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longing-for-the-past-times · 8 months

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The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - four.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: Price decides to have a movie night on base. You and Ghost have The Talk.

warnings: occasional swearing, man written by a woman (may have slightly idealised Ghost), miscommunication, emotionally constipated Ghost and reader, the episodic mentions of Ghost's groaning and blonde eyelashes, brief appearance of Keegan Russ, mentions of smoking

notes: this was not supposed to be this long, but ideas just kept coming and coming. As I have mentioned before, this was initially intended to be a filler chapter for the "grand finale" (aka the one where he falls asleep on you) - so this is why the ending may seem a little bit rushed.

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

four.

“So you want to have a movie night here, on base?”

“A movie night, tonight?”

“Can we bring snacks? And drinks?”

“What are we going to watch?”

Seated at his usual place in the mess hall, Captain John Price found himself struggling to hide the proud, fatherly smile that threatened to spread on his face. He was surprised by the enthusiasm with which his idea of a movie night had been met, yet there you were, all curious and excited about it. You were seated between Soap and Gaz, your food momentarily forgotten as you started planning the entire evening around his proposal. You three were so caught up in debating whether you should mix in all types of popcorn with nachos that you did not notice the insistent glances of the passersby. Or the aggressive glares that Ghost was shooting back, his balaclava only highlighting the coldness of his features.

It was the second day after your night out at the pub and after thinking about the events over and over again, he accepted, with resignation, that his innate need to protect you and keep you from harm's way had only grown stronger. Ghost was a man of few words and certainly, not one to publicly display his feelings, so when you came to him in the morning and thanked him for taking care of you when you got wasted, he just shrugged it off with a piss-poor remark that you would do the same for him. He did not miss the blush that spread across your face when you answered that you absolutely would, if there would ever be such an occasion, and left him with an awkward pat on the shoulder. Which was kind of ironic since, two nights before, you climbed him like a beanstalk and clung to him like a koala.

And there he was, longing for any kind of interaction from you, like the touch-starved mess that he'd become. He would have placed himself next to you at the table, but he didn't want to give Price more satisfaction - the older man had already figured out enough about the intensity of his feelings about you, the Polaroid that Simon now kept safely tucked in his wallet being proof of it.

And what was this with Price's sudden idea of a movie night? Ghost knew the Captain insisted on having a united team whose members can trust each other, after all that's why he handpicked you all to join, but another gathering besides the night spent at the pub was way too much for his social battery.

At least you had all accepted his quiet persona from the beginning, not attempting to push his buttons more than it was necessary.

Until you fell asleep on him in the lounging room.

And then again at the safe house.

And then again at the pub.

"Ghost, do you copy?"

Your delicate voice pulled him out of his thoughts, only for him to be met with the questioning look that was etched in your face.

"I know that look!", Soap quickly chimed in, a daring smirk on his face. "Who's the lucky woman, L.T.?"

"Or man- which is totally fine too!", Gaz added with an equal devious expression.

Both of them shut up when Ghost shot them his signature threatening look, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the tender smile on your face slightly falter. Before giving anyone the chance to further ruin the moment, he willed his eyes on you, softening his voice as much as he could:

"I'm sorry, Bambi. 'were you saying?"

"Would you like to join me later on a trip to the supermarket for snacks? I don't trust these two menaces with such an important task!"

He gulped loudly at the sight of the pleading look in your eyes, not entirely sure if you were just playing him, or if the doe eyes were really making a return. At that point, Simon had already memorized your features, being able to draw them with his eyes closed, but his heart still fluttered upon seeing your large and round irises, brimming with innocence and tenderness.

Additionally, he could feel Price's unwavering gaze burning into the back of his head. And he had a feeling the Captain would force his ass into the first available car and drag him to the supermarket with you.

"Sure - we can take my car... plenty of space for groceries", his words trailed off at the sight of the satisfied grin you gave him, your eyes brimming with joy. "We could go after the combat training if it's ok with you..."

"Absolutely! Thanks, Ghost, you're the best!"

You rose from your seat and placed your hands on his shoulders in what was meant to be half a hug before jogging out of the mess hall, a hot blush spreading across your cheeks.

The memories of the previous night were still blurry in your head, but you could recall the unique feeling of your cheek being pressed against a chest - Ghost's chest, the distinct smell of him still lingering on the black t-shirt you had neatly folded and placed on your bed. You did not plan to wash it any time soon.

You had thanked Ghost for taking care of you, but after the morning coffee chat you had with Soap, you actually felt the need to apologize for being such a burden. Of course, Soap had been just as intoxicated as you, so you couldn't place too much trust in his words. However, the recent teasing about the person that occupied Ghost's thoughts, made you feel uneasy about the whole situation. Were you being too clingy and touchy towards him - did you cross any of his boundaries? You hadn't even realised when you'd let your guard down in his presence, but it was certain that falling asleep on him without any negative reaction from his side, marked a significant step in that direction.

But now you had a chance to figure things out in the way adults do: by openly communicating with him. And the trip to the supermarket was the perfect cover-up for it.

You just had to keep to yourself until then - maybe try to limit your interactions with him as overstepping his boundaries was the last thing you'd wanted to do. It couldn't be that hard, right?

---

It was barely noon, and Ghost couldn't figure out what he'd done so wrong to make you avoid him like the plague. Did you get upset at him for not returning the hug? Did he not seem excited enough about the trip to get snacks?

Did someone put something in your food and you suspected him?

He thought it was nothing at first. After all, it would have been unusual for you to sit next to him at the morning briefing as you usually had a spot next to Gaz. But then you did not even seem to acknowledge his presence at the shooting range, barely muttering a greeting when passing him on the way to the lockers.

And now, ironically enough, you chose to spar with one of the Ghosts- none other than their scout sniper, Keegan Russ. On the one hand, it was actually a good move: you could learn and trade tips and tricks with a sniper as good as he was. On the other hand, Simon did not like the way his hands seemed to linger over your body every time you mounted an attack, or how his chest puffed when he was trying to walk you through some new move. Like him, Keegan always wore a balaclava in public, but unlike him, the younger operator did not seem to care about hiding his emotions: everyone could tell that he was smirking as he extended his hand to help you get up after he'd mercilessly tossed you on the mat.

Yet the next thing he knew, he was the one making contact with the mat, his back absorbing most of the impact. The sudden reversal in the sparring match left him momentarily disoriented, his eyes still searching for you and your new combat partner. It wasn't until he spotted Soap's concerned expression, the Sergeant hesitantly hovering above him, that he showed any intention of getting up. The Scot subtly followed his line of sight until his eyes landed on you and Keegan. You were beaming at him as he seemed to tell you a story based on the frantic way his hands moved, his icy blue eyes fixed on you as he spoke.

"Seems I got ya good, L.T.", Soap said as he helped Ghost back on his feet, giving him a slight pat as an apology. "Do you want to call it a day or-?"

He could barely hide his smirk before receiving a growl and a criminal side-eye in response. And he let his guard down as the next thing he knew, his arm was caught in a firm grip and his body flew over Ghost's shoulder, landing on the training mat with a loud thud. He could not stifle the groan that escaped him and closed his eyes in resignation. Once again, he learnt the hard way not to mess with the big man with the scary mask.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, MacTavish. We're here to train, not to ogle at others!"

"Copy that, sir!"

---

"I'm just telling you, Keegan, you've got to man up and talk to her!", you said between breaths as you dodged his incoming shots. "You wanted girl advice from a girl? Now you have it!"

"How can I know it won't just scare her off? Should- should I take off my mask, do you think that she'll see that as a clear sign that - you know?"

"It'll definitely be a step in that direction..."

Your words momentarily trailed off as you stole a glance at Ghost who was currently caught up in his own sparring match with Soap. He'd traded his usual skull mask for one of his balaclavas, and he wore his usual black t-shirt that allowed you to fully take in his tattoed arms, rippling with muscles and scars. Maybe limiting your interactions with him was a bad idea. Not that you had something against teaming up with Keegan - you two needed to do some catching up - and it was just the right time for it, but you felt you could have learnt a lot from the Lieutenant.

And at that moment you didn't mind being pinned to the ground by him, just like he did with Soap.

"So did you convince him to take his mask off?"

Keegan's question took you by surprise, as did his left foot, which interlocked with yours and sent you falling face-first. You could tell he was smirking under the balaclava as he helped you back up, and a grin also spread on your face as you shook your head in acceptance:

"Why would I ever do that?"

"Because I can feel his death stare on me right now and... I saw the picture from the lounging room. I think it was rather cute, you know?"

"No, I don't..."

The words came out slowly as your mind was trying to figure out what he could be talking about. The only pictures you had with Ghost were the ones taken after important missions, the ones with the other members of Task Force 141 and whoever may have been involved. And it was safe to say they could not be described as "cute".

"Oh come on, don't play dumb - the Polaroid picture from the lounging room? The one where you-"

"Sergeant L/N, 'you ready to go? I'll meet you at the car in 10."

Despite having interrupted your conversation, Ghost did not seem fazed by it. He didn't even wait for your confirmation- just turned his back on you and started walking towards that door with a certain smugness in his gait. As he took in the scene, Keegan's smirk widened under the mask. He may have needed girl advice, but boy- scratch that -special forces operator advice was a topic he was well versed in.

"I wouldn't make him wait if I were you", he resumed shrugging his shoulders and giving you a sympathetic look. "And thanks for the advice, I'll keep you posted on the situation!"

---

It took you 7 minutes to get changed and jog to Ghost's usual parking spot and he was already there, smoke in his hand. Even so, you felt the need to mutter a quick apology before getting in and fastening your seatbelt. Ghost was quick to follow, hopping into the driver's seat and starting the car.

He internally sighed when the radio began playing. It was going to be a long ride.

You, on the other hand, rested your head against the window, your mind brimming with questions about the mysterious picture that Keegan had mentioned. It was true that you had not checked the wooden panel for any new additions- at one point, you had completely forgotten about it, but it seemed some people took it seriously.

Involuntarily, your gaze slipped to Ghost. The Lieutenant was focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel while another rested on the gearstick. He was unusually calm and collected, unlike the chaotic driver you were used to. Did he know about the picture too? Was it bothering him in any way?

The car came to a sudden stop, brakes screeching on the hot concrete as he steered into an empty parking spot. You shot him a confused look as he turned off the engine and turned towards you, his chocolate eyes filled with questions:

"I've had enough", he began in a gruff tone that softened when his eyes landed on your face. "Come on, Bambi, out with it!"

You raised your eyebrows at his question, even if, deep down, you knew it was time for The Talk.

And you were so not prepared for it. So you decided to play dumb.

"Out with what? Do you want me to get out of the car or-?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

His tone was even and his eyes too gentle for your liking. Part of you had wanted to get him all riled up so that you could justify the outburst that you were on the verge of having. Yet he only raised an eyebrow in question, leaning in the driver's seat and crossing his arms:

"You've been acting weird all day- ignoring and avoiding me. And you kept staring at me for the past quarter of an hour yet now you won't even look me in the eye! You've got to give me a hand here, Bambi because I have no idea what I did wrong!"

It was the second time in the past week that you'd heard him talk that much in one sitting, yet you were busy managing your stress levels, which were currently shooting through the roof. Turns out, you were not ready for The Talk. Communication was overrated anyway-

"You- you didn't do anything wrong and...", you answered incoherently, your mind trying to make sense of the words that were leaving your mouth.

"Y/N..."

"OK, fine! I-am-sorry-for-being-such-a-burden-to-you-and-intruding-your-personal-space-and-falling-asleep-on-you-without-having-your-permission-and-"

"What the hell are you talking about? Who- who even implied that you are a burden to me? Was it Russ- do I need to have a chat with him?"

"Oh no, Keegan had nothing to do with it. He was actually asking me for advice about this nurse he met and- you know what? Yeah, let's not go there..."

"I fully agree", Ghost nodded in compliance, partly amused by the unexpected oversharing side of you. "But, Bambi, you... You could never be a burden to any of us. Do you understand that?"

A sudden wave of clarity swept over your thoughts after you talked about it, and with it also came the furious blush that made you bury your face in your hands:

"God, I'm so embarrassed now..."

"Hey, hey, look at me!"

Ghost tried to control the faint shaking of his gloved hand as he placed it on your shoulder. He had figured out something was wrong, but would have never thought that you would see yourself as a burden, that you would intrude on his personal space? Why would you even think of such nonsense in the first place?

"If this is about you getting wasted at the pub, then you've got it all wrong!", he decided to continue when you lowered your hands and exposed the upper half of your face.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, would you quit looking at me with those doe-eyes? You have no idea what you are doing to me right now..."

He did not realise he said it out loud until you widened your eyes even more and proceeded to hide your face in your hands again, muttering a string of apologies. He let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head in disbelief. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would have to spend the afternoon like that, having this kind of talk in his car, in a random parking lot. Yet there you were, two operators, seemingly with no communication skills and a penchant for hiding your faces in masks and hands.

With careful moves, Ghost removed his gloves, trying to ignore the stark contrast between his fingers and yours. He then extended his hands towards yours, gently pulling them away from your face. The sight of your E/C eyes made him let out a soft sigh:

"I did not mean it like that... there is nothing wrong with the doe-eyes. There's a reason they call you Bambi after all.."

You let out a dry chuckle, your eyes still glued to the ground as you were relishing in the warm feeling of his touch. His hands haven't left yours- in fact, he pulled them into his lap and was currently playing with the metal ring you've quickly slipped on before leaving.

"I don't know who or what made you think you intruded on my personal space. You didn't."

His pause made you raise your eyes back to his face, momentarily losing yourself in his chocolate orbs. Your doe-eyes may have been one of his weaknesses, but his blonde eyelashes were going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.

"And you falling asleep on me? It - I can't believe I'm actually saying it out loud and correct me if I'm wrong in any way - it made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby- and not once, but thrice now..."

"Wait- you mean twice, right?"

His chuckle made you widen your eyes in disbelief. He was definitely smirking under the mask.

"Ghost, when was the third time?"

"I just told you all this deep and emotional stuff and this is what you decide to focus on?"

"Well, I am not good at dealing with emotions, as you can see!". The blush was making a rapid comeback.

"The point is", he resumed his idea, "that you have no reasons to think you are a bother to me. You are not. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ghost rolled his eyes as he turned the engine back on and gently let go of your hands, the remnants of your touch still warm on his fingers. He rolled out of the parking lot with ease, trying hard not to replay the awkward conversation that just took place, when your voice chimed in:

"Does this mean... hypothetically speaking, if I were to fall asleep during the movie night, and I were seated next to you..."

"Should I be concerned about your sleeping schedule? Or actually, the lack of it?"

---

You let out a brief sigh of relief as you got out of the car and headed towards the base, Ghost closely following you with two heavy bags in his hands. He refused to let you carry the bags under the pretence of having already trained hard enough today, but you knew it was just his specific way of reassuring you that things were good between the two of you.

As awkward as it had been, The Talk seemed to have cleared out any miscommunication issues you may have created inside your mind, and it certainly made you not feel bad about the moments you had drifted off on his shoulder. Or arms. Or whatever else place.

And as he was headed towards the kitchen, you made a bee-line to the lounging room, which, to your luck, proved to be empty. You turned on the lights and stopped in front of the wooden panel, your eyes quickly moving from one Polaroid picture to another. It had been a while since you last checked them as there were several additions that you hadn't been aware of: a blurred selfie of Soap and Gaz, a still shot of an unknown operator sipping his tea, a picture of Price, dozing off on his armchair and there it was, a snapshot of you, fast asleep on Ghost's shoulder, the Lieutenant staring at the camera with a blank look.

"I couldn't stop Soap from taking it."

You involuntarily flinched when you heard Ghost's amused voice. He must have snuck up on you as he was currently standing on your right, his eyes fixed on the picture at hand.

"Keegan mentioned it during combat training. I didn't even know it was there", You shrugged your shoulders at him.

"Does it bother you?"

There was something indescribable in his tone that made you halt for a second and look up at him. The glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes was not missed on you and your mind recalled the details of your previous conversation.

"It made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby"

"No, I actually kind of like it. Don't you?"

He let out a grunt as confirmation and you tried to fight the smile that threatened to spread on your face. You opened your mouth to tease him about it when Price, Gaz and Soap entered the lounging room, already having changed into civilian clothes. You quickly forgot what you were about to say when you noticed that Price was holding a DVD in his hands- and not just any DVD:

"We're going to watch 'The Bodyguard'?"

The captain busied himself with setting up the DVD player, but you could tell there was a smile on his face:

"What can I say? Your toast inspired me, Bambi!"

You shot a questioning look at Gaz who seemed equally as confused as you were, but then looked over at Soap who was chuckling under his breath:

"I may have left that bit out!", he confessed with a guilty grin, as he sat down on one of the sofas, Gaz joining him quickly.

"You don't remember the toast?", Ghost asked amusedly, having already taken his usual place on the couch. "You called Price 'the cool dad of the group' before blasting out 'I Will Always Love You' on karaoke."

Letting out a long sigh of defeat, you sat down next to Ghost, shaking your head in disbelief. That part of the night was still an empty space in your mind, and listening to bits of it did not help you remember anything about it. Yet you were not surprised by the music choice - it was your usual shower song so why not sing it when totally intoxicated as well?

"You also thanked Simon for taking care of you during the missions and letting you fall asleep on him", Price added quickly before Ghost could interject, a glimpse of his proud dad smile dancing on his face.

You raised your eyes to Ghost in a sheepish look, only to see him roll his eyes and extend his right arm on the couch, almost as an invitation for you to come closer. The lights were turned off and the movie started, but that did not stop you from raising an eyebrow in question. He merely nodded in your direction and you understood the message, trying to scoot over as quietly as possible. You hoped he hadn't heard the small sigh of satisfaction that left your lips when you cuddled up into his side, slightly leaning your head against his chest and taking a deep breath. You knew the movie by heart, it having been an integral part of your childhood, so instead of paying much attention to it, you redirected your efforts towards focusing on the multitude of sensations created by the close contact between Ghost's body and yours.

His familiar scent enveloped you like a comforting blanket, but it was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that made your eyelids heavy. There was something uniquely special about the whole situation- the intimacy and fragility of the moment mixed with the consistent cadence of his breaths and the occasional vibrations that would resonate from his chest, were lulling you to sleep.

And when you felt his fingers starting to trace circles on your back, you nestled your head in the crook of his neck and drifted off into a peaceful slumber. It seemed that lately, the only good sleep you got was in Simon's arms.

--- bonus scene

The movie had long ended, yet none of you made any attempt to get up and start cleaning after you. The lounging room was still dark, the faint light from the TV casting shadows on the opposite wall. Soap was loudly snoring, perched on his usual place on the sofa. Price had also dozed off in his designated armchair and Gaz was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, a blank look on his face.

Still leaning against Ghost's chest, you were trying to fight the last remnants of sleep that were still lingering around. You were aware that eventually you had to get up and go home, but Ghost's heartbeats were steady and reassuring and the weight of his arm on your back was comforting and warm enough to keep you trapped in between dream and reality.

You were debating whether you should open your eyes or not when, all of a sudden, the room was flooded with light, the unexpected brightness blinding your senses and making you let out a deep groan. You could feel Ghost shifting below, his arm leaving your back and you ended up opening her eyes when he whispered into your ear:

"Get up, Laswell's here!"

You eventually peeled yourself from Ghost, your mind having difficulties processing the piece of information - what was Laswell doing in England? Wasn't she supposed to be in the US, gathering intelligence and coordinating missions?

Yet there she was, in flesh and bone, already heading up the door as she signed you to follow her.

"I can't tell you how glad I am I've got you all here already", she turned to Price as she hurried towards the long hall and into the main briefing room. "It's better than having to call each one of you in the dead of the night.."

"Kate, slow down- what is going on?", John asked in a calming tone, throwing apprehensive looks at the files she was holding in her hands.

"Alright - is everybody here? Bambi, Soap, Gaz, Ghost?"

Laswell locked the door before going back to her usual place. Still dumbfounded from being woken up so suddenly, you looked up at Ghost, but the warm look in his eyes was long gone, replaced by the stone-cold one he sported during missions. You could tell that, internally, he was already preparing for whatever news Laswell was about to deliver. And the grim look plastered on her face, as she turned on the video projector, was foreboding enough:

"A shipment of biological weapons we've been tracking just went missing. We have good reason to suspect that our scouts have been compromised."

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#cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty imagine #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #keegan russ #ghost fluff #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff

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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months

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Bouquet of (lego)Wildflowers(Loser!Yan!Konig x fem!Reader)

After you fell into somewhat of a routine in your captivity, Konig decided to bring you something nice to sweeten the pill. One time when he didn't got it right, and the second time where he got everything just where he wanted.

Details count: 3356 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig, dry humping.

Courting a woman is hard and meticulous process.

First, you have to acquire a woman – preferably from a space that she goes to often, so you can immediately dissect whether she is right for you or not. Don’t go for a party girl if you can barely move in a dance and your liver isn’t the one of college athletes. Don’t go for a bookworm if you want your future wife(and this is also an important step, don’t be mistaken) to be able to put you in your place and then drink half a bottle of vodka. After you decide that the woman is, for sure, your type and you would be able to live with her for the foreseeable future, you need to step in for courting. And if you’re the type to zoom out during a conversation and stare at her hair(at least not her breasts, you’re already doing so good, you can have a cookie and a few war crimes for free), then your chances to court her properly are already slim. You’d be lucky if she wouldn’t call security to escort you out of the fine establishment you met her in. Even acquiring a name would be hopeless in this situation.

So, what are the next steps in getting a woman if you’re a 6’10 Austrian mercenary(a colonel at that) with almost 0 social skills besides yelling at recruits and taunting his enemies, and your callsign is also literally König, to make matters worse? You kidnap a woman, of course.

The problem is – König has done all of that. You and he obviously have the same interests, you are definitely his type, and there is no barriers between the two of you – you are literally sitting in his basement. Yet, he can’t quite seem to capture your heart. Your body didn’t stand an issue – if he wanted to, he’d fuck you every night and turn you into his personal fucktoy, all adorable and helpless…but he doesn’t want this. Not right now. Well, he probably does want to fuck you in every possible position, but he can wait. Can try to wait, at least. God, you deserve all the waiting.

He tried to bring you food. Nice food, fancy food. Sweets.

*** — What is this? You sit on the small mat in the basement – König promised he’d bring you a proper bed, but then he started to think that you’d get scared about staying in the basement for so long instead of wanting to get out and sleep in a nice bedroom, so he eventually decided to just let you sleep on a mat. Your knees are curled to your chest and you look like the prettiest thing out there. He doesn’t want to scare you, but it takes everything in him to not just scoop you in his arms like an unruly cat. He doesn’t want to be creepy, but, he is already keeping a captive younger woman in the basement of his house. It’s hard not to be creepy in a situation like this, right? He doesn’t want to, but…a lot of things are out of control right now. Well, not you – you’re in his control. Under it, so to say. Unfortunately, not under his body – not yet, at least, as much as he’d love to. König is trying to be patient, but then you tilt your head to the side and… She is so adorable, oh god, I can’t, Himmell, she is the prettiest, she is…He’d punch himself in the crotch just to get rid of the erection that is throbbing in his pants and threatening to erupt – but between staring at a cute girl tilting her head like a little bird, and punching himself in the balls König, surprisingly, would choose staring at a cute girl and suffering through his arousal. Silently. Really shocking decisions.

— It’s a snack. For you.

Yes, maybe, he went a little bit overboard. But he was just finishing shopping for his newest favorite thing in the world(you) with all the things that a girl living with you might need – pads, tampons, three extra sets of everything because he got too flustered to ask the assistants for advice, so he just grabbed everything that looked like it could stop bullet wound bleeding, and went for it. Also some clothes – he loved to see you naked, but a cute girl should wear cute clothes and, well, he kinda failed with getting you these ones – and pillows. Women love pillows, as he got from the social media some of his younger colleagues forced him to install.

Yes, maybe, König went a bit overboard for a kidnapper – but honestly, would you prefer him to just fuck you over and over? At least he is buying you deserts, at least he has enough to cover your needs, at least he is trying. You definitely should kiss him for this. It would totally be a normal behavior, of course, and obviously. — For me?

König thinks – you’re just as adorable as you are dumb. He wouldn’t have you any other way.

— For you.

— A snack?

It was exactly 4 boxes filled with cupcakes, little hand-made chocolate candies, and some weird, hipster-styled cookies without flour, sugar, and happiness – but he doesn’t know your favorite type of desert because, apparently, kidnapped girlfriends don’t come with a hand guide on how to feed them, and you already refused almost half of your meals until you finally succumbed to reality and started eating again. He wants you to be happy – not too happy that you’d start questioning him as your boyfriend, but at least happy enough to not be depressed that he forced you into the life of solitude. Which you, judging by the numbers on your bank account(he went through your phone, of course, saved every picture that could be used to jerk off and then smashed the sim cart so you couldn’t be found), could really prefer. He was doing you a service, really. At least now you can help him build Legos instead of just selling those.

— Stop this.

— Stop what? You tilt your head to the side, again, like an adorable bird that flew into the window of his car and got crushed because birds are, in fact, stupid and can’t see the glass. You don’t look too smart either – not with your escape attempts that consist of pleading with him to let you go, the action that only got his pants tighter and didn’t fill him with the desire to let you go. — You just repeating my words. You should eat.

You stare at the various deserts in front of you, looking like you don’t believe in his endless kindness and generosity. He understands you – he wouldn’t believe it either. He just wants for you to stop looking like a sad kitten that got splashed with water because you look to damn adorable like this. Too fucking precious. A man can’t even live with a captive girlfriend nowadays, she just has to be the most beautiful thing on earth and he is going to act like a peasant who shouldn’t even bother to bask in her presence. God, he is awful. And perverted. And a damn dog who, for sure, doesn’t deserve you.

— I don’t really want to…

— I brought you sweets. You don’t want it, Schatzen? You move your head from side to side, indicating that, well, you’re a spoiled little brat who has to get her butt spanked because why in hell would you be against him bringing you something nice? Women love deserts, right? Right?! — I…I appreciate it. But you, um…forgot to bring me normal food for the second day already, so…

Oh.

That’s right.

Scheisse.

*** Bringing you deserts didn’t work out – he did bring you normal food after this, obviously, he is a kidnapper, not a monster, but the problem with your loyalty and your love for him was still standing hard, just like his cock. Every time you begged him to finally give up and let you go, he’d spend an hour in his bedroom, jerking off to the memories of your pleading face. Every time you behaved like a brat, demanding him to let you go, he would spend two hours. It’s a vicious cycle that you can’t escape. Don’t want to, probably.

Bringing you fancy food didn’t work out – turns out, captive girlfriend needs to eat normal food too, just like all other humans, and so he went straight to the plan C. Plan L. Plan L would, hopefully, involve you getting a Plan B straight after.

— What is this?

He has the wildest feeling that he already lived through this situation. König thinks – hey, that’s weird, for some reason, you are behaving just like you did a week ago. So wild, that the girl you’re keeping in the basement isn’t prone to changing her behavior over short periods of time, right? He is petting your head again, making you squirm in his hold because of course you’re scared and nervous and just a bit dummy overall because hey, he wouldn’t hurt you, he promises!

With every passing second, he felt more and more stupid. What a dumb fucking idea, honestly – he went to the shop(online one, of course, can’t be risky with falling in love with another cute cashier) and brought you…stuff. Cool stuff, he thought. Probably not cool enough for a girl like you thought – for a girl that always looked like she is too good for this shit, for his shit, the of girl that probably wouldn’t bully him in highschool, but would come dangerously close to the point of indifference to someone like him.

With every passing second and your confused glare, he felt like just turning away and forgetting about everything that just happened. He already forgot to feed you on the previous week for a few days – he did apologize and he did bring you as much pizza and snacks and real salads (aka normal food that your empty stomach craved). He didn’t even force you to sit on his lap at that time! He is forcing you to do it now, trying to ease you into the feeling of his strong body around you.

König strands you on his lap like you’re an unruly cat – he smiles when you try to get out and only whine in his hold. He is strong, stronger than you should have anticipated – he knows he is big, but a lot of people tend to underestimate their opponents. Especially when said people don’t have a lot of experience in battle – König knows that he can defeat you with just one hand. He also knows that you don’t know this. Good for him, he supposes. You feel his erection throbbing in his pants, every time you jerk to try and get out of his hold, he only gets harder. You’re prone to notice that eventually, even that dumb little head of yours should be filled with something – but it’s almost like you’re teasing him, dragging your butt back and forth, over and over, like there is nothing else for you to do. He probably can get off just from the feeling of your flesh over his – he loves every second of it, knowing just how much you hate being here. You will learn, eventually. He is hugging you firmly, a hand over your waist – while the other is holding the box he brought to you. One of many boxes, actually – but he thought that maybe, since you act so sheepish around him, you could be the type of girl that only respects certain lego sets. So, he went out of his way(actually, not, since everything was delivered to his doorstep in like two days) to order you all possible lego flowers. You should like it. You have to like it.

— It’s a flower.

— A…lego flower?

He gently pushes his head down, kissing you carefully. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck like an overgrown cat – you swear you can hear him purr and it only makes you whimper more and more. It’s impossible, with him – you don’t want him next to you and yet, the only thing you can do is bite down on your sobs and carefully open one of the boxes. It’s pretty, really – and working at Lego store for so long, you know exactly how expensive this shit is.

You don’t want anything to do with it.

— I thought a normal bouquet would be too boring.

You’d love for him to serve you a bouquet of flowers with a tiny bit of keys from the basement as a special sprinkle. Knowing him, however, you will just get his dick with a bit of assault on top of it. It’s a miracle he didn’t try to shove his dick inside of you on day one.

You feel his cock throbbing against your naked ass.

Well, all miracles can’t last forever. A shame – you’d convert to christianity if a god would be arsed to protect you from the devil’s dick.

— I…I would have liked flowers.

You don’t even know if you’re lying or no. Flowers would be nice – anything to distract you from the psycho who has locked you up in his basement. Anything to distract you from the basement itself. A bit of color would make you feel less like a sad beige baby and more like a sad beige adult. Or a regular office worker.

— Okay. I will…will bring you flowers next time.

You tilt your head to the side, obviously not quite believing him. Honestly, König is quite frustrated with your attitude. While yes, he did forget to feed you quite a few times, was also caught jerking off to your sleeping form on more than one occasion, and also forced you to listen to his rants about Austrian gun laws(this is how you found out you were in Austria, somewhere not far from the border), he was still a good owner. He brings you things, he brings you clothes – his ones, but you must admit that you look freaking adorable in his shirts. You should be a bit more grateful than this.

You move your butt again, your precious pussy just mere centimeters away from his cock – he swears to god you are heated from the interaction, and your puffy lower lips are leaking something on the rough material of his pants. You don’t want to arouse him, it’s only obvious, but you’re still moving your soft hips around and he is still a man who can get just listening to your voice talking about the total and whether he has a card or not. He is a pervert and you’re weak enough to not be able to escape from his lap. Experimentally, he rocked his hips back and forth, his cock pressing on your cheeks once again. Oh, he quite liked that. He and his dick both, that is. You wouldn’t be too bothered if he weren’t entering you, right? He can save the meetup for later. — Play with the set for now, ja? You fulp, your fingers shaking as you slowly open the box. It’s wildflowers – cute, really. You like it, if he isn’t mistaking the dull gleam in your eyes for something else. maybe, you’re thinking you can attack him with some of the sets – maybe, you’re planning to toss them across the room and turn the whole basement into a minefield. He wouldn’t lie, stepping on lego is still somehow worse than getting shot – but you shouldn’t know this. You’re a pretty, domesticated civilian, and he wants to keep you with him for as long as possible. You read the instruction carefully as he proceed to hammer his cock into the softness of your body, your cunt only protected by his jeans. It’s painful, to have his cockhead slam against the zip every time he tried to hammer it into your pussy – but there is a lesson in masochism around here, somewhere, and König never said he wasn’t affected by a mix of school bullying and mommy issues. There is something freeing in pain, with every pathetic whimper he lets go of – with every sound that only a loser like him would make.

He’d thought you were above it, above everything – but every time he rocks his hips, he can feel you getting wetter, the uneven tent in his crotch slamming against your clit. You want to release just as much as he does – even if you’re trying to cover it by building the set he bought for you. König thinks – if he could do this with you each time, he would buy the whole fucking shop, even the Minecraft ones. König wonders what would it take for you to suck his cock while he is finishing building the other sets he bought.

— D…do you know that… He takes his time to breathe, each word ending with a shallow breath and a low whistle as he proceeds to use your hips for his pleasure – as he finally unzips his pants and his cock almost sprawling free, leaking precum on his boxers. You whimper when you feel the heat much closer to your naked pussy, but König simply bites your neck again, whispering the words into the mark blossoming on your soft skin.

— First products from Lego were actually wo…Scheiise, you’re so fucking hot – wooden toys. You don’t understand how, but your pussy is getting wetter when you hear that eagerness in his voice. The desire to share this fact with you – this guy might be a crazy kidnapper, but you feel so much of a cute loser energy from him, you almost don’t want to stab him with a flower you’re making. You probably won’t. It’s best to keep him sated and calm, so he won’t force anything too much on you.

You ignore the throbbing in your pussy that intensifies each time he presses on your clit.

— Really?

— They didn’t got into making plastic cubes until after World War Two. They first made trucks that could be assembled and taken by pieces, but then… You hate yourself for it, but you’re actually listening to him. He has a way with words that makes everything more interesting, and there is nothing better to do – you concentrate on the sound of his voice so you won’t have to listen to the wet sounds of your pussy squelching on his crotch.

— They started to make…normal sets?

You know this – you remember the story, really, all workers at Lego had to know the history in case some adorable child would ask them. It’s almost cute, how König deliberately mansplains everything to you – you can fall into a steady rhythm of listening to his voice, while failing to notice that you started to move your butt on your own. Spreading your wetness across his boxers, feeling like a slut who is getting off her kidnapper touching her…seriously, this is so fucked up. You should be ashamed of yourself, but you just now and push your head back, against his chest. He would probably let you go for a while after this. He is always embarrassed after jerking off at your body.

— Ja. They even copyrighted the sound of blocks clicking together. You knew this was a thing, Schatzen? That everything clicks together with a certain detail?

— Yeah. They, um…taught us this in the first week.

— Oh.

He goes quiet for a few minutes, only the sounds of his ragged breath and the squeals of your pussy remaining in the room. You whimper when he drags you a bit harsher when he bites you in the shoulder with a low groan. You feel the added wetness on your pussy lips and you recognize that he came – in his boxers, you’d say like a loser, but, then again, you came too. He drags you to the mattress after, hugging you softly. Hand against your stomach again, the combined wetness of you and him made your face scrunch in discomfort.

You’re certainly a pair of losers. Match made in heaven.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig cod #konig x you #cod konig #lego #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere #male yandere #cod imagine

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callofdudes · 8 months

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Best idea

Y/n had to go MIA/KIA to keep the 141 safe, once Simon founds out angry cause he mourned for his best friend only to find out their alive and in hiding, demanded platonic cuddles as their “punishment”

Ok, I'm gonna get the brain juices running for this one. Another one based off a story my bestie @itsscromp and I did. But I changed it up. Hope you enjoy, it's longer than I anticipated it being.

Also, I should have fully expected the repercussions of letting you guys vote Egg as a callsign... but I'ma still use it.

Where did you go??

Summary: They thought you were gone, dead. Turns out you were under their noses and a call away the whole time.

Cw: Angst. Nothing much else.

Your mission had gone... Well for lack of a better word it went to shit. Whole thing blew up. An ambush, a bomb, it would be a long road to explain what all in all happened but it did, and now you were paying for it. It had gotten so bad they couldn't pull you from the junction you were stuck in.

You were supposed to be infiltrating an old base which had become home to a drug ring. But no one happened to mention the mines you'd step on and fuck up your leg with. Or the live wire that alerted the whole base after said mine went off.

So now this entire base was up in arms, you have a broken leg and probably other damage. You were lucky your leg hadn't been blown off.

And to be quite frank, these men were extremely dangerous which meant your fuck up was astronomical. The second they found you you were probably going to die.

So you commed into Price, telling him your situation.

"Alright Egg, I'm going to go in on foot and bring you back to the helicopter just hang tight soldier."

"Yes sir." You lay down, catching your breath and willing yourself not to look at your leg because if it felt bad it probably looked bad too.

Not twenty minutes later Price was approaching your form, bending down to check on you. "You broken??"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure... I don't want to look though."

Price nodded, tucking his gun away and grabbed your arms. "Alright, up we go," he hauled you up into his arms, hefting you over his shoulder and going back the way he came. Just... A little quicker this time since things were looking good for the oppositions infantry.

Price brought you back to the helicopter where you were bandaged up. The mission could have been better planned so they didn't end up sending another team out.

Price had the team drop you off near some loading stations far off the location of the base.

"What... Are we doing here??"

Price got out of the helicopter and checked your leg before pulling you out with him. "I can't bring you back to base. It's a security risk if I do..."

You frowned. "What do you mean?? Where am I going then??"

"There's a secure underground safehouse that will keep you hidden. It's got the provisions you need and the people you need. They'll keep quiet and keep you safe. For now, for however long, I need you to lay low."

You opened your mouth to protest but then shut it again. "I understand. Will I get to see the others..?"

"No, you are not to contact them in any way at all. Until I contact you, you are to remain on the downlow."

Your head falls slightly, but you nod. "Alright, I can do that."

Price nodded and patted your shoulder. He picked you up and helped you into the truck waiting for you. "They'll take care of you. I'll contact you as soon as it's safe. If I do not contact you do not contact us. Got it?"

You nod once again, taking the instructions to heart. You wouldn't be able to contact Ghost, Soap or Gaz. You wouldn't be able to contact anyone. But you knew this was for the best.

So with a last goodbye Price closed the door to the truck and the soldier in the driver's seat drove down the empty road out of the landing space.

"How long will we be gone??"

"Until we get the word from Captain Price. Don't worry. It'll be kept under wraps..."

...

Price returned to the base, taking a deep breath and having had time to figure everything out. He immediately called the others into a meeting.

Considering you and Price weren't supposed to be back for the rest of the day, or even two days or more the meeting was seen as urgent.

Ghost was there first, the sergeants following his trail as they came into the office. "Price... What are you doing back?" Ghost asked sternly, hands clasped tightly as if ready for action at a moments notice.

"Relax... There won't be any fighting. I need you all to sit."

Soap threw Gaz a concerned look as they sat. "Where is y/n, are they still out there??"

Price straightened his posture. He didn't exactly want to lie to his own men, but he'd done worse and he knew this was completely for the best.

"The mission didn't go well as soon as we went in."

Ghost frowned. "Didn't go well?? These drug traders could be connected to Shepherd's on power, how did it wrong??"

"Ghost, relax." Price replied firmly. "I realize that we didn't think this over as well as we should have... Their base was much more protected than we originally thought so Egg went in blind."

"So what happened? Did you pull them??" Ghost was growing more agitated the longer they sat there.

"They commed in about an exploded mine and... We couldn't find them."

The room grew quiet. Soap and Gaz shared concerned looks as Gaz spoke up. "Did you do a full search? We're they hidden in the dirt or something and you missed??"

Price shook his head. "Too risky to go on foot and search. We didn't know how many more mines were out there." Only a small white lie, but a lie nonetheless.

Ghost squared in his chair. "Then we need to go find them. What are we sitting here for just waiting-!"

"Ghost, if they are safe they'll comm in. For now I can't risk sending men in there with the base on high alert and their supposed boss on speed dial. So for now we sit down and we wait to see if Egg comes back with anything."

Ghost was boiling up underneath. Feelings of rage that Price couldn't have waiting a little longer. Worry because they left you out there probably still alive... And fear. Because what if you weren't alive.

"I won't make any calls on it now, but this is where we are at so remain patient. I'm doing what I can to sort this out." Price had to rewire this plan to keep all of his men safe. All of his soldiers, including you.

"Dismissed."

The air was tense when everyone left. The idea you were out there alone, still alive and possibly if not injured and with no help. It scared them all.

Gaz was the first to try and get in contact with you. But any of his efforts were proving ineffective.

Soap just had to wait it out. To hope they could find you or you could find them in time.

Ghost... Ghost didn't know what to think. He knew you were capable. He knew if you were alive then you'd comm in. Once you were safe he knew you would make contact. You could protect yourself... He had to believe you would be ok.

That mentality lasted right up until a week later when Price called everyone back in to pronounce you MIA. Stamped on a card to your file and just like that, they truly had zero traces of you.

They were devastated. A week and no turn of anything from you. This is when Simon started to call your phone. Leaving you text messages.

He couldn't sleep because all his thoughts and dreams were of you. Hoping you were ok and alive. That hope was dying, waking up in cold sweats on nights he could close his eyes for even a moment.

Clutching his beating heart while his body rattled with panic, phone pressed to his ear only to hear your voice over the same simple voice mail as ever.

He couldn't be without you. You were a crucial part of his life. Of his mission. He couldn't just abandon that connection. You had to be alive.

Price cut communication with the safe house you were being taken care of. Unless it was an emergency Price knew not of your condition, only that you were safe. He too was worried, bouncing around through meetings and talking with Laswell and this and that and the other thing.

Trying to figure out what to do now that they needed a new plan and how long they could wait to re-infiltrate.

Simon had started leaving you voicemails, not knowing if he'd ever hear your voice again.

"Hey, this is Y/n, I'm currently busy but please try to leave a message so I can get back to you!"

Simon laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he held the phone to his ear.

"Y/n.... If you can hear me you gotta respond. Please, I don't know if you'll ever hear these again but if you're somewhere out there I know you're alive. Anything, please, I..." He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he saw you. Taking off in that helicopter, a pat on the shoulder and a good luck...

"I miss you. And I'm not giving up on you. I'm not." He wouldn't cry... He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.

"I'm going to come find you. I know somewhere you're still alive. Even if their torturing you I promise I won't leave you out there to die you hear me."

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he covered his eyes, curling up on his bed. "I know you hear me...." He choked out. "I know you can hear me...." He stares at the phone. "Please Y/n.... Please, anything..."

He stared at the phone, waiting like you would magically pick up and reassure him even for a second that you were ok and alive and even if you weren't thriving you were still breathing.

But no...

The voicemail lasted for over an hour. Simon laid there, staring at him phone, unable to bring himself to hang up again.

His thumb hovered over the phone. He wanted to say one last thing... He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. His eyes downcast and one last tear rolled down his cheek as he ended the call once again. Only to face another restless night of no sleep.

By the eighth month mark you were pronounced KIA.

Simon had pretty much known by that point. He'd lost his best friend but he had been in denial until Price told them. They couldn't find a trace of you. No body, no tags, no clothes, no weapon. You had simply... Vanished.

Simon continues to mourn all while you were still being held up in that underground safehouse. Sitting on the small rickety bed, watching the higher ranked soldiers also staying watch at the safehouse talk in the other room.

It was beyond difficult. No contact with outside, you ate, slept, the others tended to your leg and occasionally sparred with you to help you back on your feet.

You missed your team. Your friends. Your family.

You listened to every single voicemail Simon sent. You couldn't reply. Couldn't text him back or even pick up the phone for a second to let him know you were ok.

You remained radio silent.

Even as you'd lay awake at night with your phone replaying the voicemail, listening to the recorded lapse of Simon's breathing while he stared at the phone with an empty, sorrowful expression from the other side.

You missed him so much. You wanted to see them again. But you couldn't. Not yet. Would you ever get to see them again?? They couldn't leave you down here forever.

There was a brief knock on your door as one of the sergeants nodded to you. "Food is ready, new supply just came in."

You nod, pausing the voicemail. "Thanks... I'll be out in a minute."

You sighed, turning off your phone and tucking it away, praying that you'd see them soon.

...

Simon had lost you. Didn't even get a chance to protect you. It had gotten to the point where his lack of sleep would lead to seeing figures of you disappear down hallways. In a spark of hope and joy he'd rush to find you only to find nothing...

On the off days he'd run into a recruit or a sergeant wandering the halls. As soon as they would turn around though... The illusion would shatter.

His own mind was killing him from the inside. Sending you hundred and hundreds of text messages. Every morning and night, rants about his day and what he was feeling. If he was going to pour everything out like you'd ever see it he did it now.

Knowing you'd never pick that phone up again, knowing you'd never look him in the eyes again. Knowing he'd never hear your voice or feel your touch or know your comfort ever again.

This drove him further and further into the spiral. Price had never seen Simon beat up the punching bag so much he bled all over it. He'd never seen Simon get snappy and angry I'm split decisions like he did.

He'd never seen Simon grow so desperate and over protective of Johnny and Kyle. Because Simon's new fear was he'd lose them just like he lost you...

This went on for the next three months after that. Nearly a year since you'd died and they were back out on that minefield. A proper plan, a new way in, a new goal.

Simon was desperate to tear that base apart and even find a trace of your body. Even just a piece of your clothing or your signature engraved gun hanging in their armory somewhere.

But in the end he was left with no more questions answered than when he first entered that meeting room eleven months ago.

Simon had followed the trail to the last thread. The main office of that base. Pulling open every drawer and every cabinet.

"Lt stop you're making a mess-!"

"There's got to be a file or something here! There fucking has to be!"

"Ghost stop we found the information we needed. We have the shipments contained the base is clear what could you be looking for??" Gaz asked, trying to understand what had gotten Ghost in such a frenzy.

"A kill list or an interrogation chart. Anything."

"For what Simon!?"

"For Y/n!!" Simon snapped at them both. Breathing heavy as he finishes emptying every drawer in that office.

Price stood silently in the doorway. Enough time had passed. He wouldn't put them through this anymore.

"Come on lads... I think it's time I show you something."

Their attention turned on to him. Simon was almost vibrating with rage and anxiety. He just wanted any knowledge of what happened. He knew you were dead but his soul was restless without knowing. He needed to know...

They left, Price piled them in the helicopter and the ride back was silent. Simon stared at his hands the whole time. Soap fidgeted, knee bouncing and chewing his lip anxiously.

Gaz picked at the loose strap of his gun, also attempting to distract himself from the elephant in the room.

When the helicopter landed they weren't on base. They landed on the small helipad you had been brought to some some before. Price got out, motioning the other three to follow.

"Where are we Price??" Soap looked around, not recognizing the place.

"You'll know soon enough." Price brought them to a truck, talking with the officer in charge of the station before climbing in the driver's seat.

The sergeants got comfy in the back and Simon slipped into the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passenger window, watching the open land pass by and the fields of undisturbed flowers and wildlife.

What if he had found you here? May you would have liked that better. Surrounded by the flowers and the soft blowing breeze instead of wherever your body lay, ashes or not.

He turned away, fixing his eyes to the dashboard to try and distract himself.

The ride was quiet once again. Lasting about an hour and a half before Price stopped, parking the vehicle outside a small outpost of sorts. It wasn't build very high off the ground and was concealed by trees and wildlife.

"A safehouse. Why cannae we jus' go home??" Soap asked as he jumped out of the vehicle with the others.

"I'd prefer we made a stop here." Price said, leading them to the entrance where surpisingly a soldier was there to bring them in.

"Occupied? Now there's something new." Gaz whispered to Soap.

Simon didn't understand why they were even making this stupid trip. He wanted to go back to base. He wanted to hide once again like he always did.

"Captain Price, welcome back." The soldier shook Price's hand and walked them further inside.

"Sergeant! Their here for you!" The soldier called out, walking to one of the small rooms where you were. Where you spent most of your time.

You looked up. Who was here for you?? Your eyes widened. Them, your team! It had to be them they were back!

You pushed off your bed, leaning into your good leg and moved faster than you had in almost a year. Turning the corner and there they were. Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle. All of them.

But.... This wasn't the hopeful reunion you'd pictured in your head over and over again. No one moved. The thought of Simon rushing the hug you didn't come true as he didn't move.

Price walked over, embracing you. "Good to see you again sergeant." You hugged him tightly, so good to be held by him, embraced by Price again. You'd missed him so much.

Johnny was the second one to snap out of it, running over and wrapping his arms around you tightly. "What the hell is wrong with you doing this! You had us all sick and worried and heartbroken!!"

"It wasn't my plan... I'm sorry." You hugged Johnny back. "I'm so sorry Soap, I'm so sorry." Johnny couldn't stop his tears, not wanting to let go in fear you'd slip away again.

Gaz followed, hugging you tighter than you'd ever felt him do before. You'd never seen Gaz openly cry but he was balling, sobbing as he hugged you tightly.

"We thought you were dead, captain told us you were dead!"

"I had to do it to protect them... To protect all of us." Price knew this would probably take a bit for them all to come to terms and forgive him for, but it had to be done.

When the others were done cooing and coddling over you, there was just Simon left.

He felt alone. He felt cold and separated. He felt like he wasn't a part of the same bubble as the others... He watched them embrace and kiss and love on you... You. It was you.

You turned to him, but Simon didn't move. He didn't know if he could. He felt so consumed by his darkness and his grief it didn't allow him to step into the light.

He'd consumed himself so much if he touched you he felt he might burn. That you fall like sand from his fingertips and the illusion would shatter...

"Simon...." You whisper, stepping toward him, causing Simon to step back.

You could see the fear in his eyes. The lack of trust, the amount of hurt, the pain he must have went through to have one of his lifelines ripped away and then thrust back into his life suddenly like it was fine.

"I'm... I'm sorry Simon I didn't mean to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail you sent. I knew every text that went through. But I...."

"You could have told me you were fine! You could have told me you were ok!! Bullshit that you couldn't!! Bullshit!!" Simon thundered.

You remained silent. Simon glared at Price. This was his fault. You'd been taken away without warning. He could have kept it a secret he could have carried that knowledge and not been out through a years worth of fire from hell!

Simon threw his gun to the ground, not even carrying as he left again.

"Lieutenant! Simon!" Price called after him as Simon left the safehouse.

You placed your hand on Price's chest. "Don't... It's ok. Let me help him."

Price looked down. But he nodded.

You left the safehouse, finding Simon around the corner huddled up, shaky hands trying to light a cigarette to get his nerves to calm down and his mind to clear up.

"You hid from me." He cursed, acting like he was seconds from spitting your name into the dirt and squashing it. But you knew. You knew inside he was hurting more than anyone else on the team.

You knelt beside him, gently taking the lighter from his hands. "I never meant to hurt you. If I didn't have strict orders from Price I would have contact you right away."

"Why couldn't he have at least told us you were ok. That you were alive."

"I... I don't know Simon, you'll have to ask Price about that one. But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail, I didn't give up. I can see the pain it caused you."

You moved closer, slipping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The second you wrapped your arms around him. He felt your weight, your warmth, your heart pounding in your chest against his own.

Simon finally looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was shattered. So hurt from losing you.

"You fuckin' abandoned me!!"

"I didn't abandon you Simon. You know I would have picked up and came running back even if my leg was missing."

He knew it was true. But he was so... So angry and torn and upset. He wanted to scream and fight and he felt so small and helpless.

The real you.

Not some illusion passing corners or drifting through his peripherals. The you he could touch and hold and protect.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, never letting go of you even once. He didn't stop those tears as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I'm here Simon. I'm not leaving again ok? I'm right here."

He remained silent, crying as he held onto you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like hours passed. It felt like time slowed. What felt like two hours was twenty minutes when he finally pulled away enough to look at your face.

To see the light in your glimmering eyes, to see every feature of your face that made you, you.

His sergeant. His teammate. His family.

You smiled softly, gently pulling up his mask off his head to cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb gently over the dimple in his cheek you've seen when he shows you his smile.

"Smudged your paint a little bit," You whisper. "Let's get that fixed." You gently brush your finger over his face, feeling him start to relax at that familiar and missed touch as you fix the paint around his eyes.

"There we go. How can I help Simon. What will help make this better?"

Simon tried to flick away the rest of his tears, huffing softly. "Cuddles. And you are not allowed to say no after what you put me through. This is your punishment for making me go through that shit!"

You chuckle. "Oh, cuddles with Simon, scary. I'll pay the fine, I'll do all the punishment time of cuddles you request. Sound good?"

Simon nods his head.

"Ok, well how about we go inside now? I could use some cuddles too."

You were about to get up when Simon hugged you again. "I'm glad you're ok..."

You smiled softly, kissing the top of his head. "I am too Simon." You help his mask back on and the two of you head inside.

Simon would let out his feelings to Price sometime later when his head felt less foggy. For now, he was content to crash on the rickety old safehouse bed and koala cling to you till kingdom come.

Nuzzling up and holding you tightly, not letting you go for even a itty bitty millisecond.

And you were fine with that. You were glad you could be back with your family. Simon was glad to welcome you back. You'd be serving a lot of cuddle prison time. A strenuous task, but one all too rewarding.

Running your hand down the back of his head, scratching his back to help him relax and set himself at ease.

All he needed was to koala crush your soul into his soul, and then he'd be ok. Slowly, his eyes started to close after the exhaustion of the mission, but he fought to keep them open.

"I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise, I won't be going anywhere." You whisper to him.

"You promise?"

"I double swear it. I won't leave. I'll be right here."

He snuggled you impossibly closer and let his eyes close. He let his mind rest. His heart soak in you and heal. Slowly you could help mend what has fallen apart.

And cuddles were never a bad place to start...

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #platonic x reader #cod modern warfare

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b1rds3ye · 10 months

Text

Radio Silence

The mission required you to separate from the rest of Task Force 141 but when the operation is compromised, all he can do is listen to the panic through the comms until everything goes silent.

Pairings: Captain John Price x GN!Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader Reader Aliases: Breeze (Callsign), Bravo 1-5 (Squad-Member Code) Genre: Angst (open-ended), Drama Warning: Descriptions of violence/crashes, blasphemy/religious references, (probably) inaccurate military terms Word Count: 3k (~1.5k each)

Captain John Price

The captain was not a superstitious man, but when you’re on the battlefield, you take all the good fortune you can get. With age he’s picked up a range of small habits and lucky paraphernalia to get him through the mission; an aged penny in his left breast pocket, a four leaf clover stored in another, he finds himself reciting the lord’s prayer even though he’s not particularly religious (and if there is a god he’d like to personally go up and sock them across the face).

When you noticed his little rituals, you added on a good luck charm of your own - his favourite by far. A quick peck on the cheek followed by a teasing little “good luck, captain” in his ear. Price swears there’s something divine in your affection, it does wonders for his morale and efficiency. He thought nothing of it the first few times, but when he realised that this little gift of yours was here to stay, he started to reciprocate in kind when the others weren’t looking. His soul has become tainted over the years - if anything a kiss from him should be a bad omen - but your beaming smile in response convinces him that maybe he’s given you some luck your way.

And perhaps that’s why, after your ritual good luck kiss, he feels a little more than bothered when Laswell calls you away before he can reciprocate. You notice the slight furrow of his eyebrows and laugh, telling him not to worry and that you’ll see him on the other side. The hold you had on his arm disappears as you pull away, bidding him and the rest of the Task Force good luck as you join your own squadron. Price then returns to commandeering his own men, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind. Perhaps you need that extra little bit of luck today.

Price hates how good his intuition can be.

“Bravo 0-6, do you copy?”

With his squadron grounded and on the perimeter of the site, he stiffens at the tone of your voice. That’s not how you usually sound like over comms, that hint of uncertainty didn’t suit you.

“Loud and clear, in position of Site A.”

“Copy, we’re at the compound but… we’ve got company.”

“Al-Qatala?”

“No, looks like Al-Qatala is buddy-buddy with some mercs and- shit.”

“Breeze, what are you seeing?”

“How’d they get us surrounded…?” You mutter more to yourself than to Price but his blood runs cold regardless.

“Bravo 1-5 you are to fall back and wait for backup-”

He’s cut off by various layers of static but he’s learnt to decipher them. The deeper base of the rustle of fabric as you manoeuvre, the sharp trill of gunshots all overlaying the white noise of distant shouting.

“Price, our exits are blocked, they knew we’d be here, how’d they- Corporal! Fuck, stay with me! We’re dropping like flies here. Bravo-1, we’ve got no choice, we have to push through, full offensive!”

He hears the screams of nearby soldiers. While he’s grateful none of them are yours, he knows that the ride back to base will be a rough one regardless. He feels the eyes of his subordinates burn holes into him and the walkie talkie. Gaz, who was beside him, was the only one moving, animatedly talking to Laswell and filling her in on the situation.

“Bravo 1-5-”

There’s an audible sigh on your end that shuts him up.

Through the time it has taken for Price to become captain, he’s learned a lot the hard way. One of the most important things he’s learned is that earning Lady Luck’s favour is more crucial than any skill for the battlefield. Some of the best he’s ever seen has fallen because they pissed her off somehow, but he still never expected her to shun you.

“Just my luck…” your voice starts off quiet as you curse to yourself. A gulp breaks up your panting as you stabilise your breathing. Your next words are far too calm.

“I’m sorry, Price.”

“Sergeant.” Price’s voice was low, cautious. A warning. He knows how you fight, he knows you don’t do anything extreme unless the situation he calls for it, and once again he’s praying to the unknown that it hasn’t come to that.

“I said next time we hit the pub with the 141 that the first round will be on me but I don’t think I can make that.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Breeze.”

“The merc company goes by Order of Ashes.”

Your words are becoming harder to hear as the explosions seem to be getting closer and closer. Gaz is becoming louder, literally screaming into his comms as he near begs for an evac for your squadron. The rest of his team is becoming restless. Price’s grip tightens impossibly tight on the walkie talkie, any tighter and he could probably crush the metal.

“Rain hell on them for me, yeah?”

Price starts calling for your name, only to be interrupted by a deafening static that has him reeling from his own technology. Inexperienced privates that surrounded him flinched at the sound while Gaz fell silent. Soon Price’s walkie talkie falls silent too.

He brings his hand up to activate communications again, a tentative check in.

“Bravo 1-5, do you copy?”

He waits for a moment.

“Fuck. Breeze? Do you copy?”

The next time he calls out to you is the first time he’s hesitant, to the untrained ear he sounded as strong as ever but to him he recognises how his own voice wavers. A gentle call of your actual name, the last resort.

Silence.

Price gives you a few more seconds to answer, each moment more damning than the last. Gaz sends a concerned look his way but words fail him. He’s a good sergeant but his inexperience is showing. He hasn’t fully mastered the poker face, not like Price has.

Eventually he lets out a heavy exhale through his nose, counting each racing heartbeat it takes until it has marginally slowed.

Gaz instinctively straightened up, he didn’t need to see Price’s face to know his captain was transforming before his very eyes. Price adjusts his hat, looking at the rest of his team under the brim.

“Alright, we’ve got double the work and half the manpower. No time to lose, I want this site cleared within the hour, and then we're finding our other half."

With affirmatives all round, the soldiers get to work and so does Price. To the untrained eye, he’s calm, eerily so. As captain, Price can’t afford to lose his cool, it’ll bleed over and smother his team, blanket them in a tense atmosphere of panic and uncertainty. So he stays resolute, acting as the team’s anchor as he guides them towards the objective with precision.

The only emotion that breaks his facade is anger. Pure, unbridled rage that casts a frightening glaze over his eyes. His allies can see it as Price stomps towards the entrance of the site. Al-Qatala most certainly feel it as their lackeys are pummeled to the ground, bones cracking against stone and tiles. They’re not gifted the mercy of a quick bullet, but the pain of slowly bleeding out with broken bones, bruised bodies and limbs jutting out in all the ways they should not. Every bruising punch, every bullet delivered does little to quell the raging storm within him. It brings him closer to the mission objective but it doesn’t bring him closer to you, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. There’s no hostages, no chance of salvation for his enemies. Any form of good will in Price was taken away when you were taken away from him. He hopes whatever god that sees the carnage he’s inflicted knows that it is only a taste of what to come if he ever meets that poor sod.

When his side of the operation is done and the squadron is now leaving the site, Price returns to his comms. He needs to address the other half of the mission, you. Suddenly his tongue feels thick in his mouth as his throat tightens. His collar is suffocating.

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher-1 do you copy?”

Laswell’s voice rings out.

“Affirmative. We’ve already dispatched birds to Bravo-1’s location, we’ll do what we can and sort out that compound.”

“Do me one more thing. Find me everything you can on the ‘Order of Ashes’. I want names, locations, families, the whole fucking mile.”

“Can do. … Is this for Breeze?”

“Breeze wanted me to rain hell on them…”

Price’s voice is low as he puts a cigar in his mouth. He lights it up, even when the cigar smokes he keeps the lighter on. His eyes narrow at the flickering flame, fixated on it for a moment longer. He’s never been a particularly superstitious man, but he’s asking for Lady Luck to be on his side once again. For the slim chance that you’re somewhere out there, breathing. He’s never been worthy of her favour, but you damn well are so surely she’ll put that into account. She’ll consider that you still have a lot to do, you still have a good luck kiss that Price needs to return. He puts his lighter away.

“... and I intend to deliver.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost preferred his quieter missions. Others feel safer when in a team but more people mean more variables, and more variables mean more fuck ups, and heavens know he’s had enough of those. For Ghost, the less, the better. And yet, when it came to 141, and in particular to you, he’d pick company over going solo in a heartbeat.

Reconnaissance missions were a personal favourite, they were quiet, less violent if done right and often required only a few people. Of course his first person of choice is you, even if you’d always call these missions an “impromptu date” and then chastise him for not planning something more extravagant just to rile him up.

Even now, when you two were starting on opposite sides of the target site a good few kilometres apart, you were connected through communications. He’d listen as you ramble about anything and everything on your mind when the mission gets quiet. It was endearing, it was soothing. Ghost never thought he’d find someone like you with the power to give him a respite even when on duty - or if he ever deserved such a thing. And yet here he was, sitting against a wall, waiting for further instructions from Laswell as you started the purely hypothetical debate on who in the 141 would best survive the zombie apocalypse.

“Honestly, with a mask like yours you could probably blend in with the horde. 10 out of 10 you’d last your entire life like that.”

“Surrounded by brain dead morons? Already have that.”

He heard your laugh that you tried to mask as an exaggerated scoff.

“How long do you think I’d last?”

“One hour at most.”

“Oh come on Ghost, have a bit more faith in me.”

“All Bravo to Watcher-1, we’re awaiting further action, copy.”

As Laswell replies, Simon can already imagine your offended expression as he changes the topic.

“Bravo-1 this is Watcher-1, you are all clear to close in on the perimeter. Do not engage, just tell us what you see.”

“Watcher-1 this is Bravo 1-5, I’m already seeing hostiles.”

Ghost stills, his hand reaching back up to the comms. You’ve always managed to keep it cool but he heard how your sentence ended with a slight waver. It was too early for speculation, but the alarm bells were already going off in his head. The enemy should be clustered within the site, nowhere near where you currently are.

“I’m counting a dozen men, a couple of trucks and- that’s looking like some impressive cargo.”

There’s some extra static as Ghost finds his pace increasing. He won’t be able to reach you soon, but it doesn’t stop his legs from moving towards the site.

“They’re moving quickly, they’ve got an agenda.”

“Stay frosty, Breeze.”

“Got it, Simon.”

Your voice is more of a whisper now, almost blending in with the static. Was the enemy that close to you already? Usually, he loved when you used his actual name. Everyone calls him ‘Ghost’ even off-duty, but you were proper enough to at least always call him by his callsign in battle. You were getting spooked and he was too far away to even try and comfort you.

It was a strain to unclench his balled fists. He wasn’t going to have a mission go wrong, at least not one that involved you. He’d be damned if something took you out before him, because he refused to return to a life where you weren’t yapping his ear off.

“Breeze, head back to exfil.”

“Fuck, they’re heading this way.”

If you found a good place to hide, Ghost could reach you before any enemy did. He had to.

“I’m heading towards your position. E.T.A 20 minutes.”

“Ghost, my spot is now crawling with hostiles. I know you’re a one man army but I think you’re pushing it this time.”

Your laugh was different this time. It wasn’t as hearty as the one he heard before, it was a weak wheeze. Half-hearted, the sound of a bitter and quiet defeat. He could hear your rugged breathing against the end of the mic. If he was actually with you, he’d stand beside you in moments like this, letting you put your body weight on him discreetly as he anchored you to the world. His gloved hand instinctively curls as he imagines himself holding onto your arm.

“Breeze, stay with me. Focus on the objective.”

“You owe me a proper date after this, Ghost.”

“Then make sure you get back in one piece-”

The comms are disrupted with a voice that Ghost can’t recognise, with you returning an indistinguishable shout and a curse. He can’t help calling your name into the comms, only to hear the static of indescribable commotion, bodies shuffling and the harrowing crack of broken bones and limbs. It escalates into a deafening crescendo spanning only a few seconds before the grand finale of a thump of a fallen body. The transmission ends with a damning click. He stops in his tracks before he returns to the comms.

“Breeze? How copy?”

The line has gone dead. Ghost slams his fist into the nearest wall, but it does little to quell the pain from within.

“Bravo this is Watcher-1, what’s your status?”

Ghost pauses at Laswell’s request, he wants you to be the one who replies on his behalf, you usually do. Never did a moment feel so heavy, outweighing his military gear and weapons, almost bringing the hulking man to his knees. His hand reluctantly comes up to activate his walkie talkie. He takes his sweet time, giving you the chance to interrupt. When he finally speaks, his voice is slow as he draws out every syllable, every pause a desperate invitation for you to speak up.

“Bravo 1-5 is M.I.A.”

Laswell is silent on the other side. Ghost lets his head tilt back until it rests on the wall beside him, the guilt made his skull too heavy. With that sentence alone he felt like your executioner, as if he just brought the possibility of you being gone into reality. The only thing he can hear now is the slight rustle of grass against the wind, a backdrop to the rhythmic bass of his pounding heartbeat. This was a typical ambience for solo missions, and Ghost was used to being alone.

But lonely? He had forgotten how it felt ever since you barged into his life. And now that the feeling has returned, he forgot just how utter shit it feels.

“We’re sending immediate backup to their position. We’ll meet you there.”

But by the time he and the squadron make it to your position, there are only the remnants of a battle left in your wake. A few unrecognised bodies are slumped against the walls, furniture is overturned, and dried blood paints the floor as a macabre dye. Most - if not all - of this must have been your handiwork, and if it was any other circumstance Ghost would feel proud, but you’re not beside him for him to praise you. That being said, there is no sign of you, and that leaves him optimistic, but the other soldiers seemed to think differently.

“You know, they say Al-Qatala never takes prisoners,” one jittery private said to another.

“What’re you trying to say? I've seen the Sergeant. Breeze is tough.”

“I’m just saying, even if we can’t find their body they’re probably d-”

“That’s enough,” Ghost snaps his head to them, eyes alight with a rage usually reserved only for his worst enemies. His voice is near unrecognisable, more akin to a growl than any human sound. He will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of you or doubting your capabilities as a soldier. He tells himself he does it for your honour, nothing more, nothing less. He disregards the selfish need for you to return to him as it wittles him down to the bone and contorts his face to a scowl concealed under his mask.

The soldiers hurriedly salute before exiting the room, leaving the lieutenant alone, shoulders and chest heaving before he moves to continue the search.

The team returns empty handed, but that means nothing to Ghost. Even as he’s issued new missions he does not falter. He fights with the same brutality, killing his enemy before they can kill him because he needs to return home. Return home so he can organise a covert mission of his own - retrieving you. No matter the rank or squadron that separates you, no matter if you’re shipped out to the other side of this godforsaken earth, you two are a team. Combat has hardened Ghost into a brutally honest man, many would call him a pessimist, but a stubborn voice in the back of his mind refuses to believe that you’re gone. You’ve always been a tough nut to crack, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be dating him. He’s seen you stare death in the eyes only for you to stand back up beside him. And so he faces forward and doesn’t look back. Because until he has to rip off the freezing metal of a dog tag from your neck, he swears on his stone cold heart that you’re still out there. Maybe a little tattered, perhaps even broken, but living.

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #task force 141 x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #/*avery actually writes*/

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midnightdevotion · 1 year

Text

Hang in There

Request: Hi I saw you opened and requests and I can’t stop thinking about Rooster finding fem reader passed out somewhere after training because she’s pregnant with Hangman’s baby 👀 Maybe she’s been off a while and hangman is still ✈️

a/n: hi guys! it's been forever since i posted something- i will update all my fics soon just needed some inspo from requests to get my mojo back. Thanks for understanding loves.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female reader(Callsign Daisy)

Life has a way of kicking your ass in unexpected ways. After waking up sick for two weeks in a row you went to the doctors, only to find out you were pregnant. 8 weeks pregnant no less.

Now your approaching 10 weeks and you still don't know how to process that your pregnant, let alone tell your boyfriend. You know you want kids, but this is definitely not how you envisioned it happening.

The fear of telling Jake and losing him for this is something that has you up all night, every night. You can't help but thank you're lucky stars he's been on a mission for the last month because after waking up sick every day and hardly sleeping from the stress of it all, he would've figured you out. He should be getting home later today and you don't know what to do.

Logically, you know that while he plays the part of jackass cocky pilot, he worships you, and he would never be so low to leave you and your baby. His Texas roots would never let him. However, you're pregnant so your hormones don't let you settle the anxiety with logic.

Flinching as a door slams it knocks you out of the anxious spiral that has been your mind for the last few weeks.

"hey daisy you ready to kick some ass today?"

"when am I not" you send what you hope is a convincing smile towards rooster. You move around him grimacing as you walk into the sweltering southern California heat.

___

If there's one thing you can count on, flying is the one thing that gets you out of your head. It takes away all your fear and keeps you exactly in this moment. Nothing outside of being in the pilot seat matters. Not being pregnant, not every stress that comes with it being unplanned, and certainly no anxieties about what comes next.

There's no space for any of that. The second you climb that ladder, your life and everything about it falls away.

Today you are just running team trainings, and they are always your favorite. You have no upcoming mission scheduled so it's just to keep your skills refined and ready for when there is a mission.

"hey daisy, you know it's not fair when they team you up with Rooster, you should just let us win" coyote's voice crackles over the comms.

"Coyote how will you ever get better if I don't humble your ass every time i can?" your sarcastic reply echos back.

"C'mon just once! I've got a date tonight and I want to brag about being the winner"

"Tsk tsk you should know women don't want to hear you brag on the first date coyote. Maybe this is why you never get a second date."

"You can't seriously tell me the girl dating hangman told me not to brag right now."

Laughter crackles through from everyone, and you shake your head. Rooster gives you a signal and you move to his left ready to attack.

If there's one thing the dagger squad knows it's that when you and rooster fly together there is ultimately little to no chance for survival. Nobody expected the duo with callsigns rooster, and daisy to be such a lethal pair but you guys can read each others minds.

This is true on the ground too, which is why you've been avoiding rooster for two weeks. You know he can tell something is up, but if you avoid him, he can't figure out what.

"how quick do you think we can get them out today?" Roosters voice rasps.

"I reckon we will have them grounded in t-5 minutes"

"god not you too with the Texas talk" he groans.

"What you don't think it's charming?" he flips you off and you laugh.

Before you can respond you see coyote and payback flying. Dropping back to cover rooster you grin under the face mask. This is your favorite part of everyday.

Being up in the air with your best friends you feel invincible. Which is ironic considering this is actually a dangerous job.

"rooster, plan c"

"roger that" He goes shooting forward and you fall back. You laugh as you watch them chase rooster, it's symbolic in a way kids chase chickens and then get pecked.

You stay behind them until you move to get a shot. The sweet sound of missile lock rings out and payback drops off. Now that Coyote is onto you, the plan changes, and you become the bait.

You and Rooster know that he wants to air 'kill' you the most, which is why this plan will work. The temptation of you being right there will be too much for him to think about where rooster disappeared too.

So when rooster swoops in and gets the missile lock on coyote, you can't help but laugh. You and rooster devised this plan specifically for Coyote because he always complains when you two are teamed up together. So seeing it come to fruition and even better hearing Coyotes swearing, is the highlight of your day.

Grinning as you climb down from your jet, you search out rooster. You see him hopping onto the tarmac and walking over your way.

"roos we killed that!" you shout out at him. When you feet hit the tarmac, a rush swoops over you. Shaking it off you go to take a step and suddenly the world spins incredibly fast. Yet it feels like everything is going in slow motion, your vision goes spotty and you hear Rooster shout after you. The last thing you register before the world goes black is the sound of boots hitting the ground.

Rooster has never felt more scared to make a phone call in his life. How does he call Hangman and tell him that his girlfriend passed out, and is in the hospital bay when he has no idea why.

It's been four hours already, you haven't woken up and they won't give him any answers. His hair is a mess from stressing about his best friend not being okay while simultaneously worrying about how to tell the guy he knows would move heaven and earth for you.

His leg is bouncing up and down as he stares at the number dialed on his phone screen.

The fact of the matter is Hangman is probably still flying and won't be able to be contacted for a few more hours. The mission was a success, and then it was extended to have them run drills while at sea.

Bradley knows he has to make the call, but he's terrified that once he does it all feels more real. He's terrified to lose his best friend, He's lost enough already.

Sighing he rubs his hands down his face, picks back up his phone and hits the green call button. The ringing feels like the worst anticipation of his life. When it goes to voicemail his hands are shaking, and he doesn't know what to say so he just hangs up.

Next resort is to call the ship. A commander on board will contact hangman and deliver the bad news, and oh how he wanted to avoid it coming from anyone but him.

He feels a hand land on his shoulder, looking up and glancing at Mav he sighs.

"It's going to be okay Bradley"

"How could you possibly know that" Maverick sighs, and sits next to him.

"let me make the call." maverick opens his hand for him to hand him the phone.

"no- no I need to be the one.. just what do I say mav"

"you tell him the truth, you don't know yet what happened, she's stable but the doctors are finding out what happened and he needs to get back as soon as he can"

He swallows and it feels like steal is coating his throat. Nodding as he stands up he paces in front of mav.

"she's gonna be okay, she has to be okay. We take risks every day all day up in those jets, this can't be how she goes mav. She has to be okay."

"and she will be, but take a deep breathe and find yourself because when you get ahold of Seresin he needs you to be his rock, he doesn't need to hear you panic" Rooster sighs because Maverick is right. He grabs his phone and dials the ships emergency contact number.

It takes a few minutes, jumping through hoops, getting in contact with one person to be transferred to another. Rooster curses Jake for being so hard to get ahold of.

"This is warlock"

"Admiral, sir, this is Lieutenant Bradshaw. There's been an accident with Lieutenant y/l/n today and we need to get contact with Lieutenant Seresin."

"Jesus- is everything okay?"

"We're not really sure yet sir but Jake- he needs to know."

"He's in the air at the moment let me see if i can get him back on ship."

"thank you sir"

The minutes feel like hours as rooster is waiting. He hears chatter from his phone and he knows they are trying to get hangman back on the ship and available for the phone call but roosters not sure if he isn't ready to deliver the news or ready to get it over with.

What feels like an eternity later but is actually only twenty minutes he finally hears hangman in the background. He swallows hard.

"Rooster whats going on?" if there's one thing pilots know, they are never called down unless something bad happened.

"Jake. Something happened with daisy... she... she just passed out.."

"in the Air?!! Rooster tell me shes okay!"

"No no! not in the air.. we had just landed and i was walking over to her and she passed out. She's in the med bay now but we haven't heard anything about her condition yet."

"Fuck!..... Fuck!" in the background he hears jake asking how far from land they are. Ultimately needed to be there for you, needing to see you for himself. Bradley hears jake curse when the answer is still 3 hours out.

He hears a slam and then yelling before the line clicks dead. Rooster looks at maverick worried.

"what do you think he's gonna do"

"one way or another? getting a jet and flying here faster." is mavericks reply. Rooster can't help but agree, if he was 150 miles away from land on a boat that moves about 50 mph holding jets that move at 1,000 mph then he knows what option he would choose too.

----

It takes about 30 minutes for hangman to come rushing into the hospital bay.

"How is she, have we heard anything, what happened" He rapid fires off questions.

"the doctor came out and told us she passed out because she's sleep deprived and is showing signs of dehydration and that she hasn't eaten anything today."

"why- why hasn't, she knows she needs to eat- she's so good with drinking water... I don't understand." confusion crosses his fingers because none of that sounds like his girlfriend.

"when can i see her?"

"the doctor is going to come out soon and let us know what room she is in, they had to finish the tests to see if everything is okay."

Hangman nods and paces the floor where rooster paced about calling him. It only takes a couple minutes for a doctor to come out and call your name and everyone shoots up.

"Okay, well, I'm glad she has a support system but only one visitor at a time please, she does still need to rest and recover. She is in room 302"

Hangman takes off in a dead sprint towards the room.

---

Beeping is the next thing your mind registers, and it takes you a minute to open your eyes. Yawning you try to bring your hands up to rub your face but one is being held by something.

Looking over you see Jake studying your left hand.

"you know you scared the shit out of me today"

"Jake I-"

"why weren't you taking care of yourself?" this has you confused and furrowing your brows.

"I have been-"

"You were dehydrated, hadn't eaten and sleep deprived. It's why you passed out!"

"jake you've been gone! You don't know what I've been doing! I did eat breakfast and drink water this morning but I threw it up!"

"god darling daisy if your sick don't come to work!"

"I'm not sick!"

"some would say puking means your sick!"

"not when your pregnant!"

"you- you're pregnant?"

"Yes Jake! I've been throwing up for weeks because of stupid morning sickness and I haven't been sleeping well because oh my god I'm pregnant and that is the scariest thing, and I was worried to talk to you about it but I guess that's out now isn't it." Theres a silence that lingers on after your words, and it feels like ice pumping into your heart the longer it stretches on.

"oh- oh my god" your throat feels thick at his words, he's looking down at your still clasped hands and you watch him to gauge his reaction.

"we're having a baby?" he finally looks up at you and his eyes are welling with tears.

"yes- we're having a-" and your cut off by his lips crashing against yours. His laughter peels out of him as he pulls away.

"were having a baby!"

"wait... you're happy about it?"

"Of course I'm happy about it! You're the love of my life! I want everything with you. The house, the kids the marriage, the dogs the fights, and the stress"

His words make your eyes tear up.

"honey I hate that you were so stressed about telling me you weren't sleeping. I was sitting here, looking at your left hand thinking about how wrong it is that something happened and the doctors didn't immediately call me, that if something were to happen to one of us I never got the chance to put my ring on your finger." His words left you speechless.

"jake... what are you saying"

"I'm saying marry me."

"isn't that supposed to be a question?"

"No. Its a demand, marry me, make me the happiest man, have my babies and marry me and call me out on my shit and shoot me down in the sky I want it all. I know this is so not how i planned to ask you, but please, marry me." You laugh a wet laugh, because this makes sense, you two would get engaged in the weirdest way, and do it all out of order, but you love this man with your whole heart so you embrace the chaos.

"Of course I will marry you" and he kisses you with every emotion he's felt in the last few hours, but you both wouldn't change it. Even if he already has the ring at home in his sock drawer waiting for the perfect moment.

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#jake hangman #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #topgun #top gun

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

What would the relationship between the reader and Ghost be like if they knew one another before he became Ghost?? Like they met in the military and reader met his family when he finally introduced her to them. Then the aftermath??

Awe, I love this one. I hope this is along the lines of what you're looking for! Thanks for the request🥰

Before He Was "Ghost," He was Simon.

Warnings: mentions of death, family trauma, angst, swearing, fluff

----------------------------------------------------

□You and Simon met when you both enlisted shortly after 9/11.

□The two of you worked well together and were constantly being sent on the same deployments.

□ It took a bit, but you grew incredibly close to one another, and you were one of the lucky few who Simon actually considered a friend.

□ Both of you just "got each other." You grew to love Simon's dark, dry humor, and he grew to appreciate your bubbly attitude, always wanting everyone around you to smile.

□ You found yourselves constantly in each other's company, whether it be partnered of missions or during downtime on base.

□ Even off duty, the two of you spent nearly all your time together. He was a tough nut to crack even back then, but you had made it seem so easy.

□ You had shown each other your hobbies and interests and spent a lot of your time together trying new things.

□ He was very reserved about his family, only giving bits of information about his childhood. You knew better than to press on it, as it seemed a sore spot for him.

□ It has taken a little over a year of being friends for him to want to introduce you to his mom and brother. He'd arranged the meeting so that his father wouldn't be there when you went over.

□ His childhood home was small but cozy. His mother was a quiet, kind-hearted woman, and you could tell she loved her sons dearly.

□ You got along well with his mom, and were subjected to relentless teasing from Simon's brother, constantly telling you to "just date my brother already." Much to Simon's embarrassment.

□ The four of you were having a wonderful time, his mom telling you of the few cheerful memories of Simon and his brother as children and asking you about your life.

□ Unbeknownst to the two of you, Simon's dad came home earlier than expected.

□ Simon rarely went into detail about his father, but the few snippets he'd given you in the past led you to understand that his father was a piece of shit.

□ The tense silence that ensued had you feeling wickedly uncomfortable, and you could tell Simon was doing his best to stay composed. The atmosphere had changed significantly, and from the looks on everyone's faces, it was clear his dad's presence wasn't a welcome one.

□ After regarding you and Simon with a sinister sneer, his father gave a pathetic attempt at a dry conversation, clearly not caring to put any effort into it. Simon's hand found yours and squeezed it gently, signaling to you that it was time to go.

□ You'd only saw his brother and mom a few more times before they were killed.

□ You and Simon had been separated a few months previously, as he went off to do his own thing, and you'd missed him terribly.

□ You'd heard about it through the grapevine that they were murdered, and tried to reach out to Simon in any way you could, to no avail.

□ You were so worried about him, and the longer you went without hearing from him, the more concerned you got. You missed your best friend terribly and wanted to comfort him in any way you could.

□ He closed himself off to you, and you were worried you may never speak to him again.

□ It wasn't until a few years later that you saw him again. But this wasn't your Simon anymore. This was Ghost. The much feared, yet respected Liuetanant who's past was just as much a mystery as what laid behind the mask.

□ You'd heard of the callsign a few times through chatter amongst the soldiers, and the name was gaining much notoriety.

□ You hadn't really not thought much of the name until you'd seen the man in person. In your heart, you knew it was Simon.

□ He was a part of the freshly created task Force 141, and you had been tasked to accompany them on a search and destroy mission.

□ The first time you laid your eyes on Ghost, you were beyond intimidated. His eyes held no trace of the man you once knew.

□ The only interactions you shared were brief and professional. Simon gave no indication that he even knew who you were, and if you were honest, it nearly tore you apart.

□ You had an internal struggle for days after seeing him again. You didn't know if he even wanted to talk to you, but you were so desperate to see him again and tell him you missed him all these years.

□ Deciding to just go for it, you found yourself walking into the weapons room and saw him cleaning his weapons at the nearest table.

"Ghost?" You asked meekly, slowly approaching the masked man.

"Y/N." He replied, not lifting his eyes from the gun in front of him.

"I um.. I wanted to say h-hi." You felt your cheeks heating up, and were embarrassed that you were stuttering. With our without the mask, this was still Simon. It had to be.

"Don't gotta act scared Sargeant. I won't bite." He looked up to you through his mask. You relaxed a bit, holding his eye contact.

"It's been awhile. I didn't.. I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me. I tried reaching out so many times.. I was…am worried about you." You looked down at your hands, growing nervous again as you awaited his answer.

He didn't say anything in reply, only grunting while he returned to cleaning his weapons.

You knew better than to push him. In your years of knowing him, if Simon didn't want to say anything, he wouldn't and nothing could change that. That's not to say you couldn't feel your heart slowly shatter, you now realized that perhaps this was no longer your Simon, and there was no chance of ever seeing him again.

"Well it was good seeing you. And if you ever want to talk, I'll be around." You smiled at him trying to mask the hurt you were feeling, and turned for the door.

"I couldn't lose you too." You heard him say softly. You could barely make out the words, but you whipped your head around to meet his eyes. "I lost my whole family, Y/N. I couldn't lose you too. The man that I've become since then, is not one that deserves someone like you."

"Oh, Simon. You could never lose me. No matter what I'm always here for you. You will always be Simon to me." You cooed as you moved to crouch in front of him. "I am so sorry that you had to go through that. I don't know what I could ever say to make up for that pain."

You could see Simon blink away tears in his eyes, and he moved to pull away his mask, leaving his face bare to you.

"There's my guy. I've missed seeing that face." You smiled as you slowly placed your hand on his cheek, stroking softly. "Simon, if you'll have me, I'll always be by your side. Can't get rid of me that easily."

He chuckled at your comment, and moved his own hand to your cheek, copying your movements.

The two of you sat like that for awhile, before he spoke up. "I've missed you all these years. I thought it best to push you away so you couldn’t get hurt from my actions. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if the woman I loved got hurt because of me."

His words shocked you. You'd loved Simon since the moment you met him, but you truly thought he'd only ever seen you as a familial figure. In the decade or so you'd known each other, he'd given very few hints away that he'd seen you in any way than more than just a friend.

"You love me?" You asked, meeting his gaze once more.

"I've always loved you. Why do you think I took you to meet my my mom and brother?" His eyes softened as he spoke, and his gaze flickered down to your lips.

You chocked out a small sob before crashing your lips onto his. The kiss was better than anything you could've imagined, as it was years in the making. All of the yearning, sadness, longing and love was all poured into this kiss.

You pulled away slowly and pulled his chin down to meet your eyes. "I love you too, Simon."

A rare smile formed on his face, as he moved to kiss your forehead. "Why don't I finish up here, and we can take a walk, yeah? Have a few years worth of stuff to catch up on."

He finished up, and grabbed your hand leading you out to the barracks. He gave your hand a squeeze as you fell in step beside him. As the two of you walked together, telling stories of your escapades the last few years, Simon finally allowed himself to grow happy again. He was beyond excited to start this new chapter with you, the woman he loved, and catch up on everything he'd missed.

—---

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!☺️ as always thanks for reading!

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #ghost mw2 #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #mw2 x reader

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enditen · 10 months

Text

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck.

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse.

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

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horseshoegirl · 1 year

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 8 - Drift Away

📜... Okay, I get it. Almost kisses suck 😂 Hopefully, some Sadie / Jake time might make up for it in the meantime?

I promise you don't have to wait for it that much longer.

❗️18+, strong language, angst, godmother reader/original female character, original child character.

#6.4K words

Part 7 | Masterlist | Part 9

“I wish you would have told us, Liz,” Nat said, staring down at Tyler's letter in her hands.

The Daggers showing up at your house unannounced was a common thing before Sadie. Your place only being 5 minutes down the road from the Hard Deck made it the perfect crash pad when they would go a little harder than they should sometimes or if they just wanted a place to escape.

However, they rarely got a day off during the week. Even if they weren’t flying, they were usually doing something on base. So when Bradley, Nat and Jake showed up at your door while Sadie was at school, it was obvious it wasn't for a social visit.

Due to a faulty coms tower and gas leak in the hangers, they had a week off. And the first thing they wanted to do was corner you on your couch and talk about Tyler. Jake had told Rooster, so naturally, Rooster would have told Nat.

You rarely saw Jake in the weeks that had passed since New Year’s Eve. With the weather being what it was and their training schedules being a mess from the last mission, Saturday nights hadn’t resumed back to their normal status.

You didn't know where you stood with Jake after that Night. The line between friendship and something more was being distorted. The better part of you, the one who constantly had Ridley's voice in your ear, was telling you to buck up and ask him about it. The other part of you, the more reserved, saying not to because you were probably making a bigger deal about it than you should.

A kiss on New Year's Eve, even an almost kiss such as that one, could be shared between friends, right?

It was a miracle if you got to see any one of them for longer than five minutes unless Bradley was picking Sadie up from School. Such as life in the Navy, you thought. That part of their life came first.

Jake had kept the letter from you, which you were semi-grateful for. Your nerves had severely calmed down since not being able to pull that stupid thing out to look at it every time Tyler entered your mind.

“Is it bad I don’t want Sadie to know?” you couldn't help but feel a little shameful for not telling her. But you knew your niece, she would be constantly worried about looking over her shoulder if she did know.

Jake was quick to answer you. “No. She doesn’t need any more on her plate.”

Rooster stood off to the side, leaning against the wall while twirling his thumbs. “How much does she know about Tyler?”

You bit your lip, looking up at Jake. He gave you a soft smile and an encouraging nod. Maybe it was time you told them the full story.

“Enough to know he’s not a good person,” you offered. “When she was born, Ridley and I swore we wouldn’t sugarcoat things with her. And that she wouldn’t go through what we went through.”

Nat placed a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve never really told us about it.”

You shook your head. “It’s not something I like to talk about. It has nothing to do with you guys.”

Bradley shook his head fondly. “That explains why she’s so well-rounded.”

You chuckled softly at his words before starting to cite the story to Nat and Rooster, much like you did with Jake that day on the hike, telling them about you and Ridley's escape from your childhood home and the worst of Tyler.

You couldn't take your eyes off Jake as the details of your past spilled out of you. He offered you a comforting smile or encouraging words when you struggled, reminding you to breathe. And when you finally reached the part about Tyler, Rooster and Nat saw red.

Rooster pushed himself off the wall, ranking his fingers through his hair. “I swear to god, he’s dead if he shows his face around here.”

“Get in line, Bradshaw." Jake's voice was firm. "I called first dibs.”

“Nope, ladies first," Nat pipped up. “Nobody is going after my niece. I get the first punch.”

You didn't know whether they were being serious or not, but their banter was doing wonders to lighten the mood. But then the shrill ringtone of your phone put a stop to their discussion of who would get to beat the shit out of Tyler first almost instantly.

There were times you never really answered the phone when the caller ID came up as unknown. But Sadie was at school, and you knew you couldn't let it go to voicemail for whatever reason. Even if seeing that 'Unknown' across the top of your phone triggered instant panic throughout your body - nothing good ever came from a phone call like this.

Bradley, Nat and Jake all remained silent as they watched you answer the phone.

“Hello?” you asked hesitantly.

“Hello, is this Elizabeth Beck?”

“Speaking?”

“It’s Mrs. Kirkland from Child Protective Services. Are you able to come in on Wednesday at 3:30 for a quick chat?”

You shouldn't have answered the phone. You were nervous as fuck.

“Um.. yes, I can.”

“Great, it shouldn’t take any longer than 15 minutes of your time.”

Your mind was on autopilot, your brain subconsciously offering the words before you could really formulate them. “Sure.”

“Great, we will see you then! Have a good day!”

“You too,” your voice quiet, though the click on the other end of the line told you the reply wasn’t needed. Dropping your phone into your lap, you hugged your chest.

“Liz?” Jake asked, sitting up in his chair and leaning forward. Nat turned to face you on the couch. “Is everything alright?”

“Um... that was CPS. I need to go in again,” you sniffed, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “On Wednesday at 3:30.”

“It’s probably the review,” Bradley pipped up. Jake glared at him, hoping he would take the hint and shut up.

“Shit, I have work. I have to close that night,” you realized. "I need someone to pick up Sadie from school and drive her to Penny's. Amelia has her car that day."

You immediately faced Rooster, a hopeful look on your face. Bradley grimaced, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Liz. I’m going up with Mav to the research camp the day before to help with a test flight.”

Your mind instantly went to Lyssa next, but she couldn't do it either. Will had a hockey game. And you knew Penny would instantly try to find a way to take your shift off your hands if she knew, but you didn't want to take advantage of her kindness. She already did enough for you.

Natasha was about to open her mouth when suddenly Jake pipped up next to you. “I can do it.”

You stared at him, shocked. "You wanna pick Sadie up from school? Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I don't mind. I'm not doing anything else, and I wouldn't mind spending some time with her."

Your face softened, but you cautiously eyed Rooster, preparing for a snide remark or another red-faced tomato moment in protest. Instead, you were surprised Bradley was looking at Jake almost appreciatively? Nat, however, was looking at Jake suspiciously.

"I'll call the school Wednesday then to let them know. And if you find Lyssa, Sadie will know where to go to find you," you told him.

Rooster walked over to Jake to stand in front of him, a funny look on his face. "And the one rule..."

“Don’t flirt with Courtney Slack," he was quick to reply. "I know."

It surprised you, Jake remembering such a small detail, even if you almost killed Rooster over it. However, you wouldn't blame Jake if he did. Jake was flirty by nature, and you were nothing like her.

“Besides, how hard could it be?”

Rooster chuckled, dropping his head before slapping Jake on the back with a shit-eating grin.

“Dude, you have no idea what you just agreed to.”

___

The morning of your visit with CPS, you made sure to call the school to let them know Jake would be picking Sadie up. Thankfully, when you explained the Tyler issue, they hadn’t swept up your concerns under the rug. Sadie’s file had the names of everyone who could call or pick her up, the list probably longer than most kids at that school, now even longer with the addition of Jake.

On the nights you would close the Hard Deck, Penny would have Sadie sleep over at hers. As much as you appreciated the support, you had a feeling it was more for Penny's benefit than yours. She adored Sadie, and you often wondered if she was missing when Amelia was her age.

So here you were, dropping off Sadie's bag before starting the painstaking journey to the CPS building.

“You know, I could have covered your shift,” Penny said as she took Sadie's overnight bag from you. You shook your head, crossing your arms as you leaned up against the side of her house.

“You already take enough of my shifts. Besides, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Somebody would still need to pick up Sadie.”

Penny raised her eyebrow.

“So Hangman volunteered to pick her up?” she asked, copying you by resting up against her door frame. She was examining you, seeing if, at any point, you’d fess up to something shouldn’t have done. You very much felt like a child being called out by their mother, but you weren’t sure why.

“Yeah, Sadie named him as an uncle, so he wanted to spend some time with her.”

“Oh,” she said, shoving her hands into her pockets. “So his has nothing to do with what happened on New Year’s Eve?”

You stiffened. Shit.

You should have known Penny would have seen you, seen what had happened. Nothing happened in the Hard Deck that she didn’t know about. You had hardly accepted it had happened, and you certainly didn't want to be having this conversation with her.

“Penny..” you said meekly, staring at her wide-eyed.

“Do I need to throw him out of the bar?”

“What?" you admonished. "No, absolutely not.”

“And here I thought you wouldn't give into him!"

“Penny, stop. Jake’s not that bad.”

"And now you're going to leave me!" she cried out. "You were my best, and he got to you!"

"Penny," you started to laugh. "I'm not leaving you. Nothing happened."

"Really?" she threw her hands up. "What do you call what happened that night then?!"

You crossed your arms, head turning to frown at her flower garden.

"I don't know," It came out sadder than you intended, your voice wavering as you tried to make sense of it all. "I told myself when I met him for the first time that I wouldn't get involved. Then Sadie.." you sniffed, wiping at your face.

"I think I like him," you admitted. "But I'm so fucking confused. And I don't want to disappoint you."

Penny suddenly looked sullen, realizing as you spoke to her that maybe she took this a little too far. She reached up and placed a hand on your shoulder before moving to your face.

"I'm sorry, Liz," she pressed the palm of her hand to your cheek. "I don't want you to feel as if you cannot come to me with these things."

You shuttered a breath, and Penny stroked a piece of your hair back behind your ear, reminding you of how you would do that with Sadie.

"It's just... you've never had a boyfriend," she chuckled softly. "I don't want you to get your heart broken."

Your laugh came out of nowhere. "I'm too much of a worry-wart to have a romantic relationship."

Penny smiled softly. "No, I think you care too much."

She pulled you into a hug, her head resting on your shoulder. "If Jake is serious about you, I won't stand in your way."

You shook your head, pulling back to smile at her. "Thanks, Penny, but I think he just wants to be my friend, which is totally fine. I just need to get over whatever this is."

Penny frowned at you but didn't press you further. She walked you to your car, hugging you goodbye and wishing you luck with the meeting. After you climbed into your car, she placed her elbows down on the open window of your car.

“Can I at least drag him for it?”

You thought about it for a second. You knew what she was doing. Starting your car, you put on your sunglasses and turned to face Penny, calling out your window, “Don’t leave him squirming for too long.”

___

Jake knew he was attractive. He often used it to his advantage to get what he wanted, enjoying the looks he'd get walking into a random place or when he was out on the street.

But the predatory glances he was receiving on a black top full of married middle-aged women?

It just freaked him out.

Maybe he would have thought differently once upon a time. But he also knew how catty women could be - if the way they were covering their mouths and leaving over to gossip to one another as he walked by meant anything. The minute Sadie found him, he knew your name would be whispered around like it was a dirty secret in some sorority magazine.

He found Lyssa where you said she'd be, leaning up against the wall near the basketball hoops. She waved him over, a smile on her face.

"Enjoying all the attention?" she said, greeting him.

"Have these women never seen a man before, or am I going to cause a riot?

"You're fine," she shrugged. "Just watch out for Ursula."

"Ursula?" Jake asked. Lyssa grinned, realizing he didn't know. "Will and Sadie call Courtney Slack Ursula ever since what happened with Rooster."

"Why do they call her Ursula?"

Lyssa only laughed, offering a vague, "You'll see."

Jake suddenly found himself not wanting to find out. Hoping Sadie would hurry up, he kept his eyes glued to the door, waiting for her to emerge. Sure enough, a bright green backpack caught his eye a few minutes later as one of Sadie’s teachers walked beside her.

He spied her, turning around and searching the crowd until her eyes finally landed on him.

“Uncle Jake!” It was a loud scream, Sadie’s joy infectious as she started to sprint from the front door and away from her teacher. Jake shot the person a wave, the teacher returning it before heading back inside.

If Jake wasn’t as fit as he was, he was pretty sure Sadie would have knocked him over with how heavily she flung herself into him, arms and legs completely wrapping themselves around his body. It took him a second to recover, but he returned her hug, laughter shaking his body as he asked, “How was school, Bug?”

“Boring,” she called out dramatically, sliding down to the ground before glancing up at him hopefully. “Can we go for a drive?”

“I have to get you to Penny’s.”

“Text Aunt Liz. She won’t mind.”

Jake was about to open his mouth to reply before a shrill feminine voice caused him to stop.

“Well, Hello there. I thought I would come over and introduce myself.”

Oh no, Sadie thought upon hearing that voice— the Wicked Sea Witch.

She turned on her heel, staring up at Rebecca’s mom. And she had her sights set on her Uncle Jake.

Nope, this would not happen. She had already ensnared one Uncle, and Uncle Jake wouldn’t fall under her spell if she had anything to do with it.

"I'm Courtney Slack. Which one of Sadie's uncles are you?" she attempted to flirt, sending Jake a doe-eyed look.

Eyeing Mrs. Slack carefully, Sadie went to stand in front of Jake, subconsciously puffing out her chest.

She felt her uncle Jake place a hand on her shoulder. Sadie tilted her head back to look up at him from upside down. He gave her a knowing look, raising his eyebrows at her.

Sadie prided herself on being able to read people's faces. And if she was reading this right, and she was always right, her Uncle Jake was telling her to play along. She was going to but couldn’t keep the chant from her head.

Please don’t be like Uncle Roo. Please don’t be like Uncle Roo.

She watched as her uncle Jake squared up the witch, a fake smile on his face as he said, "Oh, I'm Elizabeth's boyfriend."

Sadie tried as hard as she could not laugh, biting her lip hard to keep herself quiet.

Definitely not like Uncle Roo.

The flirty grin on Courtney's face dropped. "Oh, she never mentioned she was seeing anybody."

Reaching up to squeeze her uncle's hand on her shoulder, Sadie felt him squeeze it back.

“Didn’t know she had to,” he replied shortly, sending Courtney nothing but a scathing glare. “But now I can see why she didn’t.”

“I can’t imagine where she found you,” she tried again, another attempt at a seductive tone. “Elizabeth never seems to want to join our little meetings.”

"Not wherever you got your hair done, that's for sure."

Sadie caught herself in a sort, watching Courtney's face turn red. Sensing sea water was about to blow out of her nose, she wanted to get as far away from Rebecca's mom as she could.

“Come on, Uncle Jake,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging it as she leaned back. The sooner they both got out of there, the sooner her uncle would be safe from the crazy sea witch. Whatever spell she had cast on her Uncle Roo hadn’t worked with Uncle Jake, and she didn’t want to see what else she had up her sleeve.

“Duty calls!” he shrugged at her. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Flack… I mean Slack!”

Lyssa snickered as Jake and Sadie left, watching Jake peel Sadie’s backpack from her shoulders to sling around his. Looking at Courtney, she could see the gears turning in her head.

“Sorry, Slack. Looks like that one’s taken.”

Courtney turned to face Lyssa, her face red. “Your seriously telling me Elizabeth Beck bagged him?”

"Bagged him, captivated him, charmed him, take your pick."

"But she's so.."

"What? Not like you?" Lyssa snarked. "Thank god for that."

Courtney spluttered, her words coming out in a jumbled mess of how dare Lyssa say such a thing about her and that anyone, let alone a naval officer, would be grateful to be with her.

Lyssa just shrugged, reaching out to take Will's hand before walking off. If anyone saw her throw her middle finger over her head, she'd never admit to it.

The second Jake and Sadie had made it to his truck, the both of them stared at each other. Sadie squinted her eyebrows, and Jake held his breath. It only took three seconds before the pair of them started to lose it, laughing over what had happened. Sadie’s high-pitched giggles mixed in with the occasional snort from Jake.

“Is she always that bad?”

“Worse,” Sadie replied. “She usually seeks out Uncle Roo. He forgets I’m there for a second.”

That sobered Jake's laughter, a frown now etched across his face. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“No?” she asked him, her eyes wide and innocent.

Jake shook his head. “We can look out for each other when I do. I need a wingman to deal with Ursula."

Sadie’s eyes lit up. She knew she wasn’t the only one who noticed it. “She’s totally a sea witch, right?!”

"I think it's the hair. Maybe that's where she hides her tentacles."

Sadie squealed out in another fit of laughter. She knew her Uncle Jake wouldn't treat her like that. As her laughter died down, Sadie marched to the back passenger seat of Jake's truck, all the while saying, "Come on! We need to go for that drive."

Jake shook his head and came around to help her get up into the seat, carefully shutting the door behind her. But coming around to the back of his truck, he stopped realizing he needed to message you, knowing with everything going on, how important it was for you to know Sadie was with somebody safe as soon as possible.

Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text.

I have her. She wants to go for a drive.

You texted back within a few seconds.

Good luck.

And then...

She wants to talk to you.

Seeing your message, Jake suddenly understood what Bradley was talking about. It wasn’t Slack he should have worried about.

“You coming?” Sadie called out impatiently through the open window at the back of the truck. She had stuff she needed to talk to her Uncle Jake about and couldn't do it here.

“Just sending a text to your aunt,” he called back before glancing at Sadie through the window, realizing Rooster was right.

He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

___

When Sadie asked to go on a drive, Jake didn’t really know where else to take her other than the lookout. It was a spot he found a few weeks after the uranium mission when he learned the team would be staying together. It was off on some random stretch of road that overlooked the ocean, the small parking lot randomly appearing after some twist in the road.

He'd come here when he needed an escape or to be alone. And if you were right, it would be the perfect place for Sadie to talk with him.

Jake backed his truck into a parking spot that overlooked the ocean. Helping Sadie out of the truck with a hand, he proceeded to flip the door on the back of his truck bed down.

Sadie instantly caught on, trying to climb up but failing miserably to bring her body onto the door. She shamefully turned to Jake, a quiet peal for help on her face. Jake said nothing, pulling her up before sitting beside her, legs dangling over the side.

The two sat silently for a while, Jake listening to the waves crash up against the shore, waiting for Sadie to feel comfortable enough to say what she wanted to tell him.

It was a few minutes before he heard her ask, "Do you like my aunt?"

Jake watched Sadie play with the end of a piece of thread hanging off her jeans before answering, "Yes, what isn't there to like about your aunt?"

“No, but do you like, like her?”

Give it to Sadie, to be blunt. Jake carefully thought about what he could say back to her.

"You mean as in.." he trailed off, hoping it would prompt Sadie to speak further. But she didn't. Instead, she turned her head away so Jake couldn't see her face.

And then he knew.

"Is that why you sent me that photo of her?"

Sadie blushed, dropping her chin to her chest. "Please don't tell her I did that."

Jake tried to keep his voice level as he answered, "If you don't want me to."

“It's just..." she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "She needs somebody in her life to remind her she’s worth it.”

Jake nudged her. “Aren’t you that person?”

Sadie pondered Jake's question, squinting her eyebrows together as if she had to really think about her answer.

"It's different with me," She shrugged. "She's my aunt. I can only do so much."

"So you think I'm that person?" he asked her.

Sadie raked her eyes up and down Jake's body. “You wouldn’t be the worst choice.”

"Thanks, Bug," he said sarcastically. But Sadie's next words were like a cold rush of water over his body when she finally spoke up after a few seconds.

"But you make her happy. And she hasn't really been happy since Mom passed away. She's never even had a boyfriend."

Despite Sadie's admission, he gave her a soft smile. "You know that's not true. She's happy when she's around you."

"Yeah," she looked down at her hands. "But she's scared she's going to do the wrong thing. I just wish she'd know it's okay for her to ... not be so strong around me. Maybe she would stop worrying about everything if she had someone who cares about her like that."

Jake wrapped an arm around Sadie's shoulders, bringing her tight to his side. "You know that's because she loves you. As well all do."

Sadie sagged most of her weight into Jake at his words. "Thank you, Uncle Jake."

"So," she said after a while, picking at the frayed fabric of her jeans. "If you did want to be that person, I'm okay with it."

Jake couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, Bug."

"Besides," She smiled to herself. " If you mess up, I'm coming for you."

As if he didn't already know that.

---

Penny was waiting for the pair of them on her front step when Jake pulled into her driveway. He called after her to be careful when she jumped out of the truck before he had even stopped, Sadie sprinting to jump into her Aunt's arms. Jake shook his head, reaching over the seat to grab her backpack before getting out and walking up to her front step.

“What do we say to Uncle Jake, Bug?”

Sadie peeled herself out of Penny's arms, stepping down the few steps to give him a hug. She dramatically said in a sing-song voice, “Thank you, Uncle Jake.”

Leaning over, Jake returned her hug. But Sadie went up on her tiptoes, pulling Jake down and whispering, “Think about what I said.”

She happily hopped back to Penny, wrapping an arm around her waist. She ruffled Sadie’s head before asking, “Why don’t you head on inside? Fresh cookies are on the table, and your aunt dropped off your bag earlier.”

Sadie frowned. Adults had funny ways of getting rid of her. And her Aunt Penny knew chocolate was one of her weaknesses. Still, she needed to know why she needed to shove out.

"I need to have a talk with your Uncle," Penny offered when she didn't move.

“Talk or have a discussion?” she pressed.

Penny shook her head, placing a hand on her back and lightly pushed her towards the door, where she stumbled into the hallway. “Get in there, you insect.”

“It’s Bug!” she shouted, already dead set on finding those cookies. Whatever her Aunt Penny had to say to Uncle Jake, she made her point earlier. There was chocolate up for grabs.

Jake faced Penny with a smirk on his face, thinking she wanted to ask about Sadie.

“So, New Year's Eve,” she started, a healthy pause before she spoke again. “Do I need to ban you permanently from the Bar?”

The smirk dropped.

"Penny..."

“I told you!” She shoved her finger into his chest angrily. “She was off limits! Not her, Hangman!”

Jake held his hands up. "Nothing happened!"

"Really? So what was that kiss? Cause I see everything in my bar."

"It wasn't really a kiss?" he recalled, shrugging his shoulders. Penny reached up and smacked him on the back of his head. Jake winced, a hand coming to rub at the spot.

"What are you doing with her, Jake?" Penny sighed. "She's not some girl you can mess around with for a night and go on as if nothing happened."

"You don't think I know that?" he snapped. Penny was slightly taken aback by his words.

"Liz is..." he started, pausing to understand exactly what he was feeling. He raked his fingers through his hair, turning in a circle before facing Penny once more. "She's never once treated me as if I was undeserving of something. That I didn't have to earn a place in her life. Or Sadie's."

He was breathing hard. Harsh pants that racked his chest as if he had pulled harsh G's in an F-18.

"And she's not afraid to put me in my place if I'm out of line. She doesn't expect anything from me either. She simply just wants time."

Feeling overwhelmed, Jake took a moment to take a deep breath. He knew he was rambling to Penny, but he was past the point of stopping. "And I don't know if I can give it to her."

There were a few moments on that last deployment where he thought he wasn't going to make it back. And the time away changed his priorities. Somehow, you and Sadie became the reason he stopped thinking about the inevitable moment he would burn in and, instead, the reason why he needed to stay alive.

Jake flew like he had nothing to lose. But now? He had everything to lose.

"She's... she's a possibility of someday," he breathed out. "And if I cannot be in her life, in Sadie's life, I don't know what I'll do."

Penny took a moment to take in Jake's words before replying, "You care about her, don't you? The both of them."

Jake gawked up at Penny as if she had just dealt him a fatal blow, as if he didn't just spit his heart out to her. He knew she wasn't really asking. Rather, she was confirming what he could never voice out loud.

So he found himself absentmindedly nodding along to Penny's statement. "The both of them."

"Are you serious about this, Jake?" It was rare for Penny to call him by anything other than his call sign. “Cause I’ll tell you, Liz has never had a boyfriend in the time that I've known her. And I've known her while.”

"I know. I think I just got some ten-year-old version of a shovel talk from Sadie."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sadie gave you a shovel talk?"

"Of a sort."

Penny glanced back at the house with a smile before taking a look at Jake one last time before making her way up to her front door. Taking it as a sign that Penny wouldn't ban or rat him out any longer, he returned to his truck.

Though he wouldn't be surprised if she did ban him, or worse, set Mav on him for good measure during a dog fight.

Jake gripped the handle of his truck, about to step up onto the ledge after opening the door, when he heard Penny’s voice call after him. He turned around to see her grinning at him from her doorway.

“She’s closing by herself tonight," a knowing smile across her face. "Could you make sure she get’s home alright?”

___

Closing the Hard Deck late at night used to freak you out.

The hours after midnight, when it was just the wind, the waves, and the night sky, only added to your fear something was lurking outside or in the water. It was much like a kid's reaction when waking up in the middle of the night, the dark shapes of objects in the room making it feel like somebody, or something, was with them in their room watching.

That was until you realized you could play the Jukebox as loud as you wanted.

You had locked the front door to the Hard Deck a little over a half hour ago. It had been such a quiet night you found yourself doing the random odd tasks that never seemed to get done. Deep cleaning the sinks, cleaning out the fridges, and making new labels for the working stations around the bar.

That also included the now regretful decision of mopping the floors, considering you would now get out of here much later than you intended. But you weren't as upset with yourself as you should have been.

Music always had a way of calming you down. It was a habit you always seemed to have growing up. If you hurt yourself or you were upset, you'd retreat to a world full of beats and lyrics. Though, looking back on photos of yourself as a child, chunky earphones almost always on your head, you started to get it. It was evident Ridley was, in a way, protecting you from the worst of your father.

Which was how you found yourself swaying back and forth, eyes closed as you brought the mop across the floor, moving along and getting lost in the music. The Hard Deck was your safe haven, and moments like this allowed you to forget everything else going on in your life.

Anticipating a swell in the music, you smiled to yourself, your eyes still closed as you spun on your heel. But something pulled the mop from your hand, and a shrill gasp escaped your lips when your back hit a firm chest, a hand now gripping your wrist softly.

“You really need to lock that back door.”

Jake spun you out under his arm, pulling you back to him so he could see your face. You shuttered out a laugh.

“Jesus, Jake. Don’t do that!”

He chuckled under his breath. "Hi, darlin'."

"Sadie made it out okay?" you asked as he placed a hand on your waist. He pulled you to the side, his hand sliding up to thread his fingers through yours, as he replied, "Safe and sound at Penny's."

You follow your arm to observe Jake's hand in yours, then peering up at him curiously, "What are you doing?"

"Slow dancing."

"No, what are you doing here?" you tired again. "It's past midnight."

"Penny said you were going to be by yourself. I wanted to make sure you made it out okay."

"I've closed by myself before, Jake."

For a split second, you thought he was fixated on your lips. But you didn't have a chance to confirm it as Jake spun you once again.

"That was before I came along." He said, pulling you back to him. "My ma would kill me if she knew I left you alone."

"Jake, I'm perfectly capable of ..." you didn't get to finish your sentence. Jake spun you once again before dipping you backwards rather dramatically. Giggling as he brought you up, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

Taking the moment to ground yourself, you slid your hands around his back, your hands resting between his shoulder blades. Feeling dizzy, you pressed the side of your cheek into Jake's chest, letting him gently sway you back and forth as the song played from the Jukebox.

You were sure minutes could have passed, but it was only mere seconds. You felt safe in Jake's arms, content to let him hold you, to press you into his body. He was fitting so perfectly into the moment you had created for yourself where the world outside didn't exist, and it was just the two of you here, listening to music.

But the lines for you were still blurred, and the urge to ask him about New Year's Eve was still there. You felt it on the tip of your tongue, ready to come forth and burst this little bubble of joy you were taking for yourself.

“The results of the review came in,” you said instead, chickening out at the last second. Jake stopped swaying the both of you, his hands on your hip tightening as he leaned back to focus on your face.

“And?”

You remain silent.

“Liz?” he questioned you, eyes becoming slightly frantic. You dropped your chin to your chest, hands slightly gripping Jake’s bicep and shoulder tighter.

“Elizabeth, what happened?!”

You lifted your head, a wide grin spreading across your face. “There was nothing wrong. At least with the paperwork. It’s ironclad.”

He blinked. “Sadie’s staying?”

“Well, till she’s 18 or goes off to school or breaks my heart when she gets together with Will,” you shrugged.

Jake surged forward, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you up. He buried his face in your stomach, muffled shouts of ‘yes!’ making you laugh harder. Your nose grazed his hair, smelling his Moroccan shampoo as you tried to avoid hitting the ceiling.

"Jake! Put me down!" you laughed as he twirled you around in a circle.

"Hey," he said, setting you down. "Our girl deserves the best. Somebody needs to give him the shovel talk.”

Our girl.

You smiled softly at his protectiveness for Sadie. “He’s eleven, Jake.”

“Then he’ll think twice before making a move on her.”

"She's going to be dating eventually."

"Hey, I'm taking my newly appointed Uncle duties very seriously."

You pressed your forehead into his chest, soft chuckles shaking your body. Jake placed a hand on the back of your neck, the other resuming its place on your waist, as he resumed swaying you back and forth along the Hard Deck Floor.

Even with all the shit that happened - with everything you figured was still yet to happen - being here with Jake felt like nothing else mattered. The discussion about whatever happened on New Year’s Eve could wait. You didn’t want to risk ruining this bubble over both of you.

And even if you never brought it up, that would be okay too. What you had here with Jake, swaying in the middle of the night at the Hard Deck, was enough.

Jake was your friend who helped you through a stressful time.

It had to be enough.

He waited until you finished closing up to leave with you, watching you from a bar stool with a happy smile. After you shut off the lights, Jake followed you to the front door, stepping out first to look into the parking lot before holding it open.

You spied his truck and another car you weren’t familiar with but weren’t surprised. Surfers often stayed on the beach, in all seasons or weather, to catch those first morning waves. Penny not having an overnight parking rule made the Hard Deck a prim parking spot.

Though it was a bit early for the surfers to start pulling their parking lot sleepovers.

Locking the door, you felt Jake’s hand on your lower back. “Can I walk you to your car?”

You met his eyes. “I walked here.”

A pause. “Can I drive you home?”

“It’s five minutes, Jake.”

“It’s on my way,” he replied, holding out his hand for you.

You made a show about answering him. But honestly, you really didn’t need to think about it.

“Alright,” you said, placing your hand into his. “I’ll let you drive me home.”

Any more time you could spend with him was just a bonus.

You guys might not have to wait long for the next part 👀 With the threat of pitchforks still looming, I might have written part nine before part eight.

Tags:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal

Part 9: Hang On, Hang On is dropping soon.

(Maybe in a day or two, I still need to edit 😂)

Wickett ;)

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bayisdying · 1 year

Text

Lucky Penny - Chapter Twenty-Seven

A/N: we are almost done with Germy 😏 for now

Besties for the resties: @dragon-kazansky @gracespicybradshaw @mrsjaderogers @callmemana @ladylanera @kloofspeaks @callsignthirsty @cycbaby @likelyrowdy @roosterscockpit @notyoursbutlewis @starlit-epiphany @askmarinaandothers

The men of Hermes' squadron lied through their teeth on the mission debrief and they interrupted her at every chance. If looks could kill? They'd all be as dead as they wished she was.

The fire in her eyes was running wild, and they had no idea how burned they were about to get.

Their Admiral announced that their squadron was being invited back to Top Gun per one Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky. That made Lucky smirk, they all celebrated but they had no idea.

When they boarded the plane, Lucky sat alone. Her notebook full of their mistreatments tucked safely in her bag. She was scrolling through pictures on her phone when she comes across one of all of their Chaos Family at their wedding. She knew that everyone in this picture would have her back in California, and she felt safe.

-----

Ice was pacing back and forth. Their plane was landing soon and he couldn't decide whether he was going to hug his girl or punch Hermes first.

Dragon already knew what she was doing, she was holding her girl, Mickey could kiss bricks if he thinks he's getting the first hug.

Cin was also freaking out, Jake had told her that Lucky was almost home and though she knew her friend would never blame her for sending her on this mission. She didn't want Lucky to think she did it on purpose. All she needed was to see her friends smile as she was reunited with them all.

Jake had gathered Bradley, Javy, Rueben, Phoenix and Bob in the rec room as they awaited the plane. He finally told them what he'd done for Lucky and about the report she'd filed aganist Hermes the first time they'd been at Top Gun. Bradley obviously was the most mad about it, but the others were just as angry. They would all stand behind her during the meeting.

Mickey was more than excited, he was finally going to have his wife in his arms once more. He knew he probably wouldn't get the first hug, but once he did? He wasn't letting go.

-----

"You must think you're tough shit coming home."

"Well Hermes, unlike you I have friends."

"You sure know how to be nice."

The bus takes them from the airport to Top Gun. The boys seem to think they are about to be rewarded by THE Iceman for a job well done.

Waiting outside was the entire Dagger Squad, in the middle stood Ice and Dragon with stony expressions.

The men all climbed out of the bus first forming a line, Lucky behind them the smirk on her face obvious, she bypasses their formal line and half-runs to the group standing there. Mickey takes a step forward and catches her duffle bag when she throws it into his arms. She reaches Cin and hugs her friend as tight as she could.

"I'm so sorry Lucky."

"Don't you dare apologize babe. I love you."

"I love you too." Cin tears up and cries into her shoulder.

She can hear the men making comments, she doesn't care. This is her home, these are her people.

After Cin had been properly hugged, Dragon stepped forward and took her daughter into her arms.

"Welcome home baby." She whispers in her ear.

"Thanks Momma."

"They'll never hurt you again."

"Can we get this little show on the road?" Calls out Hermes, and Lucky can feel Dragon tense up.

"Well gentleman, I suppose we can do that." Ice says, as Lucky makes her way to Mickey's arms. He kisses her forehead and doesn't let go.

Hermes steps forward, "I'm sure you understand how important this mission was and it was a success."

"Was it?" Jake says. "Was it really?"

"It's good to see you again Hangy." Hermes smirked.

Lucky goes to remove herself from Mickeys grip but he just tightens his hold around her waist.

"I wouldn't call almost killing the best aviator in the Navy, a successful mission." The voice that spoke was Dragon's, but she sounded nothing like how anyone had ever heard her before. Sure they'd heard her angry, but this? This was a whole new level, this was Dragon.

Hermes straightened up at that but he kept that damn smirk on his face, "I don't recall almost dying on this mission Commander Kazansky."

Lucky growled at that comment and Mickey had to tighten his grip again, thankfully Payback, Coyote, and Rooster were all there to offer hands to keep Lucky from beating the shit out of Hermes despite them all wanting to let her go.

"And I don't recall you ever being a good aviator." Dragon retorts.

"Oh you were talking about Lucky weren't you? She's fine, obviously she has all her little boytoys..."

He doesn't get to finish his statement, Lucky manages to shake off all her "little boytoys" and stomps her way over to Hermes.

"You can be an asshole to me all you want Hermes, but you say one word about any of my family? There won't be a body for your poor mother to bury."

For what it's worth, Hermes stands his ground too.

"Well damn Steele, no need to throw a temper tantrum."

"Her last name isnt Steele anymore." Mickey says walking up behind his wife. "It's Garcia."

"I guess my invitation got lost in the mail, since you have me to thank for getting the girl."

"I would have never said yes to you." Lucky says her voice dark, not liking where this was going.

He looked around at his men then at the crowd behind Lucky, then back down at Lucky.

"Men, you all just had the opportunity to fly with the only pilot who had to bang her way to the top. I mean look at all the men back there supporting her. You got Rooster and Hangy who can't deny a pretty girl. Hell I bet she's even rolled around with Coyote and Payback though I wouldn't imagine they are really her type. Maybe even sweet Bobby over there has had a chance. You think Iceman would be pulling out all the stops if he didn't know just how good that pus.."

When the fist connects with Hermes' face time stands still. Lucky has to look down at her own hands to make sure she hadn't punched him. No, it hadn't been her. It had been her husband. Her sweet, kind, goofy husband had punched the motherfucker.

Mickey stood over where Hermes lay on the ground holding his nose. "Never ever talk about my wife like that again or it wont just be a punch." He then turns around, grabs Luckys hand and walks her into base, bypassing even all their friends who try to stop him.

He guides her to the rec room, and once he decides they are far enough removed from the situation he turns around and kisses his wife soundly on the mouth.

"That was very sexy of you Mr. Gracia." She says as they pull apart.

"Yeah, now I know why you like punching people so much. It felt good."

Lucky smiles up at him, "can I see the damage?"

He holds out his right hand, and they both cringe a little when they see how bruised the knuckles already are.

"You pulled a real me out there." Lucky teases as she digs the first aid kit out of a cabinet.

"He wasn't going to finish that statement, not about my girl." Lucky opens her mouth, but he stops her, "I know you can handle yourself Bay, but I did vow to always protect you."

Lucky just smiles at him as she makes him sit on the worn out couch, and straddles his lap. Taking his hand in hers, she begins to take care of his knuckles.

"It's odd being on the other end of this." Mickey comments as he watches his wife concentrate on wrapping his hand.

"Oh shut up."

"Pretty sure I also vowed to annoy you the rest of our lives."

"That was Spicy's speech not your vows you dipshit."

"Spicy is smarter than I am."

"I'm glad you finally realize this."

He laughs, "I missed you."

"I missed you more."

"Impossible because I missed you way more than he did." Cin's voice carries through the rec room.

"Cin!" Lucky jumps off Fanboy's lap and runs to her friend and gives her another crushing hug. "I missed you so much too."

"Wow okay, I'm just chopped liver then." Mickey says sarcastically.

"Shut up Mickey." Both girls say at the same time.

"Where the fuck is my sister and my hug from her?"

"Roo!" Lucky catapults herself into his arms.

"God I missed you sis."

"Awww you missed me?"

"Don't ruin this nice moment."

The others joined them and hugs were given all around. Rueben picked her up and spun her around. Javy kissed her cheek.

Jake leans against the doorway taking in the sight.

"I guess I'm happy to see you back here in one piece." He says and Lucky whips around.

"Oh Jake, thank you so much." She says as she hugs him tight. "I guess you aren't so bad."

"Wow thanks babe."

"Hey now, that's my wife Seresin." Mickey teases.

"Oh you can have her Garcia!"

"Oh come on, I'm a delight and any man would be lucky to have me."

"Only Mickey is crazy enough to love you." Jake jokes.

Lucky smiles at her friend, "thanks again Jake. It meant alot for you to actually do what I asked."

"Only for you, you chaotic woman."

Rooster interrupts to say "Spicy just text, they're shutting down the Hard Deck for a special someone's coming home party."

"What about our pals that totally are never flying for the Navy again?" Lucky asks and Cin speaks up.

"Their meeting with all the higher ups is set for tomorrow. They think it's just a debrief and maybe some rewards." She gives an evil smile.

"Then let's go drink!"

"I get first dibs at Spicy, Chicken."

"I swear to God I will race you for that."

"And there they go." Jake sighs as the two run out to their cars.

Once they got to the Hard Deck, Lucky didn't even give the car a chance to be put in park before she was climbing out and running inside the bar.

"Where's my wife?" She calls out to the empty bar.

"Baylie!" Spicy comes running out of the kitchen.

"Grace!"

The two meet in a huge hug where neither want to let go first.

"Damn it, she beat me."

"She'll always beat you Bradley."

"Ouch."

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

Reading I.R.I.S. it 100% tracks that Mav's kid would require an enormous amount of supervision, that kid has probably had that callsign since she could walk, and I bet 5 bucks that Ice or Slider gave it to her. Cause they dealt with the father you can bet that she's 10x worse!!

I.R.I.S // Jake Seresin Masterlist

Warnings: Jake Seresin x Younger!Female reader. Oral, male recipient.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Absolutely! It would have been Ice. The callsign definitely originates from your childhood, I’m inclined to believe that it would have come about when you’d just started walking much like you anon. You would have been a chip off the old block. Which carries on into your young adult life and your current entanglement with a certain Lieutenant Commander.

“Fuck!” Jakes biting down on his fist as he guides your mouth up and down his length. He’s looking at himself in the free standing mirror that sits nestled in the corner of your room. “Ohh fuck yess—“ It’s the best head he’s ever received. Your lips? So plump and glossy. Your mouth? Warm and ever so inviting. Your tongue? Otherworldly and the way you take Jake down your throat so expertly had him weak in the fucking knees. “Iris, fuck you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Love sucking you off.” You pulled off Jake with a pop of your lips. Jerking him off with your hand as you licked up the vein that runs across the underside of Jake's heavy set cock. “I know I’m all you think about, at work.” You teased. “At home.” You moaned. “When you’re fucking other women, I know I’m all you think about, Jake.” You weren’t wrong, if anything you’d hit the nail on the head as you went back to sucking Jake off like your life depended on it. The thing you were wrong about though, was the fact Jake thought about you when he was with other women. Because since he tasted your desire? He hadn’t been with anyone else.

“Oh my god, I’m going to fucking hell—“

But the best part of all was that Jake was staring directly at a Polaroid of you that was stuck to your mirror, sitting on Maverick's lap. Matching aviators and all, smiling bright toothy grins. Like father, like daughter. It made him all the more ready to bust down your throat as you gagged around Jakes girth—you let him buck his hips to meet your mouth as he face fucked you. Watching the way his fingers disappeared into your hair as you kneeled before him in the mirror.

“Oh god oh god oh god—“ Jake was seconds away, he could feel his muscles tightening, his orgasm pooled at the base of his saliva coated cock as he pulled himself from your mouth. “Fuck! Open—“ You do with glee, looking up at Jake through wet lashes as he fist fucked himself to his high, coating your awaiting tounge. If he was going to hell for this he was gonna enjoy the elevator ride down.

It’s euphoric, the rush, the high. Jakes sighing as you rise to kiss him, tasting himself on your lips as his hands come down and around to cup your ass. Giving you a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll be out later.” You smile softly, Jake had come over for dinner with Bradley. He wasn’t used to having you at your dads house. But while you were in North Island, Mavericks' spare room turned temporarily humble abode was far more enticing than the dorms on base. “I’ll give you a head start.”

Jake had only just gotten to your dads. He was busting for a leak after Roosters Sunday afternoon grandma driving. That bloody Bronco of his couldn’t go any quicker than a few miles a minute. But as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall? You’d lured him into your room, like a damn venus fly trap. Seducing him with a wicked smile and your alluring eyes.

“I’m not gonna make it through this barbecue with you around, am I?” Jake asked, he knew he was in too deep.

“If you’re lucky I might even acknowledge your existence—“ You teased. Ever since you and Jake had started hooking up, you’d kept it on the down low. No feelings, just fucking. To put it simply you both got off on the fact you were both risking everything. You could be caught any second by anyone, especially giving head in your dads home. “See ya round Lieutenant Commander.” You winked before pulling away from Jake, opening your bedroom door to see if the coast was clear for Jake to slip out. Tucking himself back into his jeans, he did just that without so much as another word. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact Pete Maverick Mitchell’s daughter just blew him in his spare room.

In the first weeks of your training, you’d shown Jake nothing but the utmost respect when it came to the presentation and hops he led. You acted like there was nothing there besides a teacher/student relationship. But outside of the classroom? Oh how things were scandalous.

So after about an hour or so, you decide to grace everyone with your presence. Everyone being your dad, his best friends and your honorary uncles, Admiral Tom Iceman Kazanksy, and Ron Slider Kerner. Bradley Bradshaw, who was just as apart of the furniture as Ice was and the newest addition to Saturday night Barbecue brodown, was none other than Jacob Seresin.

With a beer in his hand and Rooster by his side, Jake watched as you sauntered out onto the back patio, boyfriend jeans on and a random sweatshirt you thought may have been one of Bradley’s from one of the many times he’d stayed the night on Mavs couch.

“Ah, there she is!” Slider beamed. “Iris, staying out of trouble I hope?” It had been a while since you’d seen uncle Slider, you know? With living across the country and all with your mum majority of the time.

“You know who’s daughter I am, right?” You laughed as you gave uncle Slider a side hug, it made Jake's balls tighten watching all these powerful, legendary men fawn over you—he was a deadman walking. He knew it.

Ice just handed you a beer as he greeted you from his place at the table. Noticing the somewhat bleak expression you wore, he thought if anything you’d be as chipper as ever. You know, officially being in the top One Percent.

“Well that’s not the glow of an arrogant fighter pilot?” Ice asked as you sat with a sigh, taking a sip of the beer you’d been given as you looked at Hangman and Rooster over your shoulder, sending Jake a sly wink before you turned your attention back to your uncle Ice.

“Oh god, the Mitchell arrogance was fucked out of me a years ago.” You snickered behind the lip of your beer, watching with pure delight as your comment made five grown men shiver and cringe at the image. All for different reasons.

“Jesus—“ Slider groaned, holding the bridge of his nose.

“Holy shit, you did not just say that.” Bradley splattered as he gasped for air, spitting his beer out onto the grass.

“Baby—“ Mav groaned in annoyance. “I love our man-to-man-talks but we need to set some boundaries here.” He pleaded, begged you even. “I can’t unhear that honey.” You just chuckled across from him.

“Good thing it was a metaphor then huh? meaning I ain’t nothin like you pops.” You grinned, shrugging your shoulders as you pressed your lips together. “Sorta—“ Jake just wanted to die, he could feel his heart beating out of his ass as Bradley stood next to him coughing up the sip of beer he’d tried to take that went down the wrong way at your openness.

“Good, because if I ever come face to face with any guy that thinks he can put his hands on you, I’ll rip his throat out.” Jake forgot how to breathe as he stood by just watching the interaction playing out before him. It was his job to watch the chicken skewers that were cooking on the grill. Turns out he wasn’t very good at that simple task.

“Can I get that in writing? You know? For the next time someone tries to hit on me at the Hard Deck? Or better yet, throw me your card dad and I’ll tattoo ‘Mavs little girl’ across my forehead.”

“Okay, enough—“ Pete stood, Ice just chuckled softly to himself as you turned to clink your beer with his. It was a common interest you both shared, pissing off your dad.

“Hangman, Rooster I dunno how you’re gonna put up with her over the next few weeks.” Slider added. “Make sure you keep an eye on her, she gets into all sorts of trouble if left unsupervised.” The pair just laughed, until Rooster was leading Jake away into the yard.

“Yeah, Hangman.” Rooster sent Jake an all knowing grin. A shit stirring kinda grin. “Better keep an eye on her, wouldn’t want her getting into any trouble?” It wasn’t a conversation loud enough for Mav to hear, but you could tell by the look on Jakes face that Bradley was giving him shit. “By the way, I saw you sneak into her room you sick freak—you are suicidal aren’t you!?” Rooster whisper-shouted.

“Listen here you son of a bitch.” Jake went to start defending himself, but he didn’t have a leg to stand on. You were the forbidden fruit he was addicted to. “I know! I know this is bad alright, but you gotta have my back man—or else I’m screwed.” Jake pleaded. “You heard Mav? He’s gonna slit my fucking throat!”

“He might scoop your balls out of your sack with a spoon while he’s at it too.” You added, making both Jake and Bradley jump and turn around to face you. Shock and panic flooding their system.

“Jesus Iris you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Jake groaned. You just giggled innocently. It kinda turned you on to see him this frazzled, this out of sorts. Not so in control.

“You move like a goddamn Prius.“ Bradley added. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.”

“Thanks, I found it in the bottom of the drawer in my room.” You explained. “Couldn’t come out here wearing the shirt I was before, turns out deadman here has no aim.”

“IRIS!!” Jake groaned through gritted teeth.

“Oh my fucking god dude you’re so screwed.” Bradley had to fight off the hume creeping across his cheeks at the thought. “I’d start getting your affairs in order if I were you.” Bradley turned, heading back towards where Mav stood over Sliders shoulder, looking at something on his phone. You couldn't not take the opportunity to fuck with him.

“Hey Rooster? What exactly do you think Mavs gonna do when he finds out you knew your buddy here was taking advantage of his sweet, impressionable daughter?” You asked, watching as Jake grinned ear to fucking ear at Rooster, reveling the very second he realised he was in this too.

Fuck

“I’ll grab a shovel.” Jake sighed as Bradley turned the seven colours of bad shit at the fact he was going to go down in this as an unwilling accomplice. “We can dig our graves beside each other.”

“You need twenty four fucking seven supervision you know that you little brat.” Rooster hissed through gritted teeth. “This is such bull shit—“ Bradley groaned, shoving his shoulder against Jakes as he walked past. “Next time you spill a drink on someone ask for fucking ID.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

#Iris // Jake Seresin #jake seresin x f!reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut

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lucid-loves · 3 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 7

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 4.8k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s time to tag the targets with trackers during breakfast service. You and Price make an unsettling discovery regarding the weapon shipment. Meanwhile, Ghost has been taking every opportunity to touch you and drive you nuts, making it hard to organize your feelings for him. The only way to get him to understand is to finally confess your feelings to him.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The landscape across Europe flashed by as the train sped along the track. The hills and trees in the distance began to become brighter as the sun rose above the horizon. The countryside of Europe was gorgeous. Olive-green grass, rich orange and yellow trees, all over hills that rolled like waves. You’ve seen this scene before from one of your solo missions. You’ve forgotten just how beautiful it could be outside your cabin.

As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, painting it with comfortable pinks and purples, train attendants began to open the dining car for breakfast as well as take orders for those that wanted to dine in their room. As passengers began to leave, Ghost, Price, and you sprung into action. Not before Ghost took your hand while Price wasn’t looking though. You turned wondering what he could possibly want at this moment. You didn’t have a lot of time before the train attendants would come back to deliver food to passengers.

Simon just raised your hand to his mask, kissing it through the fabric. His eyes met yours, giving you a sincere look. Blonde strands of his already tousled hair fell towards his forehead as he looked down at you. His voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting anyone but you to hear his next words. “Be safe, kitten.”

A harsh blush swept over your cheeks, your heart tripping over itself at the nickname. His sincere look turned mischievous as he noticed the red starting to take over your cheeks. You pulled your hand away harshly and turned back to catch up with Price. How dare he! Giving you a nickname like that all of a sudden! Was he trying to fucking kill you!

For once, you were speechless. He really caught you off guard this time. And Simon reveled silently with this victory. The game clearly wasn’t over yet.

Ghost headed towards the dining car, quickly spotting the target men up ahead heading in the same direction. You and Price went back towards the luggage car in the opposite direction. The observant captain noticed your blush and suddenly sour expression, but he didn’t bring it up. He just figured that you and his lieutenant were still going at it like an old, married couple.

As quietly and slyly as you two could, you snuck into the luggage cart and closed the door behind you. You leaned against the side of the door, out of the way of the small window that allowed people to take a quick peek in. Standing as a lookout, you waited for John to find the weapons. That unfortunately meant going through a lot of suitcases. Hopefully, you two would get lucky and find it within the first few cases.

“Shit, all of these bags look the same.” The captain commented in frustration after opening a few suitcases. You looked over for a brief moment, scanning the massive piles of luggage for any hint of the targeted one.

“Try to look for one with a sticker or a tag. Anything that would help the men make sure they don’t take the wrong bags by mistake.” You advised, your gaze falling back towards looking out the window once again.

Price picked up the pace, looking through bag after bag before spotting a few pieces of luggage with the identical stickers. Urzikstan flag stickers. If the luggage was flagged and searched during the trip, the weapons would be assumed to come from there. The thought of Farah facing another trial of proving her and her people’s innocence made him simmer with rage. However, the mission must proceed.

“Found them.” He announced, quickly opening up the cases to place the trackers. What he saw inside, though, made him pause. He wasn’t looking at guns. Guns that he has grown familiar with over so many years of using them. Instead, he was looking at separate pieces. Ones that resembled hard plastic. Matte, dark gray, and void of any familiar markings to indicate their brand.

“What the hell am I look at?” He pondered out loud, catching your attention. After checking if the coast was clear, you came over and examined his findings. You picked up a couple pieces of the plastic, assembling them together in your mind like a puzzle. Your expression grew grim as you realized what they were.

“They’re gun parts to assemble ghost guns.” You deduced, having seen stories about this making their way through the news a while back. It was a good thing that you always kept up with the news, no matter where it was from or what it was about.

Price wasn’t following. He rarely had time to sit down and catch himself up on news stories. He relied on his base to update him on what was happening with the world. Stories were quick to change too as public interest switched all the time. Price was in the dark, and he shouldn’t be. “What the fuck is a ghost gun?”

You took the trackers from him and began tagging the inside of the luggage, feeling all the parts brush past your hand. The suitcase seemed bottomless with gun parts. “Ghost guns are guns assembled with gun parts, but the parts are untraceable and usually unnoticeable since the parts aren’t traditional parts. These are 3D printed parts. They can be made completely in the comfort of one’s own home. Some states are trying to crack down on the creation of these guns, but as you have probably guessed based on my earlier statement, they are incredibly hard to track down and trace back. It’s not exactly illegal to buy ghost gun kits too.”

John couldn’t believe that he missed this piece of essential news. He couldn’t believe that no one told him about it. It seemed like a huge problem to look out for that shouldn’t have been swept under the rug. He was pissed. “So in addition to using the catacombs, this is how Makarov has been moving weapons without getting caught. Fucking hell.”

“Try not to sweat it too much, John. This news piece didn’t last even a week. Besides, this problem has been deemed to be a police problem, not a military one. Cases of this have always been coming from civilian homes. Until now, that is. Yes, your government should have done something as soon as this seemed like an issue. They were negligent. But, that’s not on you.” You tried to explain.

Price understood why you hated the military and government so much now. Before, he recognized that there were some problems that needed to be addressed within the system. There was a lot of red tape, a lot of traditions, and a lot of pressure. Still, he would defend it, proud to be serving a country that ultimately wanted to make the world more at peace. Now though, he couldn’t get past this neglect. This mistake that should have been nipped in the bud on a federal level. That combined with Shepherd being a traitor and getting away with it for so long, it made Price feel furious. Almost hopeless.

They needed to take Makarov down and get back home as soon as possible. He needed to try to fix this mess.

Once the trackers were in place, John radioed his men back in the car. His voice was heavy with fury. “Test the trackers now.”

“Signal is coming through clearly, Captain. You sound rough, though. Everything okay?” Gaz respondes, concern clear in his tone.

“We’ll explain the situation later.”

On Ghost’s end, he heard the brief conversation through his earpiece. The dining cart was pretty full considering that guests had the option to eat in their own roomette. The smell of fresh eggs, bacon, sausage, pasties, and coffee had his stomach rumbling. In order to stay inconspicuous, Gaz and Soap were ordered to reject any train staff that stopped by to provide them service. He was going to attempt to kill two birds with one stone here. Place the trackers on the men and order breakfast to their roomette once the tasks are done.

A waiter approached him, asking what he would like in Italian before realizing that English was needed. Simon told him that he was going to enjoy a fresh cup of tea in the dining cart, but the rest of breakfast would be sent back. As he relayed the large order that was sure to fill everyone’s stomachs, his eyes watched Makarov’s men sitting in a booth. They haven’t noticed him. In fact, they seemed completely wrapped up in their own conversation, laughing and smiling over hot coffee.

The waiter gestured for him to take any seat he wanted while he waited. Simon took the booth right behind his targets. He listened carefully, trying to pick out an opportunity to plant the trackers. A cup of black tea was delivered to his table along with a copy of the day’s newspaper. He didn’t ask for one, but everyone else that dined alone seemed to be reading one.

The black tea was perfect, the flavor balanced perfectly between the tea leaves and hot water. Not too bitter, not too bland. Steeped to perfection. As much as he wanted to just relax and enjoy his cup, he had a job to do first.

Ghost took small sips, timing his drinking with the men in front of him. He had to be patient for this, something he learned from you. When the waiter came back over to notify him that breakfast was on its way, Simon took his time finishing off his tea. Finally, the men stood up to leave, just now finishing their meal. That was his cue to finish the job.

Simon was swift, catching up to them and bumping in between them as if he was in a rush. During his passing, he did some sleight of hand, attaching the trackers right on the bottom back of their jackets. Hopefully, they won't notice it anytime soon. The men shouted at him, offended that he would push them to get through. He just turned slightly and gave quick apologies, keeping up with his appearance of being in a rush.

Once he gained enough distance, he spoke into his earpiece. “Heading back now. The trackers are planted.”

“Loud and clear, Lt. Those trackers are shining like a beacon on my screen. Good work.” Soap praised.

When Ghost entered the roomette once again, his eyes immediately met yours. You sat alone in your row. Price, Gaz, and Soap sat opposite of you. Price wore the same exact expression you wore. Heavy. Dark. He took the empty space next to you, preparing himself for the worst. “I take it that whatever happened in the luggage cart wasn’t great.”

Price looked at you and you looked at him, both wondering if the other wanted to be the one to break the news. Finally, Price spoke up, using his captain's voice to disguise his true feelings of anger. “We found the right luggage and tagged them with the trackers. However, inside were not standard weapons that we are used to. Inside the luggage were 3D printed gun parts. Ghost guns, as Hex identified. The parts were made using 3D printers, meaning that they can’t be traced, registered, or tracked. Not without extreme difficulty. The parts are useless on their own, but when put together, then they function as normal, deadly weapons. Just like real gun parts.”

“Wait, so there is no brand? No markings at all?” Soap questioned, trying to wrap his head around the concept. He was kept in the dark about this issue too. They all were.

This time, you spoke up. “Completely clean. At a glance, they can actually look like toys. There are no serial numbers, no background checks, nothing. Makarov hasn’t just been buying his weapons. He’s been making them.”

Kyle took a shaky breath, the concept stunning him. Still, he wanted to take action. “Is there anything we can do about this? Besides killing Makarov?”

You shrugged, not really having a concrete answer for that question. “Confiscate the parts and present them as evidence to support stricter laws on them. That’s about all that can be done. This is a federal government problem. We should focus on ours in the meantime. There’s a lot on the line with each new discovery.”

The team went quiet, digesting the information. A knock on their door lightened the mood however, breakfast finally arriving. A cart with a white tablecloth over it presented a variety of choices. You waited for the men to serve themselves, watching them take heaping piles of eggs, breakfast meats, toast, and fruit. They needed a lot more food than you did. Still, they made sure to leave plenty left for you as well.

Simon watched you eat from the corner of his eye, wondering if you were able to have such a spread back home. You had mentioned how you ensured that your kitchen was stocked before back on the road trip. It still must’ve been difficult obtaining certain things on a regular basis. Eggs only lasted for so long. So did milk.

A new instinct came over him. He felt the need to feed you. To ensure that you were able to eat all and any of the foods you wanted. Especially the kinds that you couldn’t have often. On the sly, he began sneaking more food onto your plate. A scoop of eggs here. A strip of bacon there. He refilled your juice as well. Only when his teammates weren’t paying attention.

You, on the other hand, caught on quick as lightning. It wasn’t hard to notice how after you finished what was on your plate, another small pile would be sitting in its place. This was different from how he paid attention to you before. It felt like he was treating you like his girlfriend. It made your heart race and your stomach flip. You recalled how he called you “kitten” earlier too, the memory still making you feel like your cheeks would catch on fire with how warm they would get.

It wasn’t helping you make sure that your feelings for him were kept in check. You had to start rejecting him. Starting with the food he kept trying to feed you.

When you finished your fruit, Simon began putting a few more pieces onto your plate. As soon as they slipped from his fork, you moved them back over to his plate instead. The large basket of pastries in front of you both blocked the view of the rest of the men, having no idea that you two were engaging in your own little food fight.

Ghost pulled up his mask and frowned behind it, giving you the hint that he was done eating. You gave him a look that said that you were done eating too. However, he ignored it and put the fruit back on your plate, gesturing for you to take a few more bites. In retaliation, you took up your plate to put it on top of his empty one. Simon glared at you, cursing your stubbornness in his mind. Slowly, he lifted the plate back up and set it down in front of you, not breaking his eye contact.

Before you could push the plate away again, his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. You yelped, jumping up in your seat. You knee hit the table, causing the items on top of it to clatter. Now, all eyes were on you. God, you wanted to ring his fucking neck.

You cleared your throat, cheeks starting to turn red from embarrassment. “Sorry, sudden cramp. I’m heading to the bathroom.”

Ghost was practically pushed out of the booth to make room for you to leave. Once you had enough space, you slipped by and left the roomette. Brows quirked at Simon, wondering what the hell that just was. He shrugged, pretending that he didn’t know what the problem was. “Beats me. I’m gonna go order some more tea for the table.”

In the small train bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to cool down the blood rush. You could swear that you still felt the heat of his hand on your thigh. The pressure of his squeeze too. Was this what falling in love was like? Craziness? You felt like he was driving you mad.

Trying to calm down, you took some deep breaths. The sound of the water rushing out of the faucet helped. Gave you something to focus on for a moment.

That moment was gone as soon as you heard familiar, heavy footsteps outside the door. You cracked it open just a peek, just in time to see Ghost waltzing by without a care in the world. Without even thinking, you grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him into the bathroom with you. The door was closed and locked behind you, hoping no one would come in to see why you were blowing up.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! What the hell was that shit?!” You seethed through clenched teeth.

Ghost, getting over his momentary stun from being pulled, shook his head. “I didn’t think you would jump.”

You laid on the sarcasm thick. “Oh! You didn’t know that you grabbing my fucking thigh would make me jump. Hell, it’s not like my reflexes aim to kill anyone who suddenly grabs me. Your fucking bad, am I right, Simon?”

“Christ, I fucking get it! I’m sorry, okay, kitten?” He begrudgingly apologized, seeing just how upset you were about this.

“And that’s the other fucking problem! Kitten?! Fucking, kitten?! Are you trying to fucking kill me? Are you trying to make me fucking kill you?! You said that we would take things slow!” You raved, your swearing out of control at this point. Somehow, Simon still found it strikingly sexy.

“I am taking it slow.” He argued, taking a step closer to you, attempting to reach out to touch you like he wanted.

You scoffed and smacked his hand away. “You call that fucking slow? Simon, there is so much happening right now! You haven’t given me space to-”

Shit, you almost spilled the beans. You quickly shut your mouth, locking your lips tight with your secret. No way. No way in hell were you going to confess like that by accident.

Ghost noticed how you cut yourself off, his curiosity about what you were going to say taking over his prerogative. What secret were you hiding from him now? “Finish that sentence.”

“Pass.” You simply said, backing up away from him, your body starting to go into a panic. The fact that you could see most of his face as clear as day wasn’t doing wonders for you either. You actually wanted to kiss him, run your fingers through his hair, and nibble on his lips. A shutter passed through you at the thought.

His movements were quick, knowing that if he wasn’t fast, you could potentially escape him. Stepping forward, he pinned you against the wall, an arm slipped behind your back with the hand touching your waist. The other hand took your wrists and pinned them above your head. His deep timbre voice nearly had your knees buckling. “That wasn’t a question. That was an order, kitten.”

You gave him a combative glare, refusing to break your stand on this. As you shook his head in refusal, his face inched closer. “Please, Hex. Don’t make me break my promise again.”

“I. . .” You hesitated. Was now really the best time to confess? Probably not. It was actually probably the worst time. The way he begged and threatened you for it, however, was hard to resist. Even if your morbid curiosity made you wonder just what he would do to you if you kept your mouth shut.

He gave you a moment, the warms of your skin seeping into his. Ghost just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, no matter how hard he tried. It was like he had become addicted to you. Your touch, your attention, your voice, everything. He couldn’t get enough.

Finally, you broke. You just couldn’t take the way Simon’s blue eyes drowned you for an answer. “You haven’t given me the space to sort out my feelings.”

“Feelings?” His grip loosened, allowing you to take your arms to cross over your chest, feeling protective of yourself. Your nails dug into your skin as anxiety began to hold you tight. You couldn’t take his wide-eyed shock either.

To be fair, this was an answer that he didn’t expect to hear from you.

“Feelings.” He repeated, still hardly believing that that’s what you had said. His heart pounded in his chest.

You pushed him back by his chest, creating more space. That made his stomach drop like a bowling ball as he stepped back. Simon watched you nervously rubbed your arms. You gave a nervous laugh. “Jesus, what am I? A fucking teenager?”

“Hex-” He tried to call out for you, wanting to provide some comfort to your anxiety. However, you cut him off.

“Stop. Let me speak, Simon. You drive me fucking nuts. You know how to push my buttons, get my fire going, get my blood boiling. And yet, I still find myself thinking about you even when I don’t want to. I want to push you away as far as I can and pull you close to me at the same time. I love and hate how you tease me, how you kissed me, how you wanted me.” You confessed earnestly, your words coming out like a storm.

You’ve never confessed to anyone like this before. Not even in high school. Sure, you had small crushes here and there. You knew they would never go anywhere, though. You’ve always stomped them out before crushes turned into anything more. With Simon, it was different. It was like you were caught in barbed wire. You were tangled up in him. You loved it, yet you didn’t want your heart to get broken.

Feeling physical attraction wasn’t the same as emotional attraction.

“Simon, I’m afraid that I’m falling for you. I can’t have you breaking my heart. So, you need to tell me now if this is just a fling for you. Tell me that you don’t feel anything but physical attraction. That once our mission is over, you will go back to your world. I will go back to mine. We will never see each other again.” Your voice cracked as you steeled yourself for rejection.

The words broke Ghost’s heart. All this time, you believed that he was just toying with you. Just like you, however, he was both trying to get closer and keep just enough distance so you wouldn’t break his heart. As much as you two fought, you two were so much alike. From this new perspective that Simon has discovered, he was able to really understand you. God damn it, why didn’t he realize this sooner? He already fell for you. Hard. The way he wants to treat you, the way he wants to touch you, the way he never wants to say goodbye wasn’t something he would do with just a fling. It was something he would do with a lover.

“Hex. . . I can’t say any of those things.” He began taking small steps to approach you again. Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It’s been forever since he’s fallen for someone. His previous love was nothing compared to how he felt about you. There was a gut feeling he had that you were a keeper.

Your mind protested his advance, still trying to preserve your feelings. Your heart, on the other hand, went wild. In the end, it was the heart that won. His hands cupped your cheeks, gaining your line of sight once again. “It’s okay, Hex. I got ahead of myself. I started treating you how I wanted you before telling you. All out of order.”

You waited for him to say more, holding your breath as you did so. Was this really what you thought it was? No way this could be real. Just a few weeks ago, you were alone in the world. No one but Kate on the rare occasion. The plan was to stay alone, do solo missions here and there if Kate needed it, and die alone. Simon put a wrench in all of it.

“I’ve fallen for you, Hex. Probably did when I first saw you. You’re not alone anymore.” He reassured. At the same time, he was telling himself those words. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had you now.

While his own confession made you want to dance with joy, you still felt a pain in your chest. There was something that you couldn’t ignore. “That’s great and all, but what happens when I have to return to my world? Being unknown? I don’t exist. I can’t just return to the land of the living like I’ve been there the whole time. I-”

He stopped your rambling with a kiss. A deep, passionate, slow one that made your brain have an error. You didn’t even notice him pulling down his face mask before with how rampant your head ran. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, just be mine, okay?”

You released a deep sigh as you nodded in agreement. You could hardly believe it. Simon had fallen for you. You had fallen for him. No wonder he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. “Fine. Just. . . easy with the touching and the nickname, yeah? I about damn near lost my fucking mind.”

He chuckled, pulling his mask back up. “Can’t make any promises about that, kitten. I’ll try to stay patient with taking the touching further than previously agreed on. You’ve probably noticed, though, that you also drive me crazy.”

Returning to your usual self, you scoffed and smirked. “Keep it in your pants, Simon. I can’t help that I’m irresistible apparently.”

“You keep it in your pants. I know you want to touch me too.” He argued teasingly, taking your hands and putting them on this muscular chest. Once they were placed, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. It felt like your hands were on fire as they made contact with his chest. The chest that you have been wanting to put your hands on since seeing it bare the other night. He could feel the fire from your touch too.

“Simon.” You warned, your tone having some bite to it. However, he was used to your venom by now. He was growing immune. Now, your threatening tone just made him feel aroused.

He gave a low laugh at your glare, hugging you tighter and trying to ignore the growing tightness of his pants. You really got him going in the smallest of ways. “Relax, Hex. Just a hug.”

“You’re getting hard!” You pointed out, feeling his erection press against you. As much as you protested his arousal, you would be lying if you weren’t feeling it too. Just feeling him pressed against you had your skin tingling and your sex getting wet.

Finally, he let you go, your skin already feeling cold once he pulled away. You could see his eyes smiling, feeling quite proud of himself instead of embarrassed. Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him in order to leave the bathroom. “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

He followed you out. Thankfully, no one has been waiting to use the bathroom right outside. His tone was still low and sensual as he retorted. “You love it.”

There was still some time before arrival. Even more time before the mission would be over. Fuck, how were you going to resist Ghost’s antics now?

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hangmanbrainrot · 1 year

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more than this

a/n: HI. Me again! After talking with @rosiahills22, I simply HAD to give this idea a whirl. I hope y’all enjoy! Reader’s callsign is Van Gogh (to be explained) and I don’t use Y/N. :) special thanks to @bradshawsbitch for the encouragement. :’)

warnings: so much mutual pining, dash of angst toward the end. Generally, all my posts are 18+ because I don’t want minors interacting with my page! Probably naval inaccuracies.

word count: 3975

summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years now… Why mess with a good thing?

pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader — callsign: Van Gogh

“Vee, you aren’t seriously wearing that to Family Day.”

You glanced down at your striped sleep pants and faded Navy t-shirt, then whirled around to look up at the oh so familiar source of the question. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, in the flesh. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt, jeans, and black leather-banded watch on his wrist. His signature toothpick was missing from its usual post between his lips.

“You clean up nice,” you retorted, ignoring his initial remark. “And I thought we agreed, no call signs today.”

You ‘tsk’ed at him and turned back toward your laundry basket, then bending to pick it up and hold it at your hip.

“You have one of the coolest callsigns, besides mine, of course. What’s wrong with Van Gogh?”

“I got it because I dropped my books and everyone saw all the doodles in the margins of my notes. And it doesn’t even make sense, because Van Gogh was a painter. At least yours has a cool story, I mean—”

He said your name, low and sweet, to cut you off. The two of you weren’t about to rehash that story again.

“Better.” This earned you a smile. “I told you, I’m not going this year. I’m just gonna hang out here, take advantage of the empty lounge, and chill.”

“And I told you, my mother demanded to see you. In fact, I’d dare say she’s more excited to see you than she is to see me.”

“Can you blame Mrs. Seresin for having taste?” you replied easily, the teasing lilt to your voice unmistakable as you flashed Jake a megawatt smile.

“I’m absolutely telling on you, when I see her. ‘Mrs. Seresin’ instead of Sandy, as requested.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you shot back, mock horror covering your features.

“Can, could, and would. Get dressed, Vee. Families will be here before you know it!”

The way that Jake departed after speaking let you know it wasn’t up for debate.

———————————————————————————————————

You heard Jamie and Courtney before you saw them, their familiar, slightly shrill voices carrying over the crowd of people all waiting for their own aviator to make an appearance. Jake’s older and younger sisters had always treated you like the additional sibling they’d never had, but on a day like today, it made your heart ache. You knew, of course, not everyone was lucky enough to find a kind family to adopt them the way the Seresins had adopted you. Even Robert Seresin himself — gruff as he was, he had a you-sized soft spot, much like his son. Though good luck getting either of the Seresin men to admit it.

You smiled as you spun on your heel, ready to retreat. Content to revel in the knowledge that you were loved, but too heavy-hearted to witness it today. You’d beat Jake here, somehow, so maybe you could slip out without his notice, either. Come up with some feeble story about suddenly coming down with a migraine, and nurse your ache alone, with your mounds of freshly laundered clothing, once you were sure he and his family had departed for the day.

But instead of proceeding forward, you collided with navy cotton and ginger and leather and… Jake. Had he always smelled this good?

“Hi, I was just,” you pushed out, before being interrupted. Why were you so nervous, all of a sudden? It was just Jake.

“Trying to ditch me. Darlin’, my feelings are hurt.” The tips of your ears burned red with embarrassment, even as your stomach did backflips over the way his accent thickened on the word ‘darlin’.’

“Sorry, Jake.” You didn’t even have the wherewithal to hide the giggle leaking into your words. But you were smart enough to play it off. “I was just going to get a jacket.”

“Vee, it’s July.”

“Yes, I do have a calendar and I can read!” Your eye roll was practically involuntary. “I just get cold sometimes in the AC.”

A lopsided grin slid onto his features while he aimed a pointer finger at himself. “Human furnace. Let’s go!”

Before you could protest, he was slinging an arm around your shoulders and all but crushing you into his side. “I think this outfit is much more appropriate for a trip off base.” It sounded like he was testing the compliment. And, truthfully, you liked this particular combination of white cap-sleeve blouse and jeans quite a bit yourself, too. But it was nice of him to notice. Then again, you couldn’t recall a time when Jake hadn’t noticed you, not since the beginning of your friendship. He was just always so checked in with you. Always so present. If you squinted, you could call it attentiveness.

“Jacob Michael Seresin, it is rude to keep your mother waiting! And where is — there she is, there’s my girl.”

Before either of you could inhale, a head of blond hair identical to Jake’s came bounding toward you, Sandra Seresin bundling you up in her arms like she hadn’t seen you in years, rather than the months it had been since the last time she had seen you via FaceTime.

You hugged Sandy a little tighter, as if you were afraid you would disappear if you let go. If it weren't for this woman and her family, holding onto you — in more ways than one — you often feared no one would remember you at all. No one to be on the receiving end of a phone call or a folded flag, if you didn't make it home one day. You would just… cease to exist. Quietly. Perhaps that was fitting, considering that was exactly how you lived your life.

You were your parents' only child, and they were gone. Well, your father was, anyway. Your mother never recovered after his sudden death, and had taken to self-medicating to ease the pain of his loss. Which, sure, you got, once you were old enough, but you were still small and new to the world, when the light that was your father went out. No one is ready to lose a parent they're close to, but certainly not when they're five. And it felt like you'd lost her, too, by the time you were 10. Moved out by the time you were 16. So, she wasn't gone, but there was no relationship to be had. You knew, of course, that if something did happen to you, they'd find her. But who would she be mourning? You had lived a whole life she knew nothing about; you had become an entirely new person. Someone she knew nothing about, but that the Seresins knew like the backs of their hands. Courtney was filling your hands with your favorite candy on the walk to the parking lot, and Jamie's kids were telling you about how they were doing in school.

Maybe someone, maybe a few someones would remember you. And fondly, you hoped.

At the height of the day, the sun was relentless, but as you walked beside Jake in the parking lot, you couldn't help noticing it made his hair the perfect shade of blond, and rendered his eyes the color of sea-glass.

"You know they just missed you," he chirped, misreading your expression and mistaking your melancholy for annoyance.

"No, no," you said softly. "It's nice to be missed. I just.."

"Today is hard," he finished your sentence matter-of-factly, and without any sort of air of pity. You heard, in its place, respect. He had no idea how you felt, but he'd always left space in your friendship for you to feel it. And, in true Jake fashion, he'd tried to fix it, by introducing you to his family, all those years ago, now. You'd only known each other a few months, then. But he didn't want you to be alone. And, the truth was, you hadn't been. Not since the moment you met him. All you ever felt when you were with Jake was ease. Comfort.

Your hand found Jake’s without thinking, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re my best friend, Jake. And I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you tell anyone how soft I got.”

You glanced over at Jake just in time to watch an unreadable emotion cloud his expression. Before you had time to think it over, he was squeezing your hand. “I’ll always keep all your secrets, Vee. Including that you prefer green Jolly Ranchers, even though blue are clearly superior.”

—————

The Seresins took you and Jake to a small diner off base, and it was today that you learned it was Jake’s favorite. You all sat in a booth toward the back, bunched up together in the cushioned semi-circle bench. Jake’s warm thigh brushed against yours, and you’d be lying if you didn’t notice the jolt that went through you, every time those thick cords of muscle pressed against you when he laughed, or when he reached forward to grasp one of the menus wedged between the matching salt and pepper shakers on the table.

With an arm lazily draped on the booth behind you, fingers loosely grazing your shoulder every so soften, Jake opened a menu for you to share.

“Well, what do you think, darlin’?”

“How did I not know this was your favorite place?” You asked, ignoring the question he was obviously asking you.

But he indulged you. “This was the first year I actually convinced you to come with us.”

“Convinced? I felt slightly bullied, Seresin.” You grinned, in spite of yourself.

“Forgive me for wanting to spend a little time with you, darlin’.” He sounded almost coy. You glanced up at him, at the same time he looked over at you, and found that ‘butterflies’ were an understatement for what that look was currently doing to your insides. It felt like a cross between adoration and desire, but what was even wilder was that Jake’s expression seemed to mirror your own — which was absurd because it was Jake. Jake, who always made sure you never got left behind; Jake, who sometimes pulled his punches with you when he was ragging on you over the comms. Yeah, that Jake, your Jake was looking at you like… that?

But then you heard Jake’s dad clear his throat from across the table and you and Jake glanced up like you’d been caught doing something far less innocuous. Your mind worked overtime trying to decipher what just happened here but the moment flickered and burnt out before you, and the conversation moved on like a film unpaused.

Despite the fact that his entire family was here, it felt like Jake couldn’t bear to take his eyes off you for a moment, not that you were complaining. And it was something his mother noticed, too.

“So, between the two of you, who do you think is the better pilot?” Courtney teased, a mischievous glint visible in the hazel of her irises.

But then Jake said your name at the same time you said his, causing you both to turn to each other in surprise, mouths agape.

“Stop being modest,” he accused, almost immediately. Part of you wanted to make special note of this moment, record it somehow. So that the next time Jake decided to have a pissing contest with some other pilot, you could chime in and remind him it didn’t matter, since he thought you were the best anyway. You went to shove at his chest, but your hand — and your heart — stuttered with you made contact. He was so solid. Just firm muscle and warm skin. When your gaze dared drift upward, he was blushing. Your comment, voicing the observation, would die on your lips, as your server returned to the table with a tray full of milkshakes. Leave it to Jamie to secure dessert when you weren’t looking.

—————

When the meal had run its course and everyone was preparing for the trip back to base, you couldn’t help but hang back a little bit, just to take it all in. Jake was indulging Courtney in one of those rare, long bear hugs, while Jamie and his mother ran off to the bathroom, and his dad made small talk with another patron seated at the diner’s counter. In spite of your resistance, this family had yanked you, kicking and screaming, into their lives. Whether you’d found them or they’d found you didn’t matter, what mattered was the moment unfolding before you. You wished you could wrap it around you and let it warm you from the inside out.

You weren’t sure when Jake had released Courtney to return to your side, or when the rest of his family had filtered out the diner’s front doors, so you jumped when you heard his voice from beside you.

“You okay, sugar?” He was close enough that you could smell the tang of his cologne — softer than before, but still present — and feel the body heat rolling off of him in waves. You practically ached with the desire to move, to be touching him in some way, and the ferocious way this feeling roared to life within you startled you. Instead of giving in to that yearning to touch, you spun around and put some distance between you, eyes trained on him. You were desperate to find out what had changed, but when you gazed into Jake’s eyes. You just saw him, you just felt him. Nothing else had changed. But maybe nothing had needed to. High stakes situations meant you were constantly filtering out your emotions: keep, alter, discard; keep, alter, discard. You rifled through feelings often before you took a breath. It felt silly to question whether or not you’d simply overlooked or ignored your feelings for your best friend all along, but what else could be true? It wasn’t the way you felt about him that was new; no, it was the sudden impulse to do something about it that felt like an unscratchable itch.

You took a nearly imperceptible step closer, and Jake mirrored your actions. He said your name softly, cautiously.

But then, from behind: “Hey, is everybody else outside?”

Jamie’s voice was like cold water to the face. Still, you nodded, regaining the distance between yourself and Jake. You blinked a few times, as if you were hitting some sort of invisible reset button in your mind.

Keep, alter, discard.

You were silent, the entire ride back to base. You went through the motions of ‘see-you-next-time’’s and ‘take-care’’s, and stood in the parking lot until Robert’s truck was completely out of view.

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled, without looking up at Jake, then spinning on your heels to head back inside. There was still enough of the day that you could get your laundry done if you headed straight in and got to work, you just had to —

Jake’s hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your skin was tingling where his fingers were wrapped around you. Jaw set, you clenched, mouth forming a straight line. You were back on base now; you were back to being naval aviators. There wasn’t any room for these silly little schoolgirl feelings Jake inspired in you. You didn’t get to twirl your hair and bat your eyelashes and fall head over heels for your best friend. Instead, you got to linger somewhere painfully between ‘duty bound’ and ‘already in over your head.’

“What is it, Jake?” You hadn’t yet turned to face him, and that was an offense he didn’t take lightly to; though instead of waiting for you to rectify the situation, he does so himself. It was so very like him.

“Look at me, please.” The raw edge to his voice startled you into compliance.

You turned and regretted it immediately.

“What did I do?” His eyes were so soft, so entirely unguarded. A fear you didn’t recognize was plain on his face. “How can I fix it?”

“It’s nothing, Jake.”

But he was not convinced by your sighed syllables. “That’s bullshit.” Even the way he spoke was gentle, like he was afraid you’d evaporate from the sheer force of his words if he spoke too loudly.

“Something changed, after lunch, something… Something happened,” he continued. “Did Jamie say something to you? Court?”

A short burst of laughter punched out of you, but it sounded colder than you imagined, and Jake stepped back like you’d slapped him. Fear was replaced by irritation. You recognized that particular crease in his brow, but you resolved that this was good. Maybe he needed to hate you a little, so you could get over whatever was most definitely not happening here.

“What?” You laughed again, though this time it sounded more forced than before. “Did you expect me to go all weak-kneed because you saved me, Jake? Showed me what a real family was like? Would you like me to grovel with gratitude now, or can I save that for later?”

And you regretted the words the moment you said them, instantly spiraling. It was vicious and careless, but a low enough blow that it would end things — it would fix things, once and for all. But then that feeling from earlier returned, that burning at the back of your throat and the sting in your eyes. You understood now that what you were feeling was loss; you were preparing for the loss of your best friend. Prematurely, perhaps, but if you knew Jake at all, you knew it wasn’t that premature. He let the others think he was a jerk and a blowhard but, to you, he admitted to the real softness of his heart. The purity of it. It was you he sat beside, shaking with worry after Phoenix and Bob went down after a bird strike. You, he called when his niece got a case of the flu so bad she was hospitalized and he couldn’t see her. You, he pleaded with for help when he’d mouthed off too much in class and was pretty sure everyone hated him now. You knew everything he did was so startlingly fucking earnest. To question how genuine he was, to question his integrity, was the kind of wound that could only be delivered intimately. And you had done it so very well. A real stab and twist.

You mumbled an apology, just desperate to escape Jake and that angry, but somehow still pleading look in his eyes. It was when your back was turned that Jake finally spoke.

“God, I have to be so fucking stupid.”

“Jake, don’t,” you said, stilled but not turning back around. Your pride wouldn’t let him see you cry.

“No, I must be. I must be a complete fucking idiot to have misread all the signs that you… That we want the same thing.”

You didn’t dare speak at first; you couldn’t. And then, when you did, the ragged nature of your breathing startled even you. “And what is it that you think we both want?”

“More than this, Vee!” He sounded exasperated, and you didn’t need to face him to know that Jake had run a frustrated hand through his hair. “More than tiptoeing around each other and how we feel about each other, and trying to pretend like, like…”

“Trying to pretend like what?” The words ripped out of you like a sob and you couldn’t will yourself to be still anymore. Your body angled toward his like you were fucking magnetized.

“Trying to pretend like I am not in love with you.”

The words landed like lead around you, and you had to bite back a sob. When that wasn’t enough to muffle the sound, you slapped a palm to your mouth.

He had done it. He had taken that big thing, wrestled it into submission, and then laid it bare in front of you. But, more than that, he’d laid himself bare in front of you. He was more naked now than he’d ever been in any locker room. This was Jake at his most honest.

And you could feel yourself teetering so dangerously on the edge of giving in. Your breaths heaved in and out of you with great effort.

What if you ruined this? What if he left you? What if, what if, what if…

God, but what if you didn’t? What if, for once, something just fucking worked out, and someone just stayed? If there was anyone in your life who was capable of staying, wouldn’t it be Jake? Who else could it be?

Your resolve was so thin, so fragile; when you finally spoke, it was: “Jake, I’m scared.”

He took a step toward you. He could’ve closed the gap between your bodies in a singular stride, but he was giving you an out. One last chance to walk away. You remained anchored to your spot on the pavement. When he took the final step toward you, he had a palm raised to frame your face — he was shaking, but he rested his forehead against yours, too. And that was Jake, in a nutshell. Scared, but pushing forward. It was one of the things you admired, one of the things you loved most about him.

“Don’t be scared, Vee.” The plea was soft, softer than a prayer. “Don’t be scared. Whatever there is to figure out, we’ll figure it out together. We can make this work.”

“And if we can’t?”

“We’ll figure that out together, too.”

Even as your every survival instinct was telling you not to, even as all you wanted to do was run, you leaned in. The kiss was a little clumsy — he hadn’t been ready, you were too nervous. But then your hand found purchase against his chest, and one of his at your hip. And then you were practically tugging each other closer; your lips fitting together more seamlessly. How had you held out this long? How had you deprived yourself of this?

Jake retracted, eyes wild and bright when he looked at you. As his lips sloped into a grin, you knew something was coming.

“Ma’am, I’m not sure if you heard me, but…”

“Oh, you mean your little love confession?” you reveled in the flush that crept up his neck and the laugh that fled your now kiss-swollen lips as a result.

Though realization seemed to darken his expression, and his eyes left yours. The loss was one you felt immediately.

“What?”

Jake must have felt the tension begin to seep into your body, because his thumb began to press slow, soothing circles against your hip.

“Vee, I know you don’t need me to save you. You have never needed to be saved by anyone.” His brow furrowed a moment, and the hand still cradling your face dropped to meet the other at your hips. “But if you want to be… If you want someone else to help you carry all that weight on your shoulders. Well, that would be okay, too, alright?”

You weren’t certain, but when Jake met your gaze once again, you were almost positive there were tears welling in his eyes. The sight of his vulnerability rendered you speechless, so you nodded mutely, then managed a small ‘okay.’ It was instinctive for you to rest your forehead against Jake’s chest and allow his arms to envelope you in his embrace. More so than ever before.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been standing there when you finally spoke up again. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I love you.”

He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. Instead, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and tightened his arms around you. And maybe, just maybe, you thought… this wouldn’t be so bad. Whether it was 20 minutes or 20 years, you wanted as much of Jake as he was willing and able to give.

Keep, alter, discard? You were definitely keeping this feeling.

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