Summary: "The most troubling fact was that you wouldnât be concealed backupâa position you had become accustomed to holding on operations like this. Instead, you would be front and center, playing the housewife to Simonâs working man."
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) reader is American (no other descriptors), canon typical violence but just barely, maskless Ghost, fake relationship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, kinda soft!Dom Simon, some hair pulling, dirty talk, mild degradation, lots of praise, creampie, I still don't know how the military works or how undercover missions work, if I missed anything please let me know!
AN: To be so honest guys I'm not thrilled with this, but I did what I could. Is the plot nonsense? Perhaps. We're rolling with it.
Bonnie Riley.
The name was right there in bold typeface, printed on the fake ID Price had handed you.
Bonnie Riley, from Connecticut, who looked just like you.
But she wasnât you. Not in a literal sense, anyway.
She was preppy and properâpresentable, in her tennis whites, her hair loose around her face.
Covert operations were awkward. At their worst, they served as a chilling reminder that so many people had no regard for life outside their own; at best, they were mind-numbing, and a bit uncanny, as you were forced into an entirely new role.
When Price had approached the Task Force with the assignmentâan undercover op somewhere in Nowheresville, USAâyou had been eager, made excited by the notion of returning to the states.
You missed sweet tea; you missed the rounded, drawled accents of America.
But it was only after you had agreed to the mission that it came to light what you would have to do.
One cartel was working with another, but the details of the brief got hazy from there. The country was suspicious about ulterior motives, worried by the links the domestic group had to other countries. Your job was to find out whether those suspicions were warranted.
As far as stealth missions were concerned, this one was comparatively bland.
The most troubling fact was that you wouldnât be concealed backupâa position you had become accustomed to holding on operations like this. Instead, you would be front and center, playing the housewife to Simonâs working man.
You still werenât entirely sure how youâd ended up in this position, or whether it was even necessary. But your hand had been forced, as had his.
Ghostâs title as Lieutenant meant a heightened level of responsibility, which was obvious, and more than fair; his consistent silence made him fit for a job that required a hefty dose of observation.
You, in turn, were given the task of having his back; paying attention to his whereabouts just as closely as you did the targets.
Plus, you were the only woman on the Task Force, and an American, to boot.
Playing house ensured that you wouldnât garner any skepticism moving into the cul-de-sac, granting easy access to the targets.
You leaned against the window of the rented moving van, turning the ID in your hand.
Dragging your finger along the laminated edges, you found yourself thinking of the fake ID you had bought in high school. You smiled at one memory of awkwardly ordering drinks at the local bar, before your father had walked in and seen you and your friends sipping unhappily on warm beer.
You were grounded for a week, but your parents had let you keep the shoddy piece of plastic.
That fake had been adorned with your real name; it was only as fake as it needed to be.
Now, you were Bonnie Rileyâfaker than fake.
The name Bonnie had been your idea. It was a favorite of Soapâs when addressing you, and you figured a nickname would be easier to remember than something original and unfamiliar. Simon hadnât been on board with the concept of an alias, stubbornly refusing to pick a name; Price had stepped in and deemed him âJim.â (âStrong British name, eh?â âSânot me.â âThatâs the point, Lieutenant.â)
But when it came to choosing last names, youâd all struggled. Something like âSmithâ would be too ambiguous, but anything more unique might be a struggle to remember or explain, were you to get caught up in your web of lies.
When it was time to create the faulty identification, Price had grown frustrated.
âMight as well keep Riley, for all I careââ He had pinched the bridge of his nose as he addressed Simon, âIf thatâs something you can agree on. God's sake, youâre married.â
âWho says Iâd take his last name?â You scowled, already far from pleased by what the mission entailed, but now growing frustrated that your voice wasnât being heard.
âAliases arenât legally binding, Sergeant.â Price quirked a brow at you, daring you to continue your argument.
You had hesitated.
âShould we really go with one of our legal names?â
You posed the question rhetorically, not expecting a response from either of the men.
Realistically, you knew it was a fine ideaâit was unassuming, common enough to go unquestioned but not common enough to seem deliberately chosen to blend in. It was easy to remember, and itâs not like people outside the barracks knew Ghost by his real name, anyway.
âFine," you sighed, resigned. "Iâll be a Riley.â
âWelcome addition.â Simon had nodded in agreement, voice gravelly.
You winced at the memory, watching the landscape pass by as Price drove the van down the highway.
It wasnât that you didnât like Simonâhe was a fantastic Lieutenant, someone you considered a friend before you considered him a coworker. But therein lay the problem; you did like him, maybe a bit too much.
There was a heightened level of anxiety now as you realized that the time and effort youâd spent trying to ignore your feelings for him would be nullified by your need to act domestic with him.
Not to mention his phrasing when the name had been decided uponâa welcome addition. It produced a pang in your stomach not unlike butterflies, which made you more embarrassed, than anything.
You looked down at the ID again. Your picture next to the Riley name made you feel something warm in your chest.
It was an alias, sureâa shamâbut the sight was gratifying, either way.
You yawned, growing wary of the silence in the van.
âI still donât understand why this is something we have to do.â You spoke up, dropping the ID in your lap and staring at Price in the rearview mirror.
âGot somewhere tâbe?â He replied with an amused huff.
You rolled your eyes, turning back to the window.
âJust doesnât seem like our jurisdiction,â you frowned, âCartel in Middle America? More of an FBI racket, no?â
âUsually.â Price adjusted the mirror.
âButâŚ?â You prompted him when he didnât continue.
âBut, this cartel may be on the ins with a British operation in Wales. And the Welsh fellas are working with a group somewhere on the European continent,â Price drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, âFBI thinks collusion could lead to something bigger than just moving drugs. Already gotten word of terroristic threats.â
âSo now you have Ghost and I playing Mulder and Scully?â You scoffed, still staring out the window.
âYouâll have your kit back on in no time, Sergeant.â Price chuckled.
âGood,â you smiled, finally meeting his gaze in the mirror again, âThis sweater is itchy.â
âConsider yerself lucky, lass,â Soap piped up from the passenger seat, turning his body to look back at you. âLeast ye got a regular sweater. Poor Ghost looks a pure fandan.â
âNobody knows what âat means, MacTavish.â Simon shifted in his seat, typically stoic but clad in a sweater vest and looking just as abysmally preppy as you did.
He looked handsome, but the clothes were so uncharacteristic of him that the thought made you feel somewhat guilty.
âSorry, LT,â Soap craned his neck to look at Ghost, âA brief translation: ye look like a dick.â
Gaz huffed a laugh under his breath next to you, and Simon clenched his jaw.
~~~
The neighborhood was so polished that it looked unnatural. Identical houses lined up in rows; yards with high, pruned bushes; shiny cars, parked carefully in front of white garages.
This was wealthy territory, and it made you uncomfortable to stare the upper class in the face after spending so much time in the barracks.
There wasnât much to unpack, despite the number of boxes that had been loaded into the van. Most of them were empty, or filled with small items that would come in handy during the stakeout that would be occurring during the foreseeable future.
But the weightlessness was certainly beneficial, and as Gaz, Soap, and Price acted as movers, you stifled a laugh at their attempts to make it seem as though the boxes were full and heavy.
âThisâs the last of it.â Gaz dropped the final box in the middle of the floor.
The cardboard made a clinking sound when it hit the hardwood, and you saw Kyleâs expression turn to one of vague panic as he opened the box to reveal a set of extension cords and small mics.
âGood,â Price didnât seem bothered about Gazâs carelessness over the equipment. âSâget ourselves set up here.â
You folded the empty boxes as they were unpacked, stacking them up beside you.
âWhy do we all need to be here.â You quickly grew bored of unpacking in silence, mind still buzzing with nagging questions.
âReinforcements.â Price said simply.
âFor a sting operation that we havenât even started?â You countered.
âRather do all the work yourself?â Gaz looked up at you, smirking, and you tossed a sheet of bubble wrap at him.
It flew sideways, swaying as it floated to the ground.
âWhat do we do if people see you?â You voiced a larger concern, âThink theyâll buy it if we tell them the movers just...decided to stick around?â
âTell âem weâre yer kids.â Soap had settled onto the floor, fiddling with an extension cord.
You looked at the Sergeants and Price; none of the three could pass as younger than you, and none of them looked like you or Simon in any capacity.
âYouâre stupid.â You laughed quietly, shaking your head at the obvious faults in Soapâs idea.
âOiâsâno way to talk to your son.â Kyle laughed.
âBig house,â Price butted in, âNobodyâll see us. And there should be no reason anybody should come in.â
âThere room for us all?â Gaz perked up, âOr is someone sleeping on the couch?â
âNot me.â Johnny perked up, ready to argue.
âThereâs space,â the Captain chewed his cheek, hesitating before he looked at you, âYou two are sharing, though.â He gestured to Ghost.
âWhy us?â Your gaze shifted to Simon, who didnât seem to care, or maybe he just hadnât heard; he was busy setting up one of the monitors.
âMarried.â
âAliases arenât legally binding.â You threw his words from weeks ago back at him. âWhy canât any other combination of us share a room?â
âAssume itâs cause the rest of us take up too much space,â Gaz smirked, ââNd Soap snores.â
âDinnae!â
âJustââ Price sighed. Heâd clearly been anticipating your pushback. âUnless youâd rather take the couchâŚâ
You swallowed, weighing your options.
Sleeping on the couch would be the more admirable thing to do. Simon was putting a lot of effort into this missionâand he outranked you. It felt only fair that he got the opportunity to sleep in a real bed.
Plus, you could feel your ears heating up at the mere thought of sharing a bed with him, and you didnât want to know what would happen if it actually came to fruition.
âI can take the couch,â Simon spoke up before you had the chance to respond to Price. âDonât plan on doinâ much sleeping, anyway.â
âDonât care what you do in here. Just remember that outside this house, youâre married.â Price nodded, picking up the pile of empty cardboard boxes at your feet and tossing them by the front door.
âRight,â you sighed. âYeah.â
~~~
You walked down the stairs slowly; it was dark, and you didnât want to run the risk of missing a step and tripping over yourself.
Being in a new place always made you uneasy. You had become so accustomed to life on a military baseâsmall rooms and small beds, curfews and floodlightsâthat anything else felt unnerving.
This house had shadows in new places, the bed was against a different wall. It all felt so liminal, and you despised it.
You remedied your discomfort by wandering the halls, trying to acclimate to your surroundings.
There was quiet chatter coming from the living room, and you turned the corner to see Simon awake on the couch, flipping through TV channels.
âWhat you doinâ up?â He didnât bother turning to look at you.
âBig house,â you mumbled, not at all surprised by his knowledge of your presence; he was intuitive to a frightening degree. âTrying to...gather my bearings.â
Simon grunted a response, still not looking at you. You rounded the corner of the couch, keeping your distance.
âWhy are you still up?â You chanced the question.
âBeen a long time since I âad cable.â He almost smiled, and you liked the way it looked; the light from the TV illuminated his face, and he seemed so docile.
âSo, youâre just doing a, uhâŚâ You looked at the TV, âA Brady Bunch rerun marathon?â
He looked up at you, not replying, but he smiled for real now, and that was just as good a response as any.
âStill in your day clothes.â You pointed out.
âMy stuffâs in the room youâre sleeping in,â Simon shifted on the couch, and you tried not to focus on the way he let one hand fall over the curve of his thigh. âDidnât wanna bother you.â
âWouldnât bother me,â you shook your head, âChange, LT. Youâre allowed to get comfortable.â
âWho said anything âbout being uncomfortable?â He challenged.
âGhost, youâre wearing pleated slacks,â you scoffed at him, âIâm uncomfortable just looking at you.â
âMiss my casual attire, love?â He smirked, and you rolled your eyes.
âYeah. Already sick of having to look at you without the mask.â
It was a deflection, really, to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying being able to see him without the hinderance of the balaclava.
âYou wound me, Sergeant.â He heaved a sigh, the smirk on his lips still obvious.
âYou gonna change, or not?â
He stared up at you for a moment, short strands of blond hair falling over his face as he analyzed you.
âAâright,â he conceded, standing up and walking over to you. âGo on.â
You smiled, nodding in approval at his cession as you made your way up the stairs.
The bedroom was bigâtoo big for just one person. The high ceiling and lack of any furniture, save for the bed, only served to make it seem even more spacious, which in turn made it feel even emptier.
Having Simon in it with you made it much cozier, and you couldnât tell if it was just because he physically took up so much space, or if it was just his presence alone that soothed you.
Wordlessly, Simon grabbed the duffel heâd tossed beneath the bed. You watched on intently as he hoisted it by the strap over his shoulder.
He really did look so handsome like this. In another life, maybe this is how heâd be living; white picket fence, a nine-to-five. Maybe even a dogâyou could picture him so clearly with a German Shephard by his side.
But you couldnât imagine Simon living the domestic life in suburbia, not really. You couldnât picture him without the scars and the grit.
Itâs what made him Simon, and you didnât necessarily think that was a bad thing.
âWhatâs your story?â You sat on the edge of the bed.
âYâknow enough.â He grunted, turning to you.
âNo, yourââ You sighed, rolling your eyes. âYour backstory. ForâŚâ You gestured between yourself and him.
He nodded in acknowledgement.
âMarried two years, together fâeightââ
âYou work slow, Jim.â
âIâm careful, sweetheart,â he quirked a brow at you, and you smiled, allowing him to continue. âMoved âere from England cause you missed being home.â
âWhat do you do for a living?â You prompted.
âIT.â He gritted out.
âNobody will believe that.â
ââNd theyâll believe youâre a âousewife?â He shot back.
You shook your head, laughing softly. âFair.â
He shifted his jaw, and the conversation was over. He turned to leave, but you had one more thing on your mind.
âYou donât have to sleep on the couch for the whole op,â you called after him quietly. âI canâŚwe can trade off, every night. If youâd like.â
He turned to look at you again, standing in the doorway.
He shook his head. âDeserve your beauty sleep, Mrs. Riley.â
He turned to leave, closing the door behind him, and you could hear his footsteps as he walked back downstairs. You were left alone in the stupidly large bedroom, the sound of your pulse rattling around your skull.
~~~
To any outward observer, it looked like a chance encounter; people meeting, exchanging pleasantries as neighbors do, finding a sort of simpatico.
But it was a well thought out planâas well thought out as it could be.
Price had given you the instructions over coffee that morning. You were bleary eyed and felt ill-prepared, but you had to admit, the man worked fast.
âMake sure they stop.â Price stood with folded arms as he watched you and Simon leave the house.
âCanât really force it.â You paused in the foyer to point out the flaw in his logic, uncertain whether this would pan out the way you all hoped.
âTrap âem with small talk.â Price countered.
âYeahâcause Ghost is known for his chit-chat.â
âSâwhy youâre helpinâ him.â Price cracked a small smile upon hearing your swipe at Simon.
âWhat do we do if this works?â You felt a little anxious about being in the spotlight through all of this, âYou want us to walk right back inside? Cause that seemsâI feel like that wouldnâtâŚlook right.â
âDrive around,â Price shrugged, âGo wherever your heart desires.â
âPick up some groceries!â Gaz shouted from another room, eavesdropping.
âAyeâyer kids are sick oâcereal and cheese sandwiches.â Soap added his two cents from the couch.
You rolled your eyes as you made your way out of the house in yet another uncomfortably starched outfit.
Simon was already outside, leaning against the front wall of the house. He seemed to have positioned himself fairly purposefully behind the hedges that lined the lawn; he held himself awkwardly without his kit, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.
You realized he was likely trying to find comfort in a more sniper-like position so that he wouldnât have to face the world more than he already had to in this situation.
âCâmon,â Simon nodded at you when you closed the door. âYâaâright?â
You nodded, sighing. âWeâre getting groceries after this.â
He made a face, but he didnât say anything as he pushed himself off the wall and followed you down to the driveway.
A few feet from the garage, Simon grabbed your arm.
âLook.â
His voice was low, a gravelly whisper as he nodded to something down the street.
You followed his gaze and saw a couple approachingâthey fit the description, matched the pictures; target acquired.
Simon opened the garage door, an action that made him look busy and ensured they would take notice of the two of you.
It worked; they looked up with startled smiles.
âOhânew neighbors!â The woman called out before she had even reached your driveway.
Her accent rang out as clearly East coast. These were city folk who had run West to avoid the prying eyes and greedy pockets of whichever police department they were under the jurisdiction of; they were finding solace in small-town ambience while they made bank off of moving goods.
âHi, there!â You waved, smiling wide as you encouraged them closer, attempting to rope them into conversation. âJust moved in.â
âThatâs so great! That house has been empty so long...â
The woman finally stood before you, and you could see now that she was older than you, probably by at least ten years or soâthough she was clearly putting effort into hiding it.
âAbout time someone made a home out of itâI was just saying so. Rob,â she turned to her husband, who trailed behind her, âWasnât I just saying so?â
âYou were,â he nodded, sliding an arm around her waist and reaching his free hand out to Simon. âRobert Fergusonâthis is my wife, Deborah.â
âCall me Deb!â She exclaimed, feigning bashfulness.
âJim Riley,â Simon shook Robertâs hand, nodding sideways at you. âMy wife, Bonnie.â
âYouâre British!â Deb looked absolutely astounded by this revelation.
âYes.â Simon nodded, and you couldnât help but notice how the muscle in his jaw ticked; all of his focus seemed to be on making his features behave to hide his feelings now that the balaclava was off.
âWhat brings you to our neck of the woods?â Robert asked, quirking a brow, and you wondered if he was already onto you.
âMissed home,â you finally found the opportunity to speak up, inching yourself closer to Simon to keep up the guise of married life. âWeâve been living overseas for so long; I just couldnât go another day of rain and beans.â
Simon glanced down at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a begrudging, but amused, smirk. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you against him.
âSâright.â
You swallowed the sound that wanted to come out of your mouth when his hand made contact with your body.
It was for show, and you knew that, but it felt nice; he was warm, and you could feel the soft rhythm of his heartbeat when you leaned into him.
You willed your blood back down when it began to rush to your cheeks.
âOverseasâŚYou military?â Robert prodded.
âNoâIâm in IT.â Simon quickly shut down any discussion of military service, which you knew was not done with any satisfaction.
âScars are from a wonky laptop, then?â Robert laughed, but you could tell he was prying, trying to get a feel for you.
Simon cleared his throat, putting his free hand in his pocket to avoid reaching up and tracing the scars on his cheek.
He hadnât really considered that the scars that marred him would be visible; heâd practically forgotten what his own face looked like at this point.
He didnât think anybody would care to notice the details.
âMining accident,â you rushed to cover for him. âWe lived in Wales for a few yearsâwhen we met.â
You looked up at Simon, who looked confused, but grateful.
âTurns out, heâs not as good with a pickaxe as he is with a computer.â You forced a laugh, and Deb followed suit, wheezing out a giggle.
Robert nodded, buying the lie, and you chanced a smile at him.
âWell, if you need anythingâŚâ Robert turned from you to look at Simon, who had regained his composureâthough you werenât sure if anyone but you had noticed heâd lost it. âWeâre right down the street, love toââ
âYou should come for dinner sometime!â Deb butted in.
âWeâd love to have you.â Robert nodded.
And just like that, you were in.
You said your goodbyes and watched on as they turned to walk back down your driveway.
Robert paused for a moment.
âYou golf, Jim?â
âOnce or twice.â Simon liedâheâd never so much as picked up a golf club.
âShould come down to the club sometimeâmeet some of the other guys in the neighborhood.â Robert smiled, rejoining his wife and walking off.
You and Simon stayed silent as you loaded yourselves into the car.
You drummed on your thigh, staring out the windshield and watching the house get smaller as Simon backed out of the driveway.
The car was nice. It matched the setting; sleek and shiny, though the vehicle didnât feature any of the off-putting atmosphere that the neighborhood seemed to buzz with.
Simon had taken the moving van back to the lot it had come from the previous day. When he returned in the new car, you hadnât asked anybody where it had come from, or why you needed something so flashy.
âWales?â He finally spoke when he turned onto the main road.
âThe other group Price mentionedâthey operate out of Wales,â you explained, âFirst thing that came to mind.â
âRight,â Simon nodded, âAnd I worked in a mine?â
âI just associate Wales with the miner riotsâŚâ You felt flustered, maybe a bit embarrassed by the link youâd come up with.
âWhereâd you learn about âat?â Simon smirked, shooting a glance at you before refocusing on the road.
âThey teach us a little more in history class than just Paul Revere and his midnight ride.â You found yourself grinning at him.
ââNd you think Iâm âat old?â He shook his head, âOld enough tâbe a miner in nineteen-eighty?â
âIn that outfit?â You pointed out his sweater vest, âYeah.â
âCheeky thing.â He dropped a hand to your thigh, patting your leg twice before removing it.
For a second time in an hour, you caught the sound that would have otherwise passed your lips. You straightened your skirt in an effort to chase the warmth his palm had pressed into your skin.
âJust thank me, LT,â you sighed, âSaved your ass.â
âWonât be the last time, sweetheart.â
~~~
It was dark by the time you returned to the house; the streetlamps that lined the road had turned on, and the houses were unlitâsave for a few bedroom lamps that glowed through curtained windows.
Simon put the bags of groceries on the kitchen island, tossing the car keys down next to them. He ran a hand over his face, pressing his palms onto the counter.
Soap wandered from his chosen bedroom when heâd heard the front door, sidling up next to Simon and sorting through the food that was still stacked in the bags.
âJohnny?â Simon sighed.
âAye?â Soap pulled out an apple.
âCâyou teach me âow to golf by tomorrow?â
âThink just cause Iâm Scottish I play golf?â Soap scoffed, peeling the sticker from the apple.
âDo you?â Simon quirked a brow.
Soap rolled his eyes, hesitating.
âAyeâŚâ
âHe agreed to play a round with the target.â You cut in on their conversation, pouring yourself a glass of water and kicking off your shoes.
âDidnât agree,â Simon scowled, âDidnât even respond.â
âTold him youâd golfed before, though,â You finished your water, putting the cup in the sink and shooing Johnny away from the grocery bags so you could unpack them. âSeems to me like you havenâtâŚâ
âAlready lyinâ about everything else.â Simon folded his arms, glaring.
âYeah?â You quirked a brow. âYou sure you werenât just trying to fit in? To seem cool?â
âHaud yer wheesht,â Soap laughed, âYe fight like a married couple.â
âSâthe point, yeah?â Simon huffed.
âAnd ye still wonât share a bed,â Johnny rolled his eyes, âShameâmost couples aâleast start in the same room.â
You shook your head with a laugh, trying not to let the topic of conversation get under your skin.
You were bickering like a married couple. It was one thing to keep up the act when you were in public, around people who might recount what theyâve seen to the targets, but it was increasingly obvious that the make-believe was seeping into your real life.
Ghost was on your mind far more often than youâd care to admit. But now, rather than fantasies of lust and satin bedsheets, you were imagining him as the husband he was pretending to be.
Soap put a hand on your forearm when you reached into the bag of groceries again, silently reprimanding you for doing the unpacking, and taking on the job himself.
You thanked him and made your way to the staircase.
Simon followed you, and you turned to shoot him a curious look.
âDonât need attitude âbout my sleep clothes again.â He passed you on the stairs, and you sped up to meet him as he pushed the bedroom door open.
âDidnât realize you put your stuff back up here.â You watched him wrangle his duffel from beneath the bed.
âDidnât realize I needed to tell you.â Simon shot back, and you rolled your eyes.
âDoes this mean youâre going to stay up here tonight?â You pondered aloud.
âNo,â he answered simply, âFine on thâcouch.â
You nodded, slightly stung, but you could understand the awkwardness of the position youâd both been put in.
The room fell silent for a beat.
âDo you miss the mask?â
You thought back on his actions earlier in the day, when youâd watched his face morph in response to the conversation with Robert and Deb.
âI meanâŚyou seem kinda naked without it.â
âThink about me naked a lot?â Simon stood back up, smirking; a pair of sweatpants slung over his shoulder.
âJustââ you rolled your eyes. The answer was yes, often, but he didnât need to know that. âItâs weird seeing you without it for so long.â
âNot comfortable to âave it off, âfâatâs what youâre asking.â He sighed, and you nodded.
âDid you pack it?â
âNo.â He almost scoffed, but he seemed to catch himself when he realized that your question was genuine.
âAre you sure you want to take the couch again?â You broached the topic once more, âYou can sleep up hereâIâm fine with sleeping downstairs, instead ofââ
âStop,â his voice toed the line of superior rather than friend for a moment, âSâaâright.â
âOkâŚâ You mumbled in lieu of an apology.
âQuick thinking today,â his voiced turned softerâby his standards, at least. âImpressive.â
âDoes this make me a trophy wife?â You smiled, trying not to grow flustered by his praise. âMy skillful lies?â
He seemed to waver for a moment, brow creasing slightly as he thought.
âNoâŚâ He shook his head, turning to walk out of the room. ââAtâs not what does it.â
~~~
Simon struggled to feign interest in the discussion happening around him; the topic of conversation was just as showy as the country club itself.
Getting closer to the targets felt like a loss, despite the overall net gain.
The men who surrounded himâall with the same bland accents and unflattering polo shirtsâpushed him into the reality that he was an outsider, no matter who they thought he was or who he was pretending to be.
It wasnât often that he felt small, but there was a creeping isolation that came with undercover work. Though he tried not to let it get to him, Simon felt completely alien.
With golf clubs in hand, they spoke about absolutely nothing despite talking so incessantly, occasionally pausing to sip their beers.
Soapâs introductory explanation on how to properly hold a golf club had done little to assist in Simonâs actual gameplay, and he knew he mustâve looked downright miserable despite making an effort to remain upbeat.
That was never his forte, though.
He watched Robert swing his club against the green, and the loud thwack made Simon feel more comfortable; it didnât echo in the way a gunshot wouldâve, but it was a nice disruption from the tedium.
A young woman drove a cart over to the hole they were on, offering an array of concessions. When she left, slowly carting herself away, Robert let out a whistle.
âIf I were ten years youngerâŚâ He sipped his beer through a smarmy expression.
âWhat happened to age is just a number?â One of the other men chuckled, and Simon felt himself cringe. âI like them young, they should like me old.â
The other men laughed, clinking their bottles together. They looked at Simon expectantly, and he felt cornered in a way he had never felt before.
âMm?â He offered, running a thumb over his golf club.
âAh, câmon, Jimâwives ainât here. That girl a prize, or what?â One of them nudged Simonâs arm, and he tensed.
He convinced himself that it was pressure from his obligation; that his disgust at the notion of looking at another woman lay in the act he was attempting to put up, convincing those around him that he was a diligent husband.
But he knew the truth.
âBonnieâs all I need.â He forced a smile, trying to maintain a level of geniality.
âGive it ten years.â Robert smirked, and the others laughed.
The group of men moved on to the next hole, and Simon trailed behind them.
He already knew he hated these people. The things they did for profit, their willingness to allow everybody elseâs lives to go to shit for a few extra dollars in their accounts; it was enraging.
But this anger stemmed from something else, an unfamiliar frustration that blossomed in his chest.
You were enough for him. You always had been, you always would be, and how dare they think you werenât as perfect as he thought you were.
Not that you even needed to beâflaws and all, heâd take you over anybody; heâd choose you in a heartbeat every time.
For the mission, he reminded himself. For the mission.
~~~
Simon was active in gaining intel for several days in a rowâinfiltrating the inner circle, seeing what there was to see, hearing what there was to hear.
They trusted him enough to mutter when he was still nearby, and that was good enough, for now. Â
Simon had been so busy that you barely saw him, rarely encountered him when he wasnât on his way into or out of the house.
And the separation, for whatever reason, made you feel anxious. You worried that he was mad, despite the fact that there was no real interaction between the two of you in recent memory that wouldâve caused any conflict.
Maybe you had crossed a boundary that you hadnât realized was there; you had really been gunning for him to sleep in the bedroomâand with or without you there, he clearly had no interest in doing so.
But you kept pushing. You wanted to keep pushing.
You recognized that the anxiety probably stemmed from elsewhere, but you didnât want to acknowledge your feelings more than youâd already had to lately.
Now, though, you felt alright. Better than alright, even; you felt pretty, and, whatâs more, you felt eager.
It was just dinner, a meal with the targets; something that would hopefully see the culmination of Simon putting so much effort into gaining Robertâs trust. But the thought that went into your outfit, your daintily applied makeup, the inner turmoil of what you should do with your hairâit almost felt like a date. One you were excited about; one youâd call your mom to dish about at the end of the night.
You felt girlish; you felt thrilled; you told yourself it was for the mission.
The mission was what was making your heart bounce around in your ribs and your stomach flip with every step.
âLook at ye,â Soap whistled as you walked down the stairs in a dress that was only a bit less tweedy than the outfits youâd been wearing. âHot date planned, lass?â
You rolled your eyes.
âSomething like that.â
âWhoâs thâlucky guy?â
âMy husband.â You quirked a brow, a shy smile grazing your lips.
âWhereâs the man oâthe hour, then?â Soap chuckled.
âProbably fixinâ up his hair,â Gaz cut in, smirking, âNow that we can all see it.â
âPerfection takes time, Sergeant.â Simon inserted himself into the conversation, emerging from down the hall and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.
It was almost unnerving how good he looked.
Youâd become so used to seeing him in fatigues, in a full kit and a balaclava, that seeing him in anything else felt foreign. The past few days had remedied that, if only slightly, and though the outfit he wore now was similar to those heâd been wearing for the past few days, something felt different.
Maybe it was the tautness of the sleeves around his biceps, or the fact that there was no sweater vest in sight, or that heâd gelled his hair back enough to make it seem like he put effort into it without really doing anything at all.
Whatever it was, you swallowed thickly, and tried not to stare.
âChristâŚâ Soap huffed, a borderline sympathetic look on his face as he gave Simon the once over.
âNever seen a man this handsome, Johnny?â Simon smirked.
âNever seen a man this outta his depth.â Soap countered, laughing.
Simon didnât bother with a reply, grunting resentfully at Soap before turning to you and effectively shutting Johnny and Kyle out.
âWired?â
His voice was hushed, as if he intended on keeping the conversation a secret despite the fact that Soap and Gaz had already been more than clued in on what was happening.
You nodded, unable to ignore the sticky, tight feeling of the tape on your skin where youâd planted the wire.
You were worried you might sweat it off, but the dress had a tight bodice; you hoped that if the tape did come unstuck, the fabric would keep it in place.
âGood.â Was his only reply, and then he had his hand on your waist, ushering you out the door.
You tried to think of anything other than the way his palm fit so naturally with the curve of your body.
Simon didnât mind the perfect fit.
~~~
Dinner was nice, for lack of a better word. That was the only way you knew how to describe it; carb heavy and seasoned. It was better than anything you might get in the mess hall, and you didnât complain when Deb offered seconds.
The conversation, though, was dreary, and you had to pinch yourself to stay awake. There was something so uninteresting about the lives these people led, despite their involvement in such high-stakes business.
After what felt like ages of trying to seem intrigued by their vacation stories and fine china, Deb piped up with a new topic of discussion.
âRob just got the carâoh, what do you call it, baby?â She posed the question eagerly, anticipating a reason to brag.
âWrapped.â Robert shot her a smug look, equally as interested in showing off.
âHe got the car wrappedâitâs gorgeous!â Deb fawned over the thought of the newly done-up car.
âCost a fortune.â Robert rolled his neck, looking at Simon and searching for jealousy in his eyes.
âBut so worth it.â Deb swirled her glass of wine before taking a long sip.
âI bet.â Simon nodded slowly, not bothering with eye contact or compliments.
âWhy donât you show Jim, baby?â Deb swallowed the wine in her mouth before turning to Robert, âYou boys go out to the garage, leave us to our girl talk.â
âYes,â you tried not to seem too keen on her suggestion, exchanging a knowing glance with Simon. âThatâs a great idea.â
Simon smiled softly, a look that was meant only for youâfashioned so as to express understanding and gratitude.
And maybe something else.
He got up with Robert, following him to the garage.
~~~
âYou a big car guy?â Robert closed the door that connected the main house to the garage once Simon had made it over the threshold.
âNot particularly.â Simon shrugged; heâd never even had a car of his own.
âShould get into itâladies love it.â
âDo they?â Simon smirked.
âYouâd be surprised by how much a woman appreciates a nice set of wheels.â Robert laughed.
Simon bit his tongue; it was clear that this man knew nothing about womenâthen again, neither did Simon, so he just nodded through his doubts.
Robert smacked a hand down on the hood of the car. It was bright red, almost glittery, and Simon didnât understand why it was anything to brag about.
âSânice.â He offered, letting his eyes trail over the entire vehicle before looking back up at Robert.
âHope so. Cost a pretty fuckinâ penny.â
âYou mentioned.â Simon grunted, though he tried his best to make it seem lighthearted.
There was a pause then, and Simon waited to see if the conversation wouldnât move; he wanted to make sure he had Robert exactly where he wanted him.
He might not know women, but Simon knew a rat when he encountered one.
âHowâd you do it?â Simonâs tone bordered aloof; he let his gaze fall over the car once more, attempting to seem almost disconnected by his interest in the flashy color.
âWhat?â Robert leaned against the car.
âAfford it.â
âSaved up,â Robert sighed and picked his nails, âWorked for it.â
Simon nodded. âWhat was it you said you do fâwork?â
âIT.â Robert scoffed, eyes darting over Simonâs form.
He seemed impatient, somewhat antsy; either Robert was onto this sting, or he was about to spill.
âYâknowâŚI been thinking, Jim,â Robert spoke slowly, straightening up from his spot on the car to look Simon in the eyes. âDonât seem to be out of the house much unless youâre with me and the other fellas.â
âSolitary job,â Simon tilted his head, âNice house.â
âUh-huh,â Robert sucked his teeth for a moment before continuing. âYour wifeâs a real peachâreal prize.â
âShe is,â Simon felt the words slip from his mouth without thinking about it, âSheâs my everything.â
He barely heard himself, but he knew heâd said it, and he knew it was true, sham marriage or not.
âNever seem to wanna plant one on her.â
If only you knew, you bastard. Simon kept the thought to himself, rolling his eyes at himself; now wasnât the time.
âShy.â Simon offered.
âYou or her?â
Simon shrugged; he didnât care if his cover was blown now. He knew what was happeningâheâd been here before, plenty of times, and heâd be here again.
He was far from scared, despite the clear attempts of intimidation on Robertâs part.
Robert seemed comforted by Simonâs casual air; the lack of any obvious fear made him settle.
He returned to a more reserved, trusting state, and Simon could only infer that the grilling was a matter of initiationâa poor method to weed out those who werenât able to handle the truth.
âIâI like you, Jim,â Robert nodded, gaze glued to the floor and chin grazing his chest as he spoke. âI do.â
âIâm glad,â Simon grit his teeth. âHappy to have a friend in the area. Good start.â
Lure flies with honey, that was the saying. Simon was doing just that, however frustratingly slow-going it was.
âIf I show you somethingâtell you somethingâŚâ Robert seemed to ponder aloud, not quite looking at Simon as he spoke, his gaze now settled vaguely into the distance. âYou be able to keep a secret?â His voice was low, his tone almost sour.
âYeah,â Simon nodded, waiting. âSure.â
âSure,â Robert scoffed, âNeed a yes or a no.â
âYes,â Simon couldnât help the smirk that crept over his face now. âYes, I can keep a secret.â
âGood.â
Robert walked to the far wall of the garage. Simon watched on as he popped the lid off of one of the various paint cans that littered a shelf, digging around in it only to pull out a slip of paper.
Easy access: anybody couldâve reached in and found it. Further proof to Simon that these people had no clue what they were doing.
Robert handed the paper to Simon. It was obviously some sort of blueprint; an outline, incredibly amateur. But it was evidence of deeper plans.
A bomb of some kind, but messy and unfinished.
âWhatâsâis?â Simon feigned ignoranceâthe more Robert talked, the more a takedown was warranted.
âYou never seen a bomb before?â Robert furrowed his brow.
âWhatâs it for?â Simon pressed on.
âWhatâs with the questions?â Robert shot back.
ââUmor me.â
Robert exhaled slowly, huffing into the air as he walked around Simon, practically stalking him.
âYou wanna know how I could afford a car like that?â Robert laughed, gesturing to the garish car, âHow I can afford a wife like mine?â He paused, grabbing the paper from Simonâs hand. âItâs all money, Jimâjust without the trail.â
âWhat are you saying?â Simon was playing a little fast and loose now, but he was eager to get this over with.
âIâm saying,â Robert put the blueprint back into the paint can and sealed it shut again, âIf you say anything about this, Iâll gut you.â
Robert walked back over to Simon, putting his hands in his pockets.
âWhat?â Simon quirked a brow, trying desperately to keep his features under control as his lips threatened to curl upwards into a smile.
Suddenly, Robert lunged, and Simonâs back was against the wall; a small knife pressed to his throat.
He almost allowed himself the joy of kicking Robertâs ass, finishing this once and for all, but he knew better.
Instead, he just stared; this was far from a dire situation. Heâd had guns to his head and landmines underfootâa dull Swiss army knife was hardly comparable.
Still, he feigned shock, putting his hands up and freezing. Â
âYou tell me right now if this is something you donât think you can handle,â Robert was growling, âYou tell me right now if youâre gonna cry like a bitch about this to your wifeâyou hear me?â
âI hear you.â Simon swallowed, and the blade dug against his Adamâs apple.
âThis is bigger than you. This is something thatâll give people like us a leg up,â Robert rambled, âGive us everything.â
People like us. Simon missed his gun.
âSo youâre building a bomb.â Simon kept his voice above a whisper to ensure the mic picked it up.
âThatâs it.â Robert nodded.
âWhy?â
âStop with the fucking questions!â Robert was growing more agitated by the second, âYou wearinâ a wire?â
âWhy would I be wearing a wire?â Simon deadpanned.
âFuck!â
Rob dropped the knife from Simonâs throat for a brief moment to reset his grip as his palms grew sweaty, quickly replacing it with a bit more pressure.
âAlrightâalright. ListenâŚwe got connections. Ok? Down in Germany, in Britainâthatâs your neck of the woods, right?â
Robert smiled, as if adding humor to the situation would lessen the impact of holding a knife to Simonâs throat.
âGonna target the airports.â Robertâs eyes were dark, but deeply uncertain.
âThe airports?â Simon had a feeling that was comingâsame old tired story, same old awkward plan.
âMajor hubs in every country. Get to New York, Londonâguys in Germany can get this to Frankfurt,â Robert wiped his forehead with the back of his free hand, âNo movement through the big city hubs, harder to smuggle shit inâno competition.â
Christ. This was hardly worth the FBIâs time, let alone the Task Forceâs; these people had no idea what they were doing. This was the most hastily tacked together plan Simon had ever heardânot to mention completely batshit insane, and not at all logical.
âIn a year, weâll be rich. Get access to our own planesâdrones, weâll be the biggest cartel in the country.â
âRight.â Simon couldnât stop his voice from taking on an amused lilt.
âSoâŚyou in?â
~~~
âBlond, Britishâand heâs so tall!" Deb shook her head with a giggle. "You are one lucky girl.â
Once Simon had followed Robert out, you found that Deb was serious about the aforementioned girl talk.
Eagerly, she poked and prodded into your personal life. It wasnât as if you cared, but it was hard to keep your lies straight when you were faced with question after question.
At least she was tipsyâthat made it easier for you to get away with things on the off-chance that you slipped up.
âCanât complain.â Your face burned in response to the heaps of praise Deb lauded Ghostâs husband alter ego with.
âHowâd you meet him?â Debâs eyes went wide, and for a moment she looked so young, so excited. âWas it love at first sightâoh! I love that.â
She seemed to be filling in the blanks herself, and you played along.
âSomething like that, yeah.â You sighed.
Deb topped off your glass of wine, and you smiled.
In another lifeâmaybe the one where Simon had a German Shephardâyou thought you might be friends with Deb for real; you were in a book club together, you drank together on Saturdays and gossiped about the other families in town.
âThatâs so sweetâI love it. Love it!â She topped her own glass off. âHave you thought about kids? Got that nice big house now.â
âIâŚwe havenât really talked about itâŚâ
You yourself had never considered children an optionânot at the moment, anyway.
Maybe someday. Maybe when you retired; maybe if you found someone who understood all the nightmares and the adrenaline; maybe when the time was right, and the stars aligned, and you could trust yourself to properly hold an infant.Â
You dared, momentarily, to imagine Simon as a fatherâa father to your children. Chubby babies with his piercing gaze; fat little hands that grabbed at his nose, traced his scars.
Maybe you did want kids.
âHoney, itâs just us,â Deb leaned forward over the table, âIs heâŚyou knowâŚ?â
You stared blankly at her.
She sighed, almost giggling. âHe shooting blanks? Cause Robââ
You almost spat out your wine.
âNo! Noâno, itâs notââ You exhaled through a surprised smile, ââŚWe really just...havenât thought about it.â
âYouâre young,â Deb shrugged, âThereâs time.â
There was a pause as you both sipped your wine.
âSo,â she glanced up at you with a smirk, âHeâs good in bed, then?â
You looked at her like a deer in headlights. You tried to think of a lie, wondering if you could stall for time by chugging the wine in your glass.
âI meanâhe certainly looks it. You donât have to worry about me, but some of the women in this townâGod, theyâll be all over him if they get the chance.â Deb continued, her animated gestures threatening to spill the wine over the rim of her glass.
You felt a flare of unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Simon being interested in other women; of other women being interested in him.
âIâm not worried.â You lied, unsure of why it was a lie.
Deb leaned in even further, and you could see every eyelash where they connected to her eyelid.
âHe go down on you?â
Now, you did chug what was in your glass.
Before you had time to answer, Simon and Robert walked back into the dining room.
Something was wrong. Robert looked tense, but Simon seemed overly casual.
Simon was never casual.
âGrab yâcoat, love,â Simon tilted his head forward a bit, which struck you as odd, but you knew better than to question it. âSâget on our way.â
âOh,â you pouted, trying to make it seem as though you were disappointed to part from the other couple. âAlright.â
âThank you for having us,â Simon shook Robertâs hand, and maybe his grip was a little stronger than necessary. âWas lovely. Really.â
âCome back soon!â Deb stood, swaying a bit as she placed both her hands on Simonâs outstretched one, âThis was so fun.â
Robert said nothing, grunting a farewell as Simon shuffled you to the front door and out of the house.
You didnât like how silent he was being as he walked you to the car. It wasnât out of characterâhe was always quiet. But this silence seemed more anxious than anything.
You found your voice when you had gotten a good few yards from the house.
âJimâŚ?â
âSh.â Simon turned his face towards you, and it was then that you realized he was bleeding from a cut on his neck.
âJim.â You pressed on, uncertain about what to call him when you were in this strange limbo.
âShut up.â He hissed, opening the passenger door and all but pushing you in.
When he took his seat behind the wheel, you glared at him.
âLieutenant, youâre bleeding.â
âNot a word till we get home.â Simon was whispering.
Home. It almost felt real for a moment.
When you didnât respond, he grabbed your face to hammer his point in.
âGot it?â
You huffed at him, and he dropped his hand. For a split second, you were tempted to ask him to replace it; to continue to hold you, even in the slightly callous way, just because.
Instead, you turned to stare out the window as he put the car in drive.
~~~
The house was calm; the lights were off, and the only sound was the faint hum of the monitors scattered about. Everybody else had already gone to bed, that much was clear.
The stillness left you and Simon to yourselves, and you werenât sure whether or not that was a good thing.
Simon closed the door behind himself, stretching his shoulders back and undoing the top two buttons on his shirt.
âGot what we need.â He said simply, rolling his neck.
âWhyâd you get all paranoid back there?â You turned to him, your discontent with his demand for silence in the car overpowering your interest in what heâd uncovered.
ââAd to be certain.â
âAboutâŚ?â
âWeâre bugging âemâsânot crazy to think they might be doinâ the same to us.â Simon tilted his gaze down at you, and you sighed.
He had a point.
âYouâŚâ You eyed the nick on his throat with uncertainty. âYou got what we need?â
Simon nodded as he untucked his shirt and peeled the tape off the wire, âGotta make sure the mic picked it up.â
âYouâre bleeding.â You mentioned once more.
âSâfine.â
âLT.â
âEnough.â
You stared at each other, tense.
âLet me clean it, at least.â
âSânot necessary.âÂ
ââŚSimonâŚâ
âWhat?â
You hesitated, looking down at the floor before you could find the confidence to make eye contact.
You didnât want to come off as desperate.
âLetâsâŚletâs go upstairs,â you sighed, âLetâs listen to the tape, let me justâŚwipe it off.â You tilted your head at him, hoping he could see that this was important to you.
Not that you knew why it was so important.
He surrendered with a sigh, dropping his head and gesturing forward with his hands. You led him up the stairs.
~~~
You put the tape into the slot, hitting play before turning your attention to Simon.
He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread; heâd undone a third button on his shirt, and you tried not to ogle his chest.
Youâd managed to locate a first aid kit, but upon closer inspection of Simonâs scrape, all you really needed was Neosporin and a band aid.
You moved to stand between his knees, fingers drifting to his chin and encouraging him to tilt his head back as you began gently cleaning the scratch and applying the Neosporin.
âShallow.â You muttered, now clearly able to see that this was a nothingâsomething youâd talked up to yourself, thinking it would be more serious than it was.
He had been rightâit wasnât a big deal. But you still felt a weird obligation to patch him up, and there was a large chance that what compelled you to do so was the promise of being able to touch him.
âMm.â Simon grunted, and you could feel the vibrations move through his throat.
You fell silent, listening to the tape.
Your hands went shaky as you heard how Robert interrogated Simonânot that it was really grounds for any anxiety; Simon could hold his own just fine, and Robert clearly wasnât well versed in grilling someone.
âYour wifeâs a real peachâreal prize.â
âShe is. Sheâs my everything.â
You chanced a glance up at Simon upon hearing his words played back on the recording.
He was already looking back at you, and even without the mask, his face was unreadable.
He waved off your attempt to put a small bandage on his scratch, and even so, you found yourself reluctant to leave your place between his legs. So you stayed, and you listened back to the whole tape like that; him sitting on the bed, you standing awkwardly in front of him.
When the tape looped, you sighed, walking over to remove it from the slot. You found a safe space for it in your luggage.
âTold you.â He seemed smug, but you knew it was in jest. Â
You looked at him, rolling your eyes.
âYes, wellâthank you, LT.â
âDonât âave to be my wife anymore.â His words were sudden, and you felt a bit hurt by his apparent eagerness to be rid of this partnership.
Simon wasnât entirely sure why he said it. He spoke mostly out of disappointment; he liked having you as his wife, even if it was pretend.
He liked to have something tangible, something that proved he could do it, someday. He liked having you. And maybe, in his own, socially awkward way, he was trying to gauge your interest; look for indicators in your reaction to see if his affection for you was one-sided.
âItâs a shame,â you laughed nervously, âI was just getting used to it.â
He smirked, still looking at you.
âGlad you got what we needed,â you were suddenly very set on changing the subject. âDeb wouldnât talk about anything important.â
âGirl talk.â Simon echoed Debâs earlier sentiment with a barely-there smile.
âShe only cared about the kind of sex you and I have.â You winced as soon as you said itâso much for veering the conversation into less awkward territory.
âWhatâd you tell âer?â Simon seemed genuinely curious now, and you couldnât help but imagine what you wouldâve said to Deb had this been a real marriage.
âTold her itâs just pathetic missionary,â you smirked, âAnd I always fake it.â
Simon chuckled lowly, shaking his head.
âLetâs âear it.â
âWhat?â Your brow furrowed.
âTape,â he nodded to the tape player. âShowed you mine, yeah?â
âGhostââ
âNone oâthat,â he huffed, smirking. âCâmon.â
You hesitated, but did as he instructed.
There was a sick part of you that was somewhat eager to see what he would do when faced with the questions youâd been barraged with.
You managed to reach into the neckline of your dress, peeling the wire from your skin. You put the tape into the machine and hit play.
This time, you stayed next to the tape player, leaning against the wall and watching Simon.
You snuck glances at him while the tape played, alternating between keeping your gaze on the floor and letting your eyes dart up at him. It was so unimportantâsuch awkward lies told by your recorded voice.
But you wondered if he could see through it all.
When you heard Deb on the tape player asking whether Simon went down on you or not, followed by Simon and Robert re-entering the room, you popped the tape from the slot.
âSee?â You huffed as you tossed the tape into your luggage alongside the other one. âNothing important.â
âYânever answered âer.â Simonâs voice was low, almost hesitant.
âHm?â You looked up at him, confused.
âNever answered âer question,â he tilted his head back, eying you up in your entirety. âDo I?â
âYouâŚâ You felt warm.
âCâmon,â he smirked, âPart o'the backstory, yeah?â
âI donâtâŚâ You breathed, âI didnât think that far.â
âDâyou want me to?â
âTo think up a backstory about our sex life?â You scoffed.
âTo go down on you.â His voice was suddenly serious, and the low tone he had taken morphed from nervous to downright possessive.
You felt your heart flip, or maybe it was your stomach; your body felt too tingly to tell what was what anymore.
âIâŚâ You took a breath, nodding slowly. âYes.â
Simon exhaled audibly, maybe a sigh of pride. He clapped a hand down on his thigh, encouraging you to take a seat on his lap.
You practically tiptoed to him, perching yourself on his thigh and letting him wrap an arm around your waist. His other hand fiddled with the hem of your dress where it rested, just above your knee, and the subtle gesture made your pulse pick up.
He leaned in, not to kiss you, but to appreciate your proximity. You could feel his breath against your neck, your jaw; he paused just below your ear, pulling back to look down at you.
âLook pretty,â he muttered, âDonât think I told you âat yet tonight.â
âThank youâŚâ You found the confidence to bring a hand up to his collar, fiddling with the unbuttoned part of his shirt. You still couldnât look at him, not trusting yourself to remain collected beneath his gaze.
He smiled softly, bringing his fingers to your chin and tilting your face up to him.
âYou gettinâ shy on me, Mrs. Riley?â
You swallowed, unable to stop the way your eyelids fluttered in response to his touch.
âNo,â you sucked in a breath. âJustâdonât usually hear things like that from you.â
âYâlike it?â He quirked a brow, still smiling.
âYeah,â you nodded as best you could with his hand beneath your chin. âI do.â
âGood,â he nodded back at you. âSâgoodâŚDo it more often, then.â
There was a moment of incredibly charged silence between the two of you before he finally leaned in to kiss you.
It was slow, but eager; you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he slipped his tongue past your parted lips once youâd matched the pace of his movements.
You allowed yourself the same kind exploration, pushing your tongue against his, licking into his mouth just as he did to you. You let your spit mingle, breath turning heavy when Simon brought both of his hands to your waist.
You trailed your palms from behind his neck to his chest, running your hands over the bit of exposed flesh his semi-unbuttoned shirt allowed, tugging gently on the fabric. Simon let out a quiet groan, and it spurred you on; you dipped your fingers beneath his collar, grazing your nails over his skin.
His hands wandered over your back, finding the zipper on your dress and toying with it. You made a sound of approval, soft and breathy against his lips, as a go-ahead for him to strip you of the layer. He tugged the zipper down, and you let the top of the dress fall over your shoulders, exposing your front to him.
He didnât even look at your bare chest, too focused on pressing his mouth to yours. You, in turn, pushed your body against hisâa subtle gesture, one to encourage him to lie down, and it worked well enough; he leaned back on his forearms, breaking the kiss to admire you as you looked down at him.
âTake it off, sweetheart.â He reached a hand up to fiddle with one of the straps of your dress where it hung loose over your arm.
Somewhat reluctant to rise from his lap, so content with the closeness, you obliged nonetheless.
You let the fabric of the dress pool around your feet, leaving you completely bare, save for the basic panties you had on.
Simon looked unbelievably pleased as he drank you in.
âGot a damn good-looking wife.â He teased, sitting up and reaching out to run his hand over your side.
âYeah?â You looked down at him, responding in a similarly playful tone. âYour everything?â
âYeahâŚâ Simon glanced up at you, cold stare reduced to something more tender, though still serious, âYeah, âatâs right.â
You smiled softly, unsure of how to respond.
Simon busied himself, playing with the waistband of your underwear.
He hooked his fingers beneath the elastic and slid your panties down your legs, exposing your core to the temperate air of the bedroom. You stepped out of them, along with your dress, and waited with bated breath for his next move.
He gripped your thighs, enjoying the warmth of your body and the sight before him; you could feel his breath fan against your stomach, his eyes glued to your form.
âSit,â Simon commanded as he rose from his seat on the edge of the bed. âHere. Câmon.â
You took the spot where he had previously been sitting, pressing your thighs together and staring up at him with uncertainty.
With little hesitation, Simon moved to kneel before you, placing a hand on one of your knees.
âOpen.â
He seemed focused, determined, and the imbalance of his title and the fact that he remained fully clothed wasnât lost on you; it made your heart beat a little faster, head swimming with desire despite the as yet gentle, chaste touches heâd laid upon you.
You spread your legs for him, and he made a sound akin to a soft growl. He pressed a kiss to your knee before moving up your leg, nipping at the plush skin of your thigh and pulling breathy gasps from you as you watched him move further up your body.
By the time you could feel his breath fanning your bare cunt, you had grown impatient, fingers lacing in his hair and tugging gently as you combed through the strands. Simon huffed a shaky breath, glancing up at you with a look that verged a sneer.
âFuckinâ needy,â he whispered, and you could feel the displaced air around your body as he spoke, âUse yâfuckinâ words if you want it so bad, love.â
âSimonâŚâ You let your eyes flutter closed, letting the outline of him between your thighs fall in and out of focus, âPleaseâŚlike you said you would.â
âSay it.â He was demanding, desperate to hear the words fall from your lips.
âGoâgo down on me. Taste me. Just like you promised.â You felt pathetic begging for it, but you didnât really mind, given the circumstances.
You tried to keep your voice even, but the anticipation was killing you. He smirked, a subtle expression, as he leaned his face forward into your cunt.
âMan oâmy word.â He quirked a brow before all but diving into you with his tongue.
You inhaled a gasp, a choked sound that hit the back of your throat sharply. Still pulling gently on his hair, you spread your legs even wider, hungry for the feeling of his tongue on your cunt.
âFuckââ You couldnât find the words, content to offer brief curses of gratitude while he flicked his tongue over your clit.
He teased the bud, flattening his tongue over you before pulling back to delicately trace it with the muscle.
He wrapped his lips around you, sucking and applying pressure to varying degrees while occasionally letting his teeth threaten to close around you. It offered a sort of sinful thrill; the suspense of whether or not heâd really bite down made your back arch as you watched him.
When he pulled his mouth off of your clit, he licked a stripe up your slit before using his tongue to tease your entrance, slowly tracing your hole before pushing into you.
Simon looked drunk off you; eyes closed and groaning softly as he licked into the warmth of your cunt. He collected your slick, swallowing it as if it were a sort of heavenly ambrosia.
âChrist,â Simon pulled back for a moment, bringing a hand down to your core and spreading the messy combination of spit and slick around, admiring how you glistened. âFuckinâ soaked, sweetheart, lookât you.â
You bucked your hips with a whimper when he swiped over your clit, and he growled at the reaction.
âYou need more?â He looked so smug, âGive you a finger, see âow much you can take?â
âYes.â You breathed the one-word response, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes.
He growled at your enthusiasm, removing his hand to lick one more stripe up your cunt before pressing his middle finger to your hole and slowly pushing in.
âFuck,â he muttered, entranced by the way you wrapped around the digit, âSo fucking tight.â
He thrust his finger down to his knuckle, curling the digit upwards and letting it dance over your most tender spot.
You whined, reaching for his wrist and lazily tugging at it.
â'At'sâit,â he finally tore his gaze from your cunt, âYou enjoying yâself, sweetheart? You feel nice?â
âSimon IâIâm gonna cum.â You gasped as he leaned forward again to press his tongue to your clit.
âNah, no youâre not,â Simon shook his head with a smirk, âGonna give yâanotherânot fair âf my girl only gets to cum on one finger, yeah?â
You just mewled, letting your body fall back onto the mattress and raising your hips in submission.
Simon pressed kisses to your inner thigh as he pulled his hand back, giving himself the space to push another finger into you. He followed the same pattern, curling them up against your g-spot, sucking eagerly on your clit and watching you squirm from the stimulation.
âStill wanna cum fâme, sweet girl?â The thrust of his fingers slowed, focusing all of his energy on your sweet spot, twisting his wrist to amplify the squelch of your cunt. âWanna show me 'ow this pretty cunt can squeeze me nice ânâtight?â
âYeâes,â you sighed, âSimon, just likeâlike that.â
âRight âere, yeah?â Simonâs gaze darted between your face and your core, as if he couldnât decide which view was prettier. âCâmon, loveâright on my 'and like this, lemme taste it.â
He brought his mouth down to you again, sucking down hard and speeding up the pace of his fingers again. He made a point to nudge your delicate spot every time, in sync with the pressure he put on your clit.
Your back arched, writhing in pleasure under him and letting your orgasm consume you all at once; it was white-hot, a culmination of your longing for him, coupled with the speed at which heâd let his walls down and allowed you the pleasure of having him.
Your legs trembled, muscles tensing rhythmically as you gasped through your high and the shivered aftershocks.
âLookât âat,â Simon groaned, still nestled between your legs, âFuckinâ perfect, sweetheart.â
You reached down to comb your hand through his hair. When he continued lapping at your slick, nose nudging your clit and refusing to let up until the experience bordered overstimulation, you yanked lightly at the strands between your fingers.
âRight,â he sighed, allowing you to pull him away from your core and placing kisses on your inner thigh instead. âCanât get enough, love.â
âHardly an issueâŚâ You mumbled, staring down at him with your lust-blown eyes, cheeks flushed.
He continued to nip at the skin of your legs, alternating between each of your thighs and occasionally pulling away to admire the subtle marks his teeth left on you.
It gave you enough time to recover from your release. But just as soon as the heat in your core began to quell, you were hit with a fresh ache between your legs, amplified by his breath fanning your skin and the position he remained in, so close to where you still wanted him.
âSimonâŚâ You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him properly.
He managed to tear himself away from you, replacing his mouth with his hands and pressing his palms soothingly against the tops of your thighs as he analyzed your expression.
He didnât respond, staring up at you expectantly and waiting for you to continue.
âGive me more.â Your voice didnât falter now, well aware of what you wanted and what you hoped to receive.
âYou givinâ orders now, sweetheart?â He chuckled lowly, letting his fingers press a bit harder into the plush flesh of your thighs.
âNot as your subordinate,â you smiled shyly, âAs your wife.â
You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to read his expression; his eyes seemed to darken just as much as his smirk widened.
ââŚPlease?â You added in an effort to get him to respond, whether it be verbally or physically.
âSâright,â he nodded, âKnew my wife âad better manners 'an my Sergeant.â
You laughed softly at his words, appreciating the uncharacteristically lighthearted approach he seemed to be taking.
But he cut your giggles off, forcing you to replace them with a gasp as he grabbed you by the ankles and stood.
âYâwant it like this?â He practically cooed, though his voice was sweet to a mocking degree, âLemme fuck you out while you lay âere?â
He rested your legs on his chest, positioning himself in a more than suggestive manner as he pressed his hips to the back of your thighs.
âSâat what you want, love? Or did you want me to bend yâover?â He let your legs fall, leaning over you so that he was close enough to let his nose press against your cheek. âTreat my sweet wife like a fuckinâ whoreâŚâ
Your mouth felt dry, breath hitching in your throat at the apparent promise he was making to treat you as gently or as roughly as you deemed fit.
âYouâŚâ You felt lost for words, turning your face and letting your nose bump his. âBend me over.â
âWhatever you want, sweetheart,â he breathed his words softly. âCanât leave my girl wanting.â
He left feather-light kisses over your jawline, maneuvering his hands under you to haul you up and flip you onto your stomach. You let out a soft grunt, content to allow him to manipulate your form and position to his liking.
âChrist, âatâs a sightâŚâ Simon ran a hand over the curve of your ass after heâd helped you settle, his calloused fingers rubbing roughly against your softer flesh.
You laughed softlyâat the gesture, at his words. There was comfort in knowing him this way; in seeing the man with the mask fall out of his stoic demeanor and into something so much more gracious and inviting.
You pushed back against his hand, chasing the heat and weight of his palm and whining slightly as you became impatient at his lack of action.
Simon tsked softly, now using both hands to knead your ass.
âGave yâwhat you wanted, love,â he gave your ass a light smack, and your whine caught in your throat. âLend me some patience, yeah? Wanna admire whatâs mine.â
The sheer avidity in his voice, the quiet tone in which his possessive words spilled out, made you exhale a dreamy sigh as you surrendered to his touch.
You stretched your arms out in front of you on the mattress, resting your head on your bicep and letting your eyes drift closed.
Simonâs breath was hot against your skin, and there was a moment where you wondered if he was going to ignore your pleas and instead use this time to go down on you againânot that you would complain, but it was amusing to think that a man so tough in stature could be so easily pussy whipped.
Instead, though, after what felt like ages of him simply sweeping his hands over your body, kneading your flesh and pressing open-mouthed kisses to the back of your thighs, he seemed to vanish from behind you.
You emitted a quiet whimper in confusion, craning your neck in an attempt to look back at him from where you lay spread out on the mattress.
Simon shushed you softly, pressing his hand to the small of your back.
âNot leavinâ you,â he spoke gleefully through a growl, thrilled by your need for him. âBut I canât fuck you with my trousers done up, sweetheart.â
You nodded lazily, listening to him unfasten his pants and pull his cock from its confines.
The waiting was the worst part; you had already done so much waiting for him in the time that youâd known him.
Still, the building suspense was oddly delicious, forcing your body to acknowledge that you would finally, finally, be getting what youâd been craving.
You whined when Simon finally offered more contact, placing his cock between your ass cheeks and rocking his hips.
He was heavy against you, and the warm, smooth skin of his length urged a new flood of arousal throughout your body.
You could feel the fabric of his pants rub against the back of your thighs, and you subconsciously pushed yourself back towards him to chase the implication of his power.
âGonna go nice ând slow fâyou, love.â Simon moved, fisting his cock and aligning himself with your entrance.
You sucked in a breath. âDonât have toâŚâ
âCanât go breakinâ my wife in 'alf.â He answered frankly, and you wanted to point out his ego in the moment, but as his cockhead nudged your hole, you forgot all about chastising him.
âSimonââ
âEasy, sweetheartâŚâ Simon sunk into you slowly, as heâd promised; his hands guiding your hips backwards onto him. âJusâ take what I give you.â
You let out a shaky breath when he bottomed out, mewling softly into the bedspread as you grew accustomed to the intrusion of his cock inside you.
ââEre you go,â he groaned, looking down to get a proper eyeful of your cunt wrapped snugly around him. âFeel nice, sweetheart?â
âYâeah,â you kept your face buried in the comforter, the pleasure of the stretch absolutely overwhelming. âSâso goodâŚâ
âI know.â Even with your back to him, you knew he was smirking.
He pulled out quickly, eager to get it over with so that he could bury his cock back inside of you. He thrust back into you just as fast, swallowing a moan as he was hit with the pleasure that was being hugged by the warmth of your cunt.
âFuck,â he swallowed a moan, tossing his head back, âSuch a fuckingâyou got the most perfect cunt, sweetheart. Made fâme.â
âFor you,â you moved your head, tilting your face up in a poor attempt to look at him behind you. âFor you, Simon.â
ââAtâs right.â His grip seemed to tighten on your hips, possessive to the point of leaving his fingerprints on your skin.
Maybe it was the way you said his name with such fierce desire, undercut only by your quiet whimpers; maybe it was your murmured promise: for him, and only him. Something about thisâabout youâhad him completely at your beck and call, no matter what the reason.
He moved one of his hands to press against the top of your back, pushing you down and forcing your back to arch.
âWhat a pretty fuckinâ picture,â his thrusts were growing sloppy in the midst of his enjoyment, and he reeled himself in slightly as he spoke. âSo easy to fuck you out, sweetheartâlittle slut of a âousewife, you are.â
The position allowed him to fuck into you deeper, his cock pounding your cervix with every thrust of his hips.
You gripped the bedspread, desperate to ground yourself in the haze of such intense bliss.
âSimonâ,â you felt your eyes roll back as you tried to maintain a level of composure so that you could get your words out. âSo fuckingây-youâre so deep, Simon.â
âYeah, you say my fucking name,â he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your shoulder. âYou let everyone âear whoâs nice ânâdeep in your pretty cunt.â
âSâimon!â You heeded his request, though you needed no instruction.
He straightened up, and his speed steadily increased.
You felt a heady sort of pleasure that traveled throughout your body and all but turned off your brain. Babbling, you reached back for him as best you could.
âWhat dâyou need, sweet girl?â Simon took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your palm. ââM right âere.â
ââŚSee youâŚâ you tried to verbalize your want. âWannaâsee you.â
Simonâs hips slowed, stilling inside of you as he took in your request.
âYou wanna see?â He wasnât asking as if heâd misheard; he was teasing, drawing the scenario out before he inevitably gave into you. âWanna watch yourself get fucked, love? Act like a whore while I treat you like one?â
You moaned in lieu of any real response, nodding against the mattress.
âPrefer to see my face, or my cock?â He queried, once again leaning forward to press kisses to your shoulder.
For some reason, although the latter option was absolutely something youâd like to seeâa front row seat, watching him fuck you senselessâyou felt yourself much more eager to watch him; to view the pleasure on his face as a mirror of your own enjoyment.
You wanted a domestic level of intimacy, something filthy but so pure, in its own right.
âLet me see your face, Simon,â you whined, âPlease.â
He let out a sharp breath, not quite a laugh but in the same realm.
âHoping youâd say âat.â Simon slid his hands down your body to grab your waist, using his grip as leverage to slowly pull himself out of you.
You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, and he stroked his palm over your back in an apparent effort to soothe you.
âCâmon. Sâget you up.â He squeezed your sides, encouraging you to flip over onto the mattress.
Just as you settled onto your back, Simon moved away, dropping himself onto the bed and patting his thigh.
You turned to face him as best you could, still hazy with lust, and shot him a curious look.
âCome sit, sweetheart,â he smirked down at you, âWanna see how you look bouncinâ on my cock.â
You smiled, âYou just want me to do all the work.â
âPromise no wife oâmineâs gonna be left wanting,â Simon quirked a brow at you, leaning forward to coax you over to him. ââLess yâkeep talking back like âat.â
You fell into his arms, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You rolled your hips against his cock, the zipper and fabric of his pants biting gently at the flesh of your ass as you made yourself comfortable.
âAll the work,â Simon huffed, reaching between your bodies to align himself with you again; you lifted your hips to provide the necessary space. âKinda shit husband dâyou think I am?â
âYouâfuckââ Any retort youâd had planned was immediately subdued when he pushed you down onto his length, one hand on your hip while the other splayed out over your ribcage to keep you balanced on top of him.
âCan you manage, sweetheart?â He was teasing again, taunting you as you tried to compose yourself by pressing your hands onto his chest.
âItâŚâ you breathed, refamiliarizing yourself with the stretch of his cock nestled deep inside of you. âSimonâŚâ
You rocked your hips slowly, grinding down on him and letting him open you up; enjoying the tingling pressure of having him buried in your cunt.
âWhatâsâat?â He reached up, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.
âIââ you kissed the pad of his thumb, gaze drifting down to his face. âI love it.â
Simon grit his teeth, pushing his thumb between your lips and letting his jaw fall open when you began to suck eagerly on the digit.
âYeahâŚâ His eyes drifted from your face to your figure, his free hand rubbing up and down your side as he began to pull you back and forth over him.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, trailing the wet digit over your nipples and watching them pebble before he placed the hand on your thigh, his other hand still rubbing over your side.
Your head fell back, breath coming out in short puffs. His control was easy, comfortable to be under, and the occasional twitch of his fingers when he felt you clench around his cock was something you could get used to.
When youâd become accustomed to the position, you used your hands on his chest as resistance to push yourself up and down on his length.
âFuckinâ hell, sweetheartâlookât âatâŚâ Simonâs voice was raspy, chest heaving as he watched you bounce your hips over his cock. âPretty cuntâs making a fuckinâ mess on me.â
You chanced a glance down, craning your neck to get a proper look at his cock as it disappeared into you.
He was rightâit was messy; slick and wet, you coated him with your arousal. You could feel the stickiness between your thighs and under your ass when you ground yourself down against him.
Simon tsked, reaching up to wrap a hand loosely around your throat, refocusing your attention on his face.
âSaid you wanted tâsee my face, love,â he smirked up at you, forcing the smug look as best he could through the daze of having you ride him. âYou fuckinâ look at me, then.â
You moaned, eyes fluttering closed at the way his fingers felt around your neck before you quickly opened them to stare down at him.
He dropped the hand from your throat, but it stayed on your skin, roaming your body and exploring every dimple and curve of you.
âPerfect,â he was muttering to himself now, admiring you in a way that felt so unfamiliar but so natural to the both of you. âYouâre fucking perfect. My sweet girlâfuckinâ incredible.â
You whined, feeling as though you could cry.
His actions were one thing; his touch, the way he raised his hips to meet you, chasing the warmth of your cunt and burying his fingers into your flesh. But the words he spoke, the tenderness you were receiving from such a typically cold manâone youâd yearned for, one youâd assumed would never reciprocate your hunger for a decent touch, a kissâmade you feel a sweeping sense of pride; a sort of validation that made your ears warm and your heart stutter happily.
It was almost too much, and you could feel the spring in your abdomen tense in the same way the muscles in your thighs did as the exertion of riding him became more than a little tiring for you.
But Simon knewâintuitive to a frightening degreeâand as your hips stuttered above him, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a hand to your back and coaxing you to curl against his chest.
âSo good, sweetheart,â he mumbled into your hair, arms still wrapped around you as he bucked his hips. âPerfect little wife, did your best, yeah? Ridinâ me so nice, let me put in the work now, right?â
You whimpered into the crook of his neck, relishing in the way he used your cunt like a toy for himself; hands moving to your hips to keep you steady, he fucked into you at a much faster pace, but the comfort you found lying on his chest was unparalleled.
When he pushed you down a bit rougher, letting the head of his cock punch into your cervix and making you let out a mewl of pained contentment, your jaw went slack. You felt drool pooling beneath your cheek and over the shoulder of his shirt.
Simon all but laughed when he felt the damp spot on his shirt, craning his neck to smile at you as he slowed the pace of his thrusts enough to reach up and tug you back gently by the hair. He forced your gaze on his, letting his voice take on a sweet, taunting lilt.
âWhat would the ladies in the neighborhood say if they saw you dirtying my clothes like this?â He cooed, pushing his cock into you so slowly that you could feel your walls moving, contorting to take the intrusion inch by inch. âSoaking my pants ând droolinâ on my shirt? What would they think, sweetheart?â
âProbably beâbe jealousâŚâ you sighed, the angle and his slow movements creating the perfect storm to properly stimulate the spot on your front wall while your clit dragged over the base of him. âProbably want you just as bad as I do.â
âFuck âem,â Simon growled, voice coming out almost hoarse as he spoke, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. âOnly want you.â
Suddenly he was burying his face into your chest, mouthing at your breasts and offering deep, fast thrusts up into you.
You cried out, clawing at his shoulders as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him and press yourself against him.
âPretty thing,â Simon moved to look back at you. âOnly want my wife. Only need you, sweet girl.â
âSimonââ You could feel the lust reach a fever pitch, the spring in your abdomen threatening to unfurl completely.
âI know, sweetheart,â he was panting, putting all of his effort that wasnât focused on fucking you into responding to your moans. âCâmon ând give it to me. I got you, lemme âave it.â
It was almost pleading, the way his words came out, and it only served to push you over the edge.
You felt a deep seated tingle, muscles spasming and stomach tightening as a soft, needy gasp of his name escaped your lips.
You felt electric, charged and satisfied, slumping into Simon and letting yourself free-fall into the warmth that bloomed from your core around his cock.
âFuck, âatâs it,â Simon moaned beneath you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as his hips stuttered feverishly, chasing your release in an effort to find his own. âTalk to me, sweetheart, gottaââ
âInside,â you breathed, already anticipating the question and dead set on your answer. âInside me, Simon. Please.â
He groaned, head falling back and eyes squeezing closed; wanting to draw out the pleasure of being inside of you, if only for a moment longer.
âIâll give it tâyou, love, Iâfuck, lemme see you. Show me âat pretty face. Wanna see my wife when I fill âer sweet fuckinâ cunt up.â
You pushed yourself up, immediately obliging.
Pressing your forehead to his, noses brushing, he captured you in a brief but bruising kiss before pulling back to admire you above him.
âFuckââere you go, my pretty fuckinâ girl,â his eyes were heavily lidded, his gaze plastered to you, hungry and triumphant but so soft. âJusââChristââ
Simon met his high with a grunt, thrusting lazily into you and coating your walls with his spend.
You whimpered, melting into him once more; listening to the way your breath fell in sync with his; appreciating the warmth of his release inside of you.
Simon sighed, splaying a hand over your back and tracing shapes on your skin.
After a moment of tranquil silence, he reached for your hips and carefully eased you off of him, both of you making quiet sounds of discontent.
Just as soon as you were off of him, though, you curled into his side, slinging a leg over him and pressing your face to his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, tugging you against him in a manner that made you feel like you were made to be there, flush against him.
âIâm gonna ask you one more time, Simon,â you spoke softly, but there was already a level of playfulness returning to your tone. âDo you wanna sleep up here tonight?â
You felt him huff a breath, laughing at your question.
âDoes the bed come with the woman?â He tilted his face to look down at you.
âUp to youâŚâ You held your breath, though you were unsure why; at this point, it seemed clear that he wanted you around, that he was just as eager to share space with you as you were with him.
âIâll stay, sweetheart,â his other hand came up to toy with your hair. âBe a damn shame to make you sleep alone, Mrs. Riley.â
âWhat a doting husband.â You rolled your eyes, but you released the breath youâd been holding.Â
âDonât you forget it.â He tugged playfully on a strand of your hair, and you squeaked, swatting at him just as impishly.
~~~
By habit, you woke up early.
The room was quiet, bathed in a blanket of hazy sunlight that poked in through the curtains.
You didnât remember falling asleep, so intent on staying up and appreciating Simonâs presence next to you in this brand new, exceedingly pleasant way.
But now that you were awake, you could enjoy it again.
His arms were still wrapped around you, soft breath fanning the top of your head as you lay tucked into his chest.
Sometime during the night heâd stripped down to match your level of nudity, and you trailed a finger over his bare shoulders, admiring him. You couldnât help but press a kiss to his skin, warming your lips with the heat that radiated from him.
He stirred slightly, grunting as he tugged you further against him. He placed a kiss to the top of your head before falling back asleep, and you closed your eyes, happy to join him.
Covert operations were awkward. Not this one, though.Â
Warnings: war (I feel like thatâs a given), gun shot wound, clean up of an injury
Pairing(s): Simon âGhostâ Riley x f!reader
Word count: 7.3k
Notes: your code name is âPhoenixâ and Soap has a wife and kid
a/n, might do a part two to this, but it's not necessarily needed. pls lmk if you want another part! if enough people want another part, then I'll do one. Until then, enjoy!
Summary: After Graves betrays the team, everyone is split up. You manage to escape with Soap, but he has some bad news: Ghost is no where to be found. Determined to not leave him behind, you venture out into the corrupt town with nothing but fear and a pocket knife. But, of course, something always has to go wrong.
Driving up to the base, you can feel something is wrong as the car comes to a stop. You turn to Ghost sitting in the driverâs seat, but his eyes are drawn to the situation at hand. You turn back, seeing Graves and the other Shadows exit the vehicle. Everyone else has the same idea, including you and Ghost.
âWhatâs this?â Alejandro asks, pointing at Graves with confusion. You turn to Ghost and he looks at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. âThis is the immediate future,â Graves replies. âStep away from the gate.â Two Shadows exit the back of the vehicle you and Ghost were in. They both stand behind the two of you, weapons in hand. Ghost looks over his shoulder, and back to you, and you could tell he was aware something was about to go down. Something was definitely wrong. âWhat?â Soap asks, walking up behind Alejandro, eyes trained on Graves. âYou heard me,â Graves says in a monotone voice. âYouâre crazy,â Alejandro claims with a shrug. âThis is my base.âÂ
âItâs not a base. This is a sizeable convert facility and I admire it,â Graves says with slight amusement in his voice. âSo, Iâm taking it. You all have been relived. Thank you for your service.â Immediately, Alejandro takes a step closer to Graves. You could feel your heart racing now, not sure how this was going down, nor what Gravesâ intentions were. âNo, I donât take orders from you.â You could also feel the anger radiating off of Alejandro. Ghost was pissed too, his body tense and ready for any violence about to take place. âDidnât Valeria say that? Now that makes me wonder what else I donât know about your affiliation with a drug-lord.â Alejandro looks back at Soap with a chuckle and steps forward. âWhat the fuck did you just say to me, pendjo..?âÂ
Soap grabs Alejandroâs shoulder before he could do anything. âYouâre out of line, Graves,â Soap speaks up. âThis is ridiculous!â You yell from the side of the car, Ghost eyeing you, and a Shadow behind you taking a tiny step forward. âDonât do that. Donât.. do that.â Graves points to you and Soap. âNo one needs to get hurt here.âÂ
âAre you threatening us?â Asks Ghost, his voice echoing through the dead of night. âSolider, I donât make threats. I make guarantees. So letâs not do this.âÂ
You scoff and throw your hands in the air, walking toward Alejandro and Soap. Eyes locked on Graves, you shake your head. âYouâre a disgrace to the army, Graves. Iâm calling Shepherd.â Turning your back, you begin to walk back to Ghost and the car.Â
âGeneral Shepherd sends his regards.âÂ
You stop dead in your tracks, eyes widening and now on Ghost. He tilts his head slightly, hand on his side and very close to his pistol. âHe told me yaâll wouldnât take this well.âÂ
âHe knows about this?â Ghost asks in disbelief as you turn around to face Graves yet again. âYaâll need to stand down. Itâs time to let the pros finish this. And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? Itâs not. Iâve got my orders, and now you have yours.â Ghost goes to walk up to you, but a Shadow grabs his shoulder, holding him in place. You take note of this.Â
âAnd who the fuck do you think you are, cabrĂłn?â Raising his voice, Alejandro points to his base. âMy men are inside!âÂ
âIâm afraid not,â Graves smiles. âYour men have been.. detained.â
Angry and betrayed, Alejandro lunges toward Graves but a Shadow stops him, throwing him against the car and knocking him out with the end of his gun. They zip tie his hands, leaving him trapped. âGraves, what the fuck?!â You yell, as Soap retreats from the gun fire. He grabs a Shadow to use as a body shield. Ghost elbows the shadow behind him, as you grab you side gun and spin, shooting the one behind you. Ghost throws a knife at a Shadow too close for comfort, and grabs your wrist, throwing both you and him to the floor for cover.Â
Graves shoots the Shadow Soap was using as a shield, catapulting him to the ground. You could see him from the other side of underneath the car, scrambling for his gun and injured. âGo to Soap,â Ghost says to you, but you scoff. âNo, why would I leave you?â
âHeâs injured, Iâm not. Go Phoenix! Thatâs an order.â
âSir-â
âGo.â
Scoffing yet again, you crawl behind the car and up to Soap, helping roll the guy off and helping him up. Ghost follows behind, the red tail light of the car illuminating his mask. âGo, now! Both of you, get out of there.âÂ
âGhost-!â
âY/n, now!â
Panting, you look at Soap as he grabs your hand and leads you to the woods. Hesitant, you follow. You both slide down the slippery slope, as gun fire follows. âFuck,â Soap hisses, holding his side. Then, nothing but silence.Â
Minutes turn into hours as you and Soap find an empty house to hold up. âWhat the fuck is going on?â You ask, running your hands through your hair, as Soap grunts, sitting down on the nearest chair. He doesnât respond, but keeps trying comms, as he has been for the past two hours. Yours had been destroyed by the gunfire.Â
âThis is Bravo 7-1 in the blind along with Phoenix.. How copy?â Silence.
âStill nothing?â You ask. He shakes his head. âIâm starting to lose hope,â he chuckles. But heâs not joking at all.Â
All of a sudden, static is heard from his radio. âBravo 7-1 this is Bravo 0-6, how copy?â Your eyes widen along with Soapâs, and you smile widely. âPrice, thank god. Weâre alive, Iâm with Phoenix.â
âLovely to hear. Spoke to Laswell, Shepherdâs off the grid. Weâll speak more when my evac team comes to pick you up. Weâre five minutes out.â Soap lets out a sigh of relief but youâre a little more guarded.
âSir,â you start, directed toward Price. âWhat about the others? Alejandro was taken and Ghost.. well, we donât know where he is. We need to look for him.â
âNegative, Phoenix. Iâm sending an evac team, not a rescue squad. Iâm afraid theyâre on their own.â You scoff and look at Soap. He looks down.
âThatâs bullshit!â
âI donât like it anymore than you do, Iâm all for no man left behind. But we need to be in good shape if weâre going to save the others.â
âThey wonât make it if we donât start a rescue mission now,â you hiss. âPhoenix-â Soap starts, but you ignore him. âNo, I wonât do it. I wonât leave them behind. Price, if not now, when is the next evac chopper available?â He pauses for a brief second before answering you. âNot for another week, Phoenix. With Shepard off the grid, weâre low on supplies and men⌠two minutes out. Weâll talk when my team gets to you, over and out.â You turn to Soap and shake your head with a sigh. He speaks up. âY/n, Ghost is not answering comms. We have no idea where he is, and evac is about to be here. We have to go.â You shove Soap lightly, remembering heâs injured and run your hands over your face due to stress. âNo way in hell, Soap! Iâm not leaving him!âÂ
âPhoenix-â
âHeâs our lieutenant- fuck that, heâs our friend! Itâs Simon for fucks sake! Iâm not leaving him!â Youâve never called Ghost by his real name before. Soap knows youâre serious. âI donât want to leave him either but another evac chopper wonât be available for another week! You heard Price. I have a wife and kid at home, and our chances out here for another seven hours, let alone seven days, is slim to none. You and I both know it.â You give Soap a death stare as you both hear the evac chopper approach. You understand where heâs coming from, and if you were in the same situation, perhaps you wouldâve made the same choice.Â
But you werenât. No one was waiting for you at home. Your only family was Task Force 141.Â
âThen Iâll take my chances. Iâm going after him.âÂ
Sighing, Soap nods and grabs your shoulders. âPlease be careful. Between the Shadows and the weather.. I mean, itâs pishin a doon out here.âÂ
â..English, MacTavish.â
âItâs raining fucking hard.â You chuckle at the voice change and grab his hand on your shoulder. âIâll see you in a week, Johnny,â you yell, due to the chopper landing. Before boarding the chopper, Soap takes out his comms and hands it to you. âSo you can stay in touch with us all, and potentially find Ghost.â You nod at him, symbolizing a âthank you.â Soap grabs Priceâs hand to get on the chopper and turns back to you. âBe safe Y/n.âÂ
You salute both him and the Captain, and watch them fly away to safety. Taking a deep inhale, you set off to the town to find your lieutenant. âGhost, itâs Phoenix? Do you copy?â Silence, yet again. âFuck,â you whisper. You walk into the town, and instantly hear a bunch of Shadows along with gunfire and screams. With only fear and a pocket knife, you make your way into an empty home, searching for anything and everything that could help increase your chances of survival. And, of course, finding Ghost.Â
âSoap? Phoenix? How copy?â
His deep voice in your ear startles you, but you donât hesitate to respond. âGhost! Fuck, I thought I- we lost you.âÂ
âCanât get rid of me that easily, Phoenix. Whereâs Johnny?â
âHe left,â you say. âPrice and his evac team arrived and Soap went with them.âÂ
âWhy didnât you go too?âÂ
âGuess I just canât live without you, Lieutenant.âÂ
Ghost pauses before replying with a question. âYou stayed behind to look for me?â
âAffirmative.âÂ
âWrong choice, soldier.â
âWeâll talk about that when I see you, sir. For now, let me just get to you. Where are you?â
âThe church on the north side of town. Shadow activity is silent.â
âSilent? Where are they all?â
âHell.â
You chuckle at Ghostâs comment. âIâm coming to you, sir. Just stay where you are, I think Iâm close to the north side of town.â Ghost doesnât reply, mainly because you donât give him a chance to. âAre you okay?âÂ
âIâm alive,â he replies. âYou?â You smile to yourself, making your way through the houses as a way to cover yourself from being too much in the open. âIâm alive,â you say, repeating his words.Â
Walking in the town surrounded by enemies didnât seem to bad now that you had Ghost to guide you. You two had never really gotten a chance to know each other. That was mainly because of the fact that he was laid back and silent half of the time.
âTwo goldfish are in a tankâŚâ
âWhat?â He repeats himself, word for word. âGo on..â
âOne turns to the other and says, âYou know how to drive this thing?ââ You chuckle and shake your head, though you know he canât see you. âLittle army humor.â
âVery little.â
âWe can do this all night, L/n.â
âThatâs what Iâm afraid of, sir.â And you swear, for the first time ever, Ghost actually laughs. Well, maybe it was more of a chuckle, but that counts. You made Ghost laugh. Thatâs a win in your book. You canât wait to tell the rest of your team. âLocation?â He asks, distracting you from your thoughts. âIâm in the coffee shop.â
âGet us a tea, yeah?â
âTequila sounds better right about now.â
âIâd murder for a whisky.â
âYou mean scotch?â
âI drink bourbon.â
âLike a good boy.â Heâs silent now, and you cringe the second the words come out of your mouth. âSorry sir, that wasââ
âAlways have confidence, L/n. Donât apologize for speaking. If you say bourbon means Iâm a good boy, then I guess I am.â You smile to yourself and walk out of the shop, not forgetting to grab a few more supplies on the way out. After a couple moments you say, âYouâre gonna owe me for this.â
âWhy?â
âWeâre fixing each otherâs problems.â
âWhatâs my problem?â
âThe mask⌠take it off.â
âShow my face?â
âYes, sir.â
âNegative.â
âAre you ugly?â
âQuite the opposite.â You laugh a little too loud for someone whose on a stealth mission. You feel your face heat up a bit, and canât help but wonder what he actually looks like underneath the mask. Itâs killing you to know. âGuess youâre taking your âconfidenceâ advice, huh lieutenant?â
âJust speaking the truth, Y/n.â Boy if you werenât flushed before, you definitely were now. The way he says your name in a low, hushed voice brings heat to your cheeks in an instant. âLocation?â
âI can see the church now. Iâm exiting the green house across the street. Do you see it, sir?â Before he could answer, you open the door but youâre knocked down by a Shadow.
âI got one sir! Itâs Phoenix!â You scramble to get your knife but the Shadow steps on your hand, kicking the knife away. âKill her,â you hear Graves yell from half a klick away. The Shadow points his gun at you and you close your eyes to prepare for the inevitable. But it doesnât come, as a shot is heard and the Shadow above you falls forward, landing on you. You take his gun and shove him off of you, taking cover by the fountain in front of the church.
âWas that you Ghost?â
âWho else?â
âThank you sir. Iâm approaching the front of the church as we speak.â
âComing out now, Phoenix. Watch your fire.â
Your gaze never leaves the front of the church, and soon enough, your eyes lands on Ghost. You let out a sigh of relief, watching him run toward you and throw himself over the fence to meet you at the stairs. âGhost!â You yell with joy, but he grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs with him. âWe need a vehicle! On me L/n.â He lets go of your hand and youâre right on his tail, running through the town having almost every Shadow after you. Ghost finds a pickup truck and you turn, shooting some more to try anything and everything to escape.
âGet in Phoenix!â He yells. He jumps into the drivers seat but before he could get in, he's dragged out by a Shadow. Before thr guy could even get his hands on Ghost, you shot the Shadow right between the eyes. "Thanks for that," Ghost says, a bit out of breath. "No probl-"
As you open the passenger door, however, youâre tackled by a Shadow and begin to brawl on the ground. âGet the fuck off me!â You scream, fighting the guy above you. He grabs his pistol and points it toward the right side of your torso and smirks. He pins your wrists above your head using of his hands, and your eyes go wide.
You hear a gun shot, quickly followed by another, and the guy above you falls on top of you. But youâre frozen and every sound around you is muffled. You hear Ghost calling your name and pushing the guy off of you. Just then, your hearing comes back into focus but an intense pain shoots through your entire body.
You were shot.
Before Ghost was able to kill the guy, that fucker had shot you. And shit, did it hurt like hell.
You whimper out as Ghost kneels down besides you. âFuck,â he curses. âWe gotta get out of here. Can you walk?â He asks, cupping your face with his hand. You had already begun to feel lightheaded by the blood loss but managed to nod your head anyways. Ghost nods too and lifts you up on your feet, causing you to wobble and yelp in pain.
âGet into the car. I got you, donât you dare pass out L/n. If you can walk, then fucking walk!â Your head was pounding as you lifted yourself into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door shut. Once itâs closed, Ghost slams on the gas and you fly back into the seat, groaning and putting your hand on your wound to try and stop the bleeding as best as possible. Still, blood seeps through the gaps between your fingers. âFuck,â you hiss, and Ghost glances you at while speeding away. You look in the rear view mirror and realize youâre not being followed anymore, letting out a sigh of relief. Ghost slows down a bit, now just driving along the abandoned highway, still on the look out but also paying attention to you.
âHowâre you doing, Phoenix?â He asks, as you adjust in your seat. You let out a long exhale and blink slowly, wanting to fall asleep. âHurts like hell,â you say, slurring your words slightly. As you push against the wound and fight to stay awake, Ghost pulls up to a safe house. He gets out of the car and your eyes follow him as he rushes to your side of the car, opening the door. He reaches over you and pulls your seat belt off. Your right hand goes behind his neck and he hooks his arm underneath your legs to carry you.
You whimper in pain as he lifts you, closing the door with his foot. âGhost..â you whisper, and he looks down at you. âDonât fall asleep,â is all he has to say as he rushes to the safe house. âWhere are we?â You manage to mumble out. âAlejandroâs safe house. He gave me the coordinates, it was need to know.â
âWhat if I needed to know?â
âShh. Letâs just worry about getting you fixed up, yeah?â
âSo you do care about me?â
âI care about you alive.â
You chuckle softly as he enters the house. Empty and dark, he finds a near by table to prop you down on. You grunt, adjusting yourself on the table as he scouts the area to make sure no one is with you guys. Once the area is deemed to be clear, he looks for supplies to clean you up. You feel yourself blink slowly and look around.
You vision is somewhat dark as you feel yourself wanting to just go to sleep. Just for an hour, and youâll be back on your feet in no time. But before you can do that, Ghost comes back and makes eye contact with you. âPermission to lift your shirt?â Ghost asks, and you chuckle slightly. âAffirmative, sir. You can peak if you want. You deserve it for helping me.â You smirk as you slur your words and Ghost just sighs. âYouâre definitely out of it, Phoenix.â He lifts up your shirt right below your chest and you breathe heavily. He examines the wound, his fingertips grazing around the wound, not touching it. It still hurt, so you groaned out and lifted your left arm above your head.
As Ghostâs eyes were glued on your injury, yours were glued on his face. The mask didnât show much at all, except for his eyes. You couldnât even tell what his face structure was, or what color his hair was. It could be blue for all you know. But his eyes.. His eyes gave away his emotions almost immediately.
He was scared.
Ghostâs eyes were always cold, always empty and filled with no emotion whatsoever. But now, for some reason, he let himself show emotion, show his, some what, vulnerable side.
Honestly, you didnât think the guy was afraid of anything.
He turns back to the supplies he was able to obtain and you close your eyes momentarily. You were scared too, of course. Sure, you were a solider, a fighter. But that doesnât mean you had a death wish. You wanted to go back home and lay down on your bed, watching stupid reality shows that meant absolutely nothing.
He turns back around with bandages, surgical forceps, and gauze. âIâm gonna start now, okay darling?â You scoff with a smile, looking up at him. âYou pull up my shirt and now you call me darling? Seems like weâre getting somewhere, Lieutenant.â
âAre you always this flirty when youâre on the brink of dying?â
âOnly with you, sir.â He exhales and so do you. âIâm ready. Just please, try not to kill me, alright?âÂ
âNo promises,â he says as he nods slightly and brings the gauze to your wound, making contact with it. You hiss in pain, arching your back slightly and shutting your eyes. The gauze absorbed your blood almost immediately, causing Ghost to quickly replace them with clean ones. After a couple minutes of this, Ghost grabs the forceps and breathes deeply.
He brings the forceps to you wound, and begins digging for the bullet. You bite down on your hand, making teeth marks in your skin to try and muffle your sounds. âYou can scream, weâre safe. They wonât hear you,â Ghost says with slight concern in his voice. You immediately start to scream in pain as Ghost looks for the bullet in your torso. âFuck! Please- oh god, it hurts so bad! Fuck, I canât- oh god Ghost, stop!â
He immediately stops, halting his actions but not removing the forceps. âI canât stop, Phoenix. I need to keep going. We need this bullet out.â Tears pour down your face as you look up at Ghost. Whispering, you speak to him.
âI donât want to die, Simon.â
His eyes go wide, surprised that you said his real name. Normally he wouldnât let anyone say his name, but it sounded different with you. He liked it.
He brings his hand to your cheek as a sign of comfort. âThen let me do this. I know it hurts, trust me, I know. But I donât want you to die either. If I get this bullet out, youâll be okay.â
âYou promise?â
âI promise, Y/n.â You knew he was making a promise he couldnât guarantee, but it still reassured you. You huffed in frustration and pain, allowing Ghost to continue his work on you. The forceps moved again, making you yelp in pain. Ghost was mumbling half to himself and half to you. He repeated the words âIâm sorryâ and âYouâre okayâ like a mantra. But you barley heard him. Between the pain and your screams, your hearing was muffled.Â
Sooner or later, you gasped as you felt Ghost retract the forceps. Your eyes shot open and landed on the bloody bullet between the tongs. âGotcha,â he whispered. âOh thank god,â you chuckled, feeling woozy and tired. You heard the bullet fall into a metal bowl, but as Ghostâs face appeared above you, you saw your vision fading. âSimon,â you slurred. âStay with me, Phoenix. Hey, donât sleep.â But you couldnât do it. The blood loss was too much.Â
Within seconds, you had passed out.Â
ď˝ď˝
Your eyes flutter open, instantly squinting as you make contact with an overhead light. You groan, feeling a comfortable mattress underneath you. You go to sit up, but instantly yell out in pain, almost forgetting of the injury on your side. Your head hits the mattress again as you fall back. Sitting up was too painful. But you were alive. Your mind wandered to Ghost, wondering where he was and how the hell he managed to save your life once you had passed out.Â
You were ripped from your thoughts as you felt the bed next to you shift. Your head snaps toward that direction, and your eyes land on Ghost. He was sitting up next to you, armor still on and gun directly on the nightstand next to him. âPhoenix? Youâre awake? Are you okay?â Bombarded with questions, you begin to chuckle, meeting his eyes. âIâm still hurting bad, but Iâm alive. Thatâs gotta count for something, right sir?â He stayed silent, just watching you with squinted eyes. You felt bad that he had to save and fix you. âIâm sorry,â you apologize, closing your eyes in guilt. âBetween you having to save me from that guy, then having to carry me and fix my wounds? Not to mention me passing out. I.. I didnât mean to put you in that position, Ghost. Iâm sorry.â By this time, you open your eyes and find that he has his face rested in his hands, elbows on his knees. He turns to you and places a hand on your thigh, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.Â
âDid you purposely get shot?â He asks nonchalantly. Confused, you shake your head. âThen donât worry about it. You didnât get shot on purpose, and you didnât die. If anything, Iâm.. Iâm sorry. You stayed back because of me.â You put your hand on top of his on your thigh and smile softly, feeling extremely tired. âYou didnât force me to stay back, sir. It was my decision. We saved each other in a way, if you think about it. How about we call it even?â Even under the mask, you could tell he smiled ever so slightly. âI like the sound of that.âÂ
Ghost stands up and grabs his gun, keeping it on his possession. âHow long was I out?â You ask, turning your head to face him. âAbout a couple hours. We need an evac chopper though, need to get you to a real medic. You need a blood transfusion and I canât do that here. Donât have the supplies.âÂ
You wince, feeling the wound throb a bit. âAnother evac chopper wonât be here for a week,â you admit. He turns to you quickly in disbelief. âPrice told me when he came to pick up Soap.â Ghost curses and sits down on a chair across the room, still in sight. âYou wonât make it that long,â he says angrily. âYou shouldâve gone with them, Phoenix. Fuck, you shouldâve just left me and went back safely.â You scoff and roll your eyes. âI wasnât going to, and there was nothing you could say or do that wouldâve made me leave.âÂ
âI wouldâve ordered you to leave with Johnny.âÂ
âI wouldnât have.âÂ
âYou would disobey a direct order?âÂ
âIf it meant saving your life, then yes. I would.â
Ghost stayed silent, lifting his skull mask above his face to just leave him in his balaclava. You were able to see his eyes more properly. They were beautiful and you were always going to think that. Youâd probably never tell him though. Telling your lieutenant that he has pretty eyes? A little awkward.
âYouâre delusional, L/n,â he shoots back. You could tell he was conflicted and honestly, so were you. Sure, you werenât going to leave him behind. Even if he was one of the best soldiers youâve ever seen and could easily take care of himself, you didnât want to abandon him. You didnât want him to be alone. âWould you have done the same for me?â You ask, and without hesitation, he replies yes. âSo why is it so unbelievable that I would do it for you?â He ignored your question and grabbed his radio, trying to reach someone. He obviously didnât want to talk, so you didnât pressure him. This was a conversation for later.
âGhost to Price, how copy?â After a couple of seconds, radio static is heard. âGhost, good to hear from you. Phoenix with you?â Ghost turns to you and makes eye contact. He doesnât break it as he responds to Price. âAffirmative, but sheâs injured, lost a lot of blood. She wonât make it if we donât get an evac team here soon.â You cringe at Ghostâs bluntness about your death, but you knew he couldnât sugarcoat anything. This was a legit life or death situation. âShepardâs off the grid, we only have one chopper available. Men and supplies are insanely limited, everything has gone to shit. Getting an evac chopper and team to you guys is easier said than done. We donât-â
âIâm not asking, Price.â Ghost cuts off Price, and silence lingers in the air, along with his anger. âI am your Captain and superior, Lieutenant. You will treat me as such or weâll have problems.â Ghost scoffs and paces through the room, your eyes following his every movement as you listen to their conversation. âNo. Weâll have problems if Y/n doesnât get a blood transfusion within the next seventy-two hours. If she dies Captain, itâs on you.â
âGhost, I understand the safety and well-being on your fellow soldiers is important to you, but understand when I say that it canât be done.â Ghost shakes his head, though Price canât see it. âGhost maybe you should-â You start, but he shoots you a glare that shuts you up instantly. There was no changing his mind on this. He was very persistent and wasnât going to stop until he got you back to safety. âCanât be done or wonât be done, Captain?â
âCanât. We only have one chopper throughout the entire force right now. One.â
âAnd where is that chopper now?â Price was silent, which confused you and Ghost. So, he repeated his question. âOn the ground at our base.â
âSo why the fuck canât you use that chopper to come to us?â
âIf Gravesâ or Shepardâs location is confirmed, we need it to go after them. We are prioritizing.â
âThis is horseshit!â Ghost yells, slamming his fist on the desk, making you jump. âYouâre willing to sacrifice Y/nâs life in order to get back at Graves and Shepard?! Youâre a piss poor of a Captain. I thought we leave no man behind, under no circumstances.â Price is silent, as if he was thinking about Ghostâs words and what to do. You understand where both Price and Ghost were coming from. The circumstances were unlike no other, everyone was confused.
âIâll see what I can do. Iâll radio back in an hour to let you know about an evac team. Just.. just keep her alive Ghost, okay?â You smile as Ghost turns to you and gives you a thumbs up. âAffirmative, sir. Over and out.â You try to sit back up with some struggle, and Ghost rushes over to you to help you. âEasy there,â he mumbles, but you manage to do it. You were breathing a little heavy from the lingering pain in your torso and the blood still seeping out of you. The bleeding had slowed down greatly but Ghost was right. With no help soon, your chances of making it would be slim to none.
âWhyâd you do that?â You ask Ghost. He stays silent for a moment. He wasnât even sure himself why we was so persistent and angry with Price. He would never challenge a superior like that.
âYou asked if I would do the same for you. This isnât quite the same, but Price might have my head on a stick for speaking to him in such a way. I risked my life for you.â You try not to laugh so hard at his words in fear of the injury pain. âIâm glad youâre laughing,â he says, making you tilt your head in confusion. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou got betrayed by Graves, stayed back in a town where your chances of getting killed are high, proceeded to get shot, lost a shit ton of blood, and if help isnât here within three days, you wonât make it. All within a span of fifteen hours. And yet.. youâre smiling and laughing. I donât get it.â You hum, looking down at your hands and picking at your fingernails. âI donât know, I guess I just..â You look up at Ghost and smile sadly.
âYou make me happy, I guess. I donât know. I mean, even when you were fixing me up before, I was making stupid flirty comments with you. And even before that, I called you a good boy for liking bourbon. I guess you just being with me and by my side makes me feel a little better about being in a fucking war against not only the bad guys, but the Shadows too. Everything has gone to shit. Since Graves betrayed us, Iâve been scared about who to trust, questioning everyone. But you? Iâve never doubted you once. You helping me survive, fighting Price just to get me to safety, reassuring me with kind words even though a couple minutes before you were threatening your Captain. It makes me feel good. You make me feel good. So yeah, if these are my last days, itâll be filled with pain and agony but at least youâll be there with me, Simon.â
Ghost just looks at you, but his eyes give away nothing. He was silent, which caused you to become a little anxious and regretful for your words. âY/n-â
âPrice to Ghost, do you copy?â Startled, Ghost scrambled to grab the radio and respond. Great fucking timing. âThis is Ghost, go ahead sir,â he says, clearing his throat and shaking his head slightly. âGood news. An evac chopper will be at your location in the next ten hours. Looks like Phoenix wonât be six feet under any time soon after all.â
âDonât jinx me, Captain,â you yell from the bed. Price chuckles quietly. âGhost,â he starts. âIâm glad I got the confirmation from Laswell to come and pick you guys up. But if you ever dispute with me again, I will fight you myself.â
âYouâll lose, Captain.â
âWhat was that?â
ââŚI said yes sir. I understand.â
âOh and one more thing Ghost. Though I didnât like how you spoke to me one bit, weâre a team. Phoenix is injured, and death is a pretty permanent thing. If you didnât speak to me the way you did, this most likely wouldnât be going your way. You did good, Lieutenant. I can tell you care about her. See you soon, over and out.â
Simon didnât like the feeling he felt when Price admitted he noticed the care for you. Ghost didnât like to be vulnerable. So the fact that youâve been able to tear down his brick walls without him even noticing made him cringe with uncomfortable feelings. âHeâs right, you know,â you say, pulling him away from his thoughts. âWhat?â
âAbout it all. Well, I donât know how much you care for me,â you chuckle. âItâs kind of ethically wrong if youâre in the army and let me die. But otherwise, heâs right. You did good, stood your ground.â Ghost scoffs and walks over to the window, pulling down the blinds with his two fingers to look outside. He chooses to stay silent, mainly because he genuinely doesnât know what to say.
The words you said before Price interrupted flood into his mind. The fact that you could care about and trust him without ever even seeing his face was beyond his comprehension. He may be one of the smartest and logical people out there, but you will always confuse him more than heâd like to admit. He just canât seem to figure you out.
The room is filled with a silence. Comfortable, but still quiet. All that is heard is the muffled gunfire outside, flooding the town with each passing minute. That is, until your mattress creaks as you try to swing your feet over the left side of the bed in order to make an attempt to stand.
The sound catches Ghostâs attention and in less than a second, heâs by your side. âWhat do you think youâre doing?â You grunt, still trying your best to move without any pain. âBathroom,â is all you say before Ghost sighs, yet again, and holds your shoulders to keep you in place. âCan you walk?â He asks, and you exhale. âYeah,â you lie. âYouâre a shitty liar,â he remarks, making you smile slightly. âI can do this myself. Iâm a soldier, a gunshot wound wonât kill me.â He shakes his head, mainly due to annoyance. âWithout me, you wouldâve died.â You chuckle dryly, holding your side with a cough. âYou give yourself too much credit.â
âWhat happened to you saying I helped you survive?â
âOh, so you did listen to that whole speech I gave before.â
âDidnât really have a choice, L/n.â
âYou couldâve walked out of the room, Riley.â You pause briefly and after realizing he isnât responding, you speak up. âI have a theory that you liked what I said.â Now, it was his turn to chuckle. âWhat makes you so sure?â He asks in a low voice. âWhen Price interrupted our wonderful moment,â he rolls his eyes, âyou cleared your throat and shook your head. I think I made you flustered.â
âI donât get flustered.â
âYouâre a shitty liar.â You repeat his words from before. âWhat happened to you needing to use the bathroom?â He tries to change the subject, mainly because you were spot on. He was flustered with what you said about him. No oneâs ever been so nice to him. Saying that they trust him, that they care about him. It was riveting, to say the least.
âOh yeah,â you giggle, and use his arm for stability to stand. When you do, however, your knees buckle and you almost fall down if it wasnât for Ghost. âFuck,â you whisper. âI hate feeling like this,â you sigh, but all Ghost does is look at you and help you up. He wraps his arm around your waist, careful not to make contact with your wound. You wrap your left arm around his back and limp to the bathroom on the floor. âIâm glad you spoke up to Price,â you admit, making your way to the bathroom. âMe too,â Ghost says. âIâm glad weâre getting you the help you need.â You could hear the smile in his voice. You were glad he was around and though you were stuck in a sticky situation, at least you were with him.
After making it to the bathroom with Ghostâs help, you both decided to rest some more and wait for help to arrive. You deserved to rest with the long day you had. After sleeping and resting for what seemed like days, you felt someone shake you. Startled, your eyes shoot open with a gasp. âHey, itâs just me,â you hear Ghost whisper. âPrice is here with the evac team. Letâs get the fuck outta here, yeah?â You smile up at him and grab his hand that was on your shoulder. âThank fucking god.â
âGood to see you alive and well,â Price yells because of the loud sounds from the chopper. âAlive, yes. Well, not so much. Letâs just get out of here,â you yell back, leaning onto Ghost for support. Price helps you into the chopper by pulling you, while Ghost pushes you from behind. It hurt your wound but you pushed through it, finally making it onto the chopper and into a seat with a sigh of relief. Looking around waiting for Ghost to get on the chopper, you see Gaz and Soap. They salute you and wave, and you smile at them. âNice to see you again, lass,â Soap says with a smile. âGlad youâre not dead,â he adds. âIt feels like I am,â you say. He smiles and leans over to grab your shoulder. âLetâs get you home and fixed, yeah?â
âSounds like a dream, Johnny.â
ď˝ď˝
Hours later, you all finally make it back to base. Youâre instantly brought into the med bay with Ghost and Soapâs help. They slowly drop you down onto a bed and you groan in pain. âYou alright, lass?â Soap asks you, and you just smile with your eyes closed and an exhale. âIâve been better. But this big guy over here helped keep me alive. Ainât that right, Simon?â You ask, opening your eyes and see that heâs already looking down at you. He puts his hand on your head and pats you lightly. âGet some rest, and please get fixed up for fucks sake. Youâve lost too much blood. Iâm gonna go talk to Price.â He then turns to Soap, making eye contact with him as he removes his hand from your head. âIf anything changes with her, and I mean anything, you call me. Got it?â Soap nods at his lieutenant, and watches him leave the med bay, leaving you two alone. Soap looks down at you and smiles softly. âYou know,â he starts, sitting down next to you as you both wait for the doctor. âYouâre the only one he allows to call his first name.â You look at Soap quietly, not really knowing what to say. You chuckle softly and shake your head. âI-Iâm sure thatâs not true,â you say, but all Soap does is laugh. âIt is, lass. Think about it. Have you ever heard anyone else call him his first name?â
You think about it for a brief moment and realize heâs right. And the fact that he never corrected you when you called him Simon? Maybe he didnât mind you calling him that. Or then again, maybe it was pity. Youâre injured, after all. You scoff and shove him lightly. âShut up,â you chuckle. Before he could respond, the doctor walks in and Soap gets up almost immediately. âIâll let you get the help you need, aâight? Iâm glad youâre okay.â He pats your head like Ghost did moments before, making you smile. Thanking him, he leaves the room, and youâre able to get the medical help youâve been longing for.
ď˝ď˝
About ten hours later, you wake up after feeling as if you were hit by a truck. Your eyes flutter open and you look to the side of your bed, eyes falling on a familiar figure. âMorning, solider,â Ghost says, grabbing your hand with his. âMorning,â you repeat with a soft voice, smiling at him. âHowâre you feeling?â You blink slowly, not wanting him to let go of your hand anytime soon. âI think Iâll live, thanks to you.â Ghost shakes his head with a scoff. âNah, it was all you. Youâre brave, Iâll give you that.â
âBrave?â You chuckle. âI was scared as shit.â Ghost sighs and letâs go of your hand, making you a bit disappointed. âI.. get that,â he says hesitantly. âI guess I was a little scared too. That you were gonna die.â You gasp and your smile widens. âThe Ghost was scared? That I was gonna die? Oh how amazing is this.â
He stays silent, just looking down. You follow his gaze to his arm, IV tape and a bunch of wires connected. He donated his blood for you.
"Oh.." You whisper. "Thank you."
He looks up at you through the mask, but still doesn't say a word.
"You really were scared?" You ask. You weren't necessarily unsure, just in disbelief that Ghost could be scared. Nervous, maybe. But scared just seemed out of the blue.
"Yeah," he says, matter-of-factly. "How could I have not been? You were bleeding all over the place. Didn't know if you were going to.." He closes his eyes for a moment, seemingly remembering what had happened just days before. "I'm sorry I scared you sir," you apologize. But he just shakes his head, not breaking eye contact. "At ease soldier. It's Simon to you." You chuckle. "Right. Well, I'm sorry Simon."
"Apology accepted Y/n."
Maybe eventually he'll tell you exactly why he was so afraid. Maybe someday he'll admit to you that losing you would mean losing himself. Maybe one day he'll confess his feelings for you.
i think jennette mccurdy deserves to be given a shotgun and power armor and to chase dan schneider through a maze and go doomguy on his ass and personally send him to hell
Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.Â
Word Count: 9.5kÂ
warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking
--
Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyoneâs pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.Â
âItâs not-â Carmen started. âItâs fixable.â
Y/n didnât say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. Itâs not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldnât help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.Â
âWe just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.âÂ
More silence.
They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didnât want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.
Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.Â
âTell me something good, y/n.â Carmen mumbled through his hands.
It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you canât make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.Â
âAt least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.â Y/n offered.
âYeah,â Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldnât make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.Â
âAnd let's not forget that your âloan sharkâ is your uncle and he wonât smash your kneecaps.â Y/n jokingly muttered, âProbably?â
Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.Â
âWhat's the payment situation going to be like? âŚWhat is the interest?â
âNo âŚno interest, just a clean 300k.â
âThat's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?â
âUncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.â
One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.
âYou think there's going to be strippers?â
Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so⌠soâŚ
âThere will be at least strippers.â Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.Â
Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasnât able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, âHave you ever been to a strip club?âÂ
She didnât even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.Â
For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasnât worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.
âNo I havenât. You?â He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.
âOf course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?â Carmenâs head shot up.
âYeah, but I needed a career change.â
âYou worked in one? As a⌠dancer?â Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.
âYou call strippers âdancersâ? What are you, 90? No, I was not a âdancer.â I was a bartender.â
âHmmâ Carmen pondered before adding, âI knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.âÂ
âMy lack of coordination aside,â y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, âI spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.âÂ
âI have a cousin in the Marines,â Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.
âTell him that heâs a little bitch.â
Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.
âWould you ever be a stripper?â
3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.Â
Holy fuck⌠what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.Â
âI donât think I would make a good one.â He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.Â
He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.Â
âIt's your eyes.â Y/n humorously pondered, âTheyâre too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?âÂ
Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.Â
Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, âYou could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.âÂ
What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.Â
Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.Â
âJudging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and moreâŚâ Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, âtempting.âÂ
Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, âCarmy, youâve got a big day tomorrow why donât we get you home?â
Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his handâwarm, calloused, and undeniably strong.
After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.Â
âWhere did you park your car?â Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.Â
âMy car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.âÂ
âYou're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?â
âIt's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.â
âThat's how people get kidnapped, y/nâ
âDon't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why donât I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"
Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didnât want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.Â
âLet me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.â
âMy place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.â Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.Â
âIt's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.â
Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"
âLet me do this for youâŚPlease.â
Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.
âOk, thank you so much Carmen. You really areâŚkind.â Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.Â
âItâs the least I can do.â Carmen didnât have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurantâs financial situation so this was the best he could do.Â
They both walked to Carmenâs car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didnât want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night. Â
They finally walked up to Carmenâs car, and Carmen opened y/nâs door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.Â
âYou good?âÂ
âSorry.â Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.
âI can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."Â
Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.Â
Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmenâs boldness. Y/n couldnât take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, âLet me look up the directions, Iâm geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.â Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.Â
âGeographical blindâ, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.Â
The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/nâs place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.Â
âThanks again Carmen.âÂ
âWill your car be back tomorrow?âÂ
âThe day after.âÂ
âIâll drop you off tomorrow then.â
âThat's too much Carmen, You arenât obligated to do this. Iâll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.â Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didnât want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldnât keep imposing.Â
âIâll drop you off, it's not a big deal.â He left no room for negotiation.Â
Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/nâs side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.Â
âCarmen, you really are too⌠you're just tooâŚâ Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, âGood.âÂ
Y/n couldnât see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didnât know if she made him uncomfortable.Â
âThanks again, Iâll see you tomorrow Carm.â Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.Â
She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasnât a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.Â
She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.Â
Carmen spoke first, âI just wanted to make sure youâŚâ
âI got home safe.â Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.Â
Y/n continued, âGo home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.â She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.Â
âNight y/nâ
And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didnât jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.Â
Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didnât need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.
 Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.Â
If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?Â
Awkward silence.
âGood morning.â Y/n started.
âMorning, did Carmen fill you in?â Carmenâs âuncleâ asked.
"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.
âI'm CiceroâŚâ Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, âUncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming todayâ
No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.Â
âAs much as I love the mystery, I do have work to doâŚsoâŚwhy am I here?âÂ
Cicero spoke up, âCarmyâs got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.â
âCatering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilaratingâ Y/n said sarcastically. âI'll be there. Iâve got to the kitchen, I shouldnât leave Tina alone with my prep-âÂ
âLook, I'm going to be honest with youâŚâ Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.Â
âDid you work out front a week ago?â Cicero asked.
âI covered for Richie on Tuesday?â
âOne of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought youâŚlookedâŚâ It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. âThey want you to be there.â Cicero finished.
âThis is what you were holding off on, weâve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?â Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.Â
âBe there and do what?â Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasnât really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.
âI'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.â Y/n couldnât hide the look of bewilderment and relief.Â
âJesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with themâŚYes I can serve drinks. Iâll be thereâ Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.
âDo you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?âÂ
Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.
Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. âWhat the fuc-â Carmen fumed.Â
âWhatâs the pay like?â Y/n asked.
âWithout you 5k, with 10kâ. That made Richie stop laughing.Â
âLet me think about it.âÂ
Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his âuncle.â Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.Â
The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.Â
Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.Â
âI'm going to serve at that party.â Y/n whispered.
âYeah, no shit you are.â Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.Â
âIt's 10 grand.â Y/n reasoned
âWho says no to 10 fucking grand?â Richie exclaimed.
They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.Â
The silence was killing y/n so she started, âIt's just one day.â
âOnly a few hoursâ Richie offered
âWhich is basically just a few minutes.â Y/n reasoned.Â
âWhich is really just a few seconds.â Richie added.
More silence.Â
âIt's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.â
âYeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.â Y/n remarked.
âYou would be fucking crazy to say no.âÂ
âYeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.â Y/n chimed in.
Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. âThat is not happening. You arenât doing this.âÂ
âIt's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.â Y/n added, âGod helps those who help themselves.âÂ
âYou're religious?â Richie questioned
âNo, but heâs Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.â Y/n whispered.
âI can fucking hear the both of you.â Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didnât really know how to convince him to let her help him.Â
âWhat specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?â If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.Â
Carmen brooded in his corner. People didnât give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.Â
âI got something tonight.â Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.
They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.Â
âTell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?âÂ
âThat's one of many concerns.â Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldnât let this happen.Â
âI'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.âÂ
âYou are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?â
âItâs nothing I havenât done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.â
Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. âDo I even want to know what that is?â
âYou donât know what it is?â Y/n had to resist snickering. âSo basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap youâŚDo you want to see a video?â Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.
Carmen didnât know why he was humoring this and he didnât want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasnât too badâŚ
Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not. Â
Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.Â
Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, âCarmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.âÂ
A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.
âYou do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.â Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.Â
Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft âyeahâ. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.Â
Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didnât change his mind. âWhy donât you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request
She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasnât going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.Â
She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasnât much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors. Â
A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/nâs hands and scrubbing for her.Â
He finally looked up, âI will be by your side the entire time. You canât go anywhere unless I can see you-â
âWhat if I have to use the bathroom?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âNo?â
âWhat if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?â
âI doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.â
âYou can't cross the counter.â Y/n wasnât going to anyways.Â
âAnd I have to drive you home.â That stupefied y/n.Â
âWhat? Why?âÂ
âWhat if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?â
âCarmen, youâre thinking too much. You donât need to worry about me.âÂ
âIâm not letting you do this unless-âÂ
âAlright Carmen. We will do this your way.â Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.Â
Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.
They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldnât last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.Â
The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.Â
âIs it handled?â
âIt's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.â
âThat bastard said yes?â Shocked didnât really cover what Richie felt.
Y/n shrugged her shoulders, âI know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-â
âNo wise cracks.â
âAlso, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.â
âSure thing princess.â
âDo not-â
They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.Â
âYou can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's⌠and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.â
âDo you feel like you're taking advantage of me?â Carmen didnât say anything.Â
âHow about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.âÂ
Carmen smirked, âThat's not really even.âÂ
âI'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and donât even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.â They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.Â
They finally âfound" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didnât forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.Â
The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.Â
The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.Â
The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.Â
âHey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?â
Carmenâs face betrayed nothing so she couldnât really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, âThe band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.âÂ
âCan I see what the booze situation looks like?â She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadnât taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.
âCarmen, can you turn up the heat?â Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.
âI feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.âÂ
Richie gwaffed,â Donât worry youâll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.â Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.
âHey, save that for our esteemed guests.â Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.Â
Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.
Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasnât really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.Â
The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didnât stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.Â
A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.Â
âPayback time.âÂ
Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.Â
Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.Â
The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the otherâs ear just to hear each other.
âYou gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen â
âWhoâs getting this special order?â Carmen smirked, he was having fun.Â
âThe groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancĂŠe at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.â Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.Â
âIt's so tacky andâŚandâŚyuck. Hard pass.âÂ
Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasnât going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel âyuckâ about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.Â
âHave you seen the women here? Very pretty.â Y/n teased.
Y/n didnât really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmenâs witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.
The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.
Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, âUhh, I havenât really taken a look.âÂ
Y/n doubted that but she didnât want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.Â
âYou should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.âÂ
âI can guarantee you that they are not.â Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.
âHey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.â Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didnât even look up from the water cups.Â
Carmen looked into y/nâs eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her
âI like it here.â
âSo you like to watch.â Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.Â
Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, âYeah I do.â
âMr. Berzatto, have you been drinking youâve gotten, dare I say, bold?â
Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?Â
âI think it's time to get this show on the road.â Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.Â
âYou promised, you wouldnât.â
âI can't get to the counter from hereâŚwhy donât you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguardâ Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/nâs dress was so tight and short that she couldnât really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.Â
Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, âCan I touch you?â
HolyâŚmotherâŚofâŚfuck. Y/nâs brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy âyesâ.Â
Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.Â
"Tattoo?"
Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.
Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.Â
âYour past the counter, chefâÂ
Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.Â
Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.
âFor our guest of honor.â Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.Â
Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.Â
âMake it hurt.âÂ
Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.Â
âIts fucking boiling in hereâ Carmen commented, âCan you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.â Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. âRichie, the fucking thermostat.â
Richie complained but Carmen wasnât paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.
âWhen is this shit show supposed to end?â Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.Â
âTwo more hours.â Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.Â
âMy ass and thighs are numb.â Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.Â
âWould you like a shot?â She asked with a raised eyebrow. âYouâve seen a million guys take it, arenât you curious?âÂ
Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didnât even know how to react. âI have to drive you home.â His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.Â
âA shot of water?â y/n offered.Â
Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?
He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,Â
âHit me with your best shot, chef.âÂ
Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmenâs face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.Â
âHow was that, chef?âÂ
It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmenâs hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldnât step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.Â
âI can understand the appeal.â Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.Â
Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. âDo you want to step out? I think I need a breakâÂ
Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.
âIt's nauseating in there.â Y/n exhaled.Â
Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.Â
âI need to go to bed.âÂ
â20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.âÂ
âI need to see this place after itâs cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.â That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.Â
A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.
Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.
âShitâ Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didnât go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.Â
The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.Â
Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didnât have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldnât have the energy to make a fool of herself.Â
She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmenâs arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasnât real. Like she didnât see Richie bash some fuckerâs skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.Â
âLet's get you home.â Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.Â
Y/n laughter died down. âI canât go home, not with Richie in jail.âÂ
âYou need some sleepâÂ
âAnd you donât? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?â Carmen didnât reply or look up at her.
Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.Â
"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.
The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.
âKeep it on, it's cold hereâ Carmen muttered.Â
âI have a jacketâÂ
âIt's too light.â Carmenâs eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasnât working. Carmenâs eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.Â
Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.Â
Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eyeâs meet Richieâs and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.Â
âAggravated Assault.âÂ
Carmen let go of a breath he didnât know he was holding.Â
Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.Â
Richie watched but didnât have any motivation to say anything but a simple, âYou got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?â