Fandom!Imagines

It made them think less like the tactical soldiers he knew they were; but just as simply men, trying to act as white knights to save the day. 

To save you from him. 

It was a foolish act of course; and he was almost certain that John and Simon knew that. 

They were smart enough to know that everything he’d planned out was a trap. 

Yet here they were; willingly walking into it anyway. 

For you. 

Risking their lives, for you. 

It made Shepherd think. 

He couldn’t help but be slightly fascinated by you. 

You weren’t anyone special.

A barista at a coffee shop; with no family except an aunt who lived hours away. 

Based on your school records you weren’t dumb but you weren’t exactly smart either; you were simply average. 

Sure you were pretty, and based on what Graves had divulged in the early days of your relationship with him, you were funny as well. 

But he couldn’t work out how looks and humor had managed to make not only the task force fall for you, but to make Graves fall for you too. 

How you had made John and Simon think with such haste; willingly putting their lives at risk to save you. 

He watched on the security cameras as the two men came into view, breaking free from the cover the trees had provided them; it was only for a brief second; before Simon threw a knife at the camera, cutting the feed. 

But it was enough. 

Enough for Shepherd to know that his plan was going to work. 

That he’d drawn them into his trap as simply as luring bees to honey.

“Looks like it’s showtime boys,” Shepherd said with a smirk, into his comms to the leader of the covert team. 

John and Simon were good soldiers; reluctantly he’d even admit they were some of the best he’d ever seen; but two men were no match for the covert team he’d assembled. 

This wasn’t about skill. 

It was about numbers. 

Perhaps if the other two members of the 141 team were present, they might’ve stood a chance of getting out of this alive; but they weren’t. 

They were watching over you. 

He didn’t need proof to know it; because he knew they were just as sentimental as their partners. 

Just as foolish. 

Two men versus fifty highly trained soldiers; to some it may seem extreme to have that many soldiers against them; but Shepherd wasn’t taking any chances. 

He didn't want them dead. 

There was no fun in that. 

No. 

He simply needed to capture and contain them until Graves helped him execute the rest of his plan. 

Until you and Graves were married. 

He knew that Kyle and Johnny wouldn’t be drawn away from you easily; it would leave you without protection.

But if they saw footage of their other loved ones being tortured and beaten, it would make them act rashly. 

They would rush in consequences be damned, thinking that they were above it all, probably thinking that they’d be able to save everyone…you, Y/f/n, Y/a/n, John and Simon. 

But they wouldn’t be able to and only when it was too late would that reality hit them. 

The reality that they’d have to choose.

The question that Shepherd wasn’t entirely certain on, was who they would choose. 

The four men of the 141 had been through so much together, shared so much history…how could you mean more to them then John and Simon. 

But he himself would be foolish to not expect and plan for every possible scenario. 

The only thing he had to ensure was that in every scenario; there was a consequence, something that would break the members of the 141.

He didn’t care if that meant forcing you into a marriage with Graves.

Killing Y/f/n or Y/a/n; before working down the list of others you loved, to turn you against your ex partners. 

Torturing John and Simon well beyond their breaking points and making sure Johnny and Kyle were there to witness it; reminding them that the only reason this was happening was because of you.

Making them resent you.

Making their feelings for you become twisted. 

That wasn’t an ideal option.

It would take time to break these men. Men that had been trained to undergo intense interrogation sessions. 

But Shepherd knew that everyone had a breaking point when it came to torture. 

The final option was killing you.

But you were so much more use to him alive. 

And if he killed you, then there was every possibility that Graves would become a problem. 

An easily solvable problem. 

But a problem nonetheless. 

And that was something he didn’t want to deal with. 

~~~~~

You’d barely slept. 

Your mind was running in circles all night; trying to figure out a plan where Johnny and whoever else was in the car with him, could get you out of this mess. 

But no matter what plan you made up in your head; someone ended up dying. 

They could easily kill Y/f/n while they were still in hospital; it’s not exactly like they could attempt to fight back or call for help. 

And you knew somehow their death would simply be brushed aside; that the injuries they’d sustained from the crash were too much or that they tried to wake from the coma and their heart couldn’t handle it….there were so many ways that they could get away with killing Y/f/n, and you knew that the moment you were discharged from hospital that that risk would only increase. 

Then there was Y/a/n…sure she stood more of a chance, slightly, in a sense that she could run, or hide or scream; but you doubted that would make much of a difference. 

Shepherd and the men that worked for him were trained soldiers. 

Experts in killing people and leaving no trace. 

Your aunt's death would be non-existent to the world. 

So you were stuck. 

Stuck trying to work out how you could save them from what nightmare  you’d become entangled in. 

What concerned you more was the fact that the car was still outside; it had moved spaces, but remained visible to you.

The comfort of knowing that you weren’t alone fading away with every moment that passed knowing that they could get caught…that people you loved could suffer for such actions; and that they wouldn’t be there to stop it.

You felt like you were going crazy. 

Unable to stop yourself from thinking ‘How could this be my life?’ 

Eventually, you must’ve dozed off because when you woke, rays of sunlight were beaming into your room. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall, rubbing your eyes sleepily before letting out a short sigh.

It was nearly visiting hours. 

You knew Y/a/n would be here, of course she would, she was worried about you. 

But you wished she wasn’t here at all; wished you didn’t have to lie to her, wished that she wasn’t at risk of getting killed.

And of course, Phillip would be here too, you’re lying, manipulating, Fiance who you had to pretend was doting on you and giving you all the support you needed. 

It made your stomach twist in knots. 

Made the blood in your veins run hot with rage. 

What you wouldn’t give to just punch him the moment he walked in. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in the brief moments you knew you had before the act you’d been portraying, resumed. 

You let out a short breath as you heard the door open, expecting Phillip to be first one to arrive, eager to get to you and remind you of what was at stake if you didn’t follow his plan.

But it wasn’t. 

It was Y/a/n. 

“Good morning, my girl,” she chimed as she entered the room, “I stayed at the hotel last night since it was already paid for,”

You opened your eyes to see her carrying two cups of coffee, Ortega following closely behind her, making your aunt scowl in annoyance. 

She placed the coffees down on the small table next to you, before shrugging her coat off her shoulders and throwing it around the back of the chair next to you. 

“Who is he?” She asked quietly, after placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“A friend of Phillip’s,” you explained simply, hoping that your answer would be enough to keep questions at bay. 

And in a way it did. 

She didn’t ask you any more questions; she simply turned to Ortega and asked him to leave. 

He didn’t.

Which clearly infuriated and confused your aunt. 

You knew Ortega wasn’t allowed to leave you in the room with somebody else unless Phillip was present. 

But obviously, Y/a/n was none the wiser to this. 

So she simply kept on going, rising to her feet to challenge the man standing at the door. 

“You are not family, nor are you a friend of my nieces,” she began, “You are a friend of her fiancés and whilst he is not here, and I am, you can wait outside.”

Ortega shifted in the spot slightly, not out of fear but of uncertainty. 

You had no doubt if this wasn't a hospital, he’d shoot her where she stood. 

His eyes flicked to you, hoping that you would intervene and stop your aunt from getting him to leave the room, you had to bite back the growing smirk on your lips. 

“Y/a/n, it’s okay honestly-” 

“No,” she stated back firmly, her eyes never leaving Ortega, “I want to talk to my niece alone, now you can either wait outside or I’ll call the nurses and get you removed by security,”

You had to admit even you were caught off guard by her words and the harshness in her tone. 

Ortega looked at you again; but there was nothing you could do really. 

You’d tried (admittedly not that hard, but saying anything more would cause your aunt to be suspicious). 

Reluctantly with a scowl on his lips, Ortega left the room; you knew he’d call Phillip about this, and the moment of time you had without being watched by him or Ortega would be brief. 

“Honestly, some people,” Y/a/n huffed, shaking her head as she walked back over to you. 

“How’re you doing anyway, Y/n/n?” she asked, sitting on the side of the bed, her hand finding yours, giving it a light squeeze. 

“I’m okay,” you answered with a smile that for the first time in a while, didn’t feel forced. 

“You look tired,” she said softly, “I can imagine it’s been hard to get much rest given everything that’s happened,”

You nodded in agreement, “it has,”

It was the truth; and Y/a/n didn’t even know any of it really. 

Y/a/n reached into her pocket quickly, pulling out her phone and putting on her favourite radio station, nostalgia hitting you in waves as it was the same radio station she always listened to when you were a kid.

“Thought this might help distract you,” she explained before you could even question why she was playing it, “beats hearing all the noise of the hospital,”

Well that was certainly true; you hadn’t really realized how accustomed you'd grown to sound of the chatter,  heartbeat monitors beeping and phones at desk ringing. 

It was a nice reprieve. 

She gave your hand another squeeze before softly pulling you into a hug. 

“The nurses said four men were with you when you first came here,” She whispered, quiet enough that you were almost certain any recording device in the room wouldn’t hear her question over the sound of the radio. 

You tried not to react ; knowing that if there was any recording device hidden in the room, the slightest shocked look would give away that Y/a/n was stepping into dangerous territory with her words. 

Before you could even ask how she knew; she asked a question that made your heart sink. 

“Did they do this?”

“No,” you mumbled into her shoulder, reciprocating the hug.

They hadn’t done this.

Not really. 

They weren’t the ones driving the car that caused Y/f/n to crash.

They weren’t the ones threatening people you loved. 

All they were doing was trying to protect you.

Protect you from the your Fiance and the man he worked for were.

“Did Phillip?”

You felt your heart stop for a second; for a moment you thought about trying to protect him, not for his sake, but for the people you needed to protect. 

It was Shepherd more than it was Phillip; but Phillip was still a part of it all. 

You didn’t need to say anything; your silence told your aunt what she needed to know. 

“Johnnys outside,” you whispered before your mind could fully comprehend what you were saying, your arms shielding your mouth making it unable to check what it was you were saying.

“Where?”

You gave her the description of the car you’d seen, even in the dimly lit hospital car park you could make out part of the registration number and colour, all Y/a/n needed to do was find it. 

“You can’t talk to them here though,” you muttered quickly, not knowing how much time you had left before Phillips' arrival. 

“Why?” She asked, clearly confused by your statement. 

You wished you had more time to tell her, to explain everything that happened and what you were being threatened with, but there was no time for that. 

“He’ll explain,” you replied back, not really answering her question, doing so would simply lead to more questions, “you just need to be careful,”

You gave her a quick squeeze before pulling back from her embrace.

“How was the hotel?” You asked, changing the subject, hoping that your aunt would get the hint and move on from the previous topic of conversation.

Thankfully, Y/a/n did; and she went on to talk about how the bed wasn’t very comfortable and how the pillows were too soft. 

Normal conversations. 

Conversations that held no repercussions.

About ten minutes had passed by the time Phillip arrived, his cheeks slightly red from where he’d obviously been rushing around. 

“Sounds like a party in here,” he stated with that annoying smile on his face as he made his way to the other side of the hospital bed.

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was clearly irritated that Ortega wasn’t in the room.

“Sorry I’m late, honey, got held up in traffic,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

His apology was false; he wasn’t sorry he was late for your sake but much rather his own, knowing that it gave you an opportunity he hadn’t planned for. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him with a smile on your face.

In some ways it was good that he’d needed you to lie to your aunt, because it meant that things like forced smiles could go undetected as part of the role you were playing for your aunt. 

What you had to be prepared for though was lying to Phillip once your aunt left, because you knew he was going to have questions. 

You just had to hope that your answers would be enough to fool him into believing that you were telling the truth. 

Taglist:

He knew the game you were playing; and he was more than happy to accept the challenge you’d silently given him. 

It became harder to remain like this though once Robby was home, purely because you weren’t being at all bratty with him. 

If he asked you to do something, you did it. 

He knew you’d had an attitude with Jack all day; and normally he would take it upon himself to teach you some manners. 

But for once, he decided to let Jack handle you. 

He also couldn’t deny that he was finding all of this quite entertaining, even if he acted like he wasn’t paying attention. 

The three of you were in bed, Jack was on one side of the bed, facing away from you, attempting to sleep; you were in the middle and Robby was on the other side of you, reading a book…or at least pretending that he was. 

“It’s still so early, why are you going to sleep?” You questioned with a slight whine in your voice, shoving Jack's shoulder lightly. 

It was in fact not that early; it was past midnight and he’d barely slept during the day like he normally would because he was spending time with your bratty ass. 

“Because, baby, I’m tired,” Jack explained simply, calmly. 

Of course you clearly weren’t satisfied with his answer.

He wasn’t expecting you to be.

You kept shaking his shoulder, desperately trying to get a rise out of him.

“Baby,” he began softly, catching your wrists in his hand with ease, “stop.”

“Or what?” You taunted, “what’re you gonna do Jack?”

You felt Jack's grip tighten around your wrist. 

You never called him Jack at home, it was either Jackie or daddy, depending on your mood. 

Never Jack. 

Never.

“Stop,” Jack repeated once again, his voice firmer this time as he rolled onto his back, his eyes locked on you. 

You couldn’t help a smirk from growing on your face as you shook your head, “Or what?”

A low chuckle came from Robby, as he placed his book on the nightstand next to him, looking over at your and Jack.

“What has gotten into you today, sweetheart?” Robby asked, tilting his head to the side as he shuffled a little closer to you, noticing how close Jack was to hitting his limit. 

“The real question is what hasn’t gotten into me today..” you answered back, feeling Robby’s hand starting to trail softly up and down your thigh. 

“Oh, so that’s what this is about…” Robby said with realisation and raised eyebrows, his hand getting closer to the hem of your baggy tshirt that was settled at the top of your thigh, “you’ve been a brat because you wanted to get fucked?”

“Yes,” you said, not taking your eyes off of Jack as you answered Robby’s question.

Jack simply shook his head, “you could’ve just been a good girl and asked, baby,”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You quipped back, a gasp falling from your lips the moment the words left your mouth as Robby finger flicked your clothed clit. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Robby sighed leaning in close to your ear, his beard tickling the side of your neck slightly, making you lean into him, “it means you would’ve been allowed to cum,” 

You knew you should’ve just stopped.

Gone back to being a good girl like you normally were.

But you just couldn’t resist pushing the limits of your boyfriends.

“As opposed to what, Robby?”

You tried to act like you weren’t phased by his words.

Tried to act like you were still the confident brat you’d been all day. 

You’d been so desperate all day, just wanting to be fucked by Jack…you thought being a brat might mean that he’d bend you over the kitchen table and give you a rough fucking, to teach you a lesson of course. 

But Jack was patient. 

More patient than you’d given him credit for. 

And now you were going to be facing the consequences of your actions; and not just from Jack…from Robby too. 

“Oh someone’s definitely forgotten their manners,” Jack stated, as Robby flicked your clit again, making you jolt. 

You rarely called Robby, by that name, you usually always called him Mikey or sir. 

Jack was always the softer of the two; that’s why you hadn’t had an attitude with Robby since he’d arrived home, why you’d been so good for him. 

But now, you knew you were totally fucked by your need to be a brat; but not in the way you were craving. 

“Guess I'm just gonna have to remind her of them then,” Robby said to Jack, slipping his fingers inside your panties; thrusting two fingers inside you quickly, allowing you no time to adjust to his touch.

Though it wasn’t long before your pussy was dripping with need, easily accommodating his fingers. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you grinded your hips against him, desperate for more. 

“Now,” Robby growled lowly in your ear, his thrusts becoming slightly slower as he spoke, “you’re gonna be a good girl and apologise to your daddy,”

“‘M sorry daddy,” you mumbled, opening your eyes to see Jack, who was now lying flat on his back, palming the evident erection in his boxers. 

You stupidly thought that your meek apology would be enough.

You were wrong. 

And that was made very clear to you when Robby withdrew his fingers from you, not caring about the whine that fell from your lips. 

“Not good enough, sweetheart,” Robby declared, pulling away from you a little before lifting up your tshirt up past your ass cheeks, spanking it harshly. 

He did this four more times, alternating between your cheeks, barely allowing a cry to fall from your lips before another spank hit your ass cheek. 

“I’m sorry daddy,” you cried out, leaning over to Jack, tears forming in your eyes; not just from the stinging pain, but from the sheer desperation of your arousal. 

“What are you sorry for?” Robby asked, spanking you again as the words left your lips.

“For being a brat,” you choked out. 

“He’s so good to you isn’t he, so kind, so patient…”

Another spank. 

“Yes, yes, he is” you agreed, feeling tears run down your cheek, “so good to me…the best..”

A soft smile came onto Jack's lips, as he rose his free hand to your face, wiping away the tears falling from your cheeks.

It was a weird feeling for Jack, seeing you cry, he felt bad for finding it as arousing as he did. 

“Say it again,” Robby ordered, not spanking your ass this time, instead massaging the sore skin gently. 

“He’s so good to me, the best,” you repeated, leaning into Jack's touch on your cheek, “I’m sorry daddy,”

“I know you are baby,” Jack cooed softly, his thumb wiping away another tear as it fell from your eye.

“Think you should show him just how sorry you are, don't you think, sweetheart?” 

You nodded at Robby’s words; knowing what he was saying without the actual words needing to be said. 

You didn’t hesitate in shuffling down the bed slightly, pulling Jack's boxers down low enough to reveal his fully erect cock. 

“Fuck,” Jack groaned the second your lips wrapped around him; a sound that was soon cut off when Robby’s lips found his. 

You bobbed your head up and down Jack's cock; rolling your tongue over the tip every so often before going down on his length again, taking him so deep that you could feel him in the back of your throat. 

You snuck a glance towards them, unable to deny how fucking hot it was to see them kissing each other so intensely, so passionately. 

It wasn’t long before you felt his cock twitch in your mouth; his moans and groans were silenced by Robby’s lips as white ropes of cum spilled into your mouth; which of course you swallowed. 

“See,” Robby began,reaching out to caress your cheek softly, “she can be a good girl,”

“Our good girl,” Jack breathed out his praise, looking at you with a somewhat dazed look in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Robby agreed, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his lap before capturing your lips in a kiss, “our good girl,”

You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss; you were so turned on that you were almost certain you could come undone just from the kiss alone. 

“And you know what happens to good girls?” Robby whispered the question against your lips as his hands spread your thighs effortlessly. 

“They get rewarded,” Jack answered for you; his hands pulling your panties off of you in one quick motion.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned, almost mesmerised by how absolutely soaked you were.

“Please daddy,” you begged, the desperation clear in your voice as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Robby started, kissing your neck delicately, briefly glancing at Jack, “daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, right Jack?” 

“Yeah,” Jack replied, massaging your clit with thumb before sliding two fingers inside of you, “gonna give you what you want baby,”

And he did. 

So did Robby. 

Multiple times. 

Until you were all completely and utterly spent. 

Safe to say, you remembered your manners after that night.

Tagging:

You were just about to lean back in the chair, taking a deep breath as you did so, when a voice came from the doorway, nearly scaring you off of the chair. 

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” 

You turned to see Robby standing there with furrowed eyebrows, his work bag still swung over on his shoulder. 

He wasn’t meant to be home yet. 

And Jack had already text you to say he was at the shops so wouldn’t be home when you got back from your day. 

That’s why this had been the perfect opportunity. 

Because of course, naturally, as doctors, they both knew that clicking your back on a chair wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t want a lecture, you just wanted the pain to go away. 

“I..was just stretching,” you said with a small smile and a shrug of your shoulders, attempting to play it cool, like Robby hadn’t just caught you. 

“That’s why your hands were behind the sides of you holding on to the back of the chair?” He questioned, dropping his bag at the foot of the dining room door, a knowing look already in his eyes as he walked closer to you. 

You had two options; neither were particularly good. 

Option one, you continued with the lie that you’d started-simply just stand your ground and at the earliest opportunity make your escape.

Or, option two, was that you came clean to what you were going to do, and hope that he didn’t punish you for lying to him to begin with. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, weighing up your options, when the familiar sound of a set keys jangled in the door. 

Oh this just kept on getting better. 

Robby saw the slight panic in your eyes and chuckled as he leaned against the dining room table next to you, his arms folded across his broad chest. 

“Well this looks serious,” Jack remarked, after kicking his shoes off in the hallway and placing his bag of shopping down next to Robby’s bag at the foot of the door. 

“Caught her about to click her back by using the back of the dining room chair,”

“Is that true baby girl?” Jack asked, his voice soft but you knew that there was going to be a disappointed look in his eyes. 

You didn’t say anything. Nor did you dare to look at either of them. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel their eyes burning into you.

“Baby, you know lying will only get you in more trouble, right?” Jack asked, taking a few steps closer towards you, crouching down slightly at your side.

You knew his question was rhetorical, because of course you knew. 

His question was more of a statement, a reminder of the consequences that awaited you if you continued to lie. 

You nodded simply, your eyes meeting his completely by accident. 

You knew at that moment that you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Was just in pain,” you mumbled, your words practically becoming an admission. 

“Poor baby,” Jack soothed, standing up straight, his hand on the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing soft circles in your skin as he looked at Robby.

You kept your eyes low, fixed on the table in front of you, waiting for a lecture in Robby’s stern voice to come. 

But it never did. 

There was no lecture. 

In fact all he said were three simple words, “get up, sweetheart,”

You did as he asked, not daring to disobey him, especially not with how much trouble you were already in. 

Jack's hand was still on the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing slightly harsher, attempting to massage the muscles in your neck.

“You want us to help you out?” Robby asked, dipping his head slightly so that his eyes met yours. 

You couldn't deny that you were slightly shocked by his words, so much so that all you could do was nod. 

“Words, sweetheart,” Robby ordered gently, lifting his hand to caress your cheek softly. 

“Yes please, sir,” you breathed, hoping that using your manners might reduce the harshness of your punishment for lying and trying to incorrectly click your back. 

A smirk tugged at his lips at your words, knowing exactly what you were doing and not being able to deny how hearing the word ‘sir’ fall from your lips turned him on. 

“Good girl,” Jack praised, pressing a delicate kiss on the side of your head, before removing his hand from your neck. 

A small whimper slipped out of your lips in both a reaction to his words and the loss of his touch, that you instantly missed the moment it was gone. 

“Turn around, sweetheart,” Robby said and once again you did as you were told, turning around to see Jack now standing in front of you.

“Cross your arms like this,” Jack continued, demonstrating how your arms should be crossed around your body, “and dip your chin slightly so it’s touching your chest,”

You did as he instructed, crossing your arm across your chest and dipping your head slightly.

“Take a deep breath,” Robby whispered, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you flush against him; you were so close that you could feel the bulge of his dick hardening against you. 

That and the words whispered in your ear normally would’ve been enough to make you moan. 

But then he leaned back, lifting you up slightly, a loud crack coming from your back as he did so. 

You closed your eyes, feelings of sheer bliss and relief coursing through you; your eyes were shut and the sound that came from your lips was sinful.

So sinful that Robby’s dick was now rock hard against you; and you could see Jack's growing erection too when you opened your eyes, your feet now back on the floor. 

“Fuck,” Robby groaned in your ear as he released his arms from around you; the sound of voice instantly making your panties damp. 

“Turn to look at Robby, baby,” Jack said with a slight strain in his voice; his hardening length trapped against the denim material of his jeans. 

You did. 

Repeating the instructions Jack had demonstrated earlier. 

Jack's arms wrapped around you this time, the muscles of his forearm becoming visible as they wrapped around you, turning you on even more. 

This time when Jack lifted you, the click in your back wasn’t as loud this time around; but that didn’t diminish how amazing it felt, and how amazing Jack's dick felt against you.

“How did that feel?” Jack breathed against your ear, his arms moving down to wrap around  your waist. 

“Good,” you replied back with a floatiness in your voice, the relief of the back clicks mixing with your growing arousal,” thank you,”

“Mmmm,” Jack hummed his approval in your ear, reading his chin on your shoulder, looking at Robby as he pressed his erect dick against you, whilst his hands played with the waistband of your trousers, “and how does this feel?”

You couldn’t help but grind against him, reciprocating his action as a small moan came from you, “so so good, daddy,”

“Fuckin’ hell baby,” Jack moaned lowly in your ear, the temptation to bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you right there growing with every passing second. 

“Easy now,” Robby warned, grabbing your hands, pulling you away from Jack, making the main that had been on your lips morph into a whimper; a whine of protest.

But Robby placed a finger over your lips, silencing you, “You still lied to us, sweetheart, can’t have you thinking you’re off the hook for that,” 

And with that he dragged you upstairs, Jack following close behind you both. 

You promised that you wouldn’t lie to them again. But, then again maybe you would, because the pounding you got from both of them also helped to ease the pain in your back. 

Tagging:

Jack's upstairs, getting ready for work. 

And he knows you; knows that you’re pissed off before he even sees the telling look on your face, he could hear it in the way your keys jangled in the lock of the door and in the way you pretty much slammed it right behind you. 

When he does walk downstairs he can see how frustrated you are, and he’d offer you a soft smile, before taking a few steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. 

“Surprised you're still here,” you mumble, the words falling from your tongue harsher than you’d meant for them too. 

You knew today wasn’t his fault; but you’d fully expected for him to simply be at work when you got home, so that you could avoid having to say goodbye to him for the whole evening, knowing that realistically all you wanted was him by your side. 

But Jack didn’t bite back, he knew you didn’t mean for the words to come out how they did. 

He simply pulls away from you slightly, lifting one of his hands to your face, cupping your cheek, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you replied back bluntly; which was completely the answer he expected. 

On days like today, you didn’t need to talk about your feelings, at least not yet, though he’d always ask just to be sure. 

But he knew realistically what you needed was a distraction, something to take your mind away from the hellish day you’d had. 

And what type of partner would he be if he didn’t provide that for you. 

He wouldn’t start slow, like he usually would. 

He wouldn’t spend time exploring every inch of your body, worshipping it like he usually would do. 

He wouldn’t say sweet worlds in your ear as he made you come undone over and over again. 

He’d wouldn’t take his time savouring every precious moment he had with you. 

Because that’s not what you needed.

What you needed was to be used like a whore. To be fucked so hard that and cum so many times that every single thought left your mind without a chance of ever returning. 

And he didn’t waste any time in doing just that. 

He’d have one hand wrapped around your throat as he backed you against the wall; his grip tight, not tight enough to cause damage, but tight enough that it would get you feeling a little light headed. 

His other hand would be making quick work of unbuttoning your jeans, pulling them just enough for him to lower them so that he could slide two of his fingers inside your already damp panties to your dripping pussy.

Then he’d kiss you, stifling the moan that almost came from your lips. 

The kiss wouldn’t be sweet or sensual. 

Instead, it would be messy, almost desperate. Filled with a bruising harshness that Jack rarely displayed, unless in times such as these.  

And you would kiss him back the same way, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck, pulling him closer than he already was; the grip he had around your throat occasionally getting slightly tighter before easing up, only to get tighter again. 

His two fingers would thrust up into you mercilessly, continuously hitting your g-spot with each and every thrust, bringing you so close to orgasm that you’d barely have time to process what was actually happening. 

He wouldn’t tease you. 

Wouldn’t edge you. 

Would simply add a third finger in as he continued to finger fuck you, his thumb occasionally tapping on the sensitive bundle of nerves of your clit. 

The pressure of his hand on your throat would increase the moment he feels you tightening around his fingers. 

“Be a good little whore and cum for me,” he’d whisper in your ear, biting your lobe as his fingers continued thrusting inside you, not slowing down for a second. 

And you do.

Of course you do. 

How could you not? 

That’s when he’d release your throat, moving his hand down to one of your clothed tits, groping it and squeezing it as you attempted to recover from your orgasm. 

His lips would from yours, down to where his hand had previously been around your throat, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin, knowing that hickeys would be left in the wake of his lips, and revelling in every minute of that.

All while his fingers were still inside you; still fucking you, giving you barley any time to recover at all before falling over the edge again.

“Such a good little whore,” he’d praise, withdrawing his fingers from your soaked pussy, running one of his fingers along your lip, allowing you to taste yourself. 

“Now,” he began, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible, “get your ass upstairs.”

You’d nod, your heart racing in your chest, unable to hide the fact that you knew damn well the minute he joined you in the bedroom, you would be fucked so hard that you wouldn’t be able to walk properly for days. 

The moment you left the room he pulled his phone out from his pocket, quickly texting Robby just to let him know that he was going to be a little late today; he knew it probably wouldn’t be too much of a problem, especially not considering all the times he’d been in early or stayed late. 

Within seconds he got a reply from Robby confirming that it was absolutely fine. 

So he didn’t waste another second; he left his phone on the side board downstairs so that he wouldn’t be disturbed before making his way upstairs to you. 

Right now, you were his only priority. 

No work emergencies or drama to distract him or tear him away from you early. 

No, right now, his only job was to continue to help you forget about what a terrible day you had; by fucking you absolutely senseless.

Tagging:

Johnny flirts first, of course he does, the moment he sees you, the newest member of the team, a hacker, he couldn’t resist. 

Partially because he wanted to see how flustered you would get from his flirtation. But also because he couldn’t deny that you were so goddamn beautiful, standing out compared to everyone else in the room who was wearing either grey or black, you were wearing something colourful and bold.

Something that differed from what would normally be found in an environment such as this, but standing out didn’t seem to phase you at all. 

And that’s what made you all the more alluring to Johnny.

He had to talk to you. 

To flirt with you. 

How could he not? 

So, with that thought in mind, he didn’t hesitate in striding over to your computer and leaning over the top of the monitor, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Well isn’t that cute,” you muttered to yourself, your eyes still locked on the screen in front of you, your fingers working across the keyboard at an almost lighting speed. 

You were hacking into a database that was apparently un-hackable; but so far, you couldn’t really understand how anyone had come to that assessment. You could’ve hacked into this system years ago, before you had any form of legal training. 

You were so wrapped up in the database, that you were completely oblivious to the appearance of Johnny; who now had a slight pink tint on his cheeks as he tried to process what you’d just said. 

“Don’t know if I’ve ever been described as cute before, Bon” he said with a smirk; waiting for your eyes to flicker up to his. 

But they didn’t.

“Not you, this apparently unhackable database,” you stated, your eyes remaining focused on the screen. 

“Well that’s a wound I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from,” he mumbled, placing his hands across his heart, feigning pain. 

For a brief moment, your eyes glanced up at him, briefly acknowledging his actual existence. 

You recognised him from the file you'd been given this morning by Kate; Sergeant Johnny 'Soap' Mctavish, was the man standing behind your computer monitor.

He wasn’t cute. 

Not in the traditional sense.

Cute is what you’d describe a baby animal as, and the man in front of you was not that. 

He was sexy and handsome, in a sort of rugged way that looked like it came with bad decisions.

Johnny noticed. 

Of course he did. 

“Caught ye looking, Bon,” he whispered, that familiar smirk tugging at the side of his lips. 

“I look at a lot of things,” you said, your eyes drifting back down to the computer, your fingers not slowing in the slightest. 

“And what d’ya think?” He inquired with raised eyebrows. 

“I still don’t think you’re cute,” you continued, clicking the keys on the keyboard effortlessly, “hot would probably be the word best used to describe you,”

Johnny pretty much froze on the sport there and then. 

That was not the answer he was expecting to come from you; but his normal flirtatious, confident composure quickly returned.

“Oh, hot is it?” He echoed, his voice dropping a notch lower again, the thickness of his accent coming out, “ye should be careful Bon, start saying things like that and I might start thinkin’ ye like me,”

“I’m simply making an observation,” you answered coolly, biting back a smile as your eyes continued to read through the lines of code on the screen. 

Johnny nodded, beginning to walk around your desk, sitting on the edge of it, his eyes never leaving you.

“And what other observations would you make about me?”

“That you’re trouble,” you continued without missing a beat, “the charming kind, which is arguably worse,”

“Hot and charming,” he grinned, a soft laugh falling from his lips, “high praise indeed from someone as beautiful as ye, Bon,”

“Does that type of flattery work on everyone, hot stuff?” You quipped teasingly; but your question was also filled with genuine curiosity. 

Given his confidence, you assumed it did, how was the more pressing question you had. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he got the chance, a deeper voice echoed from behind the Scotsman, the heavy sound of footsteps getting closer to your desk, “Johnny,”

Johnny’s grin faltered just slightly as he glanced over his shoulder, but it didn’t disappear. 

Not completely at least. 

“You’re hoverin’,” the man said flatly, standing on the other side of your desk, where Johnny had previously stood. 

Johnny leaned back on your desk like he owned the place, arms crossing casually, “I’m simply welcomin’ our newest addition, Lt. Thought that was encouraged,”

Lt. 

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was that was standing behind your desk now; based on the very vague information you'd received this morning you deduced that this was Lieutenant Simon Riley. 

All you knew about him was that he didn’t talk much, and that he wore a skull mask; which you had to admit you found both completely endearing and totally hot (but you blamed  TikTok and the masked men that would show up on your feed for that). 

“Not like that,” Simon replied.

Interesting’ his words made you think, a quiet smile tugging at your lips as you continued tapping away on the keyboard. 

“Depends,” you chimed in, finally glancing up, your gaze flicking between the two men like you were assessing variables in a system, “is this standard onboarding procedure, or am I just lucky?”

Johnny chuckled, leaning forward slightly, “this is a standard onboarding procedure when done by me,”

“Which is why you never do them,” Simon stated matter of factly.

Johnny simply rolled his eyes in response, “C’mon Si, I’m great with people,”

“Great at invading people's personal space and distracting them,” Simon countered back, folding his arms across his chest, clearly making another valid point, before you felt his eyes on you. 

Simon’s attention towards you wasn’t like Johnny's; it was intense, as though he was trying to work out where you’d fit into the team and if you were worth the space you were taking up.

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his stare, “I can multitask,”

You barely noticed the slight shift in his posture as a result of your response, it was fleeting, so quick that if you’d blinked you could’ve missed it. 

Was it approval?  Interest? Something more? Something less? It was hard to tell under the mask, but it was definitely a reaction that you hadn’t been expecting. 

Johnny, however, was far less subtle.

“Always a good skill to have,” he said with a wink that made a small chuckle fall from your lips unlike Simon who simply huffed in response. 

“Is it a skill you possess, hot stuff?” You repeated the phrase back to him and swore you saw a light shade of pink spread across his cheeks. 

“No, it’s not,” Simon answered before Johnny could say anything in response. 

“Is that more your skill set instead, Ghostie?” You repeated your question, turning your attention back to Simon, meeting his gaze once again. 

“Ye’re one brave lass, Bon, one very, very brave lass,” Johnny said, the amusement clear in his voice as his eyes darted between you and Simon as though he was watching a tennis match. 

“You should focus on your work,” Simon stated, ignoring your question. 

“I already finished it,” you replied with a smug grin, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, “like I said, it was cute, could’ve hacked into it years ago,”

“Jeez, Bon, ye’re a genius,” Johnny praised, not hiding how truly impressed he was with your skill. 

For a brief moment, Simon looked confused, his eyes narrowing as he walked around the desk to see the screen that was once filled with code, was now gone.

The confusion in his eyes quickly morphed into something else; as though he was impressed by what you’d just done; but that expression quickly vanished as he stood upright, regaining his normal composure, “I’ll let Price know,”

“Already done,” you added, leaning over to grab your cup of coffee, sipping it as you leaned back in your office chair. 

“You’re efficient,” Simon pointed out bluntly; but you noticed the way the words slightly sounded like praise. 

“You sound impressed,” you grin once again, taking another sip of your coffee. 

Simon didn’t answer; and you took that as a silent admission that he was in fact impressed, otherwise he would’ve just brushed the comment off with a rebuttal. 

His silence spoke volumes. 

“Fuckin’ hell, ye’ve even  got Si impressed, Bon..” Johnny muttered, leaning down so only you and he could hear his words, “what other skills do ye have?”

“A lot, but that’s for you and Ghostie to figure out, hot stuff,” you smirked mischievously before setting your coffee cup back down on the desk. 

“Soap, Ghost, mission briefing, now,” the familiar voice of Captain Price came from the other side of the room, halting Johnny's words before he could utter them. 

“Ye’re trouble,” Johnny chuckled with a shake of his head as he rose up from your desk. 

“The best kind, but you can always call me Y/n/n, if you prefer,” you said jokingly, as Johnny and Simon walked away from your desk to the mission briefing room. 

“We’re fucked, y’know that right, Si?” Johnny whispered to Simon as they made their way towards the briefing room.

“Yeah, I know we are, Johnny,” Simon sighed, pushing the door open for Johnny to walk through, briefly glancing back at you, seeing you tapping away at your computer once again. 

Simon knew Johnny was right in what he was saying and in what he said to you. 

You were trouble; and he, much like Johnny, was completely captivated by you. 

There was no doubt, you were going to be the topic of many a conversation between him and his boyfriend in the days that followed.

Taglist:

Captain John Price didn’t trust people easily, that was a given especially in his line of work. 

But even he had an inner circle of people that he knew he could trust 100%, people that he knew would be there if ever he needed them. 

His partners and teammates of the Taskforce 141, were some of those people, consisting of Lieutenants Simon Riley and you (Y/n Y/l/n), and Sergeants Kyle Garrick and Johnny McTavish. 

Others included Kate Laswell, Nikolai, and a retired veteran named Jack Abbot. 

Those people are people John trusted with his life. 

People that he could rely on no matter what. 

People that he and his team needed around now more so than ever. 

Six months ago, Johnny got shot when he and the other members of his team were on a mission to kill Vladimir Makarov.

Makarov had shot Johnny in the head, thankfully it wasn’t a direct head shot, simply a shot that severely grazed the side of his head. 

Johnny was lucky.

But his injury put things into perspective for some members of the team. 

They always said that they’d retire together, that had always been the plan, from the very moment the team became romantically involved with one another. 

But John, nor Simon were ready to retire; they wanted to finish the mission that they started eleven months ago. 

They wanted to kill Makarov. 

Johnny didn’t want to leave the military either, but due to his injury he had to wait, heal, and then pass a series of training tests before being able to return to the field. It was standard procedure when someone had obtained an injury like he had. And he’d just been cleared for active duty. Meaning that they could start the hunt for Makarov now. 

Kyle wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. The idea of retirement was tempting; but he, like John and Simon, wanted to put Makarov in the ground; he wanted to be there to cover them, to keep them as safe as he could and the thought of not being there and something happening terrified him to the core. 

And then there was you, the only member of the taskforce who had made it abuduntly clear that you wanted to retire. 

That you were done with military life.

This decision didn’t just stem from what happened between Johnny and Makarov, the thought of leaving the military had been on your mind for a while before that. 

Something that you’d brought up in conversation to your partners more than once. Almost like it was a hypothetical scenario; but they knew you. Knew that you wouldn’t have brought it up as often as you had unless it was something you were really considering. 

Johnny getting shot was just what pushed you over the edge; actively telling your partners that you were done with the military and that you were leaving regardless of their choice. 

Of course they understood, never once trying to change your mind. 

They could see it in your eyes, you were done, trying to persuade you otherwise would’ve just been a painful experience for everyone involved. 

And it wouldn't have changed your mind.

But John didn’t want to leave you alone. 

Not after everything that had happened. 

Not when you were sleeping even less than you used to and far less than he knew you needed. 

He offered to stay with you, to retire despite how he felt, because he loved you and he wanted to keep you safe.

They all did. 

But just like they could tell that you were done, you could tell that they weren’t. 

And as much as you wanted them to stay, so that your ideal little retirement plan could come true and that they would be safe; you loved them enough to know that you couldn’t ask them to do that. 

They wouldn’t be happy. 

They’d pretend to be for you, but you knew they wouldn’t be, not truly. 

But John still couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone, despite your reassurances that you were fine. 

You, John and the others had been together for nearly five years; he knew when you were lying to him. And you saying that you were fine, was a lie, you just wouldn’t admit it to him, or Simon, or Johnny or Kyle.  

He considered asking Kate if she could check in from you from time to time, knowing that she would happily do so. But her workload was unpredictable and she could end up being anywhere in the world with the drop of a hat if she needed to be. 

The same problem arose with Nikolai. 

John needed someone that would be there near enough every day, to stop you from spiralling, to keep you grounded, to help you whilst they were away. 

That’s when Jack Abbot came to mind. 

He was a good man, someone that John and his team, including you, had known for years. 

A retired military veteran turned attending doctor. 

Sure his workload was busy, his hours long and days chaotic, but he would at least be home at some point in the day for you. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, John,” you countered, after he proposed the idea of you staying with Jack whilst they were away. 

He knew Jack would say yes. That’s just the type of man he was. Especially when it came to you and the team. 

You, however, would need some persuading.

It was a complicated dynamic; the one between the Johns team and Jack Abbot, there were definitely feelings there between all of you.

Unspoken words. 

Soft glances that were given subtly.

Absent minded touches. 

Incredible sex. 

But Jack had never asked to become a part of what they were, he seemed quite content with the casualness of his relationship with the team.

And no one ever pushed him on that, not even John. 

He was simply a friend; who they all occasionally had sex with. 

It was that simple. 

“Good ‘cos Jack ain’t one,” Simon stated very simply from the wall he was leaning against behind John's chair. 

“He’s a friend. Someone we all trust. A good guy, who cares about you,” John explained calmly, already seeing the hurt in your eyes at his proposition. 

He just wanted you safe. 

He wanted to know that if anything happened someone would be there for you, and if it couldn’t be anyone that was currently in the room, Jack Abbot was the next best choice. 

“He’s a doctor, d’ya think I need a shrink now?” You snapped back defensively from the other side of the table; you’d been sat across from John all night and you knew he’d been plotting something. He’d been too quiet all evening. Like he was afraid he’d let something slip before the end of dinner, now you knew what it was.

You’d struggled since the mission with Makarov…since Johnny got shot, you’d be the first to admit that, but you didn’t need to see a shrink disguised as a friend who was thousands of miles away, that you hadn’t seen or really spoken to in at least a year. 

“He’s not that kind of doctor, bon, ye know that,” Johnny, who was sitting next to you, pointed out softly, reaching  to hold your hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your palm soothingly in an attempt to calm you down. 

You knew Johnny was right. 

Jack wasn’t a shrink. But he had this way of always managing to get you to open up, no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up, just like a therapist would.

That’s what made you uneasy. 

Falling apart in front of your partners was one thing, they were there, they knew what happened, they’d understand. 

The only reason you hadn’t broken down already was because you knew they would never leave if you did. 

But Jack was different. 

He wouldn’t push you to talk about your feelings, but you knew at some point, your mask would slip. He’d get you to open up and it would reveal the vulnerable side of you very few people had seen and that terrified you.

“He’s someone who knows how tricky the adjustment period from military to retirement can be; someone who will support you if you need it, just like we would,” John continued, justifying his reasoning. 

“Besides, getting away from here for a while might be nice, like a holiday,” Kyle, who was sitting across the table from Johnny, added softly. 

You didn’t respond to either mans words; understanding John's reasoning and hating that Kyle might well be right about taking some time away.

It did sound nice; and you had always wanted to go to America.

“Have you even asked him yet?” You questioned, your voice softer now, your eyes finally meeting John's, which were already fixed on you. 

“Do you really think he'll say no?” 

Of course he wouldn’t. 

But it didn’t stop you from asking what John's plan was if Jack did say no. 

“What will you do if he does?”

“That’s a bridge we’ll cross if we need to,” John answered, basically meaning he hadn’t thought about an alternative plan; that he was relying on Jack agreeing to this. 

“Fine,” you sighed, not fully believing that you were agreeing to this yourself, but knowing that they were only trying to do what was right for you; and that staying in the place you called home without them felt extremely daunting, “I’ll go if Jack agrees to it. But don’t guilt trip him, John,”

“I won’t,” John promised with a warm smile; everyone in the room, including you, knowing that John wouldn’t have to guilt trip Jack at all. 

~~~~~

Only after a few hours had passed; when you and Kyle had gone to bed and Johnny and Simon were practically asleep on the sofa with the tv still playing the movie they’d put on not too long ago, did John step outside into the garden with his phone and a cigar in hand. 

He lit his cigar, taking a long deep breath in before exhaling the smoke, looking down at the contact number on his phone.

He was trying to work out what to say. 

The last time John and Jack had spoken was just after Johnny got shot, but it wasn’t for long and it was more so John could understand the medical terminology all of the doctors were using. 

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, just deciding to press the call button, it range a total of three times before Jack picked up. 

“Price,” he answered, his voice warm as ever but edged with curiosity, “odd time for a social call,”

“Good thing it’s not a social call, then,” John huffed faintly, lifting the cigar to his lips once again, “you free to talk?”

John heard him shuffling around, the creaks of doors opening and closing echoing through the phone before Jack asked spoke.

“What’s wrong?” he asked directly, not faffing with any small talk. 

“We’ve got movement on Makarov,” John answered just as simply, letting the smoke from his cigar surround him.

“Okay?” The confusion was clear in Jack's voice.

“Y/ns not coming, she handed her papers in,” John continued, confirming the thought that had popped into Jack's mind.

There was no judgment in Jack’s response, just understanding, “How is she?”

Of course Jack didn't know it; but that was such a loaded question.

A slightly shaky sigh came from Johns lips as he took another puff of his cigar, "She keeps saying she's fine even though we know she's not, even though she knows she doesn't have to be strong around us...she just keeps acting like she is..."

A silence passed for a few moments before John continued, "She's sleeping less than she used too as well, a lot less... and she's on edge a lot, it's like her mind won't physically let her relax..."

“And you don’t want her to be alone when you guys all go?” Jack guessed, knowing that there were very few reasons John would've called him.

“I want her to be with someone we all trust,” John replied honestly, “and to be around someone who’s already stepped away from this life, and the horrors of it”

“You want her with me?” Jack asked, already knowing what the answer to his question would be before John replied.

There was another brief silence for a moment before John finally answered, “Yes,” 

“How long for?”

“The duration of the op. Could be weeks, could be months,” John knew he was asking a lot of Jack, but he wouldn’t have asked if there was any other way around it.

There was a slight surprise in Jack's tone, “She agreed to it?”

“She’s not thrilled about it but yeah, she agreed,” John said, recalling the pain and anger in your eyes when he first proposed the idea of you going to the States to stay with Jack, "as long as it's alright with you,"

“‘Course it is, I’ll sort the guest room out when I'm home,”

“Thanks,” John breathed relief washing him, his shoulders sagging slightly at Jack's words, "Appreciate it,"

“No need,” Jack replied back, before adding softly, “And she won't have to talk about anything she doesn’t want to, I won’t push. But I won’t ignore it either,”

“I know, that’s why I called you,” John said, knowing despite the ache in his heart that this was the right decision, “you’ll be able to support her in ways we can’t,”

His words were true, but it didn’t stop the ache in his heart from growing, knowing that with this, he couldn’t help you. 

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked, the question making John suck in a sharp breath.

“I’m fine,” he answered after a moment, not really wanting to discuss the whirlwind of emotions he was currently feeling. 

“You’re about as good of liar as Y/n is,”

A sigh fell from the Captain's lips as he closed his eyes, admitting a truth he’d been worried to utter aloud, “I feel like we’re abandoning her when she needs us the most,”

“She knows you all need to do this,”

“Doesn’t make leaving her any easier,” John mumbled, taking another puff of his cigar.

“I know, but maybe, when all of this is done, you and the others might feel ready to retire,” Jack offered; and in that moment John was sure the man on the other end of the phone was not only a doctor but a mind reader as well. 

John hadn’t discussed it with you or the others yet; but he’d secretly promised himself that if he survived this, it would be his last mission. 

“When do you go?” Jack said, changing the subject, snapping John away from his own thoughts. 

“In four days,”

“Send me her flight details tomorrow,” Jack replied, already trying to work out how he could swap his shifts around to accommodate you, at least for the first day, “I’ll clear my schedule where I can. And Price?”

“Yeah?”

“Finish this so you can all come back to her,”

“That’s the plan,”

And with that the phone call ended. 

You were going to be safe with Jack, John knew that, now all that had to be done was the mission to kill Makarov. 

Words made it sound like such an easy task, but John knew this mission was going to be anything but easy; and he also knew, like they all did, that no matter how much they wanted to come back to you, there was a very real chance they might not.

Tagging:

“Course ye do, bon” Johnny whispered, his lips momentarily leaving your neck to place a soft kiss on the shell of your ear, before going back to sucking the sensitive skin of your already hickey filled neck. 

“And you’ll get em,” Kyle added softly, John's hand softly turning your head towards the Sergeant; meaning that you were so close to him your lips were inches away from his.

His pupils were dilated, the brown of his irises almost completely black; you were sure that the others' eyes mirrored Kyle’s…in fact, at this point you were sure yours were too. 

Fuck. 

You wanted to lean in and kiss him.

You’d missed them all so much; that this scenario felt too much like a dream to be real. 

You wanted to argue with them. Wanted to shout at them. To push them all away from you, both physically and emotionally. 

But no matter how much part of you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

You just couldn’t.

“Just let us make ya feel good, love,” Simon continued, the slight pleading tone in his voice catching you off guard, so much so it was almost enough to make your knees weak. Then he moved one of his hands from your thigh to your clit, the thin material of your underwear being the only barrier between his thumb and your sensitive nub. And that, that was enough to make your legs tremble in an anticipation. 

You were so desperate. 

You couldn’t think clearly: about anything. 

All you could think about were Simon’s hands on you; Johnny and Kyle’s lips against your skin, as well as their growing erections pretty much flush against your body. You could feel John's hardened length against you too, and you knew without even looking that his eyes were still fixed on you, waiting for an answer to his question. 

You let out a shaky breath, as you turned your face back to John; hating how much of a complete mess you looked right now.

You noticed the glint of pride that flashed in his eyes; knowing the effect he and his men were having on you. 

“Do I need to repeat the question, sweetheart?” He questioned, the gruffness of his voice enough to make you squirm against Johnny. 

“Fuck Bon,” Johnny hissed, his hands squeezing your waist hard as he pulled you back against him more.

“You’re all…real fucking…assholes…”

“Yeah,” Simon chuckled darkly, his thumb moving in circular motions on your clit, “but you still want us to fuck ya, don’tcha, lovie?”

He was taunting you. 

Trying to trip you up. 

To make you admit how much you wanted this. 

How much you needed this. 

You hated that he wasn’t wrong. 

“They’re asking you questions, baby,” Kyle cooed against your skin, gently wrapping his hand around your throat. Not enough to hurt. But enough to add to the already immense pleasure you were feeling. 

The thoughts of what they could do to you, how they could make you feel, how they were already making you feel, made you practically unable to speak.

You knew you needed to answer John; you just couldn’t formulate the words to do so. 

“Do you want us to stop?” John asked with a seriousness in his voice. 

No. 

God no. 

You knew that if you said the safe word, or simply told them to stop, they would do so in an instant. 

The problem was you didn’t want them to stop.

Simon was right. 

You wanted more. 

Needed more. 

You shook your head, not trusting your own voice.

“Do you want us to fuck you?”

You slowly nodded at his question, again not trusting yourself to speak. 

He asked, inching his face closer to yours, the hairs of his beard tickling your face slightly, “words sweetheart,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your breaths becoming quicker with every passing second.

“Stop,” John ordered; a small groan falling from Johnny, Kyle and even Simon’s lips, but they did as they were told. 

They stopped. 

And it was enough to make you want to cry out of desperation and frustration. 

But you didn’t cry. 

Not a single tear fell from your eyes; instead, it just fueled the anger that had already been burning inside of you. 

“You…absolute dick..” you seethed; not caring about the rank in the military the man in front of you held, nor the aura of authority he held. 

Thankfully he didn’t seem that phased by your outburst. 

“If you want them to continue, you know what to do,” he replied simply, his hand moving from your cheek to your bottom lip, his thumb rubbing along it, smearing the red lipstick you were wearing along the side of your mouth slightly. 

“I’m not going to beg,” you stated matter of factly.

After everything that had happened; there was no way you were going to beg them to touch you, or fuck you, no matter how desperate you were for them to do so. 

A low chuckle fell from John's lips, “I’m not asking you to beg, sweetheart, I’m asking you to answer my question.”

All you had to do was say yes; all you had to say was that you wanted to be fucked. 

That was all. 

One simple word…

“Yes,” you mumbled; hating that it meant that in this little standoff, that one word meant that John had won. 

You waited, but the hands, nor the lips of the others returned to what they were doing, all of them still waiting for permission from their captain; who was still staring at you, as though he expected more. 

“Yes what?”

Oh you were going to kill him…after you’d been fucked, obviously. But you were definitely going to kill him. 

“Yes,” you began again, “I want to be fucked,”

Answering his question as simply as you could; that didn’t count as begging right? 

“Then I’ll fuck you like the brat you’re being,” John stated with a satisfied smirk dancing across his lips, “but first, I’ll let the guys resume what they were doing.”

You were going to argue back and say that you weren’t being a brat, but you didn’t get a chance. 

He simply took a few steps back, the words from his mouth being the only thing that all of the three other men needed to hear to resume their previous actions. Making your protest die in your throat. 

Kyle’s grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, not enough to make you light headed, at least not yet, but enough to allow everything the others were doing to feel more intense. 

Johnny's hands made quick work of removing the red belt from your body before moving his hands to the centre of your t-shirt dress, ripping it open with ease, the buttons popping off in every direction. You didn’t have time to object before he pulled the flimsy material from your body. 

For a brief moment, you were left in nothing but your bra and panties. 

A very brief moment. 

Because Johnny didn’t waste time in unclasping your bra, throwing it somewhere in the flat; unable to keep his hands away from your tits any longer. 

A quiet, desperate moan fell from your lips as you leant back into the Scotsman’s touch, his fingers alternating between rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples.

Your underwear didn’t stay on you for long either. 

No Simon made quick work of tearing those from your body too; before propping your legs on his shoulders, the red heels you’d been wearing falling from your feet, hitting the floor with a small thump, a sound that didn’t seem to distract any of you from what was going on.

You were all too distracted by the man who was between your legs, devouring your already dripping pussy like a man possessed; desperate for the taste of you. 

Instinctively, your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, partly to steady yourself in the new position you’d found yourself in, but also partly so you could grind your pussy against his mouth easier. 

Because Simon wasn’t the only one that was desperate. 

“Fuckin’ missed the taste of you, love,” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked core momentarily just to capture the sheer look of pleasure on your face; his lips glistening with your arousal.

He knew you were close. 

They all did. 

By this point, they knew your body as well as you did; perhaps even better than you did.

That’s why Johnny was thrusting his hips from behind you, pinching your nipples harder, so that you were a writhing mess between him and Simon. 

That’s also why Kyle had turned your face to, ensuring to keep one hand wrapped around your throat as he placed a kiss on your lips. 

And this was no gentle kiss. 

No this kiss was rough and hungry and messy; nothing like Kyle’s normal composed kisses, but you didn’t hesitate in mirroring it exactly. 

It was fucking perfect. 

And it definitely messed up what of the red lipstick John had left intact.

You didn’t need to look at yourself in the mirror to know how much of a wreck you looked. 

But right now, you didn’t care. 

Right now, you didn’t care about anything else apart from the pleasure you were experiencing. 

You were mere seconds away from coming undone for them; when John's voice cut through the haze of pleasure in your mind. 

“Only good girls get to cum when they want sweetheart, brats have to wait until they’re told to”

A frustrated whine fell from your lips as you leant your head back against Johnny's shoulder. 

Once again, you wanted to kill John. Because now was not the time for edging. 

Normally, you would love to be pushed to your limits like this. 

But today? Now? After all that had happened and all the time they’d spent away from you, you weren’t sure how to stop yourself from falling over that edge. 

But you were going to try your damndest to not give them the satisfaction of falling apart so easily. 

“She’s fuckin’ soaked,” Simon mumbled with a smirk on his face, obviously feeling proud of himself for helping you get into such a state. 

“Tell us how good it feels Bon,” Johnny breathed, his lips nipping at the exposed flesh of your shoulder. 

“Feels…okay..I guess” you sassed, trying to control your pants and even out your breathing;  knowing damn well that that remark was going to get you in more trouble than you could probably handle right now. 

But you didn’t care. 

They were trying to make you beg for your release. 

Were you desperate for it? Yes. 

Were you barely holding it together? Yes. 

Could you literally come undone at the slightest touch if you let your focus on not cumming, lapse for even a second? Also yes. 

But if they were going to treat you like a brat; then you were going to act like a brat.

A low growl came from Simon’s lips as he pulled away from your soaked pussy; his eyes meeting yours, as he sunk two fingers into your dripping pussy, knowing damn well that normally you’d cum undone in moments by such an action. 

“How about now, baby?” Kyle asked softly, his voice a whisper in your ear as Simon curled his two fingers inside you making sure to repeatedly tap on your g-spot, over and over again. 

You couldn’t talk. 

That ability to form words; as well as your determination to be the brat John was telling you you were being, both pretty much disappeared within seconds. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your lips before your mind could even truly comprehend the words you’d just said; and what they meant. 

That plea; meant that once again, these men had won a challenge against you. 

You said you weren’t going to beg. 

But you were so fucking desperate now, if begging is what it took for you to be able to cum, then hell, you were just going to have to fucking beg. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” John said, taking a step forward, “didn’t quite catch that.”

“Please,” you repeated, the word pretty much coming out as a sob as you tugged on the fistful of Simon’s hair that was still in your hand; the rhythm of the lieutenant's fingers increasing with speed after every plea that fell from your lips. 

“Please, sir, please let me cum,” the words slipped effortlessly from your lips, just as effortlessly as you’d slipped back into begging the Captain for permission to cum. 

He stared at you; watching you grind against Simon’s fingers and Johnny's dick, his hands still giving ample attention to your tits as he occasionally bit down on your shoulder. 

Kyle was at your side, his hand still wrapped around your throat, presumably a little tighter now; but that didn’t stop him from  peppering soft kisses on your cheek from where stray tears had fallen. 

Your hips were bucking to meet the thrust of Simon’s fingers, so needy, so desperate for more.

So desperate for that sweet release.

And who was he to deny you? 

Especially when he knew they all had so much making up to do to you. 

Yes this was torturous for you, but it was going to be worth it, he knew that. 

And he knew deep down, you knew it too. 

“Cum for us,” 

You didn’t need to be told again. 

Your body had been waiting for permission and as soon as it was given; you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Fuck,” you cried out, an almost animalistic moan fell from your lips as you went over the edge of pure euphoric bliss. 

Kyle’s hand was now so tight around your throat the edges of your vision were fading slightly, you assumed that was because of him at least, or it could have been because of the pure intensity of your orgasm washing over you. 

Johnny was kissing you softly on the side of your head; both him and Kyle praising how good you were and talking you through your high. 

Simon was still situated between your legs, his mouth back on your core, lapping up all the juices that had come from you, ensuring not to waste a single drop that came from your pussy. His fingers slowly working you through your orgasm, not wanting to stop, wanting to just revel in this moment for a little while longer. 

All the while John stood there, a couple of steps back, watching his men and you, knowing that that orgasm was just the beginning; that he and his men would make you come undone so many more times before the sun rose the following day. 

But also knowing; that once that sun was in the sky and a new day had dawned, that he and his men would have an explanation to give you, one that you rightly deserved…he just hoped that you would be able to forgive them for what they’d done and the pain they’d caused you. 

Tagging:

“Y/a/n, how was your journey?” Phillip began, taking a few steps forward to greet your aunt.

But she cared little for his greeting.

Her lips were pursed, fury burning in her y/a/e/c eyes as she looked at Phillip, it was a look you hadn’t seen in years. You were almost certain that if you hadn’t been in the room, she would’ve slapped him. And God, you wished she did.

But of course, she refrained.

To her, Phillip and you were still a happy couple. And despite her rage, she would never want to upset you  and in her mind, slapping your fiancé would do just that.

Unfortunately.

She pushed past Phillip, ignoring him completely, her y/a/e/c eyes landing on you. The rage that had burned so intensely only moments ago was almost completely gone.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she whispered, pain lacing her voice as she pulled you into a hug before you could even properly register what was happening.

Once your brain caught up, you melted into her embrace. You closed your eyes, trying to stop the tears forming from spilling from out.

“What happened?” she whispered, not breaking the hug.

You wanted to tell her.

Tell her the truth about what really happened with the crash.

Who really caused it.

But you couldn’t.

And it was infuriating.

“There was a fox in the road, Y/f/n swerved to avoid it,” you mumbled. The words felt like poison on your tongue. The tears you’d been holding back slipping free, born more from frustration than anything else.

Y/a/n pulled back slightly, her eyes scanning yours.

You could see the scepticism.

The questions racing through her mind.

This was the woman who had practically raised you. She knew when you were lying, whether it was a tiny white lie or something serious. To her you were an open book to her.

And convincing her this lie was real wasn’t going to be easy.

That’s why it had to be simple.

Just a simple accident.

That was all.

Please believe me, you silently begged, not daring to think about what would happen to her if she didn’t.

She nodded, her hands cupping your cheeks as she wiped away your tears before pulling you back into her arms. Relief flooded through you when she didn’t push the matter further.

“Phillip,” she said, breaking the hug and turning toward the man who had been unusually quiet behind her, “can you go get me a coffee? That drive has taken its toll.”

You saw his jaw lock for a split second, then he remembered himself. Remembered that he had a role to play in this ruse just as much as you did, and that acting like a rude jerk would only raise suspicion.

He needed to be the caring, doting fiancé.

And if that meant leaving you alone with your aunt for a few moments, he knew he had no choice.

Ortega was outside. And that's where he had to stay, if he was in the room it would rouse suspicion with your aunt. 

“Of course. I’ll see what I can get ya,” he said, that all-too-familiar smile plastered on his face. You could see how fake it truly was. As he left the room, his eyes flicked to yours,  a silent warning, as if you didn’t already know you had to stick to the story.

You heard your aunt take a deep breath as she turned back to you. Her hands reached for yours, stroking them softly, her eyes holding your gaze.

“It’s okay. I know.”

Your heart dropped.

No.

No.

No.

She couldn’t know.

How could she know?

Sure, she’d never been Phillip’s biggest fan,  but there was no way she could’ve figured out that he was the reason for the crash.

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?”

The question hit you like a bullet to the chest.

Your mouth went dry as you scrambled to figure out what to say; you needed something...anything to derail this train of thought before Phillip could hear anything she’d said.

“Y/a/n-”

“I never trusted that man, and this is exactly why.”

Panic.

That was all you felt.

Sheer, suffocating panic…

“Y/a/n-” you tried again, but she shook her head.

“You’re allowed to be angry. I know I am. He should’ve called me the moment he knew you and Y/f/n were in a crash.”

“I am angry,” you said, some of the tension easing when you realized she didn’t know the full truth.

Because if she did, she’d understand that anger didn’t even begin to touch the surface of what you felt toward the man you were supposed to be marrying.

You wished you never had to see Phillip Graves again. You wished you could make him suffer the way he made you suffer. But life was rarely that fair.

“But,” you continued, burying the hatred, “he thought he was doing the right thing.”

You hated how much it sounded like you were defending him.

And judging by the look on your aunt’s face, she hated it too.

“You don’t have to make excuses for him, Y/n/n,” she said firmly,  not angrily as such, she was just refusing to let you pretend what he’d done was okay.

“You shouldn’t have been dealing with all of this alone,” she added, her voice softening as her thumb gently traced beneath the cut on your face from the crash.

“I haven’t,” you said, trying to reassure her.

But it was a lie.

Since John, Simon, Johnny, and Kyle had left your hospital room, all you’d felt was alone.

And scared.

Scared for Y/f/n. For Y/a/n. For the four men who had walked away with pain etched into their eyes. For everyone else in your life who didn’t even know they’d suddenly become targets.

“Hmmm,” Y/a/n hummed, unconvinced. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m here to support you.”

You wanted her to stay more than anything.

But she couldn’t.

The closer she was to you, the more danger she was in. You couldn’t risk her learning the truth.

“Phillip’s been taking really good care of me,” you said quickly,  “And I’m okay,  I promise. I’ll probably be going home any day now.”

As if on cue, Phillip re-entered the room, holding two cups of coffee and wearing that smug smile.

“I’ll just stay in a hotel in town,” your aunt replied, ignoring his presence almost entirely, “Just to make sure. Besides, it’s been a long time since we caught up properly.”

You forced a smile, hating yourself for what you were about to do,  especially after how long it had been since you’d last seen her.

“Nonsense,” Phillip interrupted, handing her a coffee before passing the other to you. “You can stay with us, can’t she, honey?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Y/a/n agreed, nodding curtly in Phillip’s direction. “As long as that’s okay with you, Y/n/n?”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded. The forced smile stayed plastered on your face as your aunt pulled you into another careful hug, mindful of the coffee cups.

At first, you weren’t sure why Phillip had invited her to stay. You’d assumed he’d want her as far away as possible.

Then it hit you.

As long as she was here, you’d have to play pretend. You’d have to act like a couple in love.

And the closer she was to you, the easier it would be for him to hurt her if you stepped out of line.

Because having Y/f/n wasn’t enough.

He needed complete control over you,  and threatening the people you loved was the only way to ensure you obeyed what he wanted...

What Shepherd wanted.

A wedding date.

And soon.

You wouldn’t be able to use Y/f/n waking up as a reason not to anymore. Phillip knew that.

Because if you said no…

He’d hurt Y/a/n too.

And you couldn’t take that risk.

The plan you had of trying to fix this situation yourself was becoming increasingly harder; how were you going to keep everyone safe and not marry him? 

You needed to come up with a plan, and quickly, ideally before you were discharged from hospital. Which gave you a short time frame, seeing as that was either going to happen today; perhaps the day if you were lucky enough… 

That was the one thought that remained burning in the back of your mind despite the hours that passed by. In amongst the mundane conversations your aunt brought up, thankfully you could use the reason for being slightly offish to the accident, even if that wasn’t the real reason you were seeming a little distant. 

When the visiting hours for the day were done; you hugged your aunt goodbye, wishing that she would both stay with you here but equally wishing that she would go back home. She was going to stay in a hotel close to the hospital for the night, so Phillip had time to get the guest bedroom sorted. She also wanted to be closer to you in case you needed her for anything. 

Then you hugged Phillip, his very touch on your skin made your insides curl;  and then he placed a kiss on the top of your head; all you wanted to do was push him away, but you couldn’t, you had to paint a smile on your face and act like you were happy. 

“Good job, honey ” he whispered, making the blood in your veins run cold, “hopefully you can get some rest tonight.”

You simply nodded, pulling away from his hug slightly, desperate to get away from his grip. 

Thankfully, he took the hint and he, along with your aunt, left the room; leaving you with your thoughts. 

You were staring outside of the window, hoping that you would be able to see Y/a/n get back to her car safely, not trusting Phillip to ensure her safety. Yes he made the plan to keep her here, but you were certain Shepherd wouldn’t be happy about it; and if Shepherd wasn’t happy, then your aunt wasn’t safe. The rain made it difficult to make out anyone so you had to open it, annoyingly it only opened so wide making it extremely difficult to see anything. 

It wasn’t until you were scanning the cars you could see for Y/a/ns, that you noticed a pair of headlights flashing in the car park. 

At first you didn’t pay it much attention; but it continued until your attention shifted back on the car, focusing on it entirely. 

You were in disbelief at first. 

Refusing to believe what conclusion your brain was coming to. 

You continued to stare at the car, mainly to prove to yourself that what you were thinking was wrong. 

But it wasn’t. 

The sight in front of you was real; and the headlights weren’t just flashing in some random pattern. 

Johnny and Simon had taught you morse code a few months after you started dating; in case of emergencies. 

They taught you how to make out and signal the basics of more code; Johnny decided to take it upon himself to add one more word into your lesson. 

Bon. 

And that is what the headlights were saying in morse code.

Johnny was outside. 

He was here. 

And he wasn’t going to be alone; someone was going to be with him. 

Part of you wanted to march down there and scream at him because what the hell was he thinking? 

Any of them being here was such a risk. 

What if Phillip found out? 

What if he caught Johnny and whoever he was with outside whilst he was walking Y/a/n to the car? 

Much to your relief the flashing of the  headlights soon stopped; as though Johnny was reading your mind. 

You hated that he and either Simon, John or Kyle were here. 

But you also found some sort of comfort in knowing that you weren’t completely on your own; all you needed to do, was figure out how they could help you get out of this, without risking anyone’s life, because as much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you needed their help to get you out of this.

Tagging:

He and Simon left the car in a town called Farford; 9.5 miles away from the secret training base in the Cotswolds. 

It wasn’t ideal.

It slowed them down. 

It also meant that they couldn’t take all of the equipment that they wanted with them, not if they wanted to remain discreet at least. 

“We’ve worked with less,” Simon stated matter of factly, squeezing John's shoulder before hauling his bag over his back. 

John knew he was right. 

They’d dealt with less and not been entirely sure what exactly could be waiting for them when they arrived at a location for a mission. 

But this wasn’t just a normal mission. 

For a start, it involved you. Your safety. Your future. The biggest distraction to them. 

This wasn’t something they could call for backup on if things went south, or there were too many people. 

They did however, both know that it was safer this way, parking too close could arouse suspicion and that was the last thing either of them wanted to do. 

John nodded, throwing his bag over his shoulder with ease before slamming the boot of the car shut. 

The two were silent for a long while; pretty much the entire walk there, even when they reached the base neither of them spoke much, sharing a quiet understanding of what they needed to do. 

The training ground was hidden. 

Almost unnoticeable. 

A few buildings that had to be actively looked for. It wasn't just an area you could stumble across. 

Thankfully, the forest they were hiding in wasn’t too far from it, allowing the two men to hunker down, and gather recon on the building and the surrounding area. 

The ground as damp from the previous rain that had sodden the forest floor, there was a slight chill in the air too; nothing that they weren’t used too though, but it was enough to make both of them silently think of home as they analysed the area around them. 

There weren’t many guards outside; not for the size of the building at least, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more inside. 

They were running in completely blind. 

Even if they sat hidden amongst the trees for hours on end, they still wouldn’t get the necessary information they needed like how many people were inside that building? Was Shepherd in there? What was the layout of the building like? 

If this has been any other mission; John would’ve pulled him and Simon out, the risk of both of them dying from the lack of intel being too high. 

But he couldn’t do that; not with you being in the situation that you were in. 

That in itself though, caused a threat to you, if they got caught by Shepherd, there would be consequences for it. Not just for them, but for you as well. 

But neither of them wanted to risk missing the opportunity to kill him; because without Shepherd the rest of the operation would fall apart. Johnny and Kyle would be able to get you away from Graves; somewhere safe, and you could live your life untethered to the man who’d lied and blackmailed you. 

The silence between the two endured over hours, both of them laser focused on watching the training ground and the surrounding area. 

Trying to work out patterns in rotations; weak spots that they could use to their advantage. Although those weak spots just added more doubt into Johns mind…doubt that this wasn’t just one great big trap.

Simon had thought it too; even though he, like John, hadn't said it. It was an unspoken understanding the two shared, when they’d occasionally catch the others eye, knowing that all of this could be plan Shepherd and Graves concocted together, to draw them out, to draw them away from you, so Graves could sink his claws deeper into you. 

Both John and Simon had words that they wanted to say in the hours that passed, both of them  deciding against uttering them, keeping those words in their minds. 

Until Simon finally broke it, he shuffled slightly, eyes still locked on the target below, “You think she’s alright?”

John didn’t answer immediately, but he did bite the inside of his cheek at your name.

The memory of the last time he saw you, lingering  in his mind. 

The helplessness in your eyes…knowing that you had no other choice than to do what Phillip said, to protect everyone you cared about 

“She’s strong,” John said eventually in response to Simon's words; and it was the truth, you always had been, he just needed you to be strong for a little longer. 

Just until they could remove Shepherd and Graves from your life. 

“Strong doesn’t mean safe,” Simon’s jaw clenched beneath the mask, his tone edged with both guilt and worry.

She’s not alone,” John cut in, his voice firm, “Johnny and Kyle are watchin’ her.”

“Watchin’ her,” Simon repeated, in a gruff tone, “Not the same as protectin’ her. Not if Graves decides to make a move.”

John tore his eyes from the binoculars he was using, glancing at the man beside him, “You doubt them?”

“No but I doubt Graves will play fair,” Simon clarified.

And as much as John hated to admit it, he was right, partially so at least. 

Graves didn’t exactly have a reputation for doing things fairly; especially not whilst Shepherd was still pulling his leash. 

“We shouldn’t have let this happen…” the guilt in Simon’s voice would’ve been unclear to anyone that didn’t know him well enough.

But John heard it. And it made his heart break even more; knowing the heartbreak he'd caused not just Simon, but Johnny and Kyle too . John knew he was wrong, but he thought he was doing the right thing....and that's why he assumed the others agreed... but that’s why he was going to make damn sure that he got you out of this situation. A situation that his own actions had subsequently created. This was his fault. His mistake. And he was going to fix it.

“We’ll fix it,” John replied quietly, wishing that he could believe his words as much as he wanted to. But he’d let you down once. He wasn’t going to do it now. It was the least he owed you. Hell he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, if you let him. 

And if he died here; he was at least making sure he took Shepherd down with him. 

“Remember the first time she met us at the pub?” Simon asked, his tone softer now, the memory already playing out in his head. 

Johns brow furrowed slightly, surprised by the sudden change of Simon’s tone; and by the fact that he was bringing up something so nostalgic.

Simon wasn’t one for nostalgia, not in the slightest.

“When Johnny and Gaz tried to beat each other at darts?”

“Yeah,” Simon said, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly beneath the mask, “And when Johnny won, Y/n bet him he couldn’t hit a bullseye blindfolded.”

Of course John remembered it. 

How could he forget it? It was the night you made Simon smile…the first night they realised that they were all falling for you. 

And just like that, the memory was already starting to replay in Johns mind. 

~~~~~

The pub was alive, music humming low beneath the laughter, glasses clinking, voices rising with every round.The aroma of stale beer and fried food hung thick in the air, making your stomach rumble.

You'd spent all day on your feet at the cafe, lost track of the time and forgotten to really eat anything. 

Which is why the first thing you’d done when you got to the pub with John, Simon, Johnny and Kyle, was order food; but it was a busy night so it was taking a while to arrive.

All four of them could tell how exhausted you were; dark circles had formed under your eyes and they all noticed that every time you blinked it was a second longer than normal, as if you were debating on just sleeping despite the noise surrounding you. 

“Long day?,” John questioned, from the bar stool next to you. 

“Yeah. Something like that,” you acknowledged, sipping on your drink as though that was going to be enough to keep you awake. 

“You look tired,” John mumbled, genuinely concerned about you. He didn’t want you to go. That was the last thing he wanted. But he also didn’t want you to force yourself to socialise instead of resting. 

“Is that how you flirt with every woman, Captain?” You quipped back with a smirk on your face. 

A soft chuckle left his lips as he leaned in slightly closer to you, his lips just shy of your ear, “only the ones I care about.”

John noticed how your grip on your glass tightened slightly, a clear signal that his words had flustered you. The fact that  there was no witty or sassy remark from you that followed, was enough to confirm to him how you were feeling. 

You simply smiled up at him, spinning on your bar stool, watching as Johnny challenged Kyle to a game of darts.

Johnny and Kyle stood at the line on the floor, with the dartboard in front of them, both slightly unsteady on their feet from the amount they’d already drunk and their empty stomachs. 

It was Johnny's turn; and in all honesty, it’d be a surprise if he hit the board at all. And as predicted. He missed.

“Gimme space, Gaz, throwin’ me off,” Johnny said, his words slurrred slightly, the thickness of his accent showing as he looked at the dart that had missed the board. 

“Oh sure, I’m what’s throwing you off,” Kyle chuckled, taking a few steps backwards towards the bar, where you were sitting quite happily between Simon and John.

Kyle was barely containing his laughter as the second dart Johnny threw hit the wall next to the board.

Johnny threw his arms up anyway, a wide smile on his lips, it almost looked like he was celebrating. 

Another chuckle left Johnny's lips as he lined up his next throw, to everyone’s surprise, the dart landed just shy of the bullseye, “That’s how it’s done, aye?”

He sounded so proud of himself. And he looked it too, a smug, triumphant smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned around to the small crowd that had gathered around them, basking in their whistles and cheers of celebrations.

That was until you hopped off of the barstool you’d been sitting on, walking towards Johnny, making Kyle, John and Simon look at you with confusion in their eyes. 

“Gonna give me a victory kiss, Bon?” He grinned like a Cheshire Cat, making Simon roll his eyes at the Scotsman’s remark. 

Both John and Kyle however, noticed a glint in your eyes,  signifying that you had other ideas. 

“I’ll only give you a kiss if you hit the bullseye blindfolded.”

Johnny's eyes narrowed, his smile still ghosting across his face, thinking that you weren’t serious, “That’s impossible;”

“Impossible?” you echoed, stepping closer, teasing. “Sounds to me like you’re just scared..”

Kyle was snickering behind you, unable to constrain how hilarious he found this entire scene. 

John was now on his feet, a small chuckle falling from his own lips too, surprised at the confidence you had in challenging Johnny on your first proper outing with them. 

Simon remained silent as ever, but even he couldn’t deny that he was curious to see how this all played out, knowing that if Johnny lost, he’d never let him hear the end of it. 

“I’m not scared,” Johnny argued, “but you’re goin’ first.”

“Excuse me?” you shot back, brows raised. 

“You’re the one making the bet!”

“And you’re the one being a cocky git!”

It took a few rounds of you bickering before Johnny finally conceded. 

He tied the blindfold crookedly around his head, one eye still peeking out.

“This’ll be good,” Kyle muttered to John and Simon, watching as Johnny steadied himself, wobbling slightly, dart in hand. 

The pub quieted.

All eyes focused on the competition.  

One… two… three. 

He threw the dart and it sailed wide, missing the board entirely and thudding into the wall with a dull clack.

The pub erupted in laughter.

“For Christ’s sake, Johnny!” Kyle howled, nearly choking on his drink.

Johnny ripped the blindfold off, glaring at you. “Well how am I meant to throw it accurately when I can’t bloody see?”

You grinned, stepping forward and plucking the blindfold from his hand, “Maybe the problem’s not the blindfold,”

Johnny scoffed, arms crossed, clearly doubting you, “There’s no way you’re gonna hit it,”

“When I do, you’re paying for my food tonight,” you stated as Kyle tied the blindfold around your eyes. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

The bar quietened, so much so that you could’ve heard a pin drop in the bar; all eyes were on you, and you seemed completely unphased by it, maybe that was simply because you couldn’t see any of them, or maybe it was because you were that confident that you could hit it. 

When you threw the dart, it landed directly in the centre of the red circle in the middle of the board. 

Bullseye.

The pub erupted with noise, cheers, laughter, the sound of glasses hitting tables. 

Johnny stared, jaw slack, trying to work out how a barista had beaten him, a trained soldier. 

The only logical explanation was that you working at the coffee shop was a cover; and that you were actually a spy. 

“Bloody hell…” he muttered, eyes darting between the board and you, “you a spy or somethin’ Bon?”

“Nah, but my dad did consecutively win the local darts championship in our town though” You began already lifting the blindfold from your eyes, meeting Johnny's shocked expression with a triumphant grin, “guess it’s not impossible after all”

Gaz doubled over laughing at your words. 

John couldn’t help but look at you with a proud look in his eyes, and beside him, was Simon who was still sitting on his bar stool, the smile on his face undetectable to almost everyone except John, who noticed it despite the mask that covered his face. 

And that was enough to make John's heart swell with a warm feeling, something he never felt for anyone apart from his partners…and now you. 

~~~~~~

For a long moment, neither man spoke. The memory lingered between them, faint, comforting, and painful all at once.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” John murmured.

“Because it was,” Simon said quietly, eyes still on the training ground. 

So much had changed in the five years since that darts competition….

So much heartbreak. 

So many things both of them wished they’d done differently; to keep you in their lives.

But they couldn’t rewrite the past, all they could do was try to change the future you were being resigned to.

It wasn’t long before the sun began to set; they both knew that the time to move was approaching; both of them aware of the risk that they were walking into.  

But knowing that it was a necessary risk. 

“We should get movin’,” John said, once they’d been submerged in darkness of the night.

Now was the time. 

“Copy that,” Simon said, slowly rising to his feet, emptying his bag, grabbing his guns and knives from it. 

John did the same, both of them burying their empty bags under the leaves of the forest floor, keeping them hidden.  

John glanced over his shoulder as he began walking through the forest, looking at the masked man behind him, “Got my back?”

“Always,” Simon responded with a nod, following his Captain's steps, with a clear mission in mind, find Shepherd and eliminate him.

No hesitation. No evidence.

Just one shot would be enough, they’d just have to make it quick, even though after everything that’d happened, a quick death wasn’t something Shepherd deserved.

But this wasn’t about them. 

It was about you.

And the quicker they eliminated Shepherd; the quicker you would finally be able to walk away from Graves without feeling terrified about the repercussions. 

Tagging:

You had a good time with them. 

In more ways than one. 

They supported you, as friends, they were there for you when you needed to vent about your day. Or they would share their dinner with you if you’d arrived late back from work, seeing as Kyle always made too much food, it was like he was feeding a small army instead of just the four of them (you assumed after the second time of you coming over for dinner after a long shift, that he purposely made extra - but you never complained).

Sometimes you’d stay over so late that you’d just fall asleep, snuggled up against Simon’s chest; he never moved you. 

He never moved in general if you fell asleep on him. 

So many times you woke up in the early hours of the morning, still on the sofa, blinking up confused , seeing the faint outline of him in the dimly lit room. 

He’d say he didn’t wake you because he didn’t want to disturb you; then, and only then, would he carry you to their bed, despite you mumbling about the fact that you could easily go home. 

Simon would refuse; settling you down next to John, who instinctively wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest, placing a soft kiss on the side of your head, shushing you back to sleep. 

And then there was the sex. 

The toe curling, back arching, hand covering mouth to muffle your loud moans, type of sex. 

Naturally, they were all different. 

Johnny was usually always the first to go down on you, so desperate to get a taste of the wetness dripping from between your thighs.

Kyle would be kissing you during it, whispering praise and pinching your hardened nipples, the action making you grind yourself against Johnny (who absolutely fucking loved it).

Johnny would slip two fingers inside of your wetness easily; curling them inside of you, hitting your g-spot with every pleasurable thrust, only making you a moaning mess, muffled only by Kyle’s lips. 

Johnny knew your body well enough to know when you were close. 

And when he knew you were right on the edge, he’d look up at you, nipping slightly on your sensitive clit, and you’d come undone beneath him.  

Then the sergeants would switch. 

Kyle’s was always gentler than Johnny, his tongue drawing circles on your sensitive clit before slipping a finger inside of you. 

He teased you. 

Occasionally speeding up his tongue and finger, before slowing right back down to his usual controlled rhythm. 

He’d have you writing around on the bed until you were begging him to let you cum. 

Only when he was satisfied with your pleas, would he add another finger inside of you, and finger fuck you in the best possible way, until you could no longer hold back. 

Until you broke beneath him. 

By the time Simon gets his hands on you, you’re a complete and utter mess. He makes sure to tell you as much. 

He makes sure to tell you just how absolutely fucked you are; your hair a mess, your eyes glassy, pupils dilated, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing from the two sergeants. 

You wouldn’t have time to say anything in response; before he shoved his thick fingers effortlessly inside of you. 

Not that you ever really could, forming a coherent sentence whilst your brain was high on pleasure was extremely difficult. 

The first time; you noticed a look in his eye, somewhat like worry, like he was scared that he was going to hurt you. 

But once he realised you didn’t break easily; he started to become more at ease; leading to scenarios such as these; with three fingers fully inside you, down to his knuckles. 

Johnny would still be next to you; chuckling lightly at what Simon said, almost as though he was goading you to bite back, but the vibration of his laugh against your neck only seemed to turn you on more. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John's hand wrapped around the sergeant's erection that was hanging over his boxers; pumping him slowly at first, their eyes fixed on you. 

Simon was slow. 

Those three fingers would curl inside you before; hitting your g-spot just enough to make you lose control of your moans. 

His fingers would quickly be replaced by his lips, as he ate you out like a man starved, lapping up all the juices from your arousal. 

Simon alternated between having three fingers inside you to having his tongue inside you, so quickly, and so easily, by the time you were cumming undone you weren’t sure which one it was because of. 

Nor did you care in all honesty. 

All you cared about was the bliss you were feeling from your release; a feeling you believed Kyle could resonate with, given that his back was now slumped against the wall, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath.

You’d see the triumphant glint twinkling in Simon's eyes as he sucked on the inside of your thigh, leaving a purple bruise in his wake, before pulling away from you completely, guiding Johnny away with him. 

Then there was John. 

The Captain of the 141. 

The leader of the three other men in the room. 

It made sense that he was the first one to fuck you. 

Like the others, he revelled in the taste of you; but after a short while, once boundaries were discussed, he was the very first one of the men to be inside you.

And fuck did he feel so fucking good. 

A bit like Simon, he was cautious at first, not wanting to hurt you, especially when you were already so sensitive from the over-stimulation of the others. 

But once he realised how desperate you were to be fucked; it was like a switch flicked inside him, and he fucked you hard.

His hands were on your hips, leaving marks on your body (marks that you recall smirking about when you finally came back to yourself), as he thrusted inside of you. 

Lifting one of your legs up, propping it on top of his shoulder to allow him a better angle, allowing you to feel him deeper. 

It was intense. 

But you loved every single second of it. 

And you could tell, John did too, his steadied rhythm becoming quicker as he came close to his own release. 

It wasn’t long before you both came undone, moans and groans echoing throughout the room, you clamped around him, milking him dry as he came inside of you, thank god you were on birth control.

This became a frequent habit; you going round, getting teased, fingered, fucked; overall just used by your neighbours. 

As time went on; the kinkier side of you, and of them became clear. 

Choking, edging, spanking, being blindfolded, being tied up, nipple clamps, being filled by one of them whilst sucking someone else off.

It was insane how comfortable you felt, being able to feel vulnerable around people in some of the most intimate ways, in ways that you’d never been with other people. 

You loved it...and that was when it dawned on you, that your feelings for each of them were growing. 

You wanted to tell them. Wanted to tell all of them about how you truly felt. 

But when you knocked on the door to their flat, there was no answer. 

Another knock. 

Still no answer. 

At first, you assumed that they were just out and would be back later; that was until you went inside your flat, seeing a folded up piece of paper on your doormat. You opened it, of course you did, although part of you wished you hadn’t.

They were going on a mission. 

They didn’t say where, nor did they say when they’d be back; no other information, nothing, apart from simply saying that they were going on a mission and that Kyle had left some food for you in the fridge. 

That was all you had. 

It worried the hell out of you. 

You knew from the beginning that they were quite high up in the military; but you’d never been around them whilst they were on a mission. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from spiralling that first night, worrying about whether or not they were all going to come back. 

You’d love to say it got easier as the days went on; it didn’t. 

They were away for thirteen days. 

Thirteen extremely long days. 

You wanted to tell them how you felt the minute you saw them; knowing that you were so close to potentially never getting the chance to. 

However, you decided against it, feeling like it wasn't the right time, not with how absolutely exhausted they all looked. 

You thought over time it would fade; that slowly things would return to normal; but they didn’t. Not really. 

Kyle still cooked enough for you to have dinner at theirs; but as for the dynamic between you all, that seemed to negatively shift.

You would make cheeky jokes, teasing them in the same way that you always did; but there was no real reply or reaction to your words. 

Johnny didn’t retort back with a cheekier comment. 

Simon didn’t smirk.

Kyle’s eyes didn’t gleam with mischief. 

John didn’t lean over the table, carefully warning you to behave with a playful look in his eyes. 

You tried talking to them; wanting to know what was going on in their minds; but they just brushed your questions off. 

You could feel the distance growing between you and them, and you didn’t know how to fix it. 

It didn’t get any easier. 

In fact, it just seemed to get worse. 

You started not seeing them as often; sometimes they just didn't answer the door despite you knowing they were in there; other times one of them, usually Simon, would answer the door, giving you a vague reason why you couldn’t come in, that they were busy…

And that was all you needed to know where you stood with them. 

It broke your heart; you couldn't deny that. 

But you also knew that there was never a conversation between you and them about being anything more than friends with benefits. 

They owed you nothing. 

But that also meant, you owed them nothing. 

So after two days of wallowing; you decided you were going to go out to a club with your friends. 

Of course, you had no intention of hooking up with anyone…but you were going to go out and have a good time; you were going to try and forget about the four men next door to you. 

You were ready to go; dressed in a long white shirt dress, paired with a red belt and matching red shoes; smoky eyeshadow and red lipstick. 

You were breaking inside, but you were trying desperately to ignore it, trying to focus on how hot you looked and how confident you should feel instead. 

You gave yourself a little pep talk before leaving; but when you opened the door, you saw Johnny leaning against the wall opposite your flat. 

He didn’t say anything at first; he just looked you up and down before his eyes met yours. 

He cleared his throat, “Where ye goin’ dressed like that, Bon?”

Hearing the usual nickname he had for you falling from his lips made your heart ache slightly. 

You didn’t owe him an answer. 

But you gave him one anyway, purely because you wanted to at least give him the illusion that you weren’t heartbroken, “I’m going out with some friends.”

“Where?” He asked, pushing off of the wall, taking a step closer to you. 

“A club,” you answered bluntly, locking your door before attempting to walk away from Johnny.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to make too much noise if I bring a guy home.”

It was a low blow. 

But you didn’t regret saying it. 

Johnny's hand was around your wrist in a second, halting your movements instantly.

“Johnny-”

You didn't get to finish your sentence; before you knew it he was pulling you into the flat he shared with the others, the flat that had felt like a second home to you for so long. 

You were greeted by three pairs of eyes meeting yours.

You tried to leave; but Johnny was now standing in front of the door; blocking you from leaving. 

“Johnny, move,”

“No,” he answered simply, turning you around, placing his hands on your waist, forcing you to face the three other men, whose eyes were still solely focused on you. 

“What’re you doin’ Johnny?" Simon questioned, his eyes briefly flicking to the Scotsman eyes behind you. 

“Why dontcha repeat what ye just said, Bon?” Johnny whispered in your ear, his grip on your waist tightening. 

You knew what he was doing.

“I said I was going out with friends to a club,” you explained, purposefully leaving out the part that you knew Johnny wanted you to say, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“It’s exactly our business, ‘specially when ye say about fucking another guy,” Johnny retorted back; his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Kyle and Simon were on their feet before you had a chance to say a single syllable, both of them standing either side of you, questioning if what you said was true. 

“Is that true?” Kyle asked softly, looking more hurt than anything, touching the side of your arm gently as though he was trying to comfort you, “you’re thinking about fucking a different guy?” 

“You really think anyone’s gonna fuck ya like we do, love?” Simon mumbled, his eyes burning into yours, his jealousy clear within his eyes. 

You let out a shaky breath, not really sure how to respond. 

You wanted to shout at them; wondering how they had the audacity to do this to you after all the time they’d ignored you. 

But part of you, couldn’t help but be turned on by this. 

It was the closest you’d been to any of them and you couldn’t deny how much you missed it.

How much you missed them. 

You glanced over at John, who was sitting on the arm rest of the sofa, his arms folded, his eyes practically burning into your very soul. 

He said nothing as he rose to his feet; eyes never leaving yours; he was watching every single move you made and you knew that he noticed how your breathing quickened slightly as he got closer to you. 

“They asked you questions, sweetheart,” John began, cupping your cheek, making it completely impossible to divert your eyes from his.

“Questions that they have no right asking,” you challenged back, anger lacing your voice as you tried to shift away from his touch (and failing), “questions none of you have any right to ask, let alone deserve the answers to.”

“You’re hurt, and angry,” John began, his thumb stroking soothing circles on your cheek, “I understand why, we all do…”

“So…let us make it up to ye, Bon,” Johnny cooed, continuing John's sentence, nipping the side of your neck, causing a small gasp to slip from your lips. 

Fuck. 

No. No. 

You were mad at them. 

You shouldn’t have been turned on by their actions. 

Should have already felt yourself getting wet just thinking about them touching you. 

Your mouth felt dry and you had no idea what to say to them.

You should’ve said no. 

Should’ve said the safe word that you knew would make them stop their actions immediately. 

But you didn’t.

You didn’t say anything. 

And then your phone rang; you didn’t need to look at it to see who it was, you knew it was going to be Y/f/n, your best friend, calling you to tell you that they were outside. 

Kyle took your phone from your hands before you could even fully work out what he was doing; you thought he was just gonna deny the call. 

Did he do that? No. No he didn’t. He answered it, putting it on loud speaker, holding it out for you to speak into. 

“Hey I’m outside!” Y/f/n chimed through the other end of the phone; completely unaware that you were currently pretty much caged by your four neighbours. 

John raised his eyebrows as he looked at you, waiting for your response. 

You could’ve just told your friend what was happening, god knows they’d have raced up to the apartment, to get you free of them if you asked. 

“Hey, I-I’m not feeling too good,” you began, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to fall from your parted lips as Johnny alternated between  biting and sucking your neck. 

“What’s wrong?” Your friend inquired, you could hear the genuine concern in their voice, and a small part of you felt guilty for the lie you were going to continue to tell. 

But there was also a part of you that was already getting lost in the pleasure of Johnny's lips on your skin along with John's hand on your cheek. 

As you opened your mouth to speak, Simon dropped to his knees by the side of you, bunching the white shirt dress up, spreading one of your legs, to allow him access to your thighs.

He wasted no time in kissing the inside of your sensitive skin, a small chuckle leaving him as you shuddered at the feeling. 

“Y/n?”

“Mi-migrain…” you uttered weakly, knowing that you weren’t going to last much longer if they continued teasing you like this. 

“Awh shit, do you need anything, I can swing by the shops and get you some stuff if you do,”

Johnny squeezed your waist harshly, enough that you were sure there would be an imprint of his hands on your skin despite the material that was between you both. 

“It’s fine…think I just need some rest,” you replied hoping that that answer would be enough for them.

Thankfully your friend didn’t push the situation further, they just said that they hope you feel better soon, you thanked them, and then you both said your goodbyes.

Kyle tossed your phone on to the sofa; before mirroring Johnny's actions on the other side of your neck, careful to mind John's hand that was still caressing your face.

“Good choice, sweetheart,” John breathed, taking a small step forward, until your body was near enough touching him.

“Now,” he whispered, so close that you could feel the hairs from his beard on your face, his lips mere inches from yours “do you wanna be fucked like a needy brat, or pleasured  like a good girl?”

Tagging:

And he couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone else he loved. 

What happened if this man, Grey, found him before he finished talking to Kate; they already knew he’d bugged the laptop, you wouldn't have been able to find them any other way. 

What if Grey did the same thing to Simon as he’d done to you. 

Would it really be Simon that was coming back; or was it going to be a creation of this madman, a weapon designed to break them. 

Seeing you like he had, had already done that. 

If he saw Simon like that too….

John could see Johnny was spiralling into the worst possible scenarios; of course he’d thought about them too. 

That’s why he wanted Simon to stay. 

That’s why John wanted to go himself, to spare Johnny from the pain of worrying. 

But he knew why Simon had volunteered himself to go, and it wasn’t just for Kyle; it was for a more selfish reason that John completely understood. 

Simon needed space. 

Space to process what had happened, what he’d seen. 

“He wouldn’t have let you, you know that,” John said softly, making sure that the bandage on Kyle's leg was secure, watching as it slowly started to absorb small droplets of blood from the wound, “You just need to give him time,”

A disgruntled sound came from Johnny as he shook his head, still pacing back and forth within the room. 

Seeing you again had been hard on all of them, there was no denying that.  

Harder than any mission they’d been on. 

And even though you’d been holding a gun to the back of his head, all John did apart from deny leaving you, was sit there. 

Feeling completely and utterly useless.

But it wasn't like he could do much else. 

Simon, however, didn’t hesitate. 

He was pointing a gun at you, his finger settled on the trigger, ready to pull it. 

Ready to kill you….

John saw the conflict in his eyes, the worry, the confusion, the regret, the guilt, but he didn’t let that cloud his judgement.

He didn’t know what happened to you then, none of them did; but he knew that all Simon saw was someone threatening the people he loved, you’d already shot Kyle and you were holding a gun to his Captains head, he wasn’t going to let you hurt anyone else. 

John understood it. 

And if it had not been for Johnny getting him to lower his weapon; who knows what would’ve happened…

It was a thought John tried actively not to think about. 

Just like he was trying not to remember the pleas falling from your lips, your tear stained cheeks, the pain in your screams as Grey re-wrote your memories. 

“What did she look like?” John asked,a small groan falling from his lips as he sat down in front of the sofa that Kyle was still lying unconscious on.

His words were enough to stop Johnny's pacing steps; he turned to look at John, his brows knitting together in confusion.

But John had a reason for his question; and he needed Johnny to answer it, if only to remove the images of you he’d seen in the video from his mind. 

“What did she look like?” John repeated his question, looking up to meet Johnny's eyes. 

Johnny didn’t answer straight away; his mind was trying to recall specifically what you looked like, amongst the chaos that had happened. 

“Her hair’s shorter,” Johnny began, recalling the length of your hair when he first saw you; he knew it was you; but he also knew, as they all did, that you’d never been a fan of shorter hairstyles, Johnny assumed that had been something Grey had done. 

“And she’s got more scars than I remember her having...” the sadness was evident in his tone as he slowly began walking towards John, “She’s got a few little ones around her neck, another small one just above her eyebrow…and a bigger one down the left side of her cheek…” 

“And here eyes….” he continued; his voice shaking slightly as sat down, defeatedly, next to John, “they didn’t look like hers anymore…”

Johnny remembered your eyes, a beautiful shade of Y/e/c; but the spark of life that had always been in your eyes was gone now, it made them seem darker, colder; like you weren’t you anymore… 

And you weren’t. 

Not really. 

Grey had erased all that you used to be; the short hair and the scars were physical things that had changed; physical aspects of you that Grey had caused. 

But your eyes. 

That wasn’t just a physical change, it was deeper than that. 

More painful. 

Grey had crushed your spirit and extinguished that spark in your eyes.

John nodded, placing his hand on Johnny's knee comfortingly, “Her hand was shaking when you were talking to her,”

Johnny had noticed that; that’s why he started to get closer to you, hoping that somehow he could reach you; the real you he’d fallen in love with. 

“Her eyes changed a little then…” 

It wasn’t by a lot, it was almost unnoticeable, but Johnny noticed. 

A flicker, brief yes, but it was there. 

He couldn’t help but wonder, if it had not been from the knockout gas, would he have gotten through to you.

Would he have been able to help you? 

To save you from the control of Grey….

“Canny get her screams outta my head,” Johnny mumbled, swallowing hard as he blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. 

Johnny moved his arm quickly; the hand that had been on Johnny's knee moving quickly around his back, pulling the Scotsman closer to him as.  

“I know,” John comforted, feeling Johnny's pain, “neither can I,” 

The two of them sat there for a while in silence, trying to find comfort in one another's arms. 

“You nearly got through to her,” John stated, breaking the silence after a short while. 

“Wasn’t enough,” Johnny sighed, shaking his head. 

“It was something,” John assured him, cupping Johnny's cheek, wiping a stray tear from the Scotsman's cheek, “We can work with that,”

“That’s if Shepherd doesn’t send Graves to kill her,” 

“He won’t. Simon will talk to Kate and Kate will talk to Shepherd,” His tone was firmer now, almost like he was trying to wish his words into existence, “She’ll tell them what she knows, and then we’ll bring her home,”

Home. 

That singular word hung heavy in the air; both of them wishing that it would be as simple as it sounded. 

Of course it wouldn’t be.

It was going to be tough, for all of them, for you…

But that wasn’t going to stop them; any of them. 

You thought they’d abandoned you; they were going to prove you wrong. 

A faint groan came from behind them, making the two men who were sitting on the floor turn around quickly, both of them staring at Kyle. 

The sergeant's eyes fluttered open slowly, another groan falling from his lips as he attempted to move, the groan morphing into a hiss of pain as Kyle's hand shot straight to his leg. 

“Easy, Gaz,” Johnny said softly, removing Kyle's hands from the bandages, as John pushed him black down onto the sofa. 

“What happened?” Kyle questioned, his eyes darting between John and Johnny, filled with confusion. 

Before either of the two men had a chance to answer, Kyle spoke again, confusion turning into recognition in his voice, “Y/n…she shot me...”

“She did,” Johnny mumbled, “But….”

“But she’s not herself,” John interrupted, explaining on behalf of Johnny who he knew was struggling to put into words what happened. 

Kyle's brows furrowed, “Not herself?”

“She’s being controlled,” the captain explained, a solemn look in his eyes as his eyes met Kyle's.

“How do you know?”

Johnny rose to his feet, walking over to the table where the laptop had remained untouched; his hands were shaking a little as he picked it up, “Because the guy that’s controlling her left us a video of how he broke her…” 

Tagging:

You recognised his voice instantly; your body slowly relaxing back into the seat of the car as you looked at him.  

He glanced over, briefly meeting your eyes, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on the gearshift.

“You’ve been out for a while,” he said, concern lacing his voice as he continued, “You inhaled a load of smoke back there, how’s your head?”

You swallowed, slowly remembering what had happened, starting to understand why your throat felt so dry and why your eyes stung, “Fine.”

It was a lie. 

Of course it was. 

But you weren’t sure if your head hurt from the smoke you'd inhaled or because of the fact you were trying so hard to remember what had just happened, a fog lingering over the memories. 

You noticed a faint smile tug at the corner of his mouth, “Liar”

You didn’t answer him. 

You just let your eyes drift back out the window, the world outside of the car forming into a blur of dark trees and faint amber lights, streaking past the window like the memories you couldn’t catch. 

The hum of the engine filled that silence between you and Grey.

Your hands sat limp in your lap. 

The faint tremor in your fingers had faded, replaced by a dull, floating calm, the kind that came after too much adrenaline or too much pain.

“You did well tonight,” Grey said, breaking the silence that the two of you had been driving in. 

It wasn’t praise, not really. 

It was an observation, a gentle statement meant to settle into your mind like a seed.

His words seemed to make the fog that was around those memories begin to clear; you remembered where you’d been. 

Who you’d seen. 

John. 

Simon. 

Kyle…

Johnny…

You didn’t answer again, replaying the events of what had happened in your mind. 

“I know that it was hard for you tonight,” he went on, his tone even, reassuring, “Seeing them again, hearing them continue to lie to you,”

The echoes of the four men’s voices who you used to love filled your mind.

Grey had prepared you for John and Simons lies, you knew that they were going to twist the truth to suit them, of course they would, it made sense for them to, they wouldn’t admit that they’d left you as a sacrifice to the enemy.

But the fact that Johnny and Kyle backed them up, that surprised and hurt you, despite Grey's warning.

They told you that they didn’t leave you, that they’d tried to find you, that they had proof….

Your eyes flicked briefly towards Grey, replaying Simon’s words moments before he passed out.

"He’s lying"

You knew why he’d said it. 

To confuse you. 

To turn you against the only person you could completely trust. 

Grey wasn’t oblivious to how you were feeling, he could see you replaying everything over in your mind, overthinking the events that had happened.

 “Talk to me,” he urged softly, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath, staring down at your hands, remembering how the one holding the gun shook as you held John's head in place, and how the other had shot Kyle without any hesitation. 

 “I-I hesitated,” you murmured, the shame and guilt slowly eating away at you.

He waited for you to continue, knowing that there was more to your admission.

“I shot Kyle the minute I saw him…so that he couldn’t get close to me..” you began, “but I didn’t shoot Johnny, and when he started talking…my hand started shaking,”

“What did he say?”

“That I wasn’t the enemy,” you whispered, “that he knew deep down I didn’t want to hurt them, and they didn’t want to hurt me….”

Grey’s expression stayed calm, but his knuckles tightened slightly on the wheel, "And you believed him?”

You thought back to that moment; when Johnny got Simon to lower his weapon, how he looked at you with those big blue eyes, worry filling them. 

You shouldn’t have believed him.

But something inside you, did.  

“He got Simon to stop pointing his gun at me,” the way your voice sounded made it seem as though it was something that was a good thing; but given the way Grey was shaking his head, he believed differently.

“They were tricking you,” he stated solemnly, “they would’ve killed you the second you put your gun down,”

You squeezed your eyes shut, his words feeling like a dagger to your heart. 

You didn’t want to believe that Johnny had lied to you. 

You saw something in his eyes when he was walking closer to you, something that made your heart ache. 

“Remember what they did,” Greg began, his tone still calm, still patient, “they left you there, you almost died because of them….none of them tried to find you, otherwise they would’ve, but they didn’t, I did. ”

You didn’t answer. 

Processing his words. 

Grey was the one that found you in the cell you were being held captive in; he was the one that killed the guard standing outside the door. 

He was the one that stayed by your side at the hospital he’d taken you to, keeping you company, making sure you were rested, hydrated, safe. 

He saved you. 

The people that you'd loved had left you; they abandoned you...but why was Johnny looking at you like he was telling the truth...why did you hand shake when he started talking....almost like you didn't want to pull the trigger.

But you wanted revenge.

John deserved it.

Simon deserved it.

So why, when you had the opportunity to kill one of them, did the Scotsman's word make you hesitate.

Finally, Grey spoke again, his voice slicing through the silence, “You’re still conflicted. It’s not your fault, you loved them…I understand, but it makes you more susceptible to their deception, but I can help you fix that.”

The word made your chest tighten, “Fix?”

“Help you see things more clearly,” Grey smiled faintly, glancing over at you before focusing back on the road, “you want that don’t you, for your mind to be less noisy, to be able to do what you know you need to do without conflicting feelings or guilt” 

“Yes,” you nodded your head slowly, almost without realizing it, the words falling from your lips effortlessly. 

Grey smiled, that small, knowing curve of his lips that always made something inside you relax, the same expression he’d worn the first night he found you.

His hand left the gearshift and briefly brushed your knee, familiar, steady, grounding, “We’ll quiet it. Help you see things as they are,”

You didn’t know when the hum of the tires had changed, but now the sound beneath you was rougher, uneven. 

He’d turned off the main road. 

Outside, the trees grew closer together, their shadows swallowing the faint orange light from the streetlamps.

A low hum filled the car, not from the engine this time, but from the stereo of the car.

A tone, slow and steady, almost rhythmic.

It seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat. 

You didn’t recognize the melody, but something about it made your shoulders drop, the ache in your head dulling to nothing.

It made you relax, made the guilt and confusion inside you slowly fade away until you could no longer recall what you'd felt such feelings about. 

As the melody played on, your eyes grew heavy, continuing to get heavier with every moment that passed, until you couldn’t resist closing them.

“Sleep darling, we’ll fix you when we’re home,” you heard Grey whisper as your eyes fluttered shut; falling into a deep sleep almost instantly.

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