Fandom!Imagines

The arrangement that you and Robby have is nothing more than casual fucking. 

A way to relieve stress after a long day at work without having to give an explanation or delve too deep into painful details of the day either one of you had gone through. 

It worked. 

You and he still went on dates with other people occasionally; having both agreed that the causal relationship between the two of you could stop at any time if either of you wanted to try a more serious relationship with the person you or he had been on dates with. 

The only rule as such within this was that you both communicated with one another; meaning that you would tell Robby when you had a date and he would do the same. 

More so neither of you would be interrupted whilst on the date.

It was a simple rule. 

One that both of you had been pretty good at sticking too. 

So when one of your best friends set you up on a date with one of their guy friends, of course you told Robby. 

You expected him to have the same old usual response he always did, a small nod,  followed by a smile and him simply saying, “let me know when you’re home just so I know you haven’t been abducted”.

That’s not what happened this time though. 

Instead after you told him, he only replied with a blunt, “right, okay”.

The bluntness of his answer and the shortness in his voice caught you off guard, you were going to ask him about it, but you didn't get a chance to before a critical patient came in and he vanished to help them. 

You wondered if it was just because he was stressed out today and was wanting to relieve some of that stress by fucking you tonight, which now obviously wasn’t going to happen. 

But then when the end of your shift came around, he was still acting weird. 

“I need you to help me with this trauma we’ve got coming in,” he said just as you were pulling your bag from your locker. 

“Robby my shifts finished,” you answered back, wondering why on earth he needed you to stay when most of the night shift was already here. 

“Look, I get you’re going on a date tonight, but I hardly think that is more important than saving someone’s life,”

“I’m sorry?” You retorted, gobsmacked by what he’d just said and hurt by the implication of his words. 

A date was not more important than someone’s life. 

And you would’ve stayed if you knew that there weren’t people here already to help him with the incoming patient. 

“I think you need to re-evaluate your priorities if you wanna get anywhere in this field,” he continued harshly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could Jack appeared. 

He looked between you and Robby very obviously sensing the tension that was hanging heavy in the air between the you and Robby. 

“What’s going on?” He asked calmly, as though asking the question could make whatever this was that was simmering between the two of you, explode into a full blown argument.

Neither of you answered.

You stared at Robby, waiting for him to explain why he had suddenly decided to question your commitment to your job after working alongside you for as long as you had been.

Robby rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“We’ve got a major trauma inbound,” he said stiffly, “I just thought another pair of hands would help.”

Jack looked at Robby, frowning at his friend's answer, knowing well enough that there was more to it than what he was being told. 

He knew Robby well enough to know that when his tone was like this, he was lying, usually because he knew that he’d said something he shouldn’t. 

And if it wasn't obvious enough in his friends response, it was evident by the look of hurt and anger that was growing in your eyes.

Jack's gaze shifted towards you, his eyes soft and voice gentle as he said, “You can go kid, we’ve got this,”

You didn’t hesitate. 

As soon as you heard those words, you slipped past the two attendings and left to go and get ready for your date, purposely trying to forget the interaction you’d just had with Robby. 

~~~~~~

You’d tried to enjoy the date your friend had set you up on, you really did. 

But you couldn’t. 

Not really. 

Your mind kept drifting to Robby. 

To what he’d said. 

To how his whole demeanour seemed suddenly cold towards you the minute you told him you were going on a date. 

It didn’t make any sense to you and that just infuriated you more. 

He’d basically ruined your date without even being there.

You sighed as you unlocked the front door to your apartment, hanging your bag and jacket on the hook in the hallway before kicking your shoes of and heading into the living room.

The apartment was dark except for the lamp in the living room; the small glow of the lamp making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You were certain you turned the lamp off this morning before you went to work...

Cautiously you entered the living room, only to be greeted by the last person you expected to see tonight.

Robby was sitting on your sofa, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together...he'd been waiting for you.

"How was your date?" He asked, as though it was the most normal question in the world, like he hadn't just insulted you and your commitment to your job.

“What the fuck Robby? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice a mix of annoyance and shock.  

“You gave me a key,” he answered simply, rising to his feet, holding the key between his thumb and forefinger, glistening in the lamplight.

“I gave you that key for emergencies,” you corrected, fighting the urge to snatch it from him, “and it doesn’t look like there is one so why are you here?”

He rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck, trying to work out what to say.

He knew he’d hurt you and that he deserved the rage in your voice, but still being on the receiving end of your anger, of your hurt, made his heart hurt. 

Knowing that it was all his fault made it worse. 

“I… wanted to talk.”

“About my priorities? About how I value a date over people’s lives? How I basically shouldn’t continue training to be a doctor?” You snapped, fury burning deep in your eyes. 

He looked physically pained as you recited the words he’d spoken earlier back to him. 

And normally you’d care.

But you were too angry and to hurt to care right now. 

“No,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, “I came to apologize and explain-"

“Explain?” You interrupted, barely recognising the sharpness in your own voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, it didn’t work. 

“You don’t get to stand there and give me an explanation as to why I need re-evaluate my priorities after everything we’ve been through,”

Robby didn’t say anything, he just stared at you, listening to you. 

“And as for an apology do you really think an apology can fix this?” 

No; of course he didn't.

He just wanted to be honest with you...that was the only reason why he was here.

He knew he'd hurt you, and all he wanted to hold you,  console you, comfort you; in the hopes that it would take away all the hurtful words he’d said because he was too scared to admit his feelings.

But he couldn’t. 

He knew that right now, that wouldn’t help the situation at all. 

“I thought you knew me,”

“I do….”

And he did. 

He knew you. 

He knew how dedicated you were to your job, starting thirty minutes early before your shift just so you could get prepared for the day. 

He knew that you often missed lunch or took a shorter break if it meant that you could stay with a frightened patient.

Just last week you stayed behind for hours whilst a little girl was in theatre because she’d been so scared going into it and begged for you to be there when she woke up. 

But he didn’t just know you in a professional way…he knew you so much more personally and intimately than that. 

He knew you took your coffee with one sugar when you were exhausted, but black when you were stressed because you forgot to add anything else.

He knew you hummed random tunes under your breath when you were writing notes.

That you always tucked your hands into the sleeves of oversized hoodies when you were upset.

He also knew exactly where to press his lips against your neck to make you laugh because his beard tickled the side of your neck.

He knew how to make the bad day you’d had fade away whilst he fucked your brains out. 

And how you always wanted cuddles afterwards, even if you didn’t ask for them. 

“Apparently you don’t,” You shook your head, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes, “otherwise you wouldn’t have said something like that,”

His gaze dropped to the floor, “I don’t have an excuse for what I said,”

“No,” you agreed, “you don’t,”

It felt like the silence between the two of you dragged on for an eternity, even though it had probably only been for a few minutes. 

“I was angry,” he admitted quietly, breaking the silence. 

“At me?”

“No,” he answered quickly. 

You frowned, his answer confusing you even more than before, “Then who?”

“Myself,” he said, letting out a shaky breath, “for not being honest with you,”

“About what?” 

“I’ve been lying to you and to myself,” he admitted quietly, taking a few steps towards you, you didn’t move backwards, you stayed exactly where you were. 

“I told myself this arrangement worked because it was easy…no expectations, no chance of getting hurt…” he continued, “but somewhere along the way things changed…my feelings changed…and I…I fell in love with you.”

His confession pretty much knocked the air from your lungs, for a moment it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe.

He took another step towards you, closing the distance between the two of you, “When you told me you were going on that date….I got jealous, I hated the idea of you being with someone else and instead of admitting that, I lashed out at you and I’m so sorry I did,”

“You really hurt me,” you whispered honestly, wrapping your arms around yourself, as though trying to shield yourself from the memories of his words. 

“I know I did,” he acknowledged, his voice filled with regret, “and if you want me to leave, I’ll leave,”

His words made your chest tighten. 

You didn't want him to go...not really...

“if you wanna tell me this is over and you never want to see me again…I’ll completely understand, hell I’d deserve it, I just didn’t want the last thing I said to you to be a lie…”

You were processing what he’d said; it was a lot of information to take in all at once. 

Especially because despite constantly trying to ignore your feelings for Robby, you felt the same as he did. 

You were in love with him.

But you knew he’d never really been one for relationships so you just kept your feelings to yourself, believing that you could never have anything more with him. 

That’s why you continued to go on dates…more to distract yourself from your own feelings for a man you knew you could never have.

Yet now here that man was, confessing his love for you. 

“I’ll go,” he said hoarsely, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You watched as he reluctantly took a step backwards away from you, placing the key you'd given him on the side table before heading towards the door that led to the hallway.

“Robby,” 

The minute he heard his name fall from your lips, he stopped instantly.

“If you walk out that door…I’m going to assume you didn’t actually want me to stop you.”

Slowly, he turned back towards you.

“Do you really think I kept going on dates because I wanted someone else?” You questioned, shaking your head, “I wanted you, I just kept going because you never asked me not to,”

Before either of you could second guess it, Robby crossed the room, his hands rising to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. 

“If I kiss you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, your lips inches apart from one another's, “I’m not pretending this is casual anymore.,

“Robby...” you breathed, “I love you, I don’t want this to be casual-”

Robby’s lips were on yours before you could even finish your sentence. 

The kiss was nothing like all the others you’d previously shared.

There was no desperation born from a bad shift. 

No silent agreement that this was simply another way to forget the day. 

No invisible line either of you was pretending not to cross.

It was slow.

But filled with a passion that made your heart thrum rapidly in your chest. 

“No more casual?” You whispered your question against his lips, your eyes flicking up from his lips to his eyes. 

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, “no more casual,”

He didn’t say anything else; he simply kissed you again. 

Your fingers slid beneath the collar of his shirt deepening the kiss,  as his fingers instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer than you thought you could be to him. 

“You know,” he mumbled, briefly pulling his lips away from yours, “I did come here to apologize,”

“You did,"

“I don’t suppose you’re ready to forgive me yet?”

“Not yet” you began, snaking your arms around the collar of his shirt, slowly running your hands through his hair, "guess you’re going to have to show me how sorry you really are”

“That,” he said, giving you a quick peck before trailing his lips down your neck, softly sucking on the sensitive spot that he knew would elicit a moan from you, “is a challenge I’m more than happy to accept,"

Tagging:

“Please let me go, Jackie,” you begged, using your best puppy dog eyes as you stared at your boyfriend, hoping that they would get him to agree to what you were asking. 

It wasn’t a big thing. 

All you wanted to do was go to a club tonight with Dennis and Trinity. 

Trinity had mentioned it a few days ago and both you and Dennis had made sure to behave for Robby and Jack in order to go. 

Robby was fine with Dennis going, not that you really expected otherwise. But because he’d said yes to Dennis going, it was down to Jack to give you permission to go. 

“Denny’s going, so I’ll be looked after,” you continued your plea trying to reassure him that you would be absolutely fine.

You glanced over at Dennis, who was sitting on the arm of Robby’s chair and he simply gave you a small smile and a short nod, clearly wanting to not overstep by saying anything. 

Much like Robby who was sitting in said chair, eyes completely focused on the book he was reading. 

“I don’t know, baby girl,” Jack said honestly, his words turning your attention back to him as his eyes flicked between you and Dennis.

“Please,” you begged again, “We'll text you every hour so you know we're okay, and we’ll only be out for a few hours, right Denny?”

“Right,” Dennis confirmed truthfully, having already told Robby he wasn’t going out for the whole night.

“Okay, fine,” Jack sighed with a somewhat defeated tone as he rose to his feet, taking a few steps towards you.

“You’re serious?” You replied back, the shock clearly evident in your voice as he took a few steps towards you. 

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” you beamed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tight as his answer sunk in. 

He couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips at how excited you were about going, as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

Trying desperately to ignore the anxiety he had about you going was still burning a hole in his brain.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, of course he did. He’d just seen so many people come into the E.D after a night out gone wrong, and the thought of you being one of them made his stomach twist around in knots. 

But Dennis was going, and he trusted Dennis to look after you, the same way you’d look after him. 

He also knew that Trinity would put anyone in their place if someone even dared to touch either of you.

Jack pulled back slightly, his hands rising to your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes meeting yours, “But you text me every hour; if you’re a minute late I’m coming to the club to get you, understand?”

“Understood,” you answered back with a smile that melted his heart. 

“Go on then, go get ready,” he said, letting his hold on your cheeks go.

“Thank you, Jackie,” you repeated, pressing a small peck onto his lips before grabbing Dennis’ arm, practically running upstairs with him to go and get ready.

“You know she has you wrapped around her little finger, right?” Robby stated, staring at Jack from the top of his book. 

“I know,” Jack replied honestly; and he did, of course he did. 

He just hated saying no to you. 

“Much like Whitaker with you though,” Jack reminded his best friend, knowing that he was exactly the same with Dennis. 

“Touché,” Robby mumbled, his attention refocusing  back on his book; both of them silently hoping that they weren’t going to regret their decisions to let the ones they loved go clubbing without them. 

~~~~~~

You weren’t wearing anything drastic, jeans, a vest that exposed a small part of your cleavage and boots; that was it. 

You knew you were already lucky to be going out to a club in the first place, the last thing you wanted to do was push that luck. Wven if Jack would’ve been fine with it (which you knew he probably wouldn’t be), Robby definitely wouldn’t be and given that he was the one that was dropping you and Dennis off at the club, you decided to play it safe in regards to what you were wearing. 

“Remember, texts to me and Jack every hour,” Robby reminded as you and Dennis both got out of the car. 

“Of course,” Dennis nodded, leaning over the console in the middle of the car to kiss Robby on the lips before getting out of the car. 

“We’ll be careful,” you promised, leaning forward from your seat in the back to give him a kiss on the cheek, before following Dennis towards the club. 

“I still can’t believe they agreed to let us come,” you mumbled to Dennis as you both made your way to the entrance of the club to meet Trinity.

“Me neither,” Dennis agreed, still shocked that Robby and Jack agreed to it. 

They were protective partners. 

Fiercely protective. 

But it was only because of the love they had for you Dennis; they didn’t want anything to happen to either of you.

But both Robby and Jack knew that they couldn’t keep you and Dennis away from the world, you were both young and needed to enjoy it, so if that meant agreeing for you both to go clubbing for a few hours, they would manage that. 

Just about. 

“There you both are!” Trinity said, her voice louder than usual to be heard over the beat of the music blaring inside.

“C’mon I need a drink,” she continued, linking her arm with yours as she walked you towards the door; you grabbed Dennis’ hand as she pulled you towards the entrance, excitement buzzing in your veins. 

Robby waited outside in the car until he saw you, Dennis and Trinity disappear into the club. 

Part of him was tempted to just stay outside in case anything happened; but he was so exhausted from his shift today that he could barely keep his eyes open.

He knew if there were any issues, you or Dennis would call, and he knew that if he was needed he could get here in ten minutes if he broke the speed limits.

With that thought in mind, Robby text Jack to say that he’d dropped you and Dennis off and that you were both with Trinity, before driving back home.

The minute he was home, he headed for bed, making sure to take his phone off of silent mode and turn the volume all the way up, so he could hear it if it rang and so he’d be able to hear the chime of texts coming through every hour. 

~~~~~~

The first hour passed by quickly.

You, Dennis and Trinity had claimed a small table tucked away from the dance floor, laughing over mocktails for you and Dennis while Trinity happily worked her way through some bright blue cocktail that she insisted ‘tasted better than it looked’.

And given the way she finished it so quickly; you believed that she must’ve been right. 

“Hour’s up,” Dennis said as he pulled his phone from his pocket, stopping the alarm that he’d set before you’d both left the house. 

Dennis: Everything’s good. We’re both safe, Y/n/ns  eaten fries she stole from my plate, and Trinity’s threatening anyone who looks at us funny.

Dennis quickly typed out the promised text message to Robby and Jack; and within seconds Jack had already replied back. 

Jack: Good. Have fun, both of you. And stay safe!

A few moments later Robby replied. 

Robby: Just remember to be careful.

You couldn’t help but snort at the protective message from Jack and Robby, always so overprotective. 

“They’re ridiculous,” you chuckled, leaning into Dennis as he put his phone back in his jean pocket.

“Only because they love us,” Dennis whispered back, placing a small kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re all sickening,” Trinity said seriously but the smirk that tugged on her lips was enough for both you and Dennis to know she wasn’t actually serious. 

Before either you or Dennis could respond; the music changed to something faster. 

A song Trinity clearly loved given how quickly she finished her cocktail before practically jumping to her feet, pulling you up with her, “Dancefloor time!”

You happily followed her lead, your other hand still linked with Dennis; the three of you making your way to the crowded dancefloor. 

It was exactly what you’d hoped tonight would be.

Normal.

Fun.

Carefree.

You danced until your feet were beginning to ache and laughed until your sides hurt.

Dennis spun you around dramatically before nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Graceful,” you teased with a smirk tugging at the side of your mouth. 

“I meant to do that,” he contested with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“Sure you did Huckleberry,” Trinity replied, rolling her eyes, making all three of you burst out laughing again. 

Eventually, you wandered back toward the edge of the dance floor for a breather while Dennis headed to the bar to grab another round of drinks.

Meanwhile, Trinity was talking to you about her situationship with Dr Garcia. 

Of course you listened; what friend wouldn't? But in all honesty you didn’t really know what to say to her, any advice you could give her now was advice you and Dennis had given her already. 

You opened your mouth to say something but got cut off when you felt a hand grip your wrist; instinctively you jumped and turned around. 

“You’re really p-pretty,” a man, who was clearly drunk, hiccupped as he staggered closer to you, his hold on your wrist tightening, “come dance with me,”

“No thank you,” you answered politely, trying to pull away from him subtly, not wanting to cause any trouble.

But the man didn’t let go.

“I said come and dance with me,” he repeated, tugging you away from Trinity; you tried to stay still, to keep your feet planted firmly where they were. 

“Trin-” you managed to call out, but the man tugged your arm again causing your foot to catch the edge of someone else’s shoe, tripping you up.

“Y/n!” You heard Trinity shout, but it was already too late. 

Everything seemed to happen too slow and too fast all at once. 

Too slow to not be aware of the fact that you were indeed falling: but too fast to be able to try and regain your balance.

The drunk man’s grip slipped from your wrist as you began to fall forwards, only for your shoulder to clip another person, making your body spin slightly before you landed on the floor with a thud. The side of your head cracking sharply against the hard floor.

A groan fell from your lips as you lifted your head up, your hand instantly moving to the side of your head that the pain was shooting through. 

Dennis was there before you even managed to properly register what had happened.

“Y/n/n!”

His voice cut through the music as he dropped the drinks he’d just collected, plastic cups crashing to the floor, mocktails splashing across the tiles as he shoved through the crowd.

“Baby,” he said breathlessly, falling to his knees beside you, “hey, look at me,”

You did as he asked, your watery y/e/c eyes meeting his. 

“Denny…my head hurts…” you whisper as he carefully moved your hand away so he could assess the injury, unable to stop yourself from wincing in pain 

“I know baby, I know,”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Trinity yelled, making you flinch slightly, everything seeming so much louder now.

She’d planted herself directly between you, Dennis and the drunken man, every inch of her body screaming don’t even think about it.

“I just wanted a dance,” slurred the drunken man nonchalantly.

“You grabbed her!” Trinity continued as the music slowly died off, turning everyone’s attention to the scene unfolding before them, “she tried to get away and you just kept on pulling her!”

Before the man could say anything, security rushed over clearly noticing the commotion that was occurring on the dance floor, 

“What happened?” He asked calmly, stepping between Trinity and the drunken man, his eyes narrowing in concern as he looked at you. 

“What happened is this dick couldn’t take no for a fucking answer,” Trinity seethed, “he asked my friend to dance, she said no, but he didn’t wanna hear that so decided to drag her over anyway causing her to fall and whack her head on the floor,”

Had you not been in so much pain you would’ve  wanted the ground to swallow you up as all eyes darted between you and the drunken man; but as it was, all you could do was focus on Dennis as he asked you questions, clearly trying to gauge if you had a concussion. 

They were simple questions like: 

‘What’s your name?’

‘Do you know what day it is?’  

‘Do you know where we are?’ 

All of which you answered easily, reassuring him. 

But the next set of answers you gave were not as reassuring. 

“Blurred vision?” 

“Not anymore,” you answered back. 

“Do you have a headache?”

You nodded slowly.

“Do you feel sick?”

“A little,” you replied, knowing that your answers to those two questions meant that you would have to go to hospital; which meant telling Robby and Jack about what happened. 

Dennis nodded knowing what your answers meant as well. 

“It’s okay, baby, you’re gonna  be okay,” he tried to assure you, placing one of his hands on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“He’s being kicked out,” Trinity spoke, kneeling down on the opposite side of you, placing her hand on your shoulder carefully, fury still burning clearly in her eyes, “and they’ve already called for an ambulance to come and get you,”

“I don’t need-”

“Yes you absolutely do,” Trinity interrupted, not in a harsh way but in a firm way. 

“She’s right,” Dennis continued,  “you know she is, especially with the symptoms you’ve got,” 

“Robby and Jack are never gonna let me out the house again,” you breathed, glancing at Dennis, “are they?”

“Probably not,” Dennis answered, “at least maybe not for a little while,”

As if on cue, Dennis’ phone vibrated, he pulled it from his pocket seeing Robby’s name illuminating the screen.

Within all the chaos he’d missed the alarm reminder to text him and Jack with any updates; and the time was now five minutes past the hour...

So now it meant that he was going to have to explain this over a call, knowing that Robby and Jack would probably already be pacing with worry, anxiously waiting for an answer. 

For a moment, you considered asking Dennis not to tell Robby; you knew he’d had a long day and the last thing you wanted to do was drag him back to the place he’d only been out of for just five hours. He needed to sleep; needed to rest so that he could be ready for tomorrow's shift. 

But you also knew that Dennis wouldn’t lie to Robby, and that sooner or later he would find out because Jack would tell him the minute you arrived at the hospital. 

And you knew that there was no way Dennis was going to take you home without having you checked over properly first. 

Besides, you wouldn’t be able to act like you were totally fine, not with how your head was pounding. 

Robby would know.

And you also didn’t want to lie to him. 

Dennis explained what had happened; and you desperately tried to ignore what he was saying, hating the fact that you’d fundamentally ruined the night out. 

And you were going to cause Robby and Jack to worry. 

“He’s going to meet us at the hospital,” Dennis said softly, sliding his phone away again. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, leaning closer into Dennis, “I ruined our night out,”

He simply shook his head, “You have absolutely nothing to apologise for, baby, you didn’t ruin anything.”

“But-”

“This isn’t your fault,” Trinity stated matter of factly, leaving little room for argument.

“Exactly,” Dennis finished,  his thumb stroking your knuckles, “So stop apologising for something someone else did, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, not totally convinced by Trinity or Dennis’ words, but given how your head was still hurting and a wave of exhaustion was washing over you, you chose to agree rather than argue with them. 

Tagging:

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: