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cleoluvrr · 2 months

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notice me (rafe cameron x reader)

scribble x's and o's in my notebook, checking how my hair and my nails look.

warnings: obsessive reader(she's delusional </3), explicit sexual content, unhealthy behavior, slight age gap

masterlist

your panties were soaking, the arousal leaking from your clothed slit creating a mess of the fabric. it clung to your skin uncomfortably, folds visible through the ruined undergarments. you wanted to rip them off, but rafe held them flush to your pussy as he licked a wet stripe over the drenched cotton.

he stared up at you from his position, blue eyes glowing with mischief as took in your impatient whines. his actions did nothing to solve your frustration. the barrier between his wet mouth and your throbbing cunt was only making you more desperate as the minutes ticked by. his fingers drawing circles over your swollen clit made your hips grind into his touch, the friction of the panties against the bud doing little to satisfy you.

“r-rafe, please…” a broken plea for him to end his incessant teasing left your throat involuntarily. your pussy had taken over your brain function, whatever clear thoughts you had now replaced with a primal need you’d never felt before.

"calm down," he murmurs, his tone tender and soothing. your knees were forced far apart, kept completely at his mercy each time he leaned in to attach himself to your pussy. “just enjoy it…”

you were tempted to push him away, but the hand you placed on the top of his head only pulled him in closer as you bucked your hips into his face. the texture of his tongue and the rough fabric in combination against your swollen lips was far too intense for you to handle, and yet, you still wanted more–needed more.

“y/n…” his voice was muffled below you, barely audible over your heavy breathing and the blood rushing through your ears. “y/n…” your mind was still in a distant place, thighs squeezing tightly around the sides of the blond’s head as he lapped up the arousal leaking through your panties.

“y/n!”

rafe’s voice was clear as day, the fogginess of your brain dissipated as your friend’s older brother stared at you in annoyance. your eyes widened in realization before blinking away the lusty haze that coated them. heat traveled up your chest rapidly to reach the soft flesh of your cheeks. swallowing dryly, you hummed in response, not trusting yourself to use your real voice.

“jesus, kid, what’s your problem? you can’t hear?”

“sorry, i was…” you blinked at the man on the other side of the kitchen island, his cold eyes leaving a trail of goosebumps over your arms. “sorry..w-what’d you say?”

the years-long crush you had on your best friend’s older brother only increased tenfold the longer you two were in proximity to each other. you thought that it would go away after freshman year of high school, but you were far from correct. your first year at college had just ended, months filled with new parties, new faces, and new boys to become attached to.

you were certain that you’d get over rafe this time, and yet, here you were. home for the summer and daydreaming about…things you’d never say aloud.

it was hard not to. no matter how many times you told yourself it was wrong, you just couldn't help but let your mind drift when he was around. the smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and the way he carried himself made your thighs squeeze together instinctively.

he was just so...rafe.

rubbing his eyes frustratedly, he sighs. rafe was never one to have patience for anyone and it was clear to you that he was running low from interacting with a barely-there you. while the oldest cameron always had a bit of a soft spot for you, it still didn’t take much to push his buttons.

“i said get out, my friends are coming. i don’t want you around them.” rafe says firmly. he leans against the kitchen counter, eyes no longer boring into you as they were a few seconds ago. his fingers tap rhythmically against his phone screen, presumably texting the friends that were supposed to appear sooner or later. when you don’t move from your spot by the kitchen’s island, his head pulls up to meet your puzzled gaze once again. “you didn’t hear me? leave.”

your brows knit together lightly in confusion. rafe had never taken issue with you being around his friends before. granted, you’d never been around them alone. sarah had always been there, and it was never on purpose. any time you were around when his friends came over, rafe would never really give time for them to speak to you before pulling them away. kelce and topper were nice enough from what you’d experienced with the two of them, so you couldn’t understand what the issue would be.

sarah stepped out with ward for something a while ago, leaving you all by yourself in the house with rafe until the two of them returned. you stood from your seat on the barstool to make your exit but stopped before you could get too far. facing him again, you opened your mouth to speak.

“why?” you asked the older blonde curiously. his eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but that didn’t deter you from questioning the order. “do they not like me?” ‘do you not like me?’ is what you really wanted to say, but you bit your tongue to refrain from it. you were too scared of what the answer might be.

rafe chuckled dryly as he shook his head at you, hand reaching up to comb through his golden locks. pushing off the counter, he walked around to meet you where you stood. the way he stared down at you left you feeling a bit startled, the pair of heavy blue eyes drinking in every inch of your frame indiscriminately. it was difficult for you to remain calm with him looming over you like that.

you nearly jump out of your skin when he places a hand on your shoulder and spins you around roughly. it caught you off guard but you didn’t stumble, instead you made a sound of protest at the sudden contact. you could feel the heat of his gaze against your back and if your face could get any hotter, it would. the puff of his warm breath against your ear is what made you jump, but rafe’s chest against your back made you freeze in place.

the feeling of his hand traveling down your shoulder blades, the dip of your back, and the curve where your waist meets your ass left your skin covered in goosebumps and the palms of your hands uncomfortably clammy.

you’d been hanging out with sarah for the three weeks that you’d been home, and each day you meticulously planned your outfits just in case rafe happened to be around. the oversized sweatshirts had been packed up in the back of your family’s garage and the breasts you’d been hiding since you got them were finally free of the skin tight sports bras you used to strapped them down all those years. the shortest skirts you owned were being put to work the entire summer until something came to fruition.

“do they not like me?” he repeats in a mocking tone. “kid–y/n…that’s not the problem.”

“rafe!” you exclaimed. the feel of his strong hand reaching under the hem of your skirt left you shocked, jaw slack with disbelief. you were worried about what he would find under there if he reached too far, the dampness of your panties enough to leave them sticking to your skin and able to expose you if he were to accidentally brush against them. “what are you doing?” your imagination had left you feeling indecent and hot, and you wished you would have left the room when you had the chance to spare yourself the embarrassment.

relief washed over you at the feeling of him tugging the fabric of your skirt down to cover as much of the exposed skin as the material would allow. you could hear him kiss his teeth as it barely covered the tops of your thighs, the fold of your ass almost visible anytime you weren’t standing completely still.

the sound of the front door opening filled your ears, topper and kelce’s loud voices traveling through the empty house as they called out for their friend.

“go upstairs. now.” rafe pushes you away roughly and you waste no time shuffling out of the room.

his eyes were glued to you until the moment you left, the feeling of his ocean blue orbs burned into your skin as your nike-clad feet padded against the old floorboards. your heart was beating firmly against the bones in your chest and you could still feel the way his warm hands were so close to somewhere they shouldn’t ever be, but where you wish they could stay forever.

when you reached sarah’s room on the upper floor of the mansion, you finally released the silent scream that you’d been holding in since rafe first walked into the kitchen.

you’d felt him watching you the entire time, his eyes raking over your frame as you stared down at your phone pretending that you couldn’t tell. you knew sarah had plans with her dad today but you insisted on coming over anyway, claiming that you didn’t want to miss a single day with her this summer. you knew rafe would be here too, because that was the first thing sarah warned you of before she left you alone with her brother.

you spent months–years–doing whatever it took to get his attention without completely throwing yourself at him like you so badly wanted to. the last thing you wanted was to come off as the desperate, embarrassing best friend, but you had to do something to stand out amongst all the other rich, pretty, older girls that flocked to him everywhere he went.

he was the kook prince, and you were just his little sister’s friend. it was hard for you to get him to see you any other way.

when you came home for summer break, you had a plan. your days were meticulously planned around him, which definitely sounded insane, but after years of pining you couldn’t find it in you to care.

the local goodwill took in all your old clothes during the winter to make room for your new wardrobe. you learned how to do your makeup, lost the contacts, and opted for consistent manicures rather than the brittle nubs for nails you had your entire childhood. months worth of confidence lessons on youtube, manifesting, and subtle flirting practice with the boys at your university were going to pay off this summer.

it had to.

the kid he was used to was gone. the nail biter with chunky black glasses, a stutter, and old band shirts had been banished and in her place was the improved version of you. the one that planned her outfits a day in advance, always had french tips, and could hold eye contact without stumbling over every word like it was her first. you walked with a sway in your hips and showed off parts of your body that nobody except sarah and yourself knew you had.

you refused to be the awkward, nerdy kid anymore. things had to be different this time–and they were.

when presented with the opportunity to be alone with rafe cameron, you took every measure possible to get his attention without begging on your hands and knees. for nearly a month you tried to be as lowkey as possible; pretending to not care if he was there or not, ignoring him completely when you two were in the same room, flirting with other guys when rafe was in hearing distance–whatever it took. it was tiring, but you couldn’t give up–not after all these years.

staring at yourself in the full body mirror propped against the sarah’s wall, you smiled and took a step closer to examine yourself. rafe finally saw you. he called you ‘kid,’ but he finally saw you as something more than that. you were finally one step closer to your silly little daydreams becoming reality.

“he noticed me…” you whispered to yourself.

he finally fucking noticed.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx1 #obx2 #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

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Yan!Parents Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Are these headcanons good? I don't know, but I hope you like it!! Forgive me for any mistakes ;) 🩵🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and murder, unhealthy platonic relationships and messy writing.

❝🐉pairing: platonic yandere!daemyra x gender neutral!reader.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were looking forward to the arrival of their first child. Daemon already had two daughters and Rhaenyra her three precious boys, but they were very eager for the first fruit of their marriage to be born.

The day Rhaenyra gave birth to you was one of the happiest memories of her life. The pain of childbirth was excruciating, but when she could hold you in her arms, it was all worth it.

Daemon actually sobbed when he held you for the first time. You were so small, so innocent and so perfect. He swore to himself that he would do anything to be good to you. You would be loved and adored forever.

They are both extremely overprotective and possessive over you. You are their child, you belong to them, so you should not associate with anyone they do not approve of.

Any friends you may have will be investigated by Daemon and if he finds anything that displeases him, that friend will disappear from your life. He is not objective, if that person's great-grandfather was an bastard, for example, that means they will never be good to you. And you deserve only the best.

Rhaenyra not only agrees with this, but encourages her uncle-husband's actions. You are her baby, the most precious person in her life and she only wants the best for you. She will give you the best, she knows what is good for you. After all, mom always knows best, right?

Your older siblings would also have developed their own obsession with you, encouraged by their parents. It didn't take long for the Velaryon brothers and Daemon's daughters to become completely attached to you.

You were not only your parents' obsession, but also your siblings, meaning you can bet no harm would be done to you. You were spoiled and protected, the apple of everyone's eye in Dragonstone.

Whatever you want, you will have. Rhaenyra and Daemon are completely soft when it comes to disciplining you, just one puppy look and they will forget everything. You are their child, you could do no wrong in their eyes.

Everyone is instructed to spoil and protect you, the servants, the guards and your brothers will do so willingly too.

Daemon is very possessive, he feels entitled to you because you are his child. He will kill anyone who looks, says, or even breathes wrong at you. There's no way he's going to let anything happen to you.

Rhaenyra is more controlled, but she is still a dragon and you should never mess with a dragon's offspring. She loses all her senses, her reason when something happens to you. Even if it's a paper cut, she will go into a frenzy of rage.

Any love interests or suitors will also be dealt with quickly. They won't allow you to get married, no one will ever be good enough for you.

If something were to happen to you, gods be good, for the true fury of the Targaryens would be revealed. They will burn, kill and destroy everything in their path for you. All that matters is you, the war will be forgotten by you.

And when it was just ashes and the smell of blood and death was in the air, they would be satisfied. Daemon and Rhaenyra will go to extremes for you. You are their baby and no one, absolutely no one, can change that.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will not lose anyone else, not their child. And when the war for the Iron Throne begins, you would be locked in and protected the entire time. Your parents love you and would do anything, but they don't know boundaries or privacy. It doesn't matter, after all, they are your parents.

#hotd #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yan!mom Rhaenyra targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yan!dad daemon targaryen #headcanons #yandere headcanons #x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere daemyra #yan!parents daemyra

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shima-draws · 4 months

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Okay so a few things about the ending to the DLC. Spoilers below obviously

-Really REALLY disappointed they didn’t go with the whole toxic possession arc thing with Kieran and the new mythical (Pecharunt?) TO BE FAIR that was more of a fan theory than anything but it was one that made a lot of sense and had a lot of evidence to back it up. I guess I got too attached to the idea and was inevitably let down when the game didn’t go in that direction. Still it would have made more sense to give that extra edge as to why Kieran’s treating everyone so awfully,, and having him finally break free of that control during the final fight VS Terapagos would have been SO sick. Either that or before we even get to Terapagos Carmine calls Kieran out and that’s when he finally fucking explodes and rages and vents about his inferiority complex—and THAT is what summons Pecharunt, those negative feelings that it probably feeds off of or smth idk. Then we’d get a split second of Kieran finally being back in control and begging for help. And then Carmine realizing her brother has been under the influence of this Pokemon the entire time and. Okay I’m getting off track into AU territory now lmao sorry moving on

-Switching back to the Terapagos fight, I really enjoyed it! It wasn’t too long of a fight to be drawn out, but it was just long enough that it didn’t feel anticlimactic (also the MUSIC? STELLAR. Pun intended). ALSO ARGHFHH the five stages of grief Kieran goes through in that fight to finally accepting that he’s been going about this the wrong way and has been an awful friend and the way the LIGHT COMES BACK INTO HIS EYES I ALMOST CRIED. This is 10000x more emotional and powerful if you choose to bring Ogerpon with you and fight with her bc that really just. Hammers in the fact that despite all the bad blood and bitterness, Kieran still chooses to fight alongside you and the Pokemon he coveted so much…AND he even processes things enough to fully let go of all his hatred and anger and allows you to catch Terapagos because he KNOWS you’ll take good care of it and after all this time he still trusts you even though he’d probably hate to admit it. #GOOD WRITING

-Something really scary I realized. Kieran brought a Master Ball with him to catch Terapagos. 1. Where did homie even get that. 2. The fact that he was READY and didn’t even give Terapagos a chance to react, that he was essentially catching it against its will (which probably led to its power going out of control), that he was enforcing his own twisted desires and beliefs onto it and not considering its feelings (sound familiar? Looks at Ogerpon). BOY. 3. We’ve only ever seen ONE other person use Master Balls in SV. The AI Professor. I don’t know if this is significant in any way but if the Pecharunt theory WAS true that would make them so so similar and that’s eerie to me. Two characters controlled by something greater than them that they can’t fight…can you imagine how INSANE the dynamics would be listen to me

-Another thing I was kinda disappointed about was Briar? I guess I was just picking up on the vibes that she was actually a villain and would try to steal Terapagos from the player, but I probably gave Nintendo too much credit on that one lol. I do like that she’s not inherently evil, she’s just too absorbed and obsessed with her research to really pay attention to what’s going on around her. BUT. They should have pushed that WAY further. Either commit and do the full villain arc where she snatches Terapagos from Kieran right after he catches it to use it for her own purposes, or pressure him into Terastallizing it so much that it makes him uncomfortable. I want to see Lusamine levels of unhinged obsession. What she had was just a little bit too excited about Area Zero, not a full blown unhealthy and dangerous thing that puts everyone around her in danger.

-Following up on that. Drayton. I kept expecting him to also go villain arc IDK LOL I guess I want everyone to be gay do crime in this DLC 😂 But I seriously kept thinking he was just using the player to knock Kieran off his thrown so he could take it right back from us. But no he actually genuinely cared about Kieran and kept pressuring us to beat the Elite Four so WE could knock some sense into him since Drayton wasn’t strong enough to do it himself. Which is a very sweet sentiment, I think :’) But am I the only one who was like bro calm down right after the fight where he was getting up in Kieran’s face and calling him ex-champion…..either he’s way too honest and doesn’t realize he was being cruel OR he was doing it on purpose to be a silly goober (but everyone else was like DUDE. LOW blow.)

-I still have questions. HELLO. HELLO. The notes in Area Zero mentioned the professor meeting a child with a white(?) book? Is that the Scarlet/Violet book? We still don’t know how the whole time travel paradox happened and why Heath talked about meeting Paradox Pokemon DECADES before the professor even brought them to Area Zero through the time machine? What is with the weird ass crystal tree sitting in the middle of a lake in the depths? Is there any significance to the Crystal Pool in Kitakami being connected to terastallizing and Area Zero? I’M JUST. AGHHH. I’m fairly certain we’re getting more content, maybe an epilogue to the DLCs but I’m going CRAZY I NEED TO KNOW NOWWW

-Also isn’t Area Zero like. Top secret hush hush. Why did Geeta let Briar publish a whole ass book about the HIDDEN SECRET of Area Zero that was miles under a closed off SECRET lab. I thought they were denying Briar access to Area Zero for YEARS, probably because they didn’t want her blabbing to the public. Idk. Maybe my memory is fuzzy on that one. Just feels very contradictory fhhdd

-The small little subtleties of Kieran regaining his regular personality as we went down….I ADORED that. His little smiles and him unable to contain his childish excitement and Carmine smiling at him with a knowing look bc after all this time her brother is FINALLY acting more like himself. And Kieran trying to brush it off like “wh-whatever” like he’s some sort of edgy teenager pretending he doesn’t care. GAHHHH it was so cute I wanted to cry 😭

ALL IN ALL it didn’t QUITE meet my expectations but it was still really good, especially considering this was all DLC content. Nothing will ever EVER top the main story of SV but the entirety of TTM and TID came pretty darn close. Kieran my sweet baby boy my blorbo I’m so glad you got your redemption arc and that you finally came to terms with your perception of strength and how it affects others. Baller DLC Nintendo do it again 👏

#Pokemon #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet #Pokemon SV #The Indigo Disk #Indigo Disk spoilers #Pokemon SV DLC #Pokemon Kieran #Kieran #Pokemon Briar #Pokemon Drayton #The Indigo Disk spoilers #Pecharunt #Long post #Shima speaks #Well there is always fanfiction. LOL

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

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Soft Spot - Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part thirteen of "soft spot"

taglist

someone's opening old wounds

warnings: mentions of misogynistic views against pregnant women, crude language, pretty chill overall.

wc: 5.3

There was a song Simon’s mother used to sing to him as a kid when he couldn’t sleep.

The words had gotten lost in his mind over the years, but the tune still stuck with him like it was imbued in his DNA. The notes were certainly intended to be sung by someone with a wider range than him, but the deep baritone of his humming still carried it well enough. A special kind of comforting somberness permeated the tune in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to convey to anyone. Not properly, anyway. It was the bittersweet nostalgia of his childhood, full of an inexplicable pain and grief, yet still brimming with longing.

However, like most days, Simon didn’t have the necessary time to dwell on the past, no matter how much that tune haunted him. If he got distracted and overcooked the eggs again, he knew he’d be paying for it later at work when you’d eventually bombard him with text after text requesting that he bring you something actually palatable. Really, he didn’t mind doting on you, even if he had to secretly do it at work, and he knew Johnny didn’t mind being his errand boy. But being away from you, even for a short period of time, made his skin crawl, like he was only ever at ease when you were within sight.

A part of him had always been that way; attached to you in some anxious and unhealthy way. It just grew more as your due date grew closer.

“You’re humming again.”

Simon brought his attention away from cooking in order to glance over his shoulder at you. Countless months had passed since the day you found out you were pregnant, since the day you both got a first look at the life that grew inside of you. That little blip on the screen was completely unrecognizable compared to the near full grown baby boy that had your stomach swelling like a water balloon. He would come any day by that point, which only concerned Simon further that you still chose to go to work despite it. Though, he knew it was pointless to try and convince you otherwise.

“You’re awake,” Simon countered, refusing to acknowledge his less than melodic humming.

“Hard not to be when your son is playing football with my bladder,” you chuckled.

With a hand on your stomach, you slowly crept into the living room where you plopped on the couch. Any sort of movement completely exhausted you those days. Standing, sitting, walking; it had all become a chore after your front had suddenly become so much heavier than the rest of your body. The prospect of birthing your son was nice when you thought about not having to carry around that extra weight anymore, yet it was terrifying when you fully remembered you would actually have to have him.

“We’ll sign him up for the little tykes when he’s old enough,” Simon humored as he turned the stove off.

“Good,” you hummed, “he’s gotta burn off all this energy somehow.”

With a plate in each hand, Simon sauntered off to the living room where he handed you your breakfast before sitting down next to you. Forks scraped against china as you both devoured your meals in the quiet stillness of the morning. The eggs went down easy, perfectly cooked just how you liked them, but once you got to the sausage and bacon, you took one sniff and nearly spewed.

“Christ,” you muttered as you scraped them onto Simon’s plate.

“Still?” he questioned.

“I guess,” you replied sourly.

In exchange, Simon gave you half of his remaining eggs, and only chuckled a little when you ate those like you were starved. Even though the room in your stomach grew smaller, your appetite only increased. Though you hoped otherwise, you knew it was just an omen for what your son would be like when he was older. If he would turn out anything like his dad, your fridge and pantry would be empty within days of going to the market.

“You don’t have to keep comin’ into work,” Simon suddenly piped up.

Smirking, you glanced at your husband before continuing to peck away at your breakfast. “Are you saying that because you think it’ll be good for me to get some bed rest, or because you’re tired of the way Sallow and the others keep looking at me in the halls?”

“Both,” he deadpanned.

“Ah.” A breathy sigh escaped you as you placed your empty plate on your lap and leaned back against the couch. If you stayed like that much longer, you were certain you’d melt into the cushions. “I’ve only got one more day. Just a few more things to sort out, and then I won’t have to see Sallow, or any of the others, for a long time. I think I can manage.”

“Or they can get fucked and handle it without you,” he shrugged.

“There’s that, too,” you chuckled.

Once Simon finished his plate, he slipped yours out of your lap before quickly slinking back into the kitchen to wash them. With an overdramatic grunt, you pushed yourself up from the couch. Everything spun for a short moment before you steadied yourself and wandered into the kitchen behind Simon. Had your stomach not been as large and stretched as it was, you would have snuck up behind him to embrace him from his back. Instead, you opted to lean against the counter next to him.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” you assured him.

“Not nervous. Just preparing,” he excused.

“Nervously preparing?” you teased.

He gave you a look that forced you to pause, and your expression softened as he turned the water off. A gentle hand reached for his arm where you gave him a good squeeze to catch his attention once more. Brown eyes locked onto yours as his hands absentmindedly wandered to your stomach. Your son was always restless in the mornings, and the slight smile that pulled at the corner of Simon’s lips at his kicks was unmistakable.

“We’ve done all we can for now,” you said as you rested your hands over his. “We’ve got the nursery set up, and we’ve got him clothes, diapers, bottles… All there’s left to do is wait. Besides, I don’t think either of us will ever fully be ready for something like this.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “Just worried ‘bout you. You’re the one who has to do the hard work.”

Chuckling, you gave his hands a small squeeze. “I’ll be alright. Promise.”

There wasn’t much time left that morning to dwell on the intimidating prospect of the near future, no matter how much you wished you could have stood in that kitchen forever. Instead, you had to shove your growing body into the uncomfortable maternity wear that your stomach seemed to grow out of weekly. A part of you was excited to give birth just so your clothes wouldn’t feel constricting any longer, yet of course there was the obvious obstacle of actually having your son. That realization hit you about twenty times a day, if not more.

Like you had told Simon earlier, there was no use in stressing over what would come anyway, and eventually you were too busy to even think about it at all. Despite your best efforts throughout the week, there were countless stacks of paperwork for you to sort through and file, and you were almost certain someone did this to you on purpose. Someone out there was certainly attempting to keep you chained there longer than you wanted to be, and you were half tempted to take Simon’s advice of fuck it and let them deal with it.

When noon rolled around and your stomach started growling, you were approached by your guardian angel. Or, at least that’s what you started calling Johnny those days. Apparently he had learned about your pregnancy pretty early on, not that you really minded. Johnny proved time and time again that he was worth keeping around, as you weren’t quick to forget the days during Simon’s time as prisoner. You weren’t sure you would have survived long enough if it wasn’t for him, and that was a debt you were certain you wouldn’t be able to repay anytime soon.

Once Johnny approached your desk, he looked down at you with a grin as he placed a takeout box in front of you, accompanied by the largest bottled water you had ever seen in your life. Its mouthwatering scent wafted over to you, and you wasted no time sliding the box closer to you with unapologetic hunger.

“Got sent on another errand?” you teased.

“Nah, I did this of my own volition this time,” Johnny smiled.

Flipping open the takeout box, you were met with one of the most greasy meals you had ever laid your eyes on. Certainly not at all the healthiest thing for you to eat, but those days you craved anything high in calories. You were certain you could have the meal finished in a few minutes tops, and if you were lucky you wouldn’t even get heartburn afterwards.

“Figured I’d get you a treat since it’s your last day and all,” Johnny admitted as you began to dig in.

“You make it sound like you’re never going to see me again,” you joked.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have your hands plenty full,” he said as his eyes flickered to your stomach.

“Not busy enough to where the little guy won’t be able to see his favorite uncle.”

Johnny’s grin grew wider at your comment, if that was even possible. Though he had been rather quiet about his excitement for your child, it was still obvious. The way he never seemed afraid to dote on you, always helping you at work where Simon couldn’t afford to; really, he was the closest thing to family you were able to get, and there wasn’t a day that went by that you weren’t grateful for him.

“Favorite?” he prompted as if urging you to go on about how great he was.

“Well, of course. You’ll be his only uncle, so it’s not like there’s much competition,” you teased.

Johnny raised a hand up to his chest as if you had wounded him, which only got you to giggle. Shaking your head, you quickly shoved another bite of food into your mouth before chastising him.

“Get back to work, MacTavish.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Really, there wasn’t much work for him to do that day. There never was. He wasn’t an officer, yet he still was higher rank than a majority of the soldiers that spent their workday there. More often than not, he would give Troopers busy work, help with training sessions, and on the very rare occasion, give lectures.

He had a love-hate relationship with his rank. Most would call him an extrovert, which wasn’t exactly incorrect. He enjoyed his conversation and banter just as much as the next man did. It was easier to be a part of more laid back conversation with others when he wasn’t their direct superior. However, he was never allowed to deal out punishment how he saw fit, and that was more frustrating than anything else. People being able to get away with bad things, people being able to walk around freely without a care in the world.

And there were plenty of people who needed punishment.

“Soap?”

A majority of Johnny’s day had gone by in a blur, and though he probably could have snuck off base, he had decided to stick around to work on the Sudoku puzzle in that day's paper. That was, until Loughty decided to interrupt him. Though, he had to give credit where credit was due. He had been trying to get the man to call him by his nickname for ages rather than use that Sergeant MacTavish bullshit, and it seemed like all his prompting had finally gotten through that thick skull of his.

Looking up from the puzzle, Johnny was quick to take in the man’s appearance. Loughty always dressed as if he was going to be inspected at any moment, and truly was a man who followed every rule like he would be shot on sight if not. No amount of sharp looks could hide the fact that there was an aura of pure anxiety that always seemed to exude from the guy. Perhaps that was why he was the rule follower that he was.

“What is it?” he asked as he tapped his pencil against his thigh.

The lump in Loughty’s throat was visible, and though he did his best to swallow it, the pure worry was evident on his face. Still, he steadied his hands and straightened his back before speaking.

“I think Arlo might be getting himself into trouble,” he finally admitted.

Unphased, Johnny had to hold himself back from laughing at the man as he tossed the newspaper onto the side table next to him. “When is he not?”

“No, I mean real trouble,” Loughty insisted. “As in, I think this could get him discharged, or worse.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise Johnny either. Despite Loughty’s apparent anxiety and a need to follow the rules, he had certainly made a friend that was the complete opposite of him. Still, despite his personal reservations about the man, Sallow was an annoyingly good soldier. Wicked smart, he passed every test with flying colors. His only downfall would be his own hubris.

“What’s he done now?” Johnny asked.

“We were assigned to sort away some paperwork in the archives. I think Sergeant Callaghan was just trying to get us out of his hair,” Loughty said, attempting some tone of humor. Once he realized that his words fell flat, his face hardened to something more serious. “He started going through bins that he shouldn’t, even though Callaghan told us to keep our hands off of anything but the Urzikstan archives. I guess the point is, while I was actually doing my job, he started going through the bins one by one until he came across some files marked with the location Salthouse and I guess found something about Mrs. Riley and-”

“Where is he?” Johnny cut him off.

Salthouse. Fucking Salthouse. Of course. Johnny could still recall the events of that day all too well. Everything they went through to save you. How they had to rush you off for medical after you had been shot. Then there was the utter torture that was healing. What had really haunted him the most was the pictures of you; the ones Simon had shredded. He was glad that those pictures were gone, because if Sallow had gotten his hands on them, had even gotten a glimpse of them, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself back.

“That’s the problem. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to talk to Mrs. Riley about it.”

Five o’clock was so close you could nearly taste it. Your entire day was spent working double time in order to get everything prepared for your leave, and the many times you had to use the restroom didn’t help expedite things either. The dying drone of your computer shutting down was like music to your ears, and as you stood from your desk you made sure to do a quick glance over it. Everything was tidy, neat and hidden away. All that was left to do was go home.

Except it was never that easy, and really, you should have known better. That giddy smile on your face quickly vanished the moment your eyes landed on Arlo Sallow. The expression on his face was the same as it had been for the last few months as your pregnancy grew more noticeable. Some poorly hidden disdain, yet a sick humor, like he was in on a joke that you weren’t.

Over your pregnancy, you had learned something terribly heart wrenching and frustrating about being a woman; you were less than human, and especially while pregnant. Your body had changed and spent so much energy to grow your son, and yet still you were seen as nothing but a trope. An annoyance. People looked at you as if you were a freak of nature. And of course you could not talk about how excited you were to have your son lest someone complain about how they could never have kids, but if you didn’t seem enthusiastic enough then you were a bad mother before your child was even born. The double standard of it all had a dull rage bubble in the back of your skull, and it was only worse when Arlo fucking Sallow of all people had the audacity to stare at you like that, too.

“Mrs. Riley,” he greeted you with a suave he didn’t deserve to hold.

“Sallow,” you replied, your voice less than enthusiastic. “If you have any more paperwork, I suggest handing it off to someone else. Unless you don’t want it to get filed for another year or so.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of your maternity leave starting today, don’t worry,” he dismissed. “I just figured I’d stop by with the hopes you could answer a question for me.”

It took everything in you to hold back the urge to roll your eyes. There was always something so infuriatingly proper about Sallow. How he would speak so kindly and yet his words were laced with such malice you nearly choked on them.

“Shoot,” you said, already bored with whatever game he tried to play.

“I was wondering if you could tell me a little about Salthouse?”

Everything around you melted away at his words, asked so nonchalantly yet with insidious intent at the same time. Your skin ran cold, and you could feel your blood pressure skyrocket as you assessed him, trying to figure out how he could have found out about something like that. It had been ages since you had last even thought of Salthouse and everything that happened there. Why was Sallow of all people trying to dig that up?

“What the hell are you getting at?” you questioned, your voice low but sharp. You were still in the office with plenty of prying eyes. You couldn’t afford to get emotional.

“Well you see. MacTavish was going on a while ago about how you used to be some sort of intelligence agent once upon a time. Got yourself captured by Mark Sizov after helping to rescue Ghost, or whatever. But, you see, I came across some files in the archives that said differently,” he explained coolly. He quickly glanced over his shoulder as if to assess the room behind him before turning back to face you once more. “Apparently, you weren’t ever an intelligence agent, or anything of the sort. Just a regular civilian. I’m just curious as to why the Sergeant would lie about something like that.”

Sallow’s admittance of hearing Johnny’s fabricated story didn’t come as a surprise to you. The man made sure to tell you as soon as he was able to, and explained he did it in order to throw him off of your and Simon’s tail. What did concern you though, was how he managed to get that new information.

“If you’re so curious, you should probably bring it up with your CO. I don’t think I’m exactly at liberty to share classified information,” you said in an attempt to dissuade him from pushing any further.

“I figured I’d give you the chance to answer me first, actually,” he replied. “The reports I read through mentioned some… interesting photos that didn’t seem to be present with the rest of the files. Seems like someone had tampered with evidence, which would certainly get them court martialed. Or worse.”

Oh. So that’s what this was. A threat. Or more accurately, an ultimatum. You weren’t quite sure who exactly got rid of those photos of you, but if you had to guess it was almost certainly Simon, and by the look in Sallow’s eyes, he probably deduced the same thing. What he was really trying to tell you was that you would either re-live everything that happened to you in Salthouse for whatever demented joy he would get out of it, or he would formally report Simon for tampering with classified evidence.

“Would you not also get in trouble for sleuthing through files you shouldn’t have?” you countered.

“I think we can both agree that one of these transgressions is certainly worse than the other,” Sallow shrugged.

You hummed as if you actually considered his words, when really you wanted to rip him a new one. There was something so intrusive about everything he had said, and you were nearly proud of yourself for holding everything together. All it was, was another game. You were so sick and tired of playing games.

God, he really was just like Bukin.

“What do you get out of this? Truly? Does it bring you some sort of sick joy to toy with people the way you do? Because I’ll be the first to say I think everyone’s getting a little tired of your pompous attitude,” you said, teeth grinding.

“I don’t see it as toying as much as… putting people in their place,” he explained.

“Oh?” you prompted.

“It’s a good reminder that people shouldn’t get too comfortable. You obviously got too comfortable with a certain member of Task Force 141. Had you just realized you should have stayed the stupid civilian rather than some soldier’s bitch, you probably never would have found yourself in Salthouse in the first place, right? At least, that’s what it sounds like. And Ghost’s authority is a farce at best. He struts around the place like he owns everything, and everyone just gives into his bullshit as if they’re too scared to challenge him. If only they knew how he failed.”

Your teeth gritted so hard you swore one was about to shatter, yet you attempted to calm yourself by glancing away from him and gathering your thoughts. You were so fucking tired of games. Of people trying to force you to be a player when all you wanted was to be left alone.

“So you’re… running around like an angry child because you have a problem with authority?” you concluded. “Listen, Sallow, I don’t like you, and never did, but believe me when I say I’m doing you a favor right now. Drop this. Whatever crusade you’re trying to go on? You’re not ranked nearly high enough to get off scot free. I don’t think you want to see just how far Ghost’s authority stretches.”

A heavy smirk crossed Sallow’s face as he leaned forward. You didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten to one another during your argument until you smelled his breath. It was annoyingly minty, like he kept a pack of gum hidden somewhere in his uniform.

“You don’t scare me,” he claimed.

Tilting your head to the side, you slowly blinked at him. “That’s fine. The last man who wasn’t afraid of me is dead in an orchard. Bravery doesn’t save you from consequences.”

“Sallow!”

Johnny’s voice boomed like dynamite throughout the open office, and everyone’s head perked up in a single, strong wave. You had never seen him look so angry before with eyes brimming with fire and a glare so sharp you were surprised Sallow wasn’t keeled over dead on the ground. Not even in Salthouse did he harbor such fury, as most of his expression had been saturated with concern. But not that time. That time the only expression you could read off of him was the insatiable urge to throttle Arlo Sallow.

The look of confusion that the other office workers wore quickly grew into concern the moment Johnny and Sallow started to get into it. Though you could have stayed and watched the show, an odd wave of exhaustion clung to your body. Your lovely conversation with Sallow had taken more out of you mentally and emotionally than you cared to admit, and your thoughts began to wander to slinking off back home where you could rot away in bed for the rest of the night.

While the men were distracted with their arguing — which couldn’t seem to quite reach your ears — you slipped out of the office before exiting the building. The promise of rain loomed over your head as you began your trip home. Whatever old wounds Sallow attempted to open, the memories he tried to pry from the shadowy depths of your brain, you refused to let them take you again.

Grounding yourself was easier than ever those days. Perhaps you had the months — no, years — of intensive therapy to thank for that. Or maybe it was just the bed. A mixture of fresh linen and the smell of Simon imbued in the bedsheets calmed your mind as you curled on your side and breathed the scent in. Your son began to stir with restless feet against nearly every major organ inside of your body, and even in the emptiness of the apartment you couldn’t help but laugh. Not even born yet and he was already so much like Simon; such a restless fighter.

Simon arrived home earlier than he normally did. It didn’t take him very long to find you either, as your resting form wasn’t exactly inconspicuous underneath the comforter. His body weighed down your side of the bed as he sat next to you where his hand instinctively made its way to your stomach. His hand always seemed to end up there eventually.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, gently prompting you awake.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you sighed while you adjusted yourself in order to better look up at him. A smile flitted across your lips as you took his hand in yours where you reveled in the touch of his skin with a hum. His clothes were damp, and you could hear the faint sound of water tapping against the window.

“Right as rain,” you teased.

But Simon didn’t smile. His worry for you was nothing if not obvious, and his eyes assessed you as if he feared your body had sustained physical wounds with your argument with Sallow.

“Johnny told me about everything. Said you ran off before he was able to check on you,” he said.

“I didn’t run off,” you chuckled. “It was past five, and I wanted to go home. I certainly don’t get paid enough to listen to Sallow spew out that bullshit.”

Simon paused for a moment before tenderly asking, “What did he say to you?”

A laugh nearly escaped your throat when you thought back to everything that transpired between the two of you. Instead, you gently sat up in bed before adjusting your pillows so that you could lean against the headboard.

“He basically admitted to snooping through files he shouldn’t have. Found the archives about Salthouse, which I’d like to mention for the record, I didn’t know those existed until he brought it up. Either way, he basically made it seem like I was a meddling bitch for getting involved with you, and you’re just some power hungry officer and that both of us needed to be put in our place. He also insinuated that you had destroyed those pictures of me and that he’d try to get you court martialed for it.”

He paused. “I did destroy those pictures.”

“I figured as much,” you chuckled. “But really, I’m fine. It was more of a nuisance than anything else. When Johnny showed up I didn’t really care enough to stick around.”

Simon’s thumb brushed against the wave of your knuckles as a gentle rumble of thunder reverberated overhead. Being on the top floor of the apartment complex was nice because you didn’t have to worry about the noise anyone would make above you, but it always meant the wind and storms hit twice as hard than usual.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Cunt shouldn’t have had access to the archives in the first place,” he muttered.

“It’s fine. I won’t have to deal with him for a year or so anyway,” you said as you squeezed his hand.

“You won’t have to deal with him ever,” Simon corrected. “His verbal altercation with Johnny became physical. Swung at him in front of the entire front office. Cunt will probably be dishonorably discharged by the end of the week if he’s not locked up first.”

“Seriously?” you questioned. “Johnny’s not hurt, is he?”

“‘Course not.”

Still, there was something terribly satisfying about that news. As far as you could remember, that was the first time someone had wronged you and they had received justice without you or anyone else you cared about getting hurt in the process. Well, terribly hurt anyway, but you were sure Johnny didn’t mind taking a punch or two for you. The terrible nuisance that was Arlo Sallow would finally be snuffed out.

“Good,” you smiled.

“You sure you’re alright?” Simon pressed again.

Huffing, you playfully rolled your eyes. “Baby, I’m fine. Just tired. Worked my ass off filing the remainder of that bullshit paperwork.”

Your playful and lighthearted attitude seemed to finally convince him that you really were alright, and he stood from the bed with a sigh. As he stripped off his wet layers of clothing, he insisted that you lay back down for a nap before he slid into bed next to you, pulling your back close to his chest.

Another wave of thunder rattled the room as you settled into the mattress, and as usual, Simon’s hand rested on your stomach. Your child rested with you, but only for a short while before he was right back at it again using your bladder as a trampoline.

“Christ, kid, I just got comfortable,” you chuckled, though you made no attempt at getting out of bed.

“Think he can feel the thunder?” Simon wondered.

“Maybe. He’s probably trying to fight it off,” you joked.

A small chuckle left Simon, and you could feel his grin form against the back of your neck. “Atta boy.”

Soft pitter patters of rain drowned the silence of the room as the two of you laid there enjoying one another's presence. Even after everything that had happened that day, you felt remarkably fine. More than that, you felt great. You were free from work, at home with your husband, cuddling in bed without a care in the world. It was the domestic life you had always craved. The one your mother had always wished for you.

“I’m taking my paternal leave early,” Simon suddenly admitted.

You made a poor attempt at trying to look at Simon from over your shoulder, only to fail terribly and plop your head back on your pillow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Best if I don’t stick around while Sallow gets investigated. Don’t really wanna leave you alone, either,” he explained.

You would have been fine alone for another few weeks until your due date, and though you could have laid there and explained that to Simon, you knew it was pointless. He had become your shadow, never wanting to leave you alone, always sewed to your side. It wasn’t like you could pretend to fully enjoy your time if he wasn’t there with you, anyways.

“You’re not worried about anyone putting any pieces together?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t care about what they think. Just care about you.”

Smirking, you snuggled back into his chest. “Are you gonna thank Sallow for giving you a good excuse to stay home?”

Simon chuckled sourly behind you, his breath hot on your neck. His laugh was infectious, and you crooned as he squeezed you tight.

“Never in a million fuckin’ years.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #f!reader

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