg a firm tug before letting themselves into the house through the door.

They were quick, discarding the clothes in the cupboard but keeping the mask in their back pocket before escaping out into the back garden. Immediately, you ran up to them, and hugged them tightly as you grinned.

“How’d you do?”

“Pretty well,” Ghost agreed with a smile, nodding as he put his arm around your shoulders. “I did miss your voice, though.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you put your hand on his chest for a moment. “It’s a shame you’re not covered in blood this time.”

Eyeing you for a moment, Ghost took a look around, and redirected you towards the bottom of the garden. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you licked your lips, breath hitching at the mere thought. “I fucking love it when you get covered in blood, you know that.”

“Do you want me to wear the mask this time?” He asked, and when you asked him to, he grinned. “I thought so…”

You were more than ready and willing, dropping to your knees the second that he stopped walking; already eagerly holding onto his belt as you let out a shaky sigh. “C’mon, Simon, please?”

“Hang on,” he chuckled, slipping the mask back on. He fumbled with his belt, taking another quick look around before pushing down his trousers and boxers. “Go on, then, baby, show me how much you like it.”

You immediately jumped at the chance, taking his cock in your hand and stroking it as you nuzzled into it; huffing the thick scent and looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. “Like this?”

“Fuck,” Ghost growled softly, resisting the urge to grab the back of your neck and force his cock down your throat. “You’re so good to me.”

You smiled, peppering his cock with kisses from the tip to the base before wrapping your lips around the tip and licking his slit. “Can I keep going?”

“Don’t stop until I tell you to,” he demanded, waiting for you to slowly start taking him in your mouth before he pushed down on the back of your neck, bucking his hips quickly.

Fucking your mouth as hard and as fast as he could until he could feel your tears slowly dripping onto his skin; he couldn’t resist it, tilting his head back and groaning softly as he closed his eyes in bliss and kept using your mouth like his own personal little fucktoy.

You gagged when he hit the back of your throat too many times, but you didn’t stop, and you didn’t tap his thigh twice either so he knew that he could keep going; roughly he pushed you away from his cock, and groaned softly as he looked at you on his knees for him.

“I need to fuck you,” Ghost growled. “Now.”

You grinned, nodding eagerly as you got on your hands and knees; you allowed him to help you push down your trousers and underwear, baring your ass so eagerly. “Please, Mister Ghostface. Fuck me.”

Ghost softly groaned, giving his cock a few good firm strokes before he lined himself up; it was so fucking painful, the girth of his cock stretching your ass out and making you whimper as you gripped the ground so harshly that your knuckles audibly clicked.

Ghost paused only for a moment before grabbing your hips as hard as he could, his fingernails easily breaking the skin slightly; he didn’t wait for much longer, pistoning into you until you fell flat on your stomach, begging for him to keep going between thick and needy breaths.

He was pounding into you, rutting and caring for little else but his own pleasure; but you needed it, you needed every inch and every single droplet that he had to offer.

When he grabbed your throat, leaning over you with his phone in his hand, you moaned so loudly that he had to take his hand from your throat in order to slap it onto your mouth.

“Smile for the camera,” he whispered in your ear, grinning when you made direct eye contact with it just as he pressed the screen to take the picture.

He put the phone back into his pocket, and pressed one hand against the back of your neck, the other keeping your hip ever so propped up as he fucked you so hard that you could feel yourself moving with every thrust; whimpering every time he nearly pulled out and needing him to fill you with every inch and every droplet all the same.

Fuck. He was so rough, so hard, and when you felt him put more pressure on your neck, you couldn't help but to moan so loudly that it was almost a scream.

He was fucking filling you, and you knew that wouldn't last with how he wasn't even fucking you, he was using you; treating you like little more than a fleshlight.

“Ghostface!” You whimpered so softly. “I'm gonna- fuck! I'm close!”

“Wait for me to cum,” Ghost demanded, picking up his pace and getting both faster and rougher with you. As much as he could be, like he was chasing something that he desperately desired. Needed. Craved.

But fuck, when your ass started to clench around him, he couldn't stop it, his movements sloppy and his voice rough as he continued to demand everything of you.

The worst part was that you were eager to give it, even though you did miss the feeling of blood dripping onto you, the thick scent of copper and the taste of it on your tongue when you so lovingly lapped it from the flesh of his chest.

Even thinking about it was driving you over the edge.

Yet, when Ghost came in you, you could only whimper and push back against him.

“Breed me!” You cried softly. “Please, Ghostface, please, breed me!”

Ghost grinned behind the mask, pinning you down and continuing to fuck you as he filled you up so eagerly; he could hear the squelch as he continued to fuck it into you, reaching around and palming at your crotch to push you further and further.

Everything went white. A slight ringing in your ears as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your mouth open and drool slipping from the corner.

Your grip on the ground grew tight once more, knuckles clicking audibly and harshly as you panted his name so desperately and with such awful need.

Ghost didn't stop until you had cum twice, only daring to pull out once he was sure that you were close to collapsing; bliss on your face, he eagerly smacked your ass, and chuckled darkly as he stood up.

“C'mon,” he growled lowly. “There's three of them inside, we can take them.”

You whimpered, taking a moment to steady yourself before you slowly got up, able to feel how stuffed you were as you moaned softly and grinned. “Kiss me.”

Ghost was all too eager to do so, grabbing the back of your neck harshly as he pulled you in for a breathy, open mouthed, kiss. “You're so good for me, you know… you take Gaz. I'll take Alex. We’ll get Farah together.”

You nodded, fixing yourself up before heading over to where you had left your costume; you allowed Ghost to go before you, knowing that he would find a way to split the group left in the house somehow.

As you were getting kitted up, you could see Ghost doing the same inside, and blew him a sweet kiss before you pulled your mask on.

Giddy, you allowed him to split the group by setting a fire in the kitchen; Gaz ran outside, right into your tracks. You were quick, pouncing on him and plunging the knife into his back. All the breath left his body as he tried to grasp, falling down and going limp almost immediately.

You smiled, giving him a firm kick to make sure he was dead before you ran into the house.

Ghost had Alex on the floor, and had slashed him very well; his thighs were all cut up, his arm was split into two down the middle, his scalp was missing.

Yet Ghost was still going, carving and slashing without a single care until he saw you and nodded.

You found Farah hiding in the bedroom, and grabbed her arm roughly as you brought her down into the kitchen; Ghost had killed the fire, and helped you to corner her against the counter.

“What the fuck do you want?! Who the fuck are you?!”

“Surprise,” you grinned as you removed the mask, leaning into Ghost's side.

“Evening, Farah,” Ghost chuckled, removing his own.

She looked between both of you, her mouth agape. “Why?”

“We figured it was the best way,” you hummed with a shrug.

“We were bored,” Ghost explained, putting his arm over your shoulders, “there wasn't really much for us when we were on leave.”

“But you were our family!” She cried, tears streaming down her face.

“No!” You snapped. “Soap, Gaz and Price were family! We were left out!”

Ghost nodded in agreement. “Besides, who needs a motive nowadays?”

“You two have watched far too many films,” she said quietly.

“Well,” you hummed. “That's the thing, innit? There's always been serial killers, but films? A great source of inspiration.”

“It's just a shame,” Ghost added. “They always blame it on people with mental illness - schizophrenia. Psychosis. But that's not the people doing it.”

“Absolutely not,” you agreed. “The only thing that makes you a killer, is wanting to kill.”

“But, unfortunately for you,” Ghost brandished his knife and grinned. “We've gotta kill you.”

“Me and Simon will be the only ones who survived a horrible, bloody massacre,” you grinned. “We managed to escape.”

“Like fuck you did!”

You both turned around, seeing Gaz brandishing a gun as he steadied himself against the door. He didn't even hesitate, pulling the trigger twice. Two bodies thumped to the ground, holes in between their eyes.

“I thought they'd never shut up,” Farah breathed out, immediately running over to Gaz and holding him tightly. “Are you alright?”

Gaz slumped down, sitting against the doorframe. “Yeah, yeah, I think so… fuck, that hurt…”

“They got Alex…” she whispered. “My brother…”

Gaz frowned, holding her hand as tightly as he could. “It's alright… we're still alive.”

“I need to call someone,” she pressed.

“I already covered it,” he groaned softly. “I saw Price…”

Slowly, Farah sat beside him, and rested her head against his shoulder as she gave his hand a small squeeze; she sniffled, but as much as she would miss her brother, she knew that she at least had Gaz there.

Gaz closed his eyes, too weak to mourn as he sniffled. He was just glad he had Farah.

67 notes · View notes

roundhousekickingheight · 2 years

Note

Me playing the sims and Simon mourning Athena's death got me thinking... horrible AU where Turnabout For Tomorrow played out differently, he was proven innocent, yet she was not acquitted. There was nothing he could do, he was already proven innocent for the death of Metis, yet she was found to be guilty for the death of Clay. He could no longer protect her, and she ultimately gets executed while he has to live on.

He would then have to live with the fact that both of the Cykes' blood is on his hands, it was indirectly his fault that Metis died (she was helping him hunt down the Phantom, she got involved and died as a punishment; I bet he would feel so guilty about this, feel as if he was the one who killed her). Now he failed to be Athena's protector, and failed to do the thing he spent seven years to do, almost gave his life for. For what purpose would he even want to live anymore? Yes, he has Aura, but she would be behind bars. He would have virtually no one, and he would think it was all his fault. Also, picture him requesting a channelling to see them again and how distraught he would be, how would you even face the one you believe you failed? Felt the need to share this thought with someone, I apologise.

DEAR GOD PUFFLE YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME. IM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR MONTHS.

not only did his one wish of the past seven years just completely disappear, but now he’s free without feeling like he should be at all. even though he knows he didn’t kill anyone, he figures he might as well have. after all, most of the people he’d consider family are dead, and the ones who aren’t really aren’t in any better a situation. he can’t help but notice he’s the common link here. knowing he was protecting athena by shouldering the blame got him through prison. because of that, being out in the world is harder than seven years of jail ever could be. to himself, he failed, it’s as simple as that.

#i cant tell if any of this is coherent im exhausted and i have too many thoughts about this now #aus where the characters don’t succeed in their main mission always hurt so much #and i always willingly and gladly inflict them upon myself anf others #ace attorney

5 notes · View notes

yourlmanburg · 3 years

Text

benchsquad meetup // benchtrio (& others) + reader

i know nothing about london zoo

word count: 1,485

(this hasn't been proofread or anything pls forgive how bad it is smh)

---

You hadn’t felt excitement like this since you received your invite to the Dream SMP, barely containing your smile as you sat on the train on your way to spend the day with your three best friends. You’d known Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy for a good few months now after you met them through the server, and your friendship quickly solidified and morphed into an iconic group known as the “Bench Squad”, and today was the day you’d finally be meeting them in person.

It’d been agreed that you’d meet in London, film a Tom Simons vlog, and then meet up with Wilbur, Philza, Jack and Niki to film another vlog for your own channel before spending a few nights at Tubbo’s house. You had a busy few days ahead of you filled with recording and streaming but you couldn’t care less; you knew these were about to be the best days of your life. You passed the time with your airpods in your ears with your guys’ collab Spotify playlist blasting through your ears and catching up on missed vods and YouTube videos, when eventually the train came to a halt at your stop.

This was it. You were about to meet the people who meant the most to you.

You pulled out your bags as quickly as you could, not wasting a single second that could instead be spent with them. Shoving through the congregation of people and stopping one or twice to greet fans who recognised you, you made your way over to a less crowded area of the train station to shoot Ranboo a quick “where are you?” text. It took a few anxious minutes for him to reply, but once he did there was nothing stopping you from practically running to where they waited.

And there they were. You could see them not too far away now, two tall figures and a slightly smaller one stood in a row, looking around as if they were waiting for someone. It was then that you were struck with an idea, what if you just…

You snuck round to the other side of where they stood, making an effort not to be seen. You crouched down a little and creeped towards them, praying none of them turned round.

“BOO!” you shouted, successfully scaring the three of them and even a few poor strangers around you. With a smile you jumped straight into Ranboo’s arms, and you held each other tightly as the four of you grinned like children on Christmas day.

“Y/n!” Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed in unison, while Ranboo simply commented on the pun you accidentally made. You chuckled as you pulled away, wiping the tears from your eyes and readjusting your bags. This is the moment you’d been waiting for for so many months now.

“How was the journey?” Tommy asked after you’d greeted them properly and had begun to make your way out of the train station and to the location of where the vlog was going to be filmed.

“Wasn’t too bad, it was a bit scary doing it on my own and it took way too long but it could’ve been worse, I guess.” you replied, the smile seemingly glued to your face. “Where are we going again?”

“This way,” Tommy led you through many busy roads and you really wished you had somewhere to put your bags, which is why you were grateful when Ranboo offered to carry one of them for you. You thanked him profusely, rubbing your sore shoulder from where the heaviest bag had been resting. It took a while to get there so Tommy decided to film the vlog intro while you were all walking, though soon enough you found yourselves standing outside the great entrance to London Zoo.

“Here we are,” Tommy said as he held his phone up to the sign, clearly out of breath from all the walking, “We’re at the zoo!” he showed you and the other two on camera and you all waved, just as worn out as he was.

You went in and got all the registration sorted, and now you were free to do as you pleased! As you walked into the main area the gorilla enclosure immediately caught your eyes and you ran to see them, Tubbo in tow. Tommy started complaining to the camera as he caught up to you and Ranboo simply laughed, standing back and watching the “argument” you two were putting on for content.

The four of you walked around the zoo for a while, filming the majority of it and laughing and joking around with each other. You were having the time of your life, and it was far from over; you couldn’t wait to meet the others.

“Hold on a minute…” you interrupted Tommy filming Tubbo trying to get an Alpaca’s attention as a certain species caught your eye, and being close to the one and only Wilbur Soot made it impossible to miss. “Are they anteaters?”

“Thank God Wilbur’s not here, huh!” Ranboo chimed in, walking over and standing beside you. This still didn’t feel real.

“Can we go and see them?” Tubbo asked, but there was hardly a chance of anyone saying no. So now you were on FaceTime with Wilbur (who was already with Niki) as he gushed about how much he hated those damn creatures, pulling up the infamous list. None of you could stop laughing rather loudly and you certainly got many dirty looks, but you didn’t care.

The aquarium was quite something, too. One of the staff members got particularly mad at Tommy for tapping on the glass and shouting at the fish while you recorded him for a bit, which was definitely a sight to see. Needless to say, you rushed right past that woman the next time you guys saw her.

You saw so many incredible animals and had so many laughs with your friends, and you didn’t leave until late afternoon. It didn’t really matter though, there wasn’t much planned for your vlog. You guys made your way out of the exit and caught a taxi to take you to another place, wrapping up Tommy’s filming there. You admittedly almost fell asleep, but the calm conversation you were having with Tubbo kept you awake.

The taxi eventually pulled up outside a post restaurant which is where your vlog was going to be filmed. You didn’t choose anything too extravagant, the plan was for a short but entertaining video with you and your friends. It took about ten minutes of standing and waiting for the other four to turn up. First it was Philza, of course he was the only one on time. You suspected Niki would’ve been too, but she was probably being held up by Jack and Wilbur.

“OLD MAN!” you shouted, zooming in on him as the first clip of your vlog. He burst out laughing as he greeted you, asking if the others were here yet. “Nope! Bet they won’t be here for another two hours.” you joked, stopping the recording and talking to Phil and the others until they did eventually turn up.

Soon enough all eight of you were sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant, trying to decide what on earth you were going to order. You were squished in between Ranboo and Wilbur which made you feel particularly small, and Tommy was laughing at you from the other side of the table, Niki jokingly scolding him for being mean.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” he retorted, amping up his personality for the camera again.

“Neither did Y/n and you’re being mean to them!” Niki said, a smile evident on her face as you caught her eyes and laughed.

“Thank you, Niki, I believe Tommy should learn his lesson from a responsible adult.” you thanked her, Wilbur tuning in from his conversation with Ranboo, Tubbo, Phil and Jack.

“Tommy, stop being a dick.” He said bluntly, causing you all to burst out laughing.

“I agree.” Jack said with a deadpan face, earning an eye roll from Tommy.

“Oh, shut up Manifold!” He whined, failing to notice the very confused waitress standing over the table, waiting to take everybody’s orders. Phil was, of course, the one to apologise for all the commotion and you all took turns to let her know what you wanted, going straight back to your previous antics the moment she left.

You left the restaurant hated by most people who were in there, and you all found it funnier than it really was. You said goodbye to the adults and finished up your very chaotic vlog, making your way to another train station and taking the train back to Tubbo’s house. You got back quite late and all of you pretty much immediately crashed after such a busy yet fulfilling day. And it was the first of many.

#reader insert #x reader #platonic x reader #ranboo x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #philza x reader #nihachu x reader #jack manifold x reader #are those the right tags #i just don't want them in the general mcyt area #mcyt x reader

268 notes · View notes

remuslupins-lover · 3 years

Text

simon kalivoda fluff

(simonxfem!reader)

[WARNING: includes y/n being insecure of her body, mentions of sh (self harm) ]

“and remember, not a single drop of- and they’re gone.” josh sighed, “they’re horny lesbians, josh, they wanna get fucked before they die.” i said making simon laugh and give me a high five. “that’s not funny!” josh said angrily, “we aren’t dying!” he added on. “you never know!” i defended myself, “none of you are gonna die!” josh repeated.

walking past josh and giving him a ‘are you sure?’ look. “what do you wanna wear?” kate asked me, giving me the option to pick first,

“this blue-” i began, “nope i have been eyeballing that since i saw the bin.” simon said, taking the shirt. “like how josh has been eyeballing kate.” he whispered in my ear making me hold back a giggle.

“okay then i’ll take this shirt and these sweatpants.” i took a black shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. “oh, well would you look at that! there’s a stain on the crotch area.. is there anything else?” i sighed. kate threw me a pair or shorts that were obviously too big for me, they were men’s shorts. “hey that’s mine!” simon said out of nowhere. “why are your shorts in the lost and found bin?” i asked.

“remember that one time i went to school with shorts for like half a day?” he asked making me nod. “i took it off for a dare and they ended up taking it..” he trailed off. i didn’t know whether to be mad or if i should be laughing.

“it’s what you get for being a dumbass, right kate-”

josh and kate were going in the same bathroom.

“go josh?” simon said in a confused tone. “just go into your own ba-” i began but quickly stopped when i realised there were only 2.

“i’m not going in the girls bathroom, how much you wanna bet they’re having sex?” i fake vomited. “get in the men’s bathroom with me.” simon said, already pulling me. “no! are you serious? what if someone catches me in there?!” i asked, coming up with any reason to not go in the men’s bathroom with simon.

“who’s gonna catch us? hall monitors? all four of them are getting fucked they don’t give a shit.” he said, before i knew it i was in a stall.

i cleaned up all the blood i can see. no doubt my back has some blood, how am i gonna reach it without having simon involved? there was no other way.

“uh.. simon” i cleared my throat. “yea?” his voice cracked. “can you -uh- come in and check if i have any blood on my back?” i asked. “s-sure.” he stuttered.

he went to open the door but it was locked. “y/n? you good? the stall is locked.” why would she lock the door it’s only me in the bathroom.

“sorry, force of habit.” i apologised, opening the door slowly. once he came into view i covered my stomach with my hand and tried to hide my thighs all at once. he saw my body a billion times we’ve been friends since kindergarten.

i slowly turned around, shivered when his cold hand touched my neck, he moved my hair and when he saw i had nothing he cleared his throat, “you’re blood-free.”

“don’t think so.” i said turning around, “sam’s blood free.” he corrected himself. “there we go.” i smiled.

we fell into a comfortable silence.

i caught myself staring at his eyes, who knew one could have such beautiful eyes? they were so captivating, i almost felt obliged to move closer to him. i could feel his breath. we were so close to each other that if one of us moved a centimeter we would’ve bumped into each other.

“you have pretty eyes.” i blurted out, internally cursing myself. “you’re pretty.” he added, his eyes searching mine; trying to see if i too had the same intentions as him.

it was taking too long, he was taking too long. i closed the gap between us and kissed him. “this a good time to tell you i had a crush on you since 3rd grade?” he breathed, pulling out of the kiss. “this a good time to tell you i’ve had a crush on you since 2nd?” i smirked.

he picked me up and sat me on the sink. my thighs doubled their size and suddenly my scars were much more visible. i tried to cover them up, but he removed my hands.

“you are beautiful” he reassured me, kissing each and every scar. he kissed my bikini line, right on my hips. “you’re crazy if you think i don’t know about these.” he scoffed.

i looked him in the eyes, tears beginning to fall.

“did i say something? god, i’m sorry-”

i pulled him into a kiss. “god, i love you.” i confessed with a sigh. he kissed my tears away. “i love you more.” he replied with a smile. “not sure that’s possible.” i shot back. “pretty sure it is.” he argued.

someone was bagging on the door, making me hold onto simon because i almost slipped.

“what are you guys doing in there? quick get out!” we heard kate yell.

“jeez, someone’s angry.” simon said, pulling on his blue jumper and his pants. “tell me about it.” i scoffed, wearing the shorts that belong to my crush and a shirt that belongs to someone.

simon and i got out of the bathroom to be greeted by an angry kate.

“i thought you were supposed to feel good and happy after sex.” i whispered to simon. “me too, i mean, we didn’t even have sex and i’m over the moon.” he whispered back.

“i can hear you!” kate sighed. “oh.” simon and i chorused.

sam and deena came with their hair messed up, my mascara was ruined, and kate was obviously stressing out over the fact if her best friend is okay with her and her brother dating.

“damn, did everyone go to pound town?” simon snorted making me laugh. “we missed out bud.” i told him. “did we really?” he looked me in the eyes, still smiling, with that look i adored. my smile dropped, i wanted him to ruin me, “no- i guess not.” i blushed.

“i wonder what happened between them.” sam whispered to deena, “they almost got fucked.” deena answered. “but they didn’t?” sam said. “i guess not, it’s kinda like the -uh- the confession part of whatever they got going on.” deena shrugged.

“do they think we’re deaf?” i whispered to simon who nodded in response, “probably.”

i suck tbh idk what this is i’m not proofreading it cause cramps suck!! everything and everyone BUT simon suck <33

#simon kalivoda #fear street #simon x reader #horror #fypシ #viral #movies #writing

96 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Leave No One Behind

Ch 14- Well, fuckin’ Shalom.

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: After another dangerous encounter with Ahmed’s troops, Ari is back into a corner and comes out fighting.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) Violence, angst and death.

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

A/N: It’s Hannah’s birthday today so Happy Birthday, Firefly!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

Ari pushed a grumbling Simon off his face and sat up, trying not to move too much. Once out of bed, he stretched before sorting himself out in the bathroom and dressing as quickly and as quietly as possible so as not to wake Hannah who was, thankfully, fast asleep.

After the events of the previous day, when Rachel had gotten him and Sammy out of jail and they had driven back to the resort only to find Ethan was shutting them down, Ari had had a rough night, memories of the ordeal making his already light sleep almost impossible at times. He had spent a few hours wide awake in the dark, lying still to avoid disturbing Hannah, simply staring at the ceiling of their hut as his restless mind continued to deny him a peaceful sleep.

He had been, and somehow still was, physically and emotionally exhausted. The mere thought that Hannah had intended on ending what they had just a few hours ago still made him shudder. Following their heartfelt conversation on the dock they’d stumbled into the hut, and he’d loved her softly, slowly and intimately in the shower before they’d collapsed into bed. All of that combined with the whispered sweet nothings they had shared in the still of their hut might tell a different story, but Ari was well aware he had fucked up and almost lost her a second time.

And it made him sick to his stomach.

Ari shook his head, a reflex action, almost as if it would shake the thoughts from his mind and he sighed gently into the quiet of the hut as he finished buckling the laces on his trainers, turning from where he was sat at the edge of their bed to look at his Firefly sleeping with Simon who had curled up by her side. He smiled softly at the scene as he leaned in to place a loving kiss on her head before leaving the hut.

A few minutes later, Ari emerged in the breakfast area after a short stroll down the beach. The bruises and cuts on his face and over his left cheekbone were beginning to heal but the dull sting of his skin was a clear reminder of what had gone down in that prison cell in Khartoum and the depth of Sammy’s anger towards him. Still, as arranged the previous night, Sammy showed up along with Jake and Max early so no one else was around. As he brewed a pot of coffee, Ari went over his plan to set off to find Kabede and explained his last-minute decision to only take Max and Sammy with him, leaving Jake in charge of the resort and the girls. He wasn’t willing to take any risks after the events of their last mission only a couple of days before.

“Don’t lose sight of them, Jake. However feisty they get, especially Hannah.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Jake agreed as he took the mug Ari was handing him and Max snorted.

“You know she’s gonna give him a hard time, right?”

“I don’t much care.” Ari snapped at Max with a stern voice, causing the man to raise his hands in mock surrender. At that Jake sighed so Ari turned to look at him, his voice softer. “If she’s getting an attitude, tell her to take it up with me when I’m back. There’s a reason why her and Rachel don’t know where we’re going. And they won’t need to either until it’s done.”

As he finished instructing Jake on how to act upon a more than probable tantrum on Hannah’s part, Ari could clearly see Sammy rolling his eyes.

“More lies, huh.”

“Will you stop with your comments, Sammy?” Ari groaned. He’d had enough of the man’s accusatory looks and snarky comments to last him a lifetime. “I get it, you hate me, you already made your point.” And to make his, Ari gestured to the bruising around his face.

Sammy didn’t answer, but simply maintained giving his so-called best friend a cold stare until Max’s groan put an end to the war of deadly stares.

“Come on guys. This is it, we’ll be out of here in a few days. Let’s go find Kabede, give him the news and-” he sighed, “-wrap it up and get out of this fucking sandpit.”

Ari looked at Max at he spoke and then back at Sammy who scoffed and, without so much as a word, started walking to the jeep as he lit a cigarette.

Ari looked down and sighed, hands on his hips before his head tipped up to the sky. He then turned to Max, who simply shrugged and stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth as he followed Sammy.

***

When Hannah woke later that morning, she instinctively turned and reached for Ari, missing his touch. She was used to waking up him either holding her from behind, sometimes peppering kisses on the back of her neck or, as the case usually was, hearing him groaning and cursing as he pushed Simon off the mutt’s preferred sleeping pillow, his face. But that morning there was nothing, because Ari wasn’t there. Blinking she laid still, listening for any sound that gave his whereabouts away, but she could hear nothing at all, no sounds of the taps running, or the water from the shower splashing down into the tray. Frowning, she stretched her arm and her hand felt Ari’s side of the bed to find it was cold, well, as cold as it could be in a beach hut in Sudan with no air-con.

As she sat up, Hannah thought to herself that the most likely explanation was that Ari had just gotten up and gone for a run after he had been unable to sleep following the events of the previous thirty-six hours or so. He’d been restless all night, and no matter what she had tried to do to help, and she had to admit she had tried a lot of things to help him relax so to speak, Ari couldn’t settle completely.

Hannah sighed, remembering her attempts to soothe her Lobo’s uneasiness as her eyes roamed the hut and when her eyes landed on Ari’s bedside table she noticed his watch wasn’t on it. He never wore his watch when he went running as it irritated him but, strangely enough, his running trainers were gone too so she was at an utter loss.

“Where’s your daddy, huh?” She asked softly as she looked at Simon who moved his tail and gave a little yawn and a huff in response making her chuckle, scratching his ear. “You couldn’t care less, huh?”

Pondering, Hannah got up and, after washing and dressing, she went outside. The sun was particularly scorching that morning and she had to pull her shades down as she greeted some of the guests who were already milling about. But as hard as she tried to spot Ari, there was no sign of him on the beach. She made her way to the main building, Simon hot on her tracks, and found Jake and Rachel serving breakfast.

“You slept in.” Rachel said as she greeted her with a warm smile.

“Yeah sorry, must have been tired after everything. Guy was tossing and turning all night.” She apologised in her thick, Spanish accent, as she looked around at the various tables sporting the guests. “Where is everyone else?”

“Luca says the guys went to the market.” Rachel deadpanned, but Hannah could read the disbelief behind her words so she frowned at the blonde woman.

“To the market? Ari?” She scoffed, dropping her voice. “And with my brother?” Hannah then turned to look at Jake who had approached them but he only shrugged as she arched her brow. “You’re full of shit.”

“Hey, that’s what they told me, Red.” He repeated as he started walking into the kitchen area to fetch another tray of toast.

“Where are they really?” Hannah inquired, following him.

“Told you. Market.” Jake answered as he left the tray on the serving counter by the kitchen.

Hannah noticed he was avoiding her stare and when their eyes met for a split second she took advantage of it and glared at him. “I know you’re lying.” She hissed.

But Jake wasn’t going to give in that easily. Whilst he feared Hannah’s rant, he also feared Ari’s should he blow their cover, so he was determined to play the part he had been asked to till the very end. Thus, he had no choice but to shrug again, the expression on his face unreadable, and keep on with his breakfast duty- to bring a pot of coffee to a guest table.

Hannah huffed in frustration and turned to Rachel. “Do you believe him?”

“Not a single word.” Rachel smiled

“Then where the hell...” she began to ask, more to herself than to her friend and team mate. And the frown on her face softened as her eyes opened wide when it suddenly dawned on her what was really happening and she groaned.

“Kabede.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Rachel nodded with a little sigh.

“What the fuck... why didn’t they tell us?” Hannah scoffed, her hands laying on her hips. And Rachel thought she couldn’t look more like Ari when she did that even if she tried.

“I’m betting on Ari’s stupid sense of protection.” Rachel shrugged.

“Yeah well, he’s gonna be the one needing protection when he comes home. Fucking asshole.” Hannah growled as she grabbed a piece of toast and chewed it, angrily.

****

When Ari, Max and Sammy reached the shanty town, it was instantly apparent something was wrong. They found Kabede slumped against a wall, a stab wound to his chest that Sammy suspected had resulted in a punctured lung. But his injury was completely forgotten by the man when Ari informed him that Mossad had pulled the plug on the mission.

“Mission? This is not a mission for me. This is my life. My family. You go.”

Ari was torn. Kabede was right, this was more than a mission. It had been his life for two years and on top of that, he wasn’t sure he could go back to Israel knowing that they were leaving over three hundred innocent lives behind to their fate at the hands of a tyrannical regime which, most likely, would torture and kill them once they were found.

Ari swallowed and looked at Max and Sammy, jerking his head and the three of them headed out of the hut into the heat of the sun.

“You wanna pull off one last rescue, don’t you?” Max asked once they were outside.

Ari looked at him and it was all the answer he needed to give as Sammy groaned at his silence.

“I can't force you guys to do this one. This is up to you. You know the risks.” Ari spoke calm but determined, his mind made up.

“I'm in.” Max deadpanned as he nodded.

Ari then turned to Sammy who rolled his eyes. He looked back at Max and asked him to give Sammy and him some alone time and Max obliged, heading away without a glance back.

“Whatever you want to do, I'll back you up.” Ari told Sammy once he found the words to convey the most honest message he could give his friend. It was not the time for absurd displays of testosterone and he knew it.

Sammy scoffed and blurted out a “Fuck you.” before bringing the cigarette to his lips.

Ari stood there, his arms folded but didn’t protest at his friend’s jab. He lifted his head to look at him instead and spoke softly. “You're right. I'm an asshole. I let my ego get in the way. I get an idea, and I go with it. I don't listen. I take risks. Sometimes it works, sometimes people get hurt. I'm sorry. And if you wanna go home, I'll back you up.”

“I'm not going home without Hannah, Ari. How can I? How can I leave her here with you?” Sammy snarled though he knew better than to raise his voice where they were.

“I’d never do anything to...” Ari began to defend himself but was cut off.

“To what? Put her in danger? You already did! By simply bringing her here, her neck has been on the block, in fact all our necks have.” Sammy hissed gesturing at him with his hand before throwing his cigarette down and stamping on it, looking up at Ari before shrugging and dropping his head again.

“Here we go again, huh?” Sammy spoke after a few seconds, his eyes piercing Ari’s before he shook his head as he walked off.

****

When they arrived back at the resort, Ari was on edge for a number of reasons and his anxiety was compounded when Hannah railed at him for leaving without telling her where he was going. After a very heated exchange, he finally managed to calm her down enough to get her to listen along with Rachel and Jake as he filled them in on what he, Max and Sammy had found. When Ari explained that he needed either her or Rachel to go with them to pick up the refugees, Hannah nodded and said she would go, much to Sammy’s annoyance. But as usual, she paid her brother absolutely no attention whatsoever.

The problem Ari had, was that he was back to operating with no plan. His priority was getting the refugees out of harm’s way but after that, he was flying blind and banking on managing to talk Ethan around. But, as usual, he was in act now, think later mode. And for the most, it was working. The collection went without a hitch, and a few hours later, just as darkness had fallen, they were pulling back up to the resort.

And then they spotted the military jeeps.

Ari exchanged a look with Hannah who let out a curse and an exhale as she too spotted their unwelcome visitors. Ari hopped out of the truck, and motioned to Max and Sammy, indicating the jeeps. They both nodded to show they’d understood, and then he took Hannah’s hand.

“Follow my lead, okay?” He looked at her, squeezing his fingers around hers and she nodded as they headed inside. Ari began to laugh and Hannah, picking up on his signal, grinned at him as he closed the lattice door behind them, his hand still round hers, the other running through his hair. He gave a little false surprised start as he looked at the man in front of him, his best acting skills on show as he gave the man a smile and a puzzled look.

“Colonel. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I was just treating my men to some of Abu Aziz's famous cooking.” The man drawled back.

“Great,” Ari let go of Hannah's hand and planted his palm on the base of her back, guiding her forward, “let's not keep him waiting.”

They both walked past him, smiling at a few other guests, but Ahmed didn’t follow. “Stop.” He spoke loudly and Ari did as he was told, glancing at Hannah before the pair of them turned to look at him. “I just want to see what is in the back of your truck.”

“What for?” Ari shot back, a frown on his face, his stomach in nervous knots.

“It will please me.” Ahmed gave a huge grin displaying his bright white teeth before he barked something in Arabic to a soldier who obediently ran off.

Ari looked at Hannah, then to Rachel, fake puzzlement on his face as the two women both gave an exaggerated shrug, feigning nonchalance. There was a lot of shouting, as they all waited with bated breath, but eventually Ahmed’s smug grin slipped and Ari felt a huge wave of relief wash over him.

But, his relief didn’t last long. As they sat for dinner, the soldiers continued to patrol around the resort and the tension in the air was palpable, not merely across the team but also the guests. Ari was getting more and more frustrated and nervous as the seconds passed not least because he actually had no idea where Max and Sammy had hidden the refugees. He cleared his throat a little, his right arm leaning on the back of his chair, almost facing Hannah who was sat next to him, her body language tense. His left hand dropped to her back, gently rubbing circles over her T-shirt which was tacky with sweat as they both watched a soldier who walked amongst the tables, with his rifle held in his arms.

“Is there something I can help them find?” Ari turned to Ahmed.

“They are just doing their jobs.” The man shrugged before he looked at Nathifa who had come to clear away their starter plates, and began speaking once more in Arabic. Ari, Hannah, Jake and Rachel all exchanged a look. Whilst they had no idea what was being said, they could hazard a pretty good guess the man was digging for information. As he watched, in the corner of his eyes, Ari saw Rachel glance around, before she turned to him, taking a deep breath.

“I'll be right back,” she stood up. Hannah’s eyes followed her before she glanced at Jake who met her puzzled expression with one of his own. Giving a little cough, she reached for her glass of water at the same time Ari shifted in his seat, his hand dropping to Hannah’s thigh as he spoke to Nathifa who was now visibly distressed.

“Nathifa, go help Aziz with the food.”

Taking her leave, she did just that and a few minutes later their main course arrived. But, unlike normal, the entire resort was pretty much silent bar the chatter of the soldiers who were raucous around the table. Ari really wasn’t hungry, none of them were, they were too nervous as it wasn’t just their safety that was on the line but the hundreds of refugees hidden around the place, not to mention the guests who were all equally as tense at the armed guards. Taking Ari’s lead, Hannah forced herself to eat, keeping up appearances, and after what felt like a lifetime Ahmed placed his knife and fork down, letting out an appreciative noise.

“This was delicious.” He waved his arms over the table. “Maybe I'll bring Abu Aziz to come cook for me, hey?” He let out a chuckle as Nathifa made to move away with the plates, but in a flash he reached up and grabbed her arm, once more speaking in Arabic. And none of them needed to be able to understand the language to know the man was being forceful, and the young girl was scared.

Ari took a deep breath through his nose as Hannah’s hand dropped to his thigh and he steadied himself, quelling the anger that was simmering in his mind at the assholes treatment of the girl he had hold of. When he spoke, his voice was calm but stern, a far cry from how he felt inside. “Don't do that,” he shook his head, his gaze locked on Ahmed, who simply stared back at him, that arrogant, smug nature he exuded was almost suffocating. The man tossed his head at Ari, goading him further as he made a simple noise of questioning whilst he continued to feel up the young woman, his hand round her waist, rubbing up and down her thigh.

Ari clenched his teeth together, Hannah’s nails now digging painfully into his leg through his denims and he was aware of the deathly silence that had filled the room, all eyes now on him and Ahmed waiting to see how the clash of the two alphas was going to play out.

“Do you know why I love Hadandawa women?” Ahmed snorted as his hand slid round to Nathifa’s ass. “Because they are absolutely wild in the sack.” With a laugh he pulled her onto his lap as the soldiers around laughed as she let out a sob of protest.

“Hey!” A voice shouted from the rear of the room and Hannah turned her head slightly to see Rachel had returned and was stood a little behind them, her eyes fixed on the scene as it played out, her face set in anger. And then, in the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Ari slipping the steak knife off the table, his hand clenched around the wooden handle. His entire body was coiled like a snake, ready to attack, and Hannah knew he’d reached the point where if he was pushed anymore he wouldn’t think once, let alone twice.

Ahmed ignored Rachel completely, and continued his disgusting little monologue. “Because they don't feel anything down there.”

Hannah glanced at Jake, who shook his head slightly as he too had noticed Ari take the knife, and Hannah realised then she had to diffuse the situation before someone got killed. Ari might be fast, and strong, and in normal circumstances she’d bet on him to win, but these soldiers had guns. And he wouldn’t stand a chance, none of them would.

“Their fathers cut them when they are very young, so...” Ahmed chuckled, his hand straying across Nathifa’s thighs travelling slowly upwards. “You have to be very rough for them to feel anything at all.”

Hannah felt Ari besides her, moving as if he was going to get up, but before he got the chance, she reached over and deliberately knocked the water jug across the table. There was a sudden flurry of activity, as the liquid spread across the table, some of the soldiers jumping out of its way, and Ahmed made a clicking noise and pushed Nathifa up off his lap as the pool of water spread towards him. The sudden movement caused the girl to stumble to the floor and before Ari could stop her, Hannah jumped up to help.

“Do you have to be rough with your girl, Mr Thomas?” Ahmed asked, and Ari’s eyes flicked to his, his palm gripping at the knife even more as the man’s eyes moved to Hannah, a grin on his face. “Does she like it? Maybe I should try and see.”

And that was it, Ari was done. No one threatened his girl, no one.

Ahmed’s hand moved towards Hannah as she helped Nathifa to her feet, but his fingers had barely brushed her arm before Ari was out of his chair and right in front of the asshole.

“Don’t you lay a finger on her,” he hissed, the blade of the knife pressed into the man’s neck, fury radiating from every inch of his body as he glared at the man who dared to threaten his girl. Around him, soldiers were all raising their guns as everyone else stood stock still, the sound of his own breathing was all that Ari heard for a moment before Ahmed smirked.

“Or what? Huh? What is it that you are planning on doing with that knife, Mr. Thomas?”

“Hopefully just eat my dinner.” Ari’s voice was low but threatening, because consequences be damned, he wouldn’t think twice about slitting the man open, ear to ear. The two men faced off, neither backing down, the tension simmering until Ahmed eventually gestured for the soldiers to lower their guns. As they did so, Ari let out a deep breath, the hand holding the knife dropping slowly, his eyes not leaving Ahmed for a second.

Which was a mistake, as he missed the soldier approaching him from behind. The first he knew about it was a scream from Hannah at the same time he registered a searing pain as he was clubbed on the back of the head by the butt of a rifle. With a grunt, Ari fell to his knees, hands clutched to the back of his head as stars exploded in front of his eyes. His hands clutched to the back of his head in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain as he slumped back against the leg of the table, his head spinning. He blinked as Hannah dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands reaching to cup his face as he struggled to focus. He was aware that a few people were talking, and then there was a flurry of movement, and he blinked again, the room fading back into view as Hannah looked at him, her eyes full of tears.

“Lobo? Hey, let me see.” She whispered and he shook his head, swallowing as he brought his hand back in front of his face to check for blood. There was none.

“I’m okay.” He nodded to her, and she looked at him for a second before she stood and offered him her hand. He took it and rose to his feet, the other hand still pressed to the back of his head as he watched the remaining soldiers leave the room. The last one had barely left before he moved and pulled Hannah to him, his arms wrapping around her as he grimaced against the throbbing in his skull. Taking a deep breath he held Hannah’s trembling frame tightly, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, cupping her face and she shook her head.

“He barely touched me, Ari. I’m more worried about you.”

“He shouldn’t have even done that.” Ari ignored her concern as he shook his head, swallowing. He turned his head to glance around at the guests who were all watching with trepidation. With a nod, he gestured to the kitchen just as Max and Sammy both appeared and the team headed away from prying eyes.

Ari immediately headed to the lattice screens over the windows, his hand wrapped around Hannah’s as the pair of them watched the jeeps driving off.

“They're gonna be back soon. With numbers.” Ari said, as he turned to look at his team over his shoulder as he felt that horrible, shitty cold feeling of dread flood his system. Their timescales had just shrunk, dramatically.

“Especially when they figure out they're one man short.” Max sighed.

“What do you mean?” Hannah frowned. “What did you do?”

At that, Max shot a pointed look at Rachel as Sammy looped an arm round her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. Ari blinked as Rachel looked up at him, swallowing, and he gave a groan as he realised what was going on.

“Where is he?”

Less than a minute later the group of them were looking at exactly where he was. Dead on the floor of a hut. As they all stared down at the deceased soldier, none of them sure what the next steps were, Ari was frantically wracking his brain for a solution. This was his responsibility as leader after all.

But, it was Sammy that broke the silence to state the obvious. “We need a plan, Ari, and fast.”

Painfully aware that Sammy was right, Ari rubbed his face with his hand before he took a deep breath. He had been hoping to back Ethan into a corner and force him to backtrack and effectively mount one last rescue op before they all bailed, but that had completely gone out of the window. There’s no way they could even attempt it, not now that Ahmed was into them and one of his soldiers lay dead by his feet.

This was a fucking mess, and Ari suddenly found himself wishing there was one of Bowen’s dammed cargo planes coming for them…

Oh. Oh...

“Okay.” Ari gave a nod as the bones of a plan formed in his mind, letting out a deep exhale as he turned to Rachel and Jake. “Buy me a day, make sure they're taken care of but completely invisible. Don't let the staff in here.” Rachel nodded as he looked round at the guys in turn as he spoke. “Max, Sammy, take the truck, get the rest of the group.” He then looked at Hannah, squeezing her hand. “You and I gotta call Ethan.”

And you’re not leaving my side till we’re out of this fucking country…

Hannah looked at him, frowning a little and Ari knew why. Given that Ethan had warned him not to go near the remaining refugees he knew he was in for it. But he didn’t give a shit. Ethan could yell at him all he wanted, Ari’s priority now was his team and the hundreds of frightened people they had hid at the resort.

Quietly they all left the hut, peeling off in different directions. Rachel and Jake strode back up to the main part of the resort to see to the remaining guests that were still milling around following dinner, whilst Max and Sammy headed off to the trucks. Ari led Hannah back towards the resort a little behind Jake and Rachel, running through his plan in his head. It was such a long shot, but the only one they had.

“What are you gonna do, Ari?” Hannah’s voice was soft and he paused, turning to look at her.

“I’m gonna tell Ethan we need imminent extraction.”

“What? He can’t. There’s no exfil plan!” Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “And even if he could, now we have like three hundreds refugees after he told you not to get them!”

Ari dropped his head, hands on hips. “I know, sweetheart, which is why we’re gonna have to play the Bowen card.” His eyes met Hannah’s as she hesitated, and then frowned, opening her mouth to no doubt protest but Ari cut her off. “He knows who we are and what we’re doing, Han. He even mentioned your father’s name.”

“Yes, but what the fuck makes you think he can help when our own government can’t?” She shook her head. “Ari, this…”

“He talked about cargo planes, didn’t he?” Ari pressed. “Coming to evacuate them all?”

“Yeah, but... “

“We just have to convince him to get us one.” Ari shrugged, as if it was an easy and obvious solution, but he wasn’t fooling Hannah. She scoffed and snorted.

“Why would the US give a shit about-“

“You got a better idea?” Ari snapped, “because if you have, now is the time to share it.”

Hanna’s mouth pressed tightly into a thin line and she folded her arms across her chest, looking away. Ari gave a sigh, and when he spoke his voice was softer, contrite almost, but still carried an unmissable tone of frustration.

“Just hear me out!” Ari implored as Hannah continued to stare into the distance. “Because it’s the only thing I got. And last time I checked I was still in charge.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows at that, and after what felt like an age, she turned to face him, her face stony and Ari took a deep breath as she looked at him.

“Go on then.” She instructed as Ari raked his fingers through his hair, the way he always did when he was stressed or thinking.

“We reach out to Bowen tomorrow, come clean,” he licked his lips, the salty taste of his sweat mixed with the sea air stung his tongue as he took a deep breath. “If we can get Ethan on side he might be able to pull some strings, get our people to call his.”

Hannah blinked, before she shook her head, letting out a deep breath from her nose. “If you say so.”

Her tone was flat and Ari’s shoulders sagged a little as he glanced out over the dark surface of the ocean. She didn’t think it was going to work, and even he had to admit he wasn’t sure it would either. But right now, he could see no option. They were past being discreet, this wasn’t merely dangerous, it was now a straight out battle between life and death, and he wasn’t going to sit around and simply wait for the inevitable to happen.

“Hannah, I know it’s a long shot…” He turned back to look at her as she gave a derisive snort as she met his eyes.

“Long? That’s an understatement-“

“-but right now it’s the only shot we have!” His voice rose once more as he threw his arms out to his side, his palms slapping against the outside of this thighs as the snapped back down. “So I’m gonna take it, with or without your help.”

Hannah’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek and Ari could tell she was biting back another response, undoubtedly a smart quip about this being no change from normal, that he came up with these off-the-cuff ideas and ran with them, because he was a reckless asshole. But this time was different, he was in a corner and there was no alternative but to come out fighting. And, unlike normal, he was unable to find it in him to assure her it was all gonna be okay because he didn’t know it would be, not for certain. And he couldn’t lie to her.

Instead he waited, impatiently, simply watching as she stared back at him, an expression on her face so like Sammy’s when he too thought Ari was being a dick, as she shook her head, her tongue making a clicking noise against her teeth. “Fine.” She popped her shoulder. “Let’s call Ethan.”

*****

As predicted, Ethan blew his absolute fucking shit. He railed at Ari and Hannah over the radio, firing Ari, again. Both of them knew better than to interrupt his mad rant so they let him continue his angry diatribe until he finally finished and Ari picked up the conversation calmly and quietly. As he spoke and explained the spark of idea, Ethan’s logic kicked in and he agreed to do what he could at his end, but reminded them what they were already painfully aware of, essentially they were on their own. This whole operation had been illegal and off radar of the main Israeli government, so whilst Ethan was certainly able to provide them with a glimmer of an idea as to where they could exit the country, it was completely up to them to sort the when and how.

They spent the rest of the evening going over how they were going to approach Bowen and pull this off, Ari growing increasingly frustrated at the fact he didn't have the answers to Jake and Rachel’s questions. Eventually, Max and Sammy arrived back, and their attention then diverted to getting the remaining refugees quickly and quietly into the huts, providing medical treatment where needed and then some food. By the time that was done and the group reconvened in the kitchen area, it was almost half past three in the morning. To Ari's surprise, when he explained his plan to go to Khartoum and that he wanted Hannah to go with him, Sammy raised no objections, most likely because he was as keen to put as much distance between her and the potential returning soldiers as possible. And, whilst they were effectively about to officially blow their cover to the CIA, the US Embassy was the safest place for any of them to be.

They both took a quick shower and changed, Hannah dressing in a pair of faded jeans which grazed her ankles along with a pair of sneakers, whilst Ari pulled on a denim shirt and a pair of dark jeans before he sat on the edge of the bed to push his feet into his trusty boots as Hannah tied her hair back with a scrunchy. They then took Simon down to Max knowing the dog would try and follow the jeep unless he was occupied, and made a swift and quiet exit.

Ari could have driven the long journey to Khartoum with his eyes closed, it felt he'd done it that often over the past two years, but he was glad his eyes were firmly open as they both got to see the stunning sun rise over the desert horizon. It was a slight reprieve in an otherwise tense journey, both of them caught up in thoughts about what they had to do. At one point, however, Hannah fell silent mid discussion and Ari turned to see she'd fallen asleep. With a soft smile, he turned his attention back to the road happy to leave her to it. She might be exhausted but she was safe.

They arrived at the US Embassy at just gone Nine-Thirty, and a flash of Ari's 'Guy' Passport saw them through the guarded gate.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist looked up and Ari flashed her his most charming smile.

“We’re here to see Walton Bowen.”

“Do you have an appointment?” The woman beamed back, batting her eyelids at Ari, but before he could try and win her over with any more of his charm, Hannah rolled her eyes and cut in.

“We don’t need one.” She gave the woman a curt smile. “Tell him Guy Thomas and Rosa Gomez are here. He’ll see us.”

The receptionist blinked and Ari looked away, fighting the smirk that was threatening to spread across his face at Hannah’s tone. She kept her eyes on the receptionist, her mannerism not faltering for a second and the woman behind the desk gave a little cough as she reached for the phone. After a short conversation she replaced the receiver and looked up.

“He’s going to send someone down to collect you, in the mean time I’ll need you to sign in as Visitors.”

“Thank you.” Hannah replied sweetly as the woman slid over the register she needed them to fill in before she moved to a filing cabinet at the back. “What?” Hannah raised an eyebrow at Ari who simply shook his head.

“Nothing, Firefly.”

Less than five minutes later they were being led into the office upstairs, Bowen greeting them both in the main part before he led them through to a smaller room at the back which was clearly his office. They both politely declined his offer of something to drink, taking a seat opposite where Bowen himself sat at his desk. Ari’s hands clasped together in his lap as he took a deep breath, his eyes on Bowen,

“So, are you going to finally tell me who you really are?”

Frustration filled Ari’s system at how deliberately obtuse the guy was being. “You know who we are.” Ari’s voice was calm but authoritative, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for whatever stupid horseplay Bowen was trying to tease them into. “I wish we had time to play games, but we don't.”

“Right.” Bowen was completely unfazed by Ari’s tone as he leant back in his chair, gesturing to them both “But I'd really like to hear it. From you.”

At that Hannah stiffened and took a deep breath, she was pissed off too. Ari gently laid a hand on her arm, as he turned to Bowen.

“Hypothetically?” Ari spoke, his eyes fixed on the man. “I'm the Israeli government.”

“Well fuckin' shalom.” Bowen’s voiced was laced with sarcasm as his eyebrow raised, a smirk on his face. Ari took a deep breath as he narrowed his eyes, Hannah making an angry noise through her nose as she shook her head, glancing around the room, teeth worrying at her bottom lip in a nervous, yet irritated manner.

“Let's assume for a second that we know something about these disappearing refugees.” Ari broke the tense silence. “And, we theoretically need your help getting about four hundred of them out of the country, immediately.”

“Oh?” Bowen questioned, although both Ari and Hannah could tell he wasn’t in the least surprised. “How would I do that?”

“You mentioned planes.” Hannah looked at him as she crossed her left leg over her right. “Here on the ground in Khartoum, cargo planes.”

“Uh-huh.” Bowen replied, taking a deep breath before he shook his head. “Even if I could help you, Ari and Hannah.” He paused, levelling Ari with a look as Ari stiffened at the use of their real names whereas besides him Hannah merely blinked. “I don't have that kind of pull.”

“Okay, look,” Hannah uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, hands resting on her knees, “my dad didn’t found Mossad for you to come in riding shit shot over everything we’ve done or are trying to do.” She paused as Bowen took a deep breath, not an inch of surprise on his features confirming Hannah’s suspicions that he knew a dammed site more than just their names. “These are our people. They’re hungry, sick and being persecuted in a way you couldn’t possibly imagine. So much so that they’re willing to risk their lives to escape. Now, if we don’t find a way to get them out of here, then you’re gonna have a massacre not only on your hands but your conscience. So, I’ll ask again, are you gonna fucking help us or not?”

Her voice as steely, and as Ari looked at her, she was radiating a deathly, silent fury, fire burning in her eyes and for the first time since they’d started their meeting, Bowen’s cocky demeanour faltered a little as he shifted uncomfortably under her glare.

Despite everything, Ari couldn’t help but smile at how quickly Hannah had turned this round on Bowen by calling him out and he was reminded exactly why he had wanted her on the mission in the first place. Sure, her skills lay in the medical field but in situations like this she was fearless, quick thinking and had an authority about her when she was in this mood that could make the bravest of men quake in their boots. Right there and then, he didn’t think he could love her any more if he tried.

And he was also highly inappropriately turned on.

Bowen sighed and shook his head, an apologetic look on his face, his body language now shifting from cautious to open. “Honestly, the best I can do is talk to my bosses.”

“Well then,” Hannah nodded to the two phones on his desk, her arms folding back over her chest, chin jutting upwards in a display of defiance, “get talking.”

Bowen looked at her before he took a deep sigh and picked up the phone. From then on in it was a flurry of calls, back and forth it went as Ari explained in detail his idea and what he had agreed with Ethan.

For hours the wrangling went on until Bowen made the final call and informed them there was nothing more he could do formally. Ari, frustrated by the amount of red tape the man seemed to be caught up in had started pacing up and down, hand running through his beard. Hannah remained nervously in her seat, her foot tapping the leg of Bowen’s desk as the man gave her a small smile.

And then the red phone rang.

All three of them looked at it, Hannah rising to her feet as Bowen took a deep breath before he reached to pick it up, but Ari stopped him, hurrying over from his spot in the doorway, panic flooding his system as he suddenly realised there was a pretty big chance this wasn’t gonna go the way they wanted.

“Wait, wait, wait!” His large hand curled on the receiver to prevent Bowen answering as it continued to ring shrilly. “I don't know what this person's gonna tell you. They may tell you to throw me out of the building or the country, but I promise you, what you do right now will be your legacy.” He paused as Bowen looked at him. “When you look back on this moment, it will either fill you with great pride, or great shame.”

Bowen looked at him, before Ari moved back and he picked up the phone. “This is Walton.”

Ari and Hannah exchanged looks, her hand slipping into his giving it a squeeze as Bowen spoke. Eventually, he put the phone down and took a deep breath.

“They told me to throw you out.” He shrugged and Hannah felt her heart sink.

“Fuck!” Ari slammed his hand on the desk before he stood up, both hands flying through his hair.

“But lucky for you, we’re cut from the same cloth Ari, I don’t much care for stupid decisions from up the chain either.” Ari blinked, his hands dropping to his side as he stared at Bowen, who shrugged a little. “You’re right, I don’t want four hundred deaths on my conscience so I’ll get you a plane, but I can only get you one.”

Ari let’s out a sigh of relief, his mouth dry as he thanked every single one of his damned lucky stars. He turned to Hannah who was looking up at the ceiling, swallowing and blinking back tears, letting out the breath she had been holding pretty much since the phone rang.

“We got a thirty minute window tonight.” Bowen continued, as he turned and walked to a filing cabinet, pulling out a scroll “I can’t buy any more time.” With a flourish he unrolled the paper out onto his desk and Hannah instantly spotted it was a map as he pinned it down with a stapler at one side and a book at the other. He glanced up at Ari then Hannah, pointing to it. “You mentioned an air field?”

****

By the time they had fleshed out their plan, which involved numerous calls on secure lines back to Mossad HQ, it was almost two in the afternoon, and Ari was conscious that they needed to go if they were to stand any chance of meeting the schedule. After bidding Bowen a hasty good bye, they made their way swiftly to the jeep, hopped in and Ari sped away from the embassy back down the main road that would lead them out of Khartoum for what Ari was hoping would be the last time.

They felt like it was taking forever, and this time it was the setting sun that filled their eyes as Ari navigated the jeep down the deserted dirt track through the desert, once more avoiding the main road. They made small talk, a mix tape playing over the speakers as they went, Hannah mostly concentrating on going over their plan so they had it down to the last detail. But after a few hours, Ari had fallen silent and had taken to huffing impatiently, the foot which wasn’t pressed on the accelerator was jiggling nervously and his jaw was clenching in that tell-tale way. After half an hour or so of watching this silently, Hannah instructed him to pull over and take a moment before they had an accident, something he was extremely reticent to do but obliged anyway because she knew she was right. He needed to stretch his legs and clear his mind as much as he could. He would be no use to anyone if he arrived home in this state. He needed to be calm, focussed and together.

Ari left the ignition running, in case they needed to make a quick get-away and climbed out of the vehicle where he had pulled off the dirt track slightly and parked in the shelter of two sand dunes. He cracked his neck, ran his hand through his hair and began pacing a little, his toes scuffing at a few loose rocks as he took a deep breath, while Hannah watched from her spot against the rear fender of the jeep where she leaned back against the warm metal, her eyes tracking his every movement.

Ari bit his lip as he paced, running anxious hands through his hair, wringing them together, murmuring to himself. He thought back to his conversation with Sammy the day before and the incident in the dining room which until now, he had managed to compartmentalise. He was so desperate and determined to get this escape out properly without further damage to any of them, not least make sure Hannah was safe, that he had focussed all his energy and mental capacity on plotting and organising their route out. But now, the realisation of how close he had come to risking everything getting blown in a split second crashed over him, and it felt like a knife in the gut that was being slowly twisted, compounded by a constant hammer on the head, reminding him of exactly how dire the situation was.

Abruptly, he quit pacing and stalked over to Hannah, his hands cupped her face and crashed his lips to hers in a kiss that was bruising and possessive, but ever so careful as well, a combination Ari managed effortlessly when it came to his Firefly. “I love you. I love you so much...” he mumbled against her mouth.

She made no protest, bar a huff of surprise, but she welcomed him, almost like she needed the release as much as he did. Their kisses became more heated, and before he knew what he was doing, Ari's hand was fumbling for the door. Then effort was clumsy at best, teeth clashing together as he blindly pried the door open and pushed her inside till she was lying on the backseat.

Hannah grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, furiously kissing him, teeth clashing, beard scratching as she emptied every single emotion she was feeling into his mouth as he pressed her into the well-worn, creaky back bench of the jeep, groaning as he ground his hips down against hers. It wasn’t comfortable, trying to contort his large frame across the rear of the car but, right at that moment, comfort was the last thing on his mind as her hands tangled into his hair, nails scraping his scalp as she keened underneath him.

Ari pulled away if only for a second but Hannah's eyes told him everything he wanted to hear.

"Make me yours, Lobo," she whispered against his ear as his lips nipped and licked at her neck.

"You're already mine, Firefly," he all but growled, moving so that he had one leg bent on the bench, the other extended into the rear foot-well. The clanging of buckles, zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric filled the car as, with a swift, hurried movement, Ari undone his belt and jeans, shoving them and his boxers down over his hips, just enough to allow his erection to spring free.

With a feral movement, he swatted Hannah’s hands away from where they were fumbling with the flies at the top of her own faded blue denims and quickly pulled them and her panties down over one of her legs, leaving her to kick them off the other, or not, he didn’t give a shit as long as they weren’t in the way. He shoved her legs apart as best he could, the tight position of the back seat giving them little room as she braced herself against the door arms above her head palms flat against the door.

Ari wasn’t wasting any time, because they simply didn’t have any to waste. Not only were they up against the clock due to their schedule, if they got caught as they were, out in the open, well, there was a jail cell waiting for both of them, and all things considered, had he been thinking straight he wouldn’t have instigated any of this. But he wasn’t, he never was as far as this woman was concerned.

Laying back over her, with a long, deep rut forward he thrust up into her, making her groan loudly as he nipped roughly at her neck whilst he retracted his hips and thrust back into her, harder still. A few thrusts later, his hips were set in a rhythm, snapping back and forth with a pace and a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of her again and again. His hands firmly gripping her hips as his lips met hers in a hard, deep kiss which was furious, tongues lashing against one another, obscene noises filling the vehicle, the inside of which was already hot and sweaty thanks to the heat of the day still being present, and was growing muggier by the second thanks to the heavy, exertive activities taking place on the back seat.

After a particularly deep thrust, an animalistic growl burst from his throat as one of her hands snaked into his long hair and gave a tug. As he glanced down at her, he could see the pupils of her eyes were blown wide with a desire he would never tire of seeing. She titled her hips up against him, causing him to drive deeper and she let out an almost primal cry he had never, in all their times of being intimate together, heard her make before. It simply revved him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck, Lobo,” she moaned, her head falling back, smacking against the metal of the car door as Ari thrust into her harder over and over again and it wasn’t long before he felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him, a sign she was close and her hands flew from where they’d been braced against the door to his back.

“Firefly,” his hand reached up, grasping her chin between his finger and thumb, forcing her face round to his and his lips claimed hers once more. “Come on, baby,” he panted against her mouth, his thrusting pausing for a moment as he ground up against her, causing her to cry out. “Cum for me, Hannah.”

Another rotation of his hips saw her mouth drop open in as she chanted his name, again and again, her tight heat gripping him like a vice as she came, her back arching, hands clawing at his skin over his denim shirt. The bite of pain from her nails overwhelmed him and he felt his own stomach tighten.

“Shit, Hannah, I’m gonna…” His words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate before his hips stuttered as he came with a surge that made the world around him go silent, almost like someone was squeezing the air out of him inch by inch.

They lay there in a tangle of clothing and limbs, chests heaving, sweat glistening on every part of their bodies that was exposed, clothes sticking to the parts that weren’t. Ari held his girl to him, panting and shaking, and he was desperate not to let her go, but he was also painfully aware that their stolen time together today was coming to an end. As he managed to gain enough control push himself up on his arms, Hannah looked up at him, gently brushing the tendrils of hair that had fallen over his face back, raised her head, her lips pressing gently to his in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before.

“Marry me.” He said softly, his eyes only on hers, awaiting her answer.

Hannah blinked as the two simple words resonated in her brain and those gorgeous eyes that Ari could stare into all day long grew wide in surprise. “What?” Her question was nothing more than a breathy whisper and Ari took a deep breath, before he spoke again, his voice clearer than it had been moments ago.

“Marry me, Hannah.”

As he watched her process his request, her eyes began to water and a single tear trickled down her cheek. Ari reached up to wipe it away, his hand shaking a little with nervous apprehension. Had he overstepped? It really wasn’t how he’d ever seen himself asking her, in a million years, but he wanted her to know just how much he did love and need her, especially as they were about to embark on the most dangerous part of their mission yet. And if it did go wrong, then at least she would know what she meant to him truly.

“Han?” He managed to croak her name out as she laid there, simply looking at him. And after what felt like an age, she gave a sniff and then the faintest nod.

But a nod nonetheless.

“Yeah?” Ari inhaled, hardly daring to believe it but then her face cracked into a huge smile and she nodded once more.

“Yes! A million times yes! It’s always been you, Ari Levinson.”

He spluttered a happy chuckle as her words sunk in and the sheer joy flooded his system at her answer, the love he felt for her warm in his chest like a talisman as she beamed at him. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, he closed the small space between them, sealing their engagement with a kiss. As much as he wanted to slowly make love to her until the sun crested the dunes and the stars started to shine, they were on a time crunch and this little detour would have already set them back some. But it was all fucking worth it, it would be. He had to believe it, or no one else would.

They made themselves presentable and began the rest of their journey back to the resort, time no longer on their side. And as Ari drove, Hannah's left hand nestled lovingly and snuggly in his right, he pressed his lips to her knuckles.

“I didn't mean for this.” Ari sighed as he glanced at her and then back to the dirt road ahead. “Well, I did in a way but not for it to end like this. I don’t know how I would have made it through any of this without you.”

“Ari.....” Hannah gave a little tsk. “You’ve pulled a lot of missions without me in the picture.”

“Maybe but,” Ari shook his head, “this is different.”

Hannah sighed now herself and leaned over to kiss his cheek, “the Red Sea Diving Resort will always have a place in our hearts, huh? If we make it, that is.”

“Don’t...” Ari shook his head. “Don’t say that. It’s gonna be fine.”

“I really wanna believe you.” She whispered, looking down at their entwined hands, taking a deep breath. “In an ideal world, then yeah, but I don’t know, Ari. I’m scared.”

He felt defeat in that moment, for he wanted nothing more than for Hannah to feel safe and secure. His body slumped a little in his seat and for a little while he didn't utter a word, his mind reeling and when he spoke his voice was a sad, barely there whisper. “I’m sorry, Firefly. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. Fuck...Sammy’s right, I’m an asshole, I...”

“Hey!” Hannah cut him off sternly, “You listen to me right now, I wouldn’t change this, any of it for the world. It brought you back to me and even now I’d go back and do it all over, just to make sure we had these last two years.” She trailed off with a little swallow and a shrug as Ari took a deep breath.

“We’ll have more, Han. We didn’t go through all this to fail now. We’re gonna make it. We have to.” It was a plea more than a statement, his eyes searching hers as she held his gaze, pleading with her to give him this, assure him he was right, because for once in his life, Ari Levinson wanted his gut feeling to be wrong.

And she did. “Okay. If you’re telling me that then I trust you.”

Despite the tension of the day, Ari felt himself relax a little, both from the touch of her hand against his and by her words. He pressed a soft kiss again to the topside of her hand.

He couldn't admit it, maybe later once this was all over he would, but he was scared too.

**** Chapter 15

#leave no one behind #Ari Levinson #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x original female character #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

111 notes · View notes

sour--disposition · 3 years

Text

Promise

Part One, Part Two

callum airey x fem!reader

Once the last box was finally emptied, you flopped back onto your bed with a sigh. With starting a new job and moving house in the same week, it took longer than you’d have liked to unpack the small amount of stuff you had, but your attention was constantly being diverted elsewhere.

Speaking of. “Hi”, you smiled when you answered the FaceTime call from Cal.

“Hey, angel”, he beamed. “Have you finished unpacking yet?”, he asked.

“Yep, just got the last box emptied and folded up ready to go to the recycling”, you told him happily.

You and Cal FaceTimed every night, if not more. He had been a godsend, helping you move out of Freya and Josh’s and get the stuff that you had moved into storage when you moved out of student housing. The conversation that you’d had with Josh and Freya kept playing on your mind, especially when you realised that you and Cal had developed a sort of routine to speak to each other as often as possible.

“What are you thinking about?”, Cal asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Nothing”, you hummed, already feeling the blush creeping up your face to betray you.

“That’s not a ‘nothing’ blush, missy”, Cal chastised cheekily. You rolled your eyes at him, sending him a playful glare. There was no doubt in your mind that Cal had at least some idea as to what you were thinking about, he was just insistent on making you blush and splutter. “What’s up?”, he asked, voice soft but serious this time.

“Does it make me a bad person that I’m already thinking about someone else?”, you asked him.

“No”, he said bluntly. “There’s no strict time scale on that sort of thing, love. None of us are gonna think any less of you for anything that you do, as long as you are doing it because it makes you happy”.

The conversation went silent for a moment as you thought over what he had just said. “Who’s the lucky guy, then?”, Cal asked. You rolled your eyes at him again.

“I don’t know if you know him”.

Cal quite quickly changed the direction of the conversation after that. You were on FaceTime with him for another hour or so before you hung up, both needing to go and eat something for dinner.

You had a shower and changed into some comfier clothes before heading for the kitchen to have a rummage around in the cupboards to see what you could make. Just as you’d put some pasta on to boil, there was a knock at your door.

“Cal?”, you asked, surprised to see the tall boy outside your front door. You turned around to walk back into the kitchen and living area, indicating for him to follow you. “What are you doing here?”.

“Is it me?”, he asked, blurted out at you. He looked like he’d been running his hands through his hair ever since you finished your call, strands sticking up at weird angles compared to the smooth look it had just an hour ago. “I just - Is it me, Y/N?”, he all but pleaded this time.

You looked at him and he looked at you. You could feel and hear the blood rushing through your body, pounding around your ears in panic. Saying the wrong thing, either way, could ruin everything. You couldn’t lose Cal, not for anything.

“Yes”.

Cal’s face finally relaxed into a soft smile. He came over to you, engulfing you in his arms and holding you tight. You buried your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and clinging onto the fabric of his hoodie. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”, you asked, voice muffled by the tight space of Cal’s chest and the bunched up fabric of his jumper.

“I’d love to”, he whispered into your hair, dropping a kiss there shortly after.

That night, after you’d eaten, you and Cal sat snuggled up on the sofa. His arm was draped around your back, resting on your ribcage, and your head was pillowed on his shoulder. “I know it might be stupid to say”, Cal started, voice low, “But I won’t do what he did”. He felt you tense up and, in return, held you a little bit closer and a little bit tighter.

“I need this to go at my pace at the moment, is that okay?”, you asked, voice soft and slightly watery.

“I’ve liked you since I first met you, Y/N. I’ll do anything if it means I get to do this”, he hummed. You lifted your head to face Cal properly, your eyes darting to his lips and his to yours. You nodded your head softly, letting him know it was okay.

Cal leaned forward, using his free hand to move a piece of hair behind your ear, leaving his hand on the side of your face. The kiss was soft, gentle and said everything that both of you needed to say but couldn’t find the words for. When he pulled back slightly, Cal rested his forehead against yours, a large grin breaking across his face. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, letting your head drop down to his shoulder.

Two weeks later, you were finally getting ready for the night that you had planned back when you were still living with Freya and Josh. You were a bit apprehensive about the night, because it had ended up being hosted at Harry and Cal’s place and Harry couldn’t not be invited to a party in his own house. It was inevitable that you were going to see him, but you just had to focus on seeing Cal and your friends and having fun after a tricky couple of months moving and an even harder few months before that.

You had about 20 minutes before everyone would be arriving at the party and you still had to find something to wear. You were stood in front of your wardrobe looking at the dresses you had hung up, but none of them were right. You rifled through them, hoping something, anything, would come to you.

Your hands landed on a black, v-necked mini dress with puffy sleeves. You pulled it off the hanger, smiling when you remembered Cal pulling it out of the box and sticking it on a hanger, making a comment about how good he bet you looked in it.

You wiggled it on, pairing it with some metallic gold heels and gold jewellery. By the time you’d given the floor a quick tidy and stuffed the belongings into your black clutch, you knew you would be at least 5 minutes late.

You ordered an Uber as you walked towards the lift, firing a text off to Cal to apologise and letting him know when to expect you. You were only waiting outside for a minute or so before the silver car pulled up in front of you. You spent the short the trip replying to texts in the girls group-chat and scrolling through your various social medias.

“Thank you so much”, you smiled to the driver before sliding out of the back of the car and walking into the main reception of the apartment building. You hit the button for Cal’s floor, pulling out your phone again to let him know you were almost there.

You could hear the music all the way from the lift, the low bass filled the hallway and indiscernible lyrics bounced from the walls. The thought of knocking on the door briefly crossed your mind, before you realised how stupid it would be. You’d be surprised if people could hear each other speak in there, let alone a knock on the door.

There were already quite a few people there, despite you only being 5 or 10 minutes late. You spotted Cal with his side facing your direction, talking to a group of the guys. You walked over, a smile settling itself on your face as you approached him. Cal looked shocked when he felt you position yourself under his arm, but he quickly relaxed once he realised it was you.

“It’s the dress”, he smiled, leaning back slightly to take in your whole appearance. “You look beautiful”, he told you, shifting his arm to sit on your hip and leaning over to drop a sweet peck to your temple. You blushed, looking around at Simon, Josh and Ethan. None of them looked surprised at what they saw.

“I’m happy for you”, Josh smiled. Conversation quickly recommenced, though, Cal eager not to put too much focus on you.

You dipped away shortly after to get a drink and find the girls. You were chatting happily with them, sipping on your drink when Cal came up to you. Freya wiggled her eyebrows at you in the least subtle way possible. You rolled your eyes playfully, turning to face Cal. Before you could ask what he wanted, he took his hand in yours. “Come dance with me?”, he asked. You smiled and nodded, knocking back the rest of your drink so that you could leave your cup on the side and go and dance with Cal.

Cal held you close against his body and moved the two of you slowly side to side, neither of you not really knowing how to dance properly. You were giggling at the stupidity that Cal was whispering into you ear as his breath tickled your neck. You reached up on your tip-toes, even though that still didn’t bridge the gap between the two of you. Cal took pity on your struggle and dipped his head to press his lips to yours. Before anything could even think about progressing further, you were interrupted by a sharp shout.

“What the fuck!?”.

Harry was livid. He’d turned around from the makeshift bar to go and return to his friends when he was greeted with the sight of one of his best friends all over his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.

You turned around in Cal’s arms to face an angry Harry. If you weren’t wrong, he was angrier now than the night that you broke up. It was written all over his face, burned into his eyes. You reached for Cal’s hand, taking a couple of steps backwards, behind Cal’s looming frame.

“Harry”, Cal warned, voice low, as he reached out behind his back to find you.

“Don’t Harry me”, he spat. “I bet you just couldn’t wait to jump into her bed, huh?”, he accused. “And you, telling me you didn’t cheat”, he scoffed. It ignited a flame inside of you, burning raw with anger.

“Outside. Now”, you instructed. You wiggled your hand out of Cal’s, despite him and the girls trying to hold you back. “Let me go, I’ll be okay”, you promised him, voice much softer.

The harsh wind ruffled the sleeves of your dress as you waited on the balcony for Harry. You noticed that the music had been turned off and even though you had left the living area, the attention was still turned to you through the glass doors of the balcony.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, you asked Harry the minute he’d stepped outside. “Who on Earth gave you the right to comment on my life anymore?”.

“You were kissing my best friend right in front of my face!”, Harry snapped.

“And!? I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Harry!”, you exclaimed.

“Did you have to do it in front of my face? No. You chose to, selfish bitch”, he muttered. If looks could kill, Harry would be little more than dust blowing away in the wind about now.

“No, you’re the selfish bitch. I’m done taking your shit, I was done taking your shit the minute you decided we were through!”.

“You’re the one that left me, remember? Or did you forget that when you started fucking my best friend?”, Harry accused. You rolled your eyes, not bothered to correct him on his inaccuracies about you and Cal.

“No, Harry. I left, but you decided we were through when you went behind my back, shagged God knows how many other girls and then had the fucking audacity to blame me for it”, you exclaimed, voice rising with anger. You watched as Harry tried to process what you said and tried to find the words to bite back with something just as angry and just as hurtful.

“I feel like shit for what I did, Y/N”, Harry sighed, finally losing the attitude and anger. He took a step towards you, hand reaching out. “I was hoping to see you tonight, to see if we could try and make this work. I know what you said... but I was hoping you might’ve changed your mind now that you’ve had time to think about it”, Harry said, voice low but hopeful.

“Harry, I spent 3 months locked away in one of your best friends’ spare rooms because I couldn’t function on my own. You broke me. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. If it wasn’t for Josh and Freya and the girls, I don’t think I’d have seen the other side of those 3 months. I didn’t move to London so we could try this again”, you said, gesturing between the two of you. “I moved to London because some of my best friends live here. I have a job and my own flat and I’m happy now. Can you please, please try, not to ruin this? Because I won’t let you, not again”.

“But... Freezy?”, Harry asked, voice weighed down with defeat.

“I don’t owe you an explanation”, you told him firmly. “Whatever Cal wants to tell you as his best friend is between you and Cal, but...”, you trailed off. “I’ll be civil as long as you are, you know I will, but that’s the most you’re ever going to get from me, which is a hell of a lot more than you deserve”, you said, voice holding a sense of finality that Harry was sensible enough to pick up on and respect.

You heard the doors slide open and closed as Harry left you alone. You walked over to the edge of the terrace, leaning your arms against the railings as you let out a long, deep breath. You bent over to remove your shoes, sighing as your bare feet hit the cold floor. You heard the doors slide open and closed again and you prayed to anyone that would listen that it wasn’t Harry.

“You didn’t come back in”, Cal said, walking over with a hoodie of his in his hand. “Put this on, you’re shivering”, he told you. He helped you into the jumper, careful not to smudge any of your make up. “Are you okay?”.

“Yeah, I think”, you replied, bundling the excess sleeves into your hands. “Can I have a hug and just stay here for a bit?”, you asked, looking up at Cal through your eyelashes. Cal let out a soft laugh, coming closer to wrap you up in his arms.

You maneuvered yourself so that you could still see the lights and the skyline, letting your head rest against Cal’s chest once you were happy with your position. “I know you’ve said it already”, you whispered quietly. “But please, don’t do what Harry did. If things are ever bad, just speak to me, okay?”, you pleaded.

You felt Cal nod his head on top of yours, shifting to kiss your forehead and hairline.

“I promise, angel”.

#calfreezy imagine #callum airey imagine #calfreezy #callum airey #harry lewis #wroetoshaw #miniminter #josh zerker #vikkstar123 #ksi #jj olatunji #tbjzl #behzinga #uk youtube #uk youtube imagine #sidemen imagine #sidemen oneshot #sidemen #sidemen of the sidemen

152 notes · View notes

sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.3k

Warnings: swearing

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 15 Part 17

Part 16

Liam cooked us a chicken stir-fry with Asian vegetables for dinner. I was mildly surprised that he was such a good cook and told him so. He said he had to learn pretty quickly in the early days of his career when he would go months without a paying job.

"I was lucky. My parents were supportive, so I knew I wouldn't starve, and they would give me money if I asked. I didn't want to, though. I felt like if I had to ask for money, then I was a failure. It motivated me to go to more auditions, prepare better, take some classes to get more skills, perfect my accents."

I admired him for that. From what I knew about his family, they seemed to be wealthy. It would have been easy for him to rely on them while trying to make it.

Liam had told me a lot about his family. He was very close to his two brothers. It seemed like he was a bit of a mummies boy, and I supposed that comes from being the youngest. He seemed to credit his Dad for his love of stories and his desire to act.

"Have you told them about me? Your family, I mean." I asked a bit hesitantly, unsure how I'd feel if he said no.

I shouldn't have worried though, his huge smile said it all. "I told Mum about you over a month ago."

"We hadn't even met yet."

"I know," Liam sounded a bit bashful as he continued. "My Mum kept saying how happy I sounded. I kept dropping hints that she thought I was seeing someone. She's very good at reading me. She hounded me until I told her."

"What did she say?"

"She was surprised we hadn't met. I spoke to her during the week a few times and told her we'd met, and it went well, and we'd seen each other the whole weekend. It was a bit awkward like I said. She knows me too well. She said, 'You mean you spent the weekend shagging.'"

"Oh, my God!" I was so embarrassed. "What did you say? She's going to think I'm the town bike."

"She wasn't judging, by the way. She was worried about how you would react to me. She was happy because she felt like I shouldn't have used Simons photos."

"She's not wrong," I said.

"I know, I know. Do I have to apologise again?"

"No, just don't do it again."

He briefly grinned but then looked at me, his face and tone serious. "Hopefully, I'll never have to."

I didn't know how to respond to that. What did he even mean by that? I didn't ask. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. I cleared my throat. "Is that all she said?" I asked, instead.

Liam opened his mouth and was about to say something before closing his mouth and trying again. "Well, then she saw the photos and stories about us. I tell her not to read that stuff because most of it is rubbish. But she does. Anyway, she said we looked lovely together and..." he paused before continuing. "And she can't wait to meet you in a few months. She's coming for a visit in late June early July for my two-week hiatus."

I almost asked what he was going to say, but I changed my mind. "What about your brothers? Your Dad?"

"Well, my Dad isn't much of a talker when it comes to relationships. But he did say Mum had shown him your picture and that you seemed like a nice girl. Other than that, he didn't comment. He rarely does unless he thinks someone isn't good for me."

"Is he coming with your mum?"

"Only for one week. My mum will stay for nearly three. My brothers well..." he grinned. "You know what brothers are like. We are rarely serious together. Also, we rarely call each other. We mostly keep in contact through group chats." His lip twitched as he said, 'there were a lot of ginger jokes this week."

I could only imagine what those chat logs contain. I rolled my eyes at the thought. "The bastards," I said.

Liam laughed then asked, "what about your family?"

"I haven't told them much. Dave knows a bit. I haven't told Mum anything." I shifted in my seat. "Dave knew I was seeing someone after I asked him to watch Perrin. But he didn't ask questions. Then on Friday, he found out it was you. He seemed ok with it." I brightened and said, "they will know all about you next week anyway."

Liam returned my smile.

After dinner, we went to bed. We both read for a while. Liam sat up with his back against the headboard while I laid on my back, using his chest as a pillow. I read until I fell asleep.

I grew to hate Sundays.

Sunday's meant my time with Liam was coming to a close. This Sunday had a silver lining because I would only have to wait until Thursday to see him again. This only partially comforted me because it was also the premiere. As the time drew closer, I knew I'd regret saying yes.

I sat with my head in my hands in the store's dressing room. Just picking which dresses to try on had been an ordeal. I had done a quick google search that morning to see what kind of dresses people wore to premieres, and it was almost no help. The range was too extensive. It seemed nearly anything was acceptable, from cocktail dresses to full-on evening wear.

Some articles made me feel sick, especially the articles about the actresses. So many articles talked about how many women found it hard to find dresses in their size because they were size 6 and too big to fit into most designers dresses. I checked out a size conversion chart and found that size 6 was a size 10 here. I was usually a size 10, but sometimes my arse needs a size 12.

I started thinking I was too fat. I kept thinking about my huge arse and thighs, which got me spiralling into thinking my breasts were too small, my hair was too frizzy, I had too many freckles, and I was too pale. The list of my faults just grew in my head until I was sure I'd end up at the premiere looking like a bush pig in a dress.

I started to breathe deeply, in through my nose, hold it, out through my mouth. After several breaths, I opened my eyes. I could do this. I picked up the first dress the assistant had helped me pick. She knew it wasn't going to wor. It was a loose short black lace dress with puffy sleeves that would make me look like the only shape I had was round. The other picks she made were dresses that looked like they were for the bride's grandmother. She also looked at Liam too many times for my liking. She was very helpful if you call taking us to dresses sold out in my size useful. Or if directing all her questions at Liam was helpful. I'll bet she's out there right now being helpful...

Fuck me dead! I think I'm jealous.

That was an emotion I hadn't felt in a while, and I didn't like it. Fuck that. I don't need to be jealous. I picked through the dresses until I found the one I already knew would be the winner.

It was from Australian designer Maticevski. The gown was black with a high neckline, and the beautiful fabric gathered on the left shoulder. The dress was pulled from the hips and cinched in the waist. It had a thigh-high split, revealing just enough skin to be sexy and a small but elegant train. I loved it the moment I saw it and knew I wanted it. But it was $2,500. I loved it so much I almost didn't care. I mean, I knew I wasn't the one people cared about. They wanted to see Liam. This time was different because it would be our first official event together, and the story right now was who was he dating. This time I would get attention. But I still thought it was too much money. I had almost put it back, but the assistant smirked. Liam, bless him, took it out of my hands and said he would love to see it on me.

I wriggled my way into the dress and looked into the mirror. It was the winner for sure. I had brought my heels from Friday night to try the dress on with, and though they weren't quite right for the dress, they gave a good idea of what I would look like. It was slightly too tight around the hips and too a little big on the top. I could get it altered, though. It wouldn't take much. Maybe even a bra with a bit of padding would fix it. I flipped my hair to give it some bounce and a sexy 'just been fucked' look and stepped out.

I was right. She was hitting on Liam hard. I wanted to punch her in the face. But then Liam saw me, and the way he looked at me made me forgot about her. I took a few steps over to him and posed in an over the top way.

"What do you think?" I asked Liam.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes did. He had the same look when he approached me on Friday night. This is definitely the dress.

"It's not too dressed up? I could try something else if you think it's too much." I said to Liam.

"It doesn't quite fit. Perhaps the..." the assistant didn't get time to finish before Liam spoke.

"No." He said firmly, cutting her off. He cleared his throat and approached me. "It's absolutely perfect." He kissed me, and his lips were so soft. He ran his hands over my waist and stood back, looking me up and down. "Perfect. We will take it."

"You don't want to try..." the assistant tried again.

Liam didn't even look at her. "I said we would take it. The other dresses can go back. Thank you for your help." I loved it when he spoke in that authoritative tone, which made me weak.

She went into the dressing room and took away the ten other dresses I was going to try. I wasn't sad to see them go, none of them would be as good as this, but I still wasn't sure.

"I can try another dress. I mean, this one is stupid expensive."

"I don't care if it was a hundred thousand dollars, you look amazing, and you like it, so you will have it."

"I just don't know if I can afford to spend money like this for one night."

"I invited you. I'm paying."

"Fuck. I should have said I need matching earrings." I joked.

"Do you?" He asked, sincere.

"No, don't be silly. Shoes and a handbag will do. I'll buy the shoes you buy the bag. Deal?"

"Nope." He was shaking his head, "I want to get everything for you. Think of it as an Easter present."

"I can afford to buy things for myself, you know. I make pretty good money considering I own my house, and I only have to take care of myself and Perrin."

"I know." Liam ran his fingers through his hair. "Call me a misogynist if you want, but I want to buy you things, pretty things, things you'd never buy yourself. I want to take care of you."

I decided to let it go. I didn't think it's misogynistic to want to buy your girlfriend a present. It's misogynistic if you think you own her because you chose to buy her things. And it did feel nice to have him want to buy me pretty things.

"Ok, Liam," I said.

His smile came back. "Good. Get changed, and let's buy you some shoes." His lip twitched. "Do you need help taking it off?"

"Get out of it." I laughed and got changed.

When I had come out, he wasn't waiting for me. I looked around and couldn't find him in the shoes or the bags. A thought came to me. I hated that I thought it, but I wondered if the shop assistants come on had worked. I didn't believe it, not really, but once the thought was there, it wouldn't leave.

I didn't want to, but I looked for the shop assistant. As I looked, I felt sick from fear and disgust with myself. I found her putting away the dresses from the dressing room, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hated myself. I wasn't usually like this. It wasn't fair on Liam either. He had given me no reason to suspect him at all.

Then I started to panic. My breath came out shallow and rapid. I felt smothered. There were no windows, and I needed to get out. There were too many people.

I felt warm hands slide under my t-shirt and rest on my belly.

I jumped and spun around. It was Liam. "Ready for shoes, Sweetheart?" He asked.

"Where were you? I looked everywhere."

"I went down to menswear real quick," Liam said. "Now that I know what you're going to wear, I know what I'm going to wear, and I needed a new shirt. It took longer than I thought."

"No worries. I just, I didn't know, it's ok."

"You ok?"

I nodded. "Let's go."

Part 17

#original character #original fiction #romantic story #happy ever after

8 notes · View notes

princesstreaclefanfic · 4 years

Text

We Meet Again Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Pain and An Olive Branch

Panic filled her heart and dread surged through her veins. She looked at the screen, closed her eyes tightly and then looked at it again. 'No signal' in big red letters for all of her co-workers. She had to do something.

***

Penelope stared at her phone screen as the elevator dinged behind her.

"Hey, I came as soon as I could. What's wrong?"

Penelope wanted to feel better now that Matt was here, now that there was someone else who could help but she didn't. The panic was still making her heart beat much faster than was probably healthy and the dread was making her blood run cold. Goose pimples covered her skin and she felt so shaky on the inside.

"They're gone. They're all gone." She showed him her phone screen and she wasn't the slightest bit encouraged when his face reflected hers.

"I'll drive."

"Yeah." Penelope was positive she would struggle to walk at the minute let alone operate a vehicle.

***

Every ounce of air that she had left her lungs as she stared at the unmoving body of Stephen Walker. His neck was bent back at an odd angle. No. This couldn't be happening. Luke appeared beside her and his hands grasped the top of her arms.

"He's gone. He's gone," he whispered to her his own voice conveying the hurt that he was feeling as well as the panic that was in the air.

"I can't leave him alone like this." Penelope hated car accidents - no surprise there. And she couldn't leave him. She didn't want him to be alone. His family couldn't be here for him so she would. Nobody deserved to die alone.

Luke left and she heard his feet pounding on the pavement as he went over to where Matt was.

Penelope kept her eyes trained on Stephen as sirens blared around her. Tears fell from her eyes and she sent up a silent prayer that he didn't suffer.

She only moved when she heard JJ gasp in pain from her position at the front of the SUV. She swiped at her tears and went over to her friend who was currently blind. She silently apologised to Stephen. There was nothing she could do to help him but she could help JJ.

She went to her friend and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Two paramedics ran towards them and as Penelope looked around she realised something was missing. Or rather someone.

Where was Emily?

***

Penelope watched as Luke answered his phone, spoke to Reid and then got up from his desk and headed towards the elevator.

She quickly jogged out of her office to catch him before he left.

"Hey," she quietly said, not wanting Matt or Reid to know she had left her office.

"Hi," Luke greeted back, dark circles under his eyes. "Monica just rang. She wants to see him."

Penelope nodded. "Okay."

"I don't know how long I'll be…" Luke began to say as he shuffled from one foot to the other.

"You'll be as long as you have to be." Monica would need all the support she could get right now.

After a few seconds of quiet, Penelope spoke. "Luke?"

His eyes met hers.

"Are you alright? You weren't injured in the crash?" She'd looked him over at the crime scene and when they first came back to the headquarters but she was worried that he was injured and not telling anyone.

"No - probably be a bit bruised in the next few days but nothing serious."

Even the thought of him being bruised from the crash was a hard thought to take.

Penelope nodded her head and swallowed. "Give Monica my condolences."

"I will."

Just as she turned, he reached out and took ahold of her hand. "We're going to be alright, chica."

She gave him a small smile just before the elevator dinged to signal it's arrival. Luke gently let go of her hand and stepped inside.

Penelope watched him until the doors closed. She turned around and put her working head back on. When everyone was safe and sound and Scratch was caught she could grieve but right now she needed to work.

***

"So… what are you going to do with your six weeks?" Luke asked as he helped Penelope load some of her things into her car - or Esther as she insisted the blue bug be called.

"I'm not sure. Probably play some computer games, watch movies, snuggle with Simon. What about you?"

"There's a new dog agility park near my house that I've been wanting to take Roxy to for a while so I'll probably head there first."

"I'll bet she'll love that." Roxy had loved running as a puppy and she'd spend hours running through the tubes at the rescue.

Speaking of the rescue. "What days are you volunteering at Second Chances?"

Luke looked surprised by her question. "I tend to go on the weekend's first thing in the morning. You?"

"Afternoons and evenings… I found out when you were going and tried to make it so I wouldn't see you." She wanted to check she'd got her information right.

Had those words really just come out of her mouth?

"Thanks."

"Sorry." She hadn't phrased that in the best way. "Maybe… maybe we could go together though?"

"I'd like that," Luke told her. "I'd like that a lot."

Penelope Garcia was pleased; she had just offered an olive branch and it had been taken.

#garvez #criminal minds #penelope garcia #luke alvez #penelope and luke #smut #lemons #we meet again #new chapter #romance #friendship #hurt #comfort

9 notes · View notes

letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

The Trail Begins || Ariana, Matty, & Simon

TIMING: After this (x) and this (x) PARTIES: @likeamattoutofhell @inconvenientsimonstrocity @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Simon find Ariana at Winn’s house when he goes to check up on him. They follow his trail to the cemetery to find a drunken Matty.

Normally, Simon didn’t think too much whenever someone he was acquainted with suddenly deactivated their social media - it happened all the time; people got bored, wanted to start with a clean slate, this that or the other, but something about this one seemed… fishy to Simon as he drove out to Winn’s house. They had been talking recently and the tone through the conversation along with what he’d been able to piece together regarding Winn’s displayed personality suggested that he wasn’t the type to do this unless something bad happened. He didn’t know, maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he was already too attached to Winn though they met once and Winn didn’t leave the best impression on loyalty to him. He shook his head and pulled into the driveway where he noted that Winn’s car - or at least the one he thought was Winn’s - was missing. He turned towards the house and his olfactory senses were filled with Winn’s scent that he managed to recognise. Tilting his head slightly and with a swipe at his nose… already, he knocked on the door loudly. “Winn?” He called, his voice coming across clearly but not loudly.

After Blanche left, Ariana went into Winn’s house to discover the front door was totally unlocked and the place looked like it had been absolutely ransacked. Yeah, maybe fighting with Blanche in wolf form was a dumbass decision, but it wasn’t enough to warrant running off like this. She frowned, seeing that even Denny was gone. She was looking under a floorboard that had been pulled up when she could vaguely hear the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice calling. She jumped up and ran to the door. “Simon, is that you,” she asked before swinging the door open anyway. She knew the answer. With a puzzled look, she said, “Wait, what are you doing here? Okay, I guess you could be asking me the same thing, huh. Winn’s not here. Was going to try and sniff out where he went if you’d like to come along.”

To his… mild surprise, it wasn’t Winn that answered the door but Ariana and Simon glanced down at her, the look on his face suggesting as such. “Winn’s not here?” He asked, realising as they spoke that he was glad that he didn’t text Ariana - last time he wanted to investigate, he effectively got told that it was none of his business and that riled up something inside of him so he decided this time that he was just going to take action, unusual as that felt. BUT she was here and so was he. He peered over her at the interior of the house, already seeing the general disarray of it. “What happened? Where is he--” She just said he wasn’t here and that she was going to try to find him. Speaking of sniffing, he did and rubbed his nose again. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I’ll come,” He offered. At least he was being invited this time. “Got any leads?”

Even though Ariana didn’t believe there was any immediate danger, she still felt better having Simon come along with her. This whole thing left her head reeling and Simon was good at calming her down. She was pretty pissed at Winn for this stupid idea to begin with and every part of her wanted to give him a good smack for being an idiot. Simon could probably neutralize that side of her. He was pretty good about that. Stepping aside so he could come in, Ariana began to explain, “Well, he had the genius idea of sparring with our human friend… who is like, my size, as a fucking wolf. She was trying to get him to back down, but he didn’t, so she yeeted him into a tree and he lost control. And has now apparently run off because clearly that’s a great idea.” She shrugged at the mention of leads as she continued looking around the house, “My main instinct was to follow my nose.”

Simon listened intently as she ran the situation by him, feeling his brow furrow at the mention of getting into a spar with someone as small as Ariana. Arranged fights were fine, as a concept - few things trained better than a controlled fight such as wrestling or swordplay - but he couldn’t help but wonder what the goal was when someone who was Winn’s size as a human and possibly even bigger as a wolf got into a spar with a girl that size. He assumed SHE wasn’t a wolf, so the question of ‘why’ burned into him. The interior of the house was a mess, almost as though it had been looted, he observed as he walked around methodically and felt his old forensic mind taking the reins for just a few minutes, at least. What was he hiding under the floorboards that this scenario would prompt him to tear up? Something precious, he assumed, but no less secret. He had a feeling that whatever happened between Ariana’s friend and Winn had triggered some part of him into believing that here wasn’t good for him anymore - him or others. It happened often with children who ran away from home - sometimes rebelling, but almost always as a means to escape, to feel in control.

“Well, we know why he isn’t getting messages anymore,” Simon crouched on the ground and picked up the ruined phone. He didn’t want to be found or tracked? Why smash it other than in an aggressive action? “That’s probably our best bet,” Placing the phone back down and straightening up, Simon acknowledged Ariana’s suggestion, keeping his tone calm as he noted that Ariana seemed fired up about this; he fully understood why considering how emotionally invested she got when it came to the safety of her friends. “I’ll let you lead--” He cut himself off and turned to sneeze thrice into his elbow. “Sorry. The way,” He sniffled and pulled out a packet of tissues; the swirl of Ariana and Winn’s scents and Denny’s dander about the house (combined with Beans who now hopped up on all his furniture at home) must’ve caught up to him, he thought. “Your nose probably works better than mine, at the moment.” He said rather lightly, hoping to lift the mood at least a little - it was easier to think clearly when the aura wasn’t so dour.

Of all the people that could have showed up, Ariana was glad it was Simon. He was always so good at maintaining a level-head about things even though he could be a little spazzy. She loved him for it though. She watched as he looked around Winn’s home. Simon was able to pick up on more of the nuances than she had been. Part of her had still been so pissed off that he did something so reckless and then ran from it. What happened to being sure to reach out to him if she needed anything at all? She knew he was probably feeling out of sorts, guilty, or some other crazy combination of emotions, but this wasn’t the answer. The whole place paired with Simon’s word made it pretty clear he was running off which only served to make her more pissed off. “Clearly he took the time to deactivate his shit before smashing his phone. Because running off is such a great idea,” she huffed.

Ariana shook her head. There was no use in stewing in anger right now. Winn needed them and the longer they waited, the less likely it was that they’d find him. She let out a big sigh and said, “I know, I know. He’s going through a lot of his feelings right now. Doesn’t change the fact I’m mad at him.” She took in one last sniff of his scent before turning to Simon and directing, “Let’s go. The sooner we find him the better.” With her eyes closed, she walked ahead trying to pick up on the faint traces of himself he left behind. Her nose was leading the way and her feet were quick to follow.

“It’s okay to be mad and frustrated,” Simon remarked mildly, noting the younger girl’s emotions that were running high. He was being truthful; it was frustrating for him too, especially after having that conversation about sticking together and being honest with one another to Winn a couple days after the ‘pack meeting’ - he would wonder if that was a ‘Bitten’ issue but Lucas apparently did the same thing... Martyring himself because ‘no one would understand, no one can help’. “You’re doing well so far; just try to follow your anger with - here’s that word again - patience,” He gave a gentle, if watery smile to Ariana as the latter picked up the trail and motioned the way they were going as he tended to his face with a tissue. Being outside provided immediate relief - he was still learning about the double-edged sword that was the wolf’s immunity - but he was still thankful that Ariana had the double-benefit of being a Born wolf and being unhindered by-- He sneezed again. Aaand again. Though he wanted to, he decided not to apologise for his body’s uncontrollable spasms, painful as that decision felt. Ariana was moving fast - that was good, that meant she was maintaining a trail and he kept up with her easily enough, taking advantage of her leading the way to look around each area they paused in as if to pick up some other clues of his own. Nothing so far… disappointing. At least they had a trail.

Ariana appreciated that Simon always had a knack for validating her emotions. It had a relaxing effect, just being there and understanding what she was feeling. “Thanks, I’ll try to remember the whole patience part.” It was easier said than done, but she could try at least. She didn’t believe Winn had acted maliciously, but damn was his string of poor decisions really frustrating. She could give him shit for this is all once they found him. The trail of scent kept her attention. It was faint, but if she kept sniffing she could follow it. The sound of sneezing registered behind her and she called out, “Bless you.” It seemed like he was sneezing more than usual today, but maybe, he’d forgotten to take his allergy meds. She fumbled around briefly with her backpack, still sniffing her way toward Winn, and pulled out some Claritin and a small bottle of water. She turned to him and held them out, “Here, hope these help.” Her focus shifted back to the trail that seemed to be leading straight toward Candleton Cemetery. Why would he come here of all places? Winn really did have a flair for the dramatics.

There was something about Ariana, something that made a small part of Simon think that all his talk and advice and unwarranted preaching was worth something. Ariana listened, which he learned a long time ago was all that most people wanted. He wondered if Winn felt that fractured communication as the duo made their way; that no one would listen or possibly even that there wasn’t anything he could say. Speaking of listening, he felt a small rush embarrassment as Ariana turned to give him the bottle of medication paired with the water, both of which he took gratefully with a smile. Clever Ariana, ready on all fronts. If there was one good thing to have come out of her being raised on the road, it was that she was probably prepared for anything, including when he himself was being an actual liability instead of the one he usually called himself when he was being self-critical. “Thank you, my dear,” He replied thickly but with no less gentleness, continuing to follow her as he looked down to study the dosage he’d need. Double? By the time he looked back up after taking… he didn’t know, like seven and downing half the bottle of water, they seemed to have found themselves in a cemetery… or at least outside of one. “What an unusual detour,” He said out loud, quirking an eyebrow. Had he paid a visit to a lost loved one? That just added more complications in Simon’s mind but he kept his thoughts to himself for now.

Ariana hoped the meds helped Simon feel a bit better. The being allergic to yourself thing had to be rough. Plus, he was with her and Winn’s house was also home to a dog. She thought of it in present tense still even though he insisted on running off. It angered her still, but right now, she was focused on finding him. “Yeah, this definitely wouldn’t be my first stop, but clearly he’s being a little dramatic. Maybe there’s someone he knows buried here though,” Ariana mused curiously. She picked up her pace, trying to find him. She could still vaguely smell him, but she couldn’t see him or Denny anywhere. Where the hell was he? She found her fists curling into balls, ready to hit the next tree she saw, but she’d refrain. Trees broke your hands and she didn’t need a cast to clash with her prom dress. His scent was fading and she desperately looked around the cemetery with Simon close behind her before she happened upon a man. She approached him slowly, not wanting to invade, and did her best to calmly say, “I’m sorry to bother you. I was looking for a friend of mine.”

Honestly, Matty was pretty sure this was the most trashed he’d been since, fuck, 1985, maybe. He’d managed to scrape himself out of that broken-down crypt, once night fell again - but not much further. Wasn’t like he had anywhere to be, though. Conveniently. So he’d settled in, still drifting on the far edge of all that tequila. And just, just starting to feel the ash burn out, into the usual fever. Shit, man. That’s where he’d been at, sitting back against some mossy, smashed up masonry, eyes screwed shut, shirt barely buttoned, when someone started talking. Out of the swirl of the comedown. Matty jerked, full-body about it, staring around at... a girl, and a guy. That’s it? Pretty regular looking. No stakes. Or swords. Solid. He sniffed, his skin itching. She was asking something. A friend of hers. “Sure, no, uh… no bother, that’s…” Oh. Oh, fuck. Their smell. Kinda musky? Fresh, though, layered over what was left of that werewolf, from earlier. Winn. Great. This - this was the pack, huh? Throwing a weak wave at the dude hovering close by, Matty rubbed a hand across his face, his nose, and shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, I’ve been kinda… checked out…” He licked his lips, dry, nervous. “What’s your friend like?”

The older wolf stayed relatively close to Ariana, managing to quiet himself down as they looked around the old graveyard. Simon hadn’t been to a graveyard since arriving in White Crest but he figured they didn’t often smell like… alcohol? The scent managed to trickle through what was left of his breathing passages and he turned his head just before Ariana found the apparent source. It wasn’t often he happened upon someone who looked almost as homeless as him but here they were. He stayed quiet as Ariana initiated the conversation, feeling himself tense up like he was readying to attack. But why? There didn’t seem to be anything particularly notable about this guy other than the convenience of Winn’s trail indiscriminately leading them to him. He was clearly not expecting to be awoken either and Simon noted the movements of his hands, the way his arms and body adjusted. Hungover? Perhaps dehydrated. Drug use? Maybe given the attention he was giving to his face, but too soon to tell. Simon forced himself to loosen up and he took a more casual stance next to Ariana, folding up the tissue he’d been using and putting his thumbs in his pockets. “He’s a bigger guy, well-shaped and at least part-Asian,” He started lightly, his tone warm, if still congested. “Facial hair, boisterous personality. Very, ah... “ He fell quiet-- well, quieter. “Very rambunctious. He appreciates attention.” He smiled slightly despite why they were there. With that description, he lifted the tissue once more as if it acted as a method to mute him, allowing Ariana to take the lead once more - this was technically her mission, after all.

Ariana had been so hyper-focused on locking in on Winn’s scent that she hadn’t immediately smelled the alcohol in the air around the man. Getting drunk in the graveyard… now that was a mood. Not her mood, but still a mood. She pulled her phone out of her backpack and pulled up a selfie she had snapped of her and Winn. She turned her phone around and extended it so the man could see. “He’s the one that doesn’t look like me,” she explained, “Have you seen him around here at all?” His scent was fading and she turned back to the man, focusing on his heartbeat to detect any sign of lying. Only she hadn’t heard one. Well then, that explained the whole hanging out drunk in a cemetery. “His trail ends here and we’re trying to find him. We think he may be in trouble.”

The nodding was a bit kneejerk, at this point, but. Matty listened along, looked close. Blinked, bloodshot and too warm, enough to at least tip his stomach, if not turn it all the way. Fuck. Definitely Winn. “Right,” he stammered, brushing some of that loose, tangling hair out of his face. Looking closer. Not that he had to, obviously, just... buying time. Winn hadn’t talked about trouble, exactly. Not the outside kind. There’d been the guy, the asshole, he’d mentioned. Dude in the back didn’t strike him as the type, though. But. Matty didn’t know these people. Couldn’t say how legit the whole “friend” thing was, between them. (Sounded pretty real. Didn’t it?) If Winn had wanted to have the… family, or whatever, to know where he was - wouldn’t he have called, or something? People did that, now. Cellphones, and shit. “Uh…” Matty sat back, with a wince. Just had to make a call. Come on - him and Winn, they’d finished a magnum between the headstones. Done some pretty fuckin’ serious talking, even, you know, as strangers. If the dude wanted some time to himself, or whatever, that wasn’t for Matty to screw with. Not like he sold people out for kicks. He shook his head, decisively. “Nope. Never seen him.” Except, if he could smell Winn, still - they sure as shit could. “I was pretty out of it last night, though, like… I’m the last motherfucker in this place you should be asking, honestly.” That, with a thin laugh, swallowed quick. Fuck, man. Had to hope this wasn’t the wrong call. The kind that ended in a gruesome mauling...

He was having trouble thinking of this venture as “exciting” considering the incredibly foolish spontaneity Winn displayed that led to this fine comedy of errors but something almost felt familiar to Simon as the duo asked the graveyard rockstar regarding the whereabouts of their… friend. Pack member. Both. Both? Yes, Winn was still in the pack in his mind, despite some valid protests from other party members. He listened and took to wandering off as Matty stuttered out an answer-- or… what he probably considered the equivalent of one, keeping one of his hands in his pockets as the other absently messed with his own face, hovering between that and scratching at his neck. Part of him didn’t buy it; he trusted Ariana’s tracking ability more than this guy’s “witness testimony”. Another part of him was hoping there’d be some clue they could glean that didn’t depend on the rockstar’s word; some newly-disturbed earth, another trail, tangible evidence, something. He glanced over at the guy slouched on the ground, his brow furrowed slightly and his expression rather sharp though his reddened eyes betrayed him somewhat. Nah, he was slick. This guy was, too and though he wasn’t hearing a lying heartbeat (perhaps because he didn’t hear a heartbeat at all), he allowed himself to be led by his intuition… since his nose obviously wasn’t doing it for him. He wanted to give his two cents but he kept the comment to himself and his body, for some reason, decided to fill the silence with another sneeze. “It’s your call, Ariana,” He replied, sniffling. “What do you want to do?” He asked, hoping she knew that he’d follow her down whatever path she took at that moment; yeah, she was young but he trusted her lead and would be there to temper her more extreme decisions if it came to that.

Ariana wasn’t sure just how much she believed Matty, but with the shape he was in, she didn’t feel like there was too much point in pushing it. Still, she arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re sure you haven’t seen him. Because it smells like he was right here,” she pushed, trying to determine if he really was just drunk and clueless. It was unlikely Winn told him where he was going, but a direction would have at least been helpful. He did look pretty disheveled and it was possible they were wasting time. Her boot tapped against the ground, anxious to move again. To get to Winn before he made any rash decisions. Although running off and deactivating any form of contacting you already was. Ugh. Why did the wolves insist on cutting themselves off from others? That’s not what they were supposed to do. Maybe she hadn’t grown up with a pack, but she knew they had to look out for each other. She felt herself getting exceedingly frustrated again and tried to remember Simon’s words of remembering to throw patience into the mix. Okay, okay. Whatever was going on wasn’t the fault of some drunk, probably vampire, in the cemetery. “Right, yeah, sorry didn’t mean to get a little intense there. But really, if you’ve seen him, something happened and his phone is broken. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Oh, no, no no. Matty didn’t like the looks he was catching, here. Werewolves, man - even this way, human-looking, they were pretty fuckin’ amped up. That much, he knew. Had seen it himself, at the Ring. And even before then, in the wild. Well, some warehouse in Chicago. Close enough. Pulling his legs in a little closer, Matty was eyeing between the two of them, honestly not sure which might be the bigger problem, if he tried to make a break for it. Sniffly dude. Tiny girl. Hammered vampire. Be a riot of a chase, huh? He cleared his throat and shrugged again, as the kid kept going. “Told you. I - I don’t know him. Didn’t see anybody.” Really didn’t owe Winn losing an arm to some pissed off packmates. No, sir. But. They hadn’t pounced yet. She was prickling, though. Until she wasn’t. “No problem, yeah,” Matty brushed it off, earnestly. Sure, werewolf-grade intensity. Not a big deal. Not fuckin’ terrifying. “We’re good. We’re cool.” Definitely shouldn’t have finished the tequila. Maybe shouldn’t have lied. “I hope you find him, seriously. Like, best of luck.” Somewhere else. Far away, preferably.

As the two talked, Simon was inclined to agree with the mindset he was sure Ariana was taking; something was fishy about this guy. He blew his nose which, coupled with the medicine Ariana gave him earlier, helped clear out his sinuses where the sour bite of alcohol mixed with Winn’s faint scent was much more prevalent. Did this guy break out of a brewery? He frowned though he wanted to give Ariana a pat on the shoulder for her being calm… even if it was evident the rockstar’s dismissive, unhelpful attitude was weighing on her nerves. He popped his neck, not necessarily in an aggressive gesture though the noise crackled through the tension that was filling the air. “Hmm…” He hummed absently, giving the hungover individual another, rather gentle look. He sighed. “Do you remember any of where you were or what happened recently?” He found himself asking, his tone still calm. A small part of him was frustrated himself, sure; Winn was missing and SOMETHING had to have happened between this guy and Winn to cover him. He wondered if the stale smell of alcohol had to do with it. He paced as they talked, trying to find a ‘hot spot’ for Winn’s scent for the trail… maybe mixed with booze? Was that too obtuse of a thought?

Wasn’t that a sound right out of high school. The pop-snap of a neck thicker than his, attached to somebody who’d probably be happy to deliver a bit of over the counter amateur chiropractic. Matty slid up against the crypt he’d been propped against, so suddenly it surprised him; his legs didn’t hold out, though, and he took a lean, rather than, you know. Standing. Even standing, fuck. What kinda question was that, anyway? Like it was any of his business, Jesus. “Yeah, no. Had a rough fuckin’ day, alright?” He cracked, a little. God, it’d only been - not long, since he heard. About her. Bennie. Why he was here, dealing with this. Matty pressed back against the lichen-y stones, trying to stay as still as he possibly could, while the ground kept rolling under him. “I’ve been here. Inside,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the mausoleum he’d spent the daylight hours in. “Pissed faceless. For a while. I didn’t see your pal, I swear to Christ, I didn’t...” If he could still do that. Swear to anything. No lightning yet, so. Solid.

Ariana found herself annoyed with the man even though he was minding his own business getting drunk in a cemetery. Was this a normal undead thing or was he just messy? It wasn’t any of her business anyway. She let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Okay, you don’t know shit. Maybe try to like… get it together for your own sake though.” She turned back to Simon, ready to refocus back on the task at hand. Winn’s scent was starting to fade and they needed to move fast. Her head was still shaking as she turned back to Simon. “Let’s go. His scent is fading, if we’re going to find him we need to keep moving.” She gave a wave to the drunk vampire and tried to follow Winn’s smell. They made it through more of the cemetery, but it seemed to be completely lost. “Shit,” she grumbled to Simon, “I don’t think we can find him, at least not using our noses. Scent is too faded for me to track him.”

Getting nowhere fast. Patience aside, Simon straightened up and exchanged glances with Ariana, giving a small nod to indicate that he was ready when she was; he could argue he was ready even before that given the uselessness of the drunken rockstar. “I’m sorry you had a rough night,” He remarked honestly to the guy before going back over to Ariana’s side and giving her a gentle smile even though their hunt hadn’t yielded any results, at least not useful ones. They knew he fled, then came to the cemetery, then… the rest was between him and the hungover individual. “You did the best you could,” He said to her, opting to give her a pat on the shoulder this time. “And you kept calm. That’s perfect for a hunter like yourself.” He exhaled. “Sorry that guy back there wasn’t… cooperative but you did good.” He motioned with his head to go back to Winn’s house. “C’mon, lemme get you some food or something.” He hid the worry in his head with his casual tone, hoping not to give the impression that he didn’t care but that was’t further from the truth. He just didn’t see the point in being so openly concerned when there wasn’t anything they could do at that specific moment in time. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something else. You’re clever like that.”

#the trail begins #simon #matty #matt #wickedswriting #i forget which tag i use for matty oops

12 notes · View notes