‧˚꒰🐾୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The 10-in-1 shower gel might be okay for the white boys, but he will not be caught with ashy skin, if he can help it. The others might joke that he takes so long, but when they go to the pub, Gaz is glowing. Skin soft and moisturized, hair and beard fresh, precisely styled, smelling good with a hint of Shea butter and coconut.

Despite the jokes, the others appreciate his suggestions. Ghost admits that the body butter Gaz gave him helps with the scars, and if he seems eager when Gaz massages his shoulders with it, then it's nobody's business.

Price adapts his beard routine, adding some products and follows Gaz' to a barber who does excellent work.

Soap openly asks for help finding the right aftershave, since he never really cared but girls seem to appreciate a soldier who knows how to take care of himself. Also the net sponge is a nice little tool to get rid of dead skin and can be used to carry things as well.

And while they are not completely ignorant, they learn a lot about growing up and having to navigate Britain as a black boy. So they get lessons in personal hygiene and everyday racism at the same time and appreciate Gaz even more for both.

~~~~~

Any other mermaid would swim and hide for cover. Any other mermaid would try to protect themselves from the unknown.

But you're not just any other mer-person.

You're a tainted one.

An unlovable one.

One that no one wants.

So what do you do when this large mass enters your tank?

P1 P2(your here) P3

once again dedicated to @kopidopi16 who we should thank for writing the first half i just kinda edited it then wrote the rest

your in and out of consciousness seeing visions of the man and the interior of a car After awhile the venom started to fade slowly as you wake up still quite groggy and dizzy, you feel around trying to make sense of everything that happened the last thing you remember was seeing was the couple from the cafe,

Feeling around some more you take note of the soft and silky covers you are laying on, you try and open your eyes Feeling how heavy they are you can only look around a bit before dropping your head down onto the pillow once again and turn over onto your tummy your eyelids feeling heavy,

Suddenly you hear a soft shuffling and open your eyes again and see the man from last night you try to recall his name, Price?

"Hey sweetheart… be slow the venom is still in your system." He slowly reaches down and brushes your hair out of your face and you flinch slightly immediately regretting it as your hit with a wave of nausea and groan

"What's going on?" Trying to speak you hear your words slur and your now aware of how dry you mouth is

He looks down at you with a slight grimace at your state "I know baby, I know it feels icky doesn't it huh? your papa is bringing you some water."

you feel completely out of it and start to feel tears well up in your eyes completely disoriented and confused despite this you manage to use your words "why are you doing this?" your voice comes out weaker then you wanted and it makes him sigh

"im sorry little one, i mean i was thinking about it but i was going to wait, take my time, your papa however acted prematuraly" well that doesn't help at all, you have so many questions but your mouth feels like someone stuffed cotton in it your still surprised you got that first sentence out at all

the door swings open and you see the man who bit you walk in holding a glass of water "ahh baby you are awake" he walks over and kisses you on the forehead using his hand to check your forehead for a fever "your running a bit hot little one, here" he tilts your head so he can pour the water in you want to protest but your so thirsty so you let him

it's a quiet moment not calm not peaceful but quiet with Nikolai holding your head basically in his lap to give you the water, Price watching with a fond look in his eyes

there's a bang outside the door and a string of hushed curses that makes you jolt up 'there's other people here?!' you don't say anything as Nikolai pats your hair trying to calm you down as price decides to explain "it's just your brother, he was excited to hear about you, we told them to stay away while you adjust"

you panic still confused and dazed you blurt out "what, i don't have a brother!?"

Nikolai chuckles "you do now, you have three of them and if i had to guess the one snooping outside is probably Johnny" your going to vomit, how could you forget they already have three sons god are they vampires as well? because that's definately what these two are there's no other word for it

"you bit me" you accuse

"oh i know baby im sorry" he nuzzles your neck in apology but the familiar sensation of his face near your neck sets you off shoving at his chest with all the strength you have left you manage to get out of his hold but right as he tries to pull you back into his arms he's stopped by Price

"Nik, your scaring her" Price moves you around until your under the blankets and thankfully he lets go "you know how flegdlings are"

Nikolai straightens up and pats your head "fine" he leans down planting a kiss on your head "go to sleep dear" you don't get much time to process the acts of affection or the sudden drowsyness that falls over you like a thick blanket

guys scary but one of my series is coming to an end maybe two depending on how the next part for one of them goes

P1(your here) P2

this is a gift for @kopidopi16 because we where texting and both decided today is a cuddly day i was having trouble coming up with an idea for this and i wasn't going to write more then one part but then i rewatched sleepy princess in the demon castle which btw 100% recommend this won't be a lore heavy series but more a cuddly story

I makea da rules then I impregnata da boys bada bing bada boom

Drabble: Alpha Taking Care of Battle-worn Omega

Worldbuilding: Species and Deities in Eebee’s Omegaverse

Fic: Lone Wolf Assassin MaleOmega!Reader x Feral Alpha Healer: Part 1

Fic: Lone Wolf Alpha Assassin MaleOmega!Reader x Feral Alpha Healer: Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Varin Ref - Reader Armor Ref

“Let me fucking in- let me in- let me in- let me in-“ is all he can really manage, despite how your legs are wide and your hole is practically ruined from his cock at this point.

You don’t know when you’re going to get the chance that you’re a guy- your pitiful soaked cock dragging against the sheets seems to do nothing to convince him.

You’re not completely sure yourself anymore that he won’t get you pregnant, with how much cum as filled your poor belly.

That's it! Is that too much to ask for? Something delicious in the dead of night to hopefully cure the absolutely dreadful sleep you've been having. You've always slept better on a full stomach, and a grilled cheese is easy to make.

Or, so you thought.

Turns out, cooking anything on less than three hours of sleep the past two days will result in flames so tall they touch the ceiling. Which led to the hottest fireman you've ever seen carrying you down a ladder after you realized the fire blocked your tiny entrance hallway.

"You alright, love?" The man sits you down gently. Somewhere between your panic and his attempt to soothe he introduced himself as kyle.

"...you're the most attractive man I've ever met." You say honestly, sleep deprivation having zapped your filter.

Vampire!TF141x witch!Gn!reader

Summary: a lonely and rejected witch catches the eyes of the four vampires that just moved into town. Their deep desire for the witch has only just begun.

Word count: 2.k

Warnings: harassment(not from 141), fighting, violence, stabbing, blood, polyamorous

Note: the vampires have special powers! To not get confused lol.

<- Series Masterlist - regular Masterlist ->

The room felt cold when you opened your eyes. The morning sun beaming through your bedroom window, basking the room in a golden glow. the morning has a bite to the air that makes you chilled, but that won't last long now the season is getting hotter. Rolling over, you look towards the window, seeing how you accidentally left it cracked from the night before. You lowly groan, finally lifting yourself up out of bed, your feet touching the cold floor while your bones crack as you stretch.

Looking at the clock on the bedside table, it reads "9:24am" you sigh, knowing you were planning to go to town today. The towns folk didn't greet you with warm smiles like they did with each other, they glared and looked the other way. The towns folk knew you were a witch, so naturally they were afraid of you, humans were always afraid of the unknown. Walking up to the window, you close it shut, making the room more quiet. Might as well start getting ready now.

~♡~

Walking along the forest surrounded path always felt like a blanket of doom rested on your shoulders, heavy with dread as you thought about how the village folk will look at you once you stepped out of these woods. With nothing but disgust and fear. Shaking your head, your grip tightens on your leather bag strap, theres no point in wallowing in their judgment. But the anxiety continues to weigh down heavy in your chest, making you frown.

until it suddenly lifts, disappearing quickly and is replaced by a warm and lighter feeling of content. It makes your skin feel warm against the chilly morning air. You stop in your tracks, taken off guard by the sudden change in mood. Now looking around as if it would help you figure out what had caused the mood shift, but you find nothing but trees. The sun beaming through the leaves make the thick forest spotted with glowing gold, lighting up the ground in its wake. But you still find nothing between the swaying trees.

Theres a moment of silence while you stand there in the middle of the path, letting yourself feel the energy of the space around you. You can feel a faint foreign energy you've never felt before while taking this path, but the warmth flooding your body covers it well, making it impossible to tell what it could be from. After a moment of simply letting the warmth sit in your chest, you decided to continue on down the path. Shaking your head at your ridiculous reaction. Its probably just you accepting that the towns folks opinion is shit, or a hidden panic attack.

Making it to the village didn't take long, especially with the new found determination to get your errands done and get home before nightfall. You stop by multiple shops during the day, buying fruit, vegetables, ingredients, books, and supplies to last you another few weeks, the more you get this supply run the longer you will get to wait until you have to return to this forsaken village.

The sun is setting as you enter the last shop of the day. The bell above the door rings out through the stone walls, alerting the shop owner. A old woman dressed in scarves and layers of fabric emerges from the back room, making eye contact with you. She smiles at you "well well! Look who's back" you offer her a smile back "good evening Eleanor" Eleanor is the only villager that was ever nice to you, she doesn't judge a book by its cover. Always offering you a bright smile and kind words. You are greatful she doesn't ask questions either.

you take a look around her shop. Medicines in bottles on the shelves where they usually are, along with bandages and other Medical idems. "What have you been up to lately?" Eleanor asks with a hint of mischief in her voice, making you look towards her behind the counter. Only to find her already looking at you. "Um" you look away from her "just been focusing growing some new herbs in my garden" you look back to her form "Why?" You question her, knowing she never usually pries into what you do outside of the village.

"Well" she starts "The village has some new neighbors. They live somewhere in the forest im guessing. Have you met them?" She says it casually, making you shrug while you take a bandage for sale off the shelf. "New neighbors? I can't say ive noticed anyone out of the ordinary" you say. Which makes her laugh "they are definitely out of the ordinary all right" that makes you pause, frowning your eyebrows in confusion at her words "How so?" She beams, almost to excited at the idea of gossiping "they're vampires" the words hung in the air, the silence thick with tension that seemed to be only coming from you.

Vampires? You think, you've never encountered a vampire before, let alone multiple of them. "Vampires?" You say, putting the medicine and bandages on the counter to pay for them. Eleanor nods her head "isn't that something!" She leans closer over the counter "maybe you five could be friends! They are lovely gentlemen, good on the eyes as well if i do say so myself" she winks, her wrinkly face smiling as she teases. Five? Theres four vampires here!? Your mind is full of rushing thoughts, how did you not feel their energy? Surely you would've felt them by now.

"Here you go dear" Eleanor pulls you from your thoughts, handing you your purchases without a bag, knowing you'll just shove them into your magical leather bag anyway. "Now listen" she beckons you closer to her "be careful in those woods you hear?" She pats your face, her rings cold against your skin, before sending you out the door. Telling you to turn the "open" sigh to "closed" on your way out as she heads to the back room to clean up for the day.

The sun is fully set when you step out of the shop. The sky is a midnight blue as it covers the land in darkness, making you realise you have to walk back through the woods in the complete dark. You huff out a frustrated sigh, eleanor with her gossip. You make your way through the dimly lit village, passing by shops that are now closed. Your footsteps lowly echo on the stone sidewalk, followed by crickets and the sound of frogs in the cracks of the builds.

Suddenly you feel a drop in your stomach, a sickening feeling of alarm shoots through you as you walk, your intuition blaring red sirens in every way it could. Before you could react to the dark feeling, a hand grips your arm tightly and pulls you roughly into the dark ally beside you. Your world spins as your thrown into the stone wall. Two voices are heard laughing "we were waiting for you, witch" a mans voice cuts through the air, making you look up to see two male villagers in front of you, looking at you with smug smirks on their faces.

The other puts his hand on your jaw, slamming it back into the concrete, making you let out a small groan of pain whilst your head spins in dizziness. Fear fills your body while you reach to open your bag and find something to protect yourself with, but one of men yank it the strap over your head and throw it to the ground. Theres disgust on their face as they look at you, before a wave of eerie excitement crosses one of them "Ive been wanting to do this this the moment i heard there was a witch over staying its welcome" he reaches to the side of his belt, before pulling out a slick blade. It gleams in the lantern light, striking more fear into your heart immediately.

You don't notice it immediately, but you can feel it before you see the dark inky shadow wrapping its way around the man beside the one holding the knife. His yelp making your head turn to him as he suddenly goes flying into the wall in front of you, hitting it with a loud crash. The wind knocked from his lungs as you and his friend watch him get thrown to the ground in shock. A shadow now forms above him. Dark as a void as it stands tall, its face is dark but you can make out a rough shape of a skull. Its energy is dark and incredibly angry.

The man with the knife tightens his grip on it, his breathe getting faster as he looks at the shadow, before turning to you. "Damn witch!" He thinks this is one of your spells. But you can only stare in shock at the dark figure. Until a sharp angry pain blooms across your stomach, making you yelp out in pain and drop to your knees. "Bitch!" The man tries to take off running out of the ally, but one of the shadows tendrils wraps around his ankle, making him trip and land on his stomach.

The man screams in fear as the shadow throws him around angrily, knocking him into his friend thats already on the ground. You watch in terror, thinking you're next. Blood seeps through your clothes as you lean back against the wall, the pain from the stab is almost unbearable. "Hey bonnie" a Scottish accent says, their proximity very close to you. You jump, turning your head to be met with a man crouching in front of you. When did he get there? His eyes flicker to where your holding your stab wound, worry evident in his gaze.

He switches to his knees, inching closer to you "let me see" he gently grabs your arm, pulling your hand away from your stomach. You make a sound of pain, your breath coming out uneven "I know hen, its okay" he says softly. He glances back to where the shadow is fighting the two men, before looking back to you. His eyes locked on yours "you have to trust me okay?" He doesn't wait for your reply as he reaches his hand out and puts his hand gently on your stomach.

His touch is warm, immediately making the wound no longer bleed or hurt. Your breath starts to slow, your head getting drowsy. "They got you pretty good didn't they?" He says lowly, His other hand reaching up to rest on your head, somehow already knowing the villagers smashed your head into the wall. The pain from your wound is no longer there as he keeps his hand steady on your stomach. A warmth that can almost be considered hot radiates from his hand, soothing you even while the two men get dealt with in the background.

Darkness starts to cloud your vision slowly, feeling yourself beginning to fade out of consciousness between him and the wall. "You're alrigh'" you can't seem to feel fear anymore even while you slip into darknness. His reassuring energy mixed with the comfort of healing makes it easy to let yourself go. The last thing you catch before passing out was the sound of two new voices echoing off the alleyways stone walls, speaking words your mind can't comprehend in your sleeping state.

To be continued...

<- Series Masterlist - regular Masterlist ->

water drips off the edge of the porcelain tub, meeting the floor with tiny splashes. there’s already water damage in the cracks of tiles, but callahan doesn’t bother to call a repairman for it.

“what’s up with you?” he speaks, without the usual bite in his tone.

his brows are furrowed, but not with his routinely frustrated expression. he has that face of concern stuffed beneath a gruff exterior he tries so hard to maintain. it’s difficult when he has a naked thing in front of him with water streaking down the jut of collarbones and rounded shoulders.

“nothing,” you breathe back, the exhaustion weighing your eyes, and similarly your will to bite back something witty.

callahan is equally as naked as you, as one is in a bath tub.

“you’re quiet,” he notes the obvious, his fingers wading through the water before they surfaced. you expect him to reach for the soap behind you, but he doesn’t, he reaches to the side of your neck, fingers smoothing over to your nape. he holds firmly, not tightly, enough to feel the gentle thrum of a heartbeat against his fingers.

“you’re not sick.” he was feeling for a fever, or so he tells himself. “you’re not cold either.”

“tell me what’s wrong, tired?” a familial warmth bleeds through his tone, almost fatherly if you rubbed the sleep from your eyes enough for them to blur.

you don’t respond. callahan sighs, pushing his free hand through his hair.

“c’mere.”

you feel the warmth of his palm spread to your back as he pulls you in, his hands constricting around you until you filled out the space he made in his arms. he pushes your head a little too stiffly into the crook of his neck, feeling your wet forehead slap against his skin a little too loudly. he grunts something, which you take as an apology when it likely wasn’t.

he cradles the back of your head, fingers threaded in your hair. he’s never held you like this.

you turn your head to him, maybe to see if he was playing with you, if he was pulling a smile too wide for it to be genuine. but he wasn’t, his eyes met yours and you could see the minuscule twitches, the way that age ebbed away at features that would’ve been sharper if he was younger.

“what do you want?” he murmurs, his thumb wedging under your chin to hold it up a bit more—just so your eyes could meet more levelled.

“what do you want from me?” his words are a little more punchy; he had dug up a small bit of his morals that you seemed to nibble away at each time he came home just to be met with you.

"It's not fit for duty." John barely suppresses a growl when Simon points that out for the fourth time, his eyes tracking you like a hawk. "You need to send it home -"

John snarls, snapping his teeth in Simon's face as a very quick correction. "I'm well aware they aren't cut out for the force." He grumbles as he watches you wobble slightly, sitting down heavily on your ass as sleep claimed you again. "That's our new pup. Training purposes."

Simon stares at him in disbelief, tail wagging slowly as he weighs his options. "You've gone soft."

"If you think they aren't fit, you tell them to pack up and go home." John states, which makes Simon's ears pin. "What? It's not cut out for the force, so it should go home."

"You're the Captain."

"You're the one with the most complaints."

Simon watches as you slowly rouse awake, one of the other soldiers nudging you gently into a sitting position. "Like I said, perfect for training. Rescue, medical, even make them a drug plant."

Simon lets out a quiet rumble, calling you over so you could get out of the way. "Rest here, pup. That's enough for you today."

"Yes, sir!" You plop down between the two superior officers, head resting gently in John's thigh. His hand strokes between your ears absently as he watches the rest of the soldiers run drills.

He knows the kind of person he is, the blood that's on his hands, and he doesn't want to make a child experience that. Some deep part of him is terrified he'll be just like his father. He grimaces at the thought of even being around kids long enough to become a role model.

That is, until he holds your baby for the first time.

She's a feisty little thing, the spitting image of her father, kyle. He had wanted to invite simon over for weeks now, show off the little miracle you made. The footie match on the telly goes completely ignored when kyle hands her to ghost, smiling "watch out, she likes to move."

"She's...small." ghost whispers, frozen in place as he cradles the baby. Wide eyes blink up at him, little arms waving as if trying to acclimate to his hold. Ghost looks between you and baby, brows pinched in worry "is she supposed to be this small? Is– is she okay?"

"Yes, she's supposed to be small, simon." Gaz answers for you, already pulling out his phone while you lean forward to adjust ghosts hands.

He's so big, baby could easily be held in two palms. She stares up at him for a moment longer, then squeals in delight and kicks her feat happily.

You watch in real time as ghost melts, leaning back into the sofa and holding the doughy little baby to his chest. His eyes crinkle into a smile, and you suddenly understand why gaz was so insistent about this.

"You're a natural, simon. She'll love you." Kyle rests a hand on ghosts shoulder. There's more behind the gesture than you can understand.

Later, while you and kyle take some much needed alone time cooking together in the kitchen, ghost will still be sat with baby on the couch. Whispering stories to her that only earn sleepy babbles.

They know you’ve nose dived past tipsy when you tip sideways and land your head in Gaz’s lap, a little too hard.

“Oof—!” Kyle flinches up for a second at the impact, “careful, honey.”

“Sorry,” you smush your cheek into his thigh, hand coming up to fumble around blind for his hand. When you finally find it you forcefully move it to be on your head.

He knows his cue, his hand moving to caress your head without your aid. You instantly melt further into him and hum in content.

John smirks in amusement and continues sipping from his beer, Johnny just smiles as Simon rolls his eyes fondly. They like to take bets on how many drinks you’ll go before succumbing to the clingy urges—tonight it was 5.

They let the silence linger for a while before Johnny breaks it. “Anyone want’a play cards?” He suggests smugly.

Kyle looks up from where he was playing with your hair to glare at him. You have a sort of drunken routine and Johnny knows the suggestion of cards will get you up off Kyle, and clinging to Johnny instead. All part of his master plan.

Right on time, you shoot off of Kyle, an excited look in your eyes.

“Yes! I’m on Johnny’s team.” You declare.

You loved being on a team with Johnny because most times when you played cards you were drunk off your ass and would not win, but Johnny was so good at cards it didn’t matter.

It was stupid because no one else was in teams…you just freeloaded off Johnny and bragged like you had won the game yourself, but the guys put up with it. It really wasn’t “put up with”…they would kill for you. Letting you brag about a card game was the least of what they’d do for you. Besides, they liked to see the smug smile and receive your teases.

Even if they did care, Johnny would force them to let it happen, because when you were checked out “winning the game,” you would wrap yourself around Johnny, trying to steal his warmth as he worked to win the game for you both. Which was a situation Johnny deemed more than enough payment for your freeloading.

So, you plopped down beside Johnny as he shuffled the cards, arms wrapping around his bicep and cheek smushing up into his shoulder. It made it incredibly hard for him to continue his shuffling, but he didn’t say anything.

Kyle was still glaring as he sat across the table and collected his cards.

“Siiiiii…can you get me another shotttt…” you mumble against Johnny shoulder. You strategically waited until he stood to join cards so that he would have to comply.

He would get you whatever you wanted even if he was halfway around the world, but you felt clever this way.

He just grunted and went to the kitchen, returning with a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.

Simon shared a look with John, a small tilt of his head and an approving look from John verifying that the glass indeed just contained water.

You took it with a chaser and were none the wiser.

You spent the rest of the game practically falling asleep on Johnny’s shoulder, only waking up once he won to bravely announce your victory. And as such, you got to choose the movie.

You play your favorite, the one that you’ve forced them to watch hundreds of time and they’ve never complained about, before jumping onto the couch and plopping your back against Simon’s chest.

He’s so expansive that he makes the best pillow. You can let all your muscles relax and he’ll wrap his arms around you and make sure you stay upright, leaving you able to make his bicep into your pillow. Plus he’s incredibly warm, so all around, he’s your favorite movie companion.

You spend most of the movie in a half-asleep, comfy, drunken daze until the end credit music wakes you back up.

You yawn a little and extract yourself from Simon, crawling the short distance into John’s lap. Your legs straddle him and you wrap your arms around his neck because you know he’ll carry you to your room. He might stall a little just to hold you longer but you don’t notice…or care.

Finally he stands, hands supporting you as he lifts you away. “Alrigh’, swee’heart…up we get. I got you.”

He shares one last fond smile with the boys before he takes you back to your room.

The youngest sibling last at home, the last kid not in a group, the single one, the lonely one, the one no one wants.

It’s fine. You’re being dramatic. It’s not like that at all, not as intentional or as malicious as you make it out to be. It’s just the way the pieces landed and that’s fine. You’ve been like this your whole life and you’re okay with it by now.

You’re okay with the way it feels like everyone else would have someone who cares if they went missing. You’re okay with feeling like a piece of roadkill left on the side of the road. The way people look at you in half sympathy and half morbid curiosity. How it feels like you stink of abandonment, how it warns people off. They’re glad it’s not them and you’re fine that it’s you.

You think it would be fine if someone would just stay too. Not move on to greener pastures. To finally be the greener pasture. The final destination, the goal and not the…stupid yet entertaining pit stop that people got to say “that’s nice” to and then forget. And somehow you still always think they’ll stay. Ignore the signs until they’re already long gone.

So yeah, you are stupid. Because you just can’t seem to kill that small part of you that hopes every time.

Which is why so much dread fills you when you’re introduced to your new squad and they’re nice. Really nice. They remember your name and acknowledge you…all the time. Not just the first day you’re introduced, but every breakfast and lunch and team meeting and training exercise and debrief…they look at you. Talk to you. Listen to you.

Maybe you have a low bar.

You’ve been waiting to fall into the background. Let the funnier and more talented people take the spotlight, let everyone forget you exist and let them leave easy. You’re counting down the hours until they’re gone. It’s no use putting up a fight anymore.

You never quite relax. Always skittish or sitting on the edge of your seat like you’re looking for the first opportunity to run. It just makes them want to anchor you more. Show that you can trust them.

They see the signs. It’s not their first time dealing with a flight risk. They know by the way you look shocked when they ask your opinion, or if you’ll come to an after hours hang out, that you’re waiting for the moment they give up on you.

But it never comes. They never let you disappear.

You finally start to give in to hope. Maybe naively or prematurely, but you’ve been on guard for so long it’s hard to not lean into the warmth they are giving so freely.

Which is why when you’re taken prisoner in an impossible situation, you know there’s no hope for rescue. That what you had feared would finally come.

The situation was too complicated—too dire—to risk. Even conceptualizing your rescue you knew it would be too difficult. No general in their right mind would approve a mission to get a soldier back from the situation you’re in.

At least that’s what you thought until your team busted down the doors.

You can only stare in disbelief as they take down the enemies in the room, trying to remember if you had been given anything that would cause hallucinations.

You’re still questioning when Soap’s warm hands find your wrists, loosening your binds.

“You didn’t really think we’d ever leave you behind, did ya?” He clearly sees your disbelief. His voice has a color of humor, but there’s a softness that lets you know it’s a real question.

You thought for sure they would.

“But—I…Shepherd?” It’s the only think you can think to express your confusion.

Price looks back from his protective stance at the door, hand still firmly on his weapon. “What? You thought a little red tape could keep us from you? It’ll take a lot more than that, I’ll tell you right now.” He explains like it’s obvious.

Ghost is the one that hauls you to your feet, supporting your tired and injured body. “I’ll carry you out of the Sahara myself if I have to.” He thinks and then scans your body, “…do I have to?”

“No, no. I can walk.” You assure him, even if his support might be the only thing keeping you standing right now. He doesn’t let go.

“There’s not a whole lot of places you could go that we wouldn’t follow you.” Is Gaz’s explanation as he hands you a knife. He bumps your chin with his knuckle before falling into line behind Price, already on the move to get you out of there.

[ghost!reader masterlist]

"is there anythin' you miss doin'?"

the question comes out of the blue one evening whilst you're curled on your end of the sofa, present in a way that simon is still getting used to.

your eyes flick away from the book you're reading - something you've pulled off of simon's shelf, some kind of motorbike manual that you have precisely no interest in, but gives you things to talk to him about. helps you avoid some of the more personal topics like your undead status, or why you're leashed to his property like a dog; avoid the questions that he won't ask but live behind his every time he looks at you.

but now… there's nothing in those brown irises other than the need to know if there's something that you miss from being alive.

"bubble baths." you reply simply.

no pause.

no hesitation.

nothing fancy, or dramatic - just the simple luxury of a warm tub filled with bubbles.

simon's lips quirk. not quite a smile but that thing you've noticed he does when you've vaguely amused him.

"bubble baths?" he repeats, an edge of surprise in his voice. there's a pause as he frowns, tilts his head to the side. "that all? been dead 'owever the fuck long an' you miss bubble baths." he exhales through his nose, shakes his head. "yeah. that's easy enough to make 'appen for you, dove."

he shakes his head and retreats upstairs, footsteps almost silent on the old stairs in a way that's unnerving even to you.

then, the sound of the tub filling.

fifteen minutes later you're stood in the bathroom doorway, staring at the old claw foot tub. it's full, piled high with bubbles that you're surprised he even owns. simon's stood beside it, sleeves rolled up, testing the water temperature with his wrist like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"dunno 'ow temperature works for you. so i've made it 'ow i'd 'ave it. should be okay." he says gruffly, not meeting your eyes, like he's a little embarrassed to be doing something so soft for the ghost in his house.

you strip your clothes off - or more, you imagine them gone, and they disappear - the physics of your undead life still somewhat alluding you - before sinking into the warmth of the bath with a soft, involuntary sigh. wisps of steam curl from the surface as your cold form meets hot water.

you flicker. just once. a quick, quiet disappearance like you're overwhelmed by the sensation of heat and silky bubbles around you after so long without it.

simon watches you settle with quiet intensity. for a long moment he just stands there, arms crossed, before he mutters, “scoot forward.”

you glance up at him, surprise etched into your features, "you're getting in?"

his lips twist, like for a moment he thinks he might have overstepped. but then he nods. "if you want. thought you might want more company than just the fuckin' bubbles."

you shift forward without another word.

simon strips down efficiently, clothes piled in the corner of the room, stepping in behind you and lowering himself down into the water with a low groan. the contrast between the two of you is immediate; the solid heat of him versus your perpetual chill.

he pulls you back against his chest wordlessly, one arm wrapping around your waist as your head drops back against his shoulder.

"okay?" he murmurs against the side of your head.

you nod, relaxing into him, water lapping over the two of you as his hands begin to wander; slow, careful. his fingertips trace your shoulders, your arms, then lower, trailing over your stomach in a gentle caress.

you shiver. not from cold. from feeling.

“tell me if you want me to stop.” he says quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you don't tell him to stop.

his fingers slide lower, to the aching heat between your legs, parting you gently, circling your clit with unhurried, lazy strokes that make your stomach tighten and your thighs tremble.

he feels you gasp, slides his fingers lower; one thick digit pressing inside you, then another, stretching you open with a care you don't exactly expect from a man this big and gruff. the warmth of the water and the heat of his body make the sensation feel almost overwhelming as he curls his fingers slowly, stroking that perfect spot inside your soft cunt while his thumb continues lazy circles over your clit.

simon lets out a hiss of air through his teeth as his fingers slip inside you; surprised but not displeased by how different you feel. soft, warm, inviting in a way that's familiar, but there's something more to you, too. you almost feel like honey, clinging to his fingers, yielding easily as he sinks his fingers deeper.

the difference is a stark reminder - that even though you do a good impression of the living, you're not. not really.

but the way you flutter and squeeze around his digits feels horribly, devastatingly alive.

he forces his attention back to the way that you tremble in his arms, cold fingers gripping his forearm as soft, low groans spill from your lips. simon’s breathing grows heavier behind you, his cock hard and pressed against your back, but he doesn’t rush. doesn't make any move other than to give you this; to hold you close, let the waves of pleasure ripple through you.

when you come it's with a soft cry, almost broken sounding, body tightening, cunt fluttering around his fingers as the gentle noise of sloshing water echoes off the tiles.

simon presses his lips to your cold shoulder as you float back down, his fingers still buried inside you, still gently coaxing every last twitch of pleasure from you.

“missed that too?” he asks, voice rough with heat and maybe even a little affection.

you let out a shaky laugh, "yeah. more than i even realised."

the water is cooling, helped along by your freezing form, but neither of you makes any move to leave the tub yet.

Oh, and yeah, I kind of forget to post pictures

It's something with a summer and warm vibe, guys are relaxing, they have a vacation, and everything's fine

The sun is warmer than ever