They Forgot ~ Corpse Husband

they forgot ~ corpse husband

word count: 2022

request?: yes!

“Corpse husband asks his S/O why they are upset two days before their birthday and they reply, “I just got a text from my parents saying to have a happy birthday today.” ”

description: in which an early birthday text sends her mood on a downward spiral just days before her actual birthday

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing, shitty parents, some self hatred/insecurities due to shitty parents

masterlist (one, two, three)

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theadora, part four.

previous parts on tumblr | early access on patreon | WC: 5k+

warnings for this chapter: mentions of poor body image

She turns to the sink again, and starts washing another bottle as Harry puts Theadora’s coat on, the yellow raincoat looking like it belongs to another toddler as it’s too baggy on the tiny baby.

“I’m putting this one in her bag just in case,” she says, wiping the bottle with a paper towel. “There’s four of them in there, but y’know, just in case.”

“Y/N, I have that machine at home. I can wash the bottles in there if anything happens. She’s only staying for the night.“

“Still.”

She turns around, and finds Thea cuddled into Harry’s neck, and it makes her smile. She looks just like him despite her features changing every day, and it makes her heart beat a bit faster when Harry turns to their baby and presses a kiss on her forehead.

“You worry too much,” Harry says, adjusting Thea in on his hip. “I know how to take care of our daughter.”

She raises her eyebrows like she’s ready for another argument. “I know. Never said you didn’t.”

“I know you did not. I’m just saying– don’t worry. I’ll call if anything happens– which, it won’t.”

“Did you get the PDF I sent you? About what she likes to eat, what she can eat…”

“I did, Y/N. Thank you.”

She walks towards them, and touches Thea’s shoulder, the sleepy baby looking up at her. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry–” she looks up at him this time, an apologetic smile taking over her features. “–I know you can take care of her. I just worry. I’m sorry.”

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MW2 Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Non-Explicit Implied Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Imagery, Territorial MW2 👀, Possessive MW2  👀👀, MW2 having a Crush on Reader, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

Initially, he was in disbelief.

Denial, even.

But when you accidentally sent him a link to your OnlyFans instead of a link to the website of the restaurant you were visiting, Simon’s heart almost stopped.

You deleted the link immediately after, but it was too late.

The tab was already open on his browser.

Despite his agility and lightning reflexes, this situation is not one he’s going to be able to bounce back from quickly.

Will just stare at his phone for a minute or so before eventually starting to understand that yes, you did just send him evidence of your goings-on online.

And yes, you had just confirmed that you made intimate images of yourself accessible to whoever wanted them, though for a hefty fee.

You know your worth; you charge above average.

For days afterwards, the idea of you compromising yourself haunts him.

He doesn’t condemn you for your actions. Far from it !

He’s just surprised he hadn’t found out sooner. That he’d failed to read you well enough to know that this is what you did for work.

And, trying to justify to himself that it’s ‘just out of curiosity’ and ‘a need to confirm that it is actually you’ who is featured on the account, Simon buys a subscription.

He’s glad he waited a while since the appearance of a new subscription days after the incident is much less suspicious than receiving one right after.

Let’s just say, whatever morbid fancy Simon had before seeing your work transformed into a ravenous appetite after he’d seen what you had to offer.

Can’t see you the same way afterwards. But in the best way possible.

When he looks at you, he feels like he knows a secret.

Sure, he does feel creepy when you look at him, not knowing that he’s beaten himself off to videos and pictures of you approximately eight times that week.

But he tries to justify it. Again.

He’s supporting your business, he’s being a good friend (he winces when the word passes him by like a phantom), he’s…

He’s absolutely eneamoured with the way you look.

And the fact that he knows you personally – that he can (and has) heard you call his name – makes whatever little fantasy you’re acting out feel that much more real.

His favourite image of you is one where you have your arms bound above your head.

He always finds himself coming back to it.

Until one day he realises…How are you tying those ropes by yourself ?!

It’s impossible. Simon knows because he’s tried it on himself (don’t ask). So now he’s faced with the burning question of: Who is helping you with these shoots ?

And why isn’t it him ?!

König

Didn’t realise what he’d stumbled upon at first.

One minute, he was checking your socials to see how you were doing while he was away.

The next, he was at a sign-up page for something he’d never heard about.

The fact that it asked for his bank details left him somewhat suspicious, but your endorsement of the site – your claim of it being ‘The best investment of your life <3’ eased him into a false sense of security.

Oh, how König condemned his trusting nature.

Past the paywall, König didn’t know what to expect.

Whatever he could have dreamt of, he never expected it to be…this.

You in the most indecent images he’d ever seen.

Yes, König did scream when he realised what he was seeing. Yes, he did close the tab out of sheer panic.

After a minute, then two, he found the ability to breathe again.

His phone quivered in his hand, his grip a python about its glass neck.

Sighing shakily, König dared to unlock his phone.

Swallowing thickly, he approached the OnlyFans tab.

Opening it, he gasped, your likeness filling his screen and his mind once again.

“Oh, (Y/N),” he said, nobody else about to hear him save for himself. “What have you done ?”

After the aftershock fizzled out, König’s cheeks warmed.

Though, whether of anger, disappointment, or something else, he could not be sure.

He’d enjoyed thinking of the two of you as more than friends. For a while now, too.

And you hadn’t helped: not with how you took to his lap as if it were your throne, how you’d bend and hit him at just the right angle when he was behind you, reaching up for something.

Not with how you clung to him and whined his name at night when you slept over, always a doe-eyed look accompanying whatever minimal favour you were about to ask of him.

So to see you capitalise on yourself like this before he’d ever even seen your bare torso made him…

Territorial.

“I can’t let you get away with this, Engel,” he promised. Your smiling face was oblivious to his threat.

He palmed the bulge in his pants, his grip on his phone tightening.

“One way or another,” he found himself smiling. “You will be mine.”

Soap

Buys a subscription immediately.

He genuinely only did it as a joke to embarrass you. At first.

A rather expensive joke, mind you.

He almost choked on his energy drink when he saw your lowest monthly rate.

Whatever.

He bought it.

And his mind promptly went blank.

When seeing a friend in a compromising position, one typically tends to look away, either out of respect or embarrassment.

Soap didn’t.

He couldn’t.

He just stared at the image of you with your legs spread and your face the image of viscous lust.

Only after every pixel of that image was burned into his memory could Johnny look down.

And there, between his legs, sat a growing, pulsing, aching problem.

One which he had been vaguely aware of yet entirely unwilling to accept.

Every time your likeness throbbed in his mind, he felt himself twitch.

He sighed, his hand a resting place for his face as a dark dawn of realisation washed over him.

For what was unlikely the first time, Soap dealt with himself to the image of you, a euphoria he’d never known before shooting through him now he had you to look upon in such delicious detail.

At first, guilt impeded him, strangled his chest, propelling the likelihood of you walking through his door at any minute and catching him like this.

But all caution threw itself to the wind as the promise of release clouded his judgement.

“Besides,” he told himself. “You let other guys do this. So why not me ?”

After he finished, post-nut clarity settling over him, Johnny couldn’t help but feel dirty.

Getting off to the image of his best friend in such gruesome detail while they were completely unaware…

Sure, he’d done it before, but the fantasies had been vague enough for Soap to evade guilt.

Until now.

But, even so, with the weight of his actions on his shoulders, Johnny couldn’t bring himself to loathe his actions.

Not when you made yourself up so pretty for him.

Something tells him that this won’t be the last time he visits your page.

Valeria

This woman is already possessive to the max, so to see you posting content of yourself at your most intimate angles is nothing short of infuriating.

Regardless of whether you’re hers yet or not (you already belong to her, Valeria just doesn’t have the official title of ‘girlfriend’ yet), she will have something to say about your page.

Of course, she’s upset. Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But more than anything, she’s…

Hurt.

Hurt that you never told her about your little account. Hurt that you didn’t trust her enough to let her know that this is what you did for work.

You weren’t obligated to, but where Valeria is concerned, there is no excuse.

Will drive up to your house in the dead of night and interrogate you.

And when she’s got you crying and shaking and apologising for having a career, she consoles you.

“I’m not angry,” she says, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes are hard; black pearls. “Just disappointed.”

Female manipulator 100%.

She’ll tease you every now and then because of your account, nothing but playful banter (as she calls it). But you can tell there’s venom to her words.

Especially when she refuses to let you pursue it as a career anymore.

“Your body is for me to see alone, Mi Amor.”

Price

This DILF may not know how technology works, but he does know that he likes what he sees when a grotesque little picture of you floods his screen.

Don’t ask how he got here; that’s not important.

What is important is how full of you his mind is both during and after the initial discovery of your OnlyFans.

All he can think about as he’s scrolling through your portfolio is how devilishly sly you’ve been as to keep such an impressive career a secret from him of all people.

Like some kind of secret.

He’ll definitely tease you about it – drop eerily familiar turns of phrase into conversation with you, ones which you’d used on the captions of your pictures.

Calls you things which you refer to yourself as online: “Prince/Princess”, “Puppy/Kitty”, an extremely specific nickname that you’re certain you’ve never mentioned around him before.

He just loves watching you squirm under the false scrutiny in his eyes as you question yourself as to whether he’s found you out.

Little do you know that he’s your most generous benefactor, tipping you most ardently on your posts where the angle of the camera gives him a glimpse of what lays beneath the thin layers of your robe.

Comments something like ‘Fucking beautiful, Love. Keep up the good work for Daddy x’

And, when he’s ready to let you know that, yes, he has been following you for months, he’ll repeat that same sentence as his mouth is to your ear, his head just over your shoulder, as he guides your hands as he teaches you how to defend yourself.

And the feeling of your body stiffening, stepping back into him in disbelief and rubbing him just right is enough to send him over the edge, his breath shuttering, his hips pressing into yours.

Horangi

Despite the disciplinary values the military taught Horangi, nothing can restrain the sheer carnality brewing in his lower half as the video of you bent over a desk, an unknown antagonist taking you from behind filled his computer screen.

If it weren’t for your breathy, whining moans, your glassy eyes and the overwhelming fact that the person I like most is literally on full display in front of me, Horangi may have been mad enough to question who was railing you right now.

That, and why did one of his associates have a subscription to your OnlyFans ?

Better yet – since when did you have an OnlyFans ???

So many questions, and Horangi can’t focus on any of them.

His first instinct is to close the tab – to preserve your privacy, your dignity

But…something stops him.

Call it logic. Call it a sick need to fulfil his own desires, but Horangi stops just short of exiting the tab.

You’re putting this online with only a paywall to separate you from the common man. So why should he feel guilty for seeing it ?

Long story short, Horangi’s shame dies, and there is little that can resurrect it or stop what’s coming next.

For the rest of his mission, his mind drifts back to you – in that position – more often than he’d like it to.

Granted, his mind had wandered to such places long before now, but he’d never had anything so visual to fuel his fantasies save for a time or two when you bent over and your underwear peeked out from beneath your shirt whenever you slept over.

When he gets home – his long-awaited reprieve – he purchases his very own subscription to this newly-found slice of Heaven.

And he gives no indication that he knows of your activities, instead waiting for the day that you ask him for his help in filming your latest masterpiece.

Despite the disciplinary values the military taught Horangi, nothing can restrain the sheer carnality brewing in his lower half as the video of you bent over a desk, an unknown antagonist taking you from behind filled his computer screen.

If it weren’t for your breathy, whining moans, your glassy eyes and the overwhelming fact that the person I like most is literally on full display in front of me, Horangi may have been mad enough to question who was railing you right now.

That, and why did one of his associates have a subscription to your OnlyFans ?

Better yet – since when did you have an OnlyFans ???

So many questions, and Horangi can’t focus on any of them.

His first instinct is to close the tab – to preserve your privacy, your dignity

But…something stops him.

Call it logic. Call it a sick need to fulfil his own desires, but Horangi stops just short of exiting the tab.

You’re putting this online with only a paywall to separate you from the common man. So why should he feel guilty for seeing it ?

Long story short, Horangi’s shame dies, and there is little that can resurrect it or stop what’s coming next.

For the rest of his mission, his mind drifts back to you – in that position – more often than he’d like it to.

Granted, his mind had wandered to such places long before now, but he’d never had anything so visual to fuel his fantasies save for a time or two when you bent over and your underwear peeked out from beneath your shirt whenever you slept over.

When he gets home – his long-awaited reprieve – he purchases his very own subscription to this newly-found slice of Heaven.

And he gives no indication that he knows of your activities, instead waiting for the day that you ask him for his help in filming your latest masterpiece.

Alejandro

He may not look like it, but Alejandro is lowkey an internet sleuth.

I’m talking, you mention a YouTube video you watched once when you were younger that’s since been removed, based off a blurry thumbnail and Alejandro will finish your sentence like: “Oh, the one with that cat who steps on that leaf and jumps up its owner’s leg,”

So, finding your OnlyFans account isn’t exactly detective work for him when, after an outing with the boys™, he sees you get particularly jumpy when you pull out your phone.

Through the process of elimination, Alejandro concludes that you’re pursuing a more adult career.

And since he follows all your socials, he knows what your handle is likely to be.

And when he finds you in some rather compromising positions on your beloved little app, he can’t help but crack a smile.

“My, my, mi Corazon…What have you been up to ?”

He takes a leisurely stroll through your portfolio, makes a note of some noteworthy posts. Then, he makes a decision. An investment.

He purchases a subscription.

Sure, he could feel guilty about doing so – feel ashamed of his deep-rooted desire to see someone he’s seen as more than a friend exposed in ways he’s only dreamed of so far.

But he takes comfort in the fact that he’s admiring your artistry for what it is; hard work, dedication, and beauty.

Yeah, he still gets off to the stuff you post, but unlike the basement-dwellers who’ll pop a shot to a lewd picture of you and then go upstairs for their dino nuggies and their off-brand energy drink, Alejandro takes time, care, to really analyse your work – to see the colours you’ve used, the camera angles.

And to try and capture even a reflection of the guy who seems to “help” you in your productions.

Rodolfo

Screamed out loud the first time he caught sight of your page, which was open on Alejandro’s phone.

To be honest, he was too dazed by the risque picture of you in a very frail-looking swimsuit to consider the implications of Alejandro having access to your OnlyFans.

At first, he did the only thing he could think of – the gentlemanly thing to do.

Which was to look away; to grant you your privacy and pretend he’d seen nothing.

At first.

Rudy managed to make it a whole 24 hours before, after fighting a losing battle of wills with himself (one which he put little fight into the longer that image of you stewed in his mind), he found himself on your page. Again.

Shamefully, one might add.

And, much to his chagrin, he didn’t hate it.

Nor did it satiate his growing hunger for you.

And, considering how he already liked you well before making this discovery, Rudy is…conflicted, to say the least.

On one hand, you’re letting whoever has an internet connection and a bank card see you in ways that, even in his wildest imagination, Rudy never had.

Conversely, you’re letting whoever has an internet connection and a bank card see you in ways that, until now, Rudy never had.

Two sides of the same coin. Identical outcomes. It just all rested on how Rudy wanted to view the situation; as a hurdle, or an advantage.

A loyal follower of two months now, his evenings spent worshipping the visage of you in what one could barely consider clothing, Rodolfo chose the latter.

And you have no idea. And Rudy is going to keep it that way until he feels you’re ready to learn that your top contributor is the man who’s sat beside you right this second as you stay at his house for a sleepover; one upon which you rest your head and listen to the deceptively steady beating of his heart.

Graves

Not that he would admit it, but he felt somewhat offended the first time he found out about your OnlyFans account.

Bruised his ego considerably ☹️

He took your self-sufficiency personally.

Did you not believe he could provide for you ? Is that why you turned to…adult practices ?

He sulked about it for a little while – about a day or two – before the fact that the person he’d been – dare he say it – crushing on for the last few months had an ONLYFANS ACCOUNT.

Needless to say, he hopped right back on his computer and got to buying your most elite subscription available.

Yeah, perhaps the idea that a couple thousand or so other weirdos were ooglign your body aside from himself bothered him. But he wasn’t exactly whiter than white himself, so he dropped the subject (with himself).

However, his jealous tendencies do lead him to some rather unorthodox places.

Has genuinely, seriously considered acquiring OnlyFans to try and get you scrubbed off the platform.

His accountant managed to (eventually) convince him otherwise after drilling it through his skull “How questionable this would look on your company record, Sir.”

And then, obviously, Graves decided to just try and buy the internet.

Bless him, he may be a CEO, but he isn’t a boyboss. Or tech-savvy.

Regardless, he eventually cools off and actually sees this situation as playing to his advantage.

He could already feel the cogs in his turning as he realised that you didn’t know he’d seen your account, nevermind contributed to it.

And thus began Philly’s plan to make you so financially dependent on him through anonymous donations and financial contributions. A hostile takeover, as it’s known in the trade.

Gaz

Since he is both the youngest and the most tech-savvy of the 141, he knows what he’s doing.

He’d heard a whisper while traversing your socials that you owned a fabled OnlyFans account.

And, like the good friend he was, instead of embarrassing you and asking you directly, he went on the hunt for it himself.

Okay, maybe he didn’t do this without your knowledge out of pure chivalry – rather a need to see if there was a possibility that, yes, you posted yourself online for money.

And, perhaps, a need to see if he can get his hands on some of those images himself…

Eventually, ever the internet sleuth he is, Gaz found your account.

And boy, did he underestimate what he thought he’d find.

“Jesus, (Y/N)...What have you been doing ?”

But that isn’t to say he didn’t like it.

On the contrary; he couldn’t help but feel drawn to it.

Especially when, in one of the pictures, he saw you drenched in a shirt of his he’d lent to you months ago. One which he still hadn’t gotten back.

He doesn’t pester you about it anymore. Even jokingly.

Though, he is somewhat envious that his shirt gets to be that close to you, especially in those conditions.

That, and…

Wait, who’s taking these pictures ?!

Not that you’d know this, but, his chest alight with the need to identify this mystery victor, those dark rings under Gaz’s eyes when you meet for lunch the next day are for you.

“Gaz, Sweetie, did you get into a fight or something ?”

And Gaz can’t bear to tell you how much an effect the jealousy you’d inadvertently inflicted on him has had on his psyche – had on his sleep schedule as he burnt through the night trawling every image and video of you for any identifying feature of your work partner.

As evidenced by the crusted tissues piling up in the bin beside his desk, to dry his tears and…other fluids.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

happy valentine's day, jo ❤️ for the #mmvalentinesevent can i request "carding your fingers through your lover’s hair after a bad nightmare" with ghost and helen please? love you, babes!!

sometimes, i dream

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader [helen!reader]

Some nights, he falls asleep dreaming of nothing.

In others, the black space behind his eyes comes alive with all the failings—the blood, the loss, the sights. Sometimes they’re accurate depictions, a flashback, a reminder; sometimes they’re heightened, a lie created by the fears he carries.

He never knows when they’ll come, when they’ll crash into him, and when they do…

Nightmares pull Ghost under. The mask he applies so perfectly is yanked from his face, leaving him exposed—leaving him with Simon.

Simon has scars that are different to the ones Ghost has. Ones that aren’t on skin level, but far beneath the surface.

They choke him. They force strangled noises passed his lips as the darkness wraps around his throat. It unfurls inside of him. Needing to wake, needing to escape—

“Simon…”

It drips into his ear, calls to him: her voice.

An outline of her stepping like the brightest light into the peripheral of his dream. It’s something, but not quite enough. Needing more, internally pleading with her.

Save me. Help me.

“Shh, Simon. I’m here.”

She’s more corporeal. Pushing through the shadows of his guilt, trying to reach him, desperately fighting against memories and failures and—

“Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Her nails brush through his hair as he dances between dreams and being awake. He knows them so well. A feeling he treasures and craves.

Her fingers, those healing hands, push past his slightly-too-long hair. Likely feeling the damper parts from his nightmare. Her nails occasionally scrape against his scalp, cementing him here and not wherever his mind keeps trying to take him.

Ghost flicks his eyes open. His sight meeting darkness, but not the same type his mind had conjured. This darkness has familiar shapes and calming shadows. It has outlines that make him relax.

It’s why all he does is stare.

Finding her eyes, even in the dark of the night. Needing them, having them guide him back to normal breathing.

He should admit it—tell her—that the mere whisper of his name had yanked him free of his nightmares hands. That when she repeated it again, it unlodged the grip around his lungs; untangled the knot in his stomach, and allowed his heart to thump again.

But when she called him baby... when her beautiful lips let those four letters slip out into the air—it had pulled him back to her.

Pulled him from sandy deserts, where there were screams of people he could have saved and his palms soaked with blood that wasn't his.

It’s why he stares at her like she is the sun. Because she is his sun. She lights him, both his world and his skin. She spreads warmth, even amongst the places he never thought he’d feel it again. Her smile, similar to the sunniest of days—makes everything okay, even when it couldn’t be further from it.

She has cloudy days, thunderstorms and rain, too. He knows she does. Has pulled her from them and brought her close to him.

He guesses she's returning the favour. Pull him close to her, feeling his panicked breath on her chest until he soothes and coats her skin in quick thank yous.

He will, thank her. For now, he slides his hand over her forearm, squeezing—letting her know he’s back, he’s here. A silent gratitude, one she must hear loud and clear because she drops the softest, sweetest kiss to his brow.

“Would you still love me if I was a rock, Simon?”

And he feels it before he acknowledges it: a smile.

The way it spreads like wildfire across his face. The way his mind wants to articulate some sarcastic comment, letting go of the last tendrils of his nightmare with ease.

She’s good. He thinks quickly—almost tempted to slide his palm up and feel her smirk. Using distraction.

“I’d carry you in my pocket. Maybe throw you at Johnny when he’s pissin' me off.”

She laughs the most beautiful sound, one which lulls him without trying. “You wouldn’t need to aim, either. I’ll always find the spot to hurt him. Just for you.”

He grips her arm a little tighter, thumb brushing in swipes. “S’why you’re too good for me,” he whispers, the words barely kissing the air.

“One day you’ll believe we deserve one another.”

He snorts, imagining the smile she's wearing at his grunt.

He just feels the most comfortable silence fall over them. Enough to make him close his eyes as her head meets his shoulder. Warmth spreads over him as her skin touches his.

He’s almost not afraid to try and sleep again.

Not with her by his side, his lips brushing her forehead, his hand remaining on her forearm—rooting himself with her.

an: i know this was supposed to be sweet and romantic, @halfmoth-halfman so i hope this is okay that i took it a little… angstier. loves ♥️

⇝ resolution .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART FIVE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: A letter in the mail changes everything.

WARNINGS: Mentions of canon typical violence, gore, blood, death; angst, fighting, slight NSFW, a really big rollercoaster of emotions, I'm sorry.

A/N: AFTER ALMOST THREE WEEKS!! I AM SO SORRY IT'S HERE IT'S HERE SOUND THE BELLS!!! Please don't froget to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, it helps so fucking much!!

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

MASTERLIST.

If you want to be tagged in future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account - @lilynottaken !

Also on Ao3!

“You know you can just go to bed, right?”

“Mmm...” You yawned, leaning your head on the cool porcelain of the bathtub’s edge as you watched Tommy try to grab at one of the toys you’d placed in the water for him, leaning over to push it towards him. “...’m fine.”

“You haven’t slept properly for a few days.” Simon tried again, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to not just grab you and shove you into bed and finish Tommy’s bath on his own. 

“Noted…” You said, voice groggy and throat sore but still with enough energy to snap at him. “Just go…”

Go where? He wanted to snap back, but kept himself quiet, looking away from your body slumped on the floor to your bed, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

It’d been a few days since he’d come back from the mission that had ended with him and the task force in your home, and despite the warm farewell you’d both shared, when he came back, you’d seemed to have grown colder towards him for no apparent reason, and God, did he hate how much it reminded him of the first few months of whatever this was, insisting to do everything by yourself and leaving no room for discussion, taking up almost all of Tommy’s time with yourself. 

Which was fine, you were his mother, after all, but it just felt a bit like… You were pushing him away, keeping him from your son all over again.

He didn’t like it. 

“I got some curry, go eat and let me finish him up.” He took a few steps towards you, leaning down and placing a hand on your back, immediately being taken aback as you jumped away from his touch, arm placed protectively over yourself as if he’d just tried to attack you.

“No!” You all but screamed, staring up at him in shock before seemingly realising what you’d just done. “No. I- I said it’s fine, Simon. Go eat, I’ll finish.”

He furrowed his eyebrows beneath the mask, clenching his fists at his sides as he watched you turn around again to call out softly at Tommy, who turned his head to you with a bright smile, unaware of the tension filling up the room between his parents. 

“Fine.” He said gruffly, not missing the way your shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice. 

He really didn’t fucking understand what had happened between you two, what could’ve occurred in the span of the few days he’d been gone to change the way you acted towards him completely…

It was worrying, the whole scenario that was playing out making him sick to his stomach as he took out the food he’d bought, making you a plate before his and pouring you a drink, simply staring at his own food while listening to you whisper to Tommy through the walls, suddenly having lost all his appetite. 

You hadn’t even gotten to talk like he’d promised when he came back, you’d dismissed any and every attempt to start a conversation, keeping it to short words and sentences, seemingly not wanting anything to do with him apart from the things you were basically obligated to talk to him about. 

And god, did he fucking hate it. 

“Let me feed him.” He spoke as you walked out of your bedroom with Tommy in your arms, his hair damp and curly from the water, chubby hands clinging onto one of his toys. 

“I can-”

“I’m going to feed him.” Simon snapped, walking over to you and reaching for his son, his towering figure and the fire in his eyes immediately shutting you up as you didn’t put on more of a fight, letting him take the small boy. “And you’re going to eat and then go to bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Tommy was placed in his chair, a plate of rice in front of him. “You need rest.”

“Maybe I don’t want to rest.” You retorted, voice almost gone, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head away from him, yet still keeping a watchful eye on him and Tommy, once again insinuating further that you didn’t trust him anymore anywhere near your son. 

Keep it calm. Not around Tommy.

You saw it by the way he clenched his hand around the fork in his hand, he was trying his best to not snap with your son present, not wanting to subject the small boy to that kind of spectacle. 

And yes, you didn’t either, but you couldn’t just act like everything was normal around him, you knew how you were acting now was just a trauma response to what had happened in the time he’d been gone, that it would all hopefully be better if you told him about it, but the mere thought of the files you’d received in the mail that were currently sitting in one of the cupboards’ drawers made you feel nauseated. 

You just… couldn’t see him the same. 

Yeah, you were once a kid with unlimited access to the internet, yes you accidentally saw some gore shit online, you’d heard some disgusting things thanks to your grandfather that had served in the military, you’d seen all the mess and blood after you’d given birth, you weren’t fully desensitised to gore or blood, but you’d seen it across the years. 

But those pictures, fuck. It wasn’t any surprise that you’d immediately thrown up after opening them, having expected maybe some letters about rent or something, not- whatever that was. 

What you’d been able to discern after flipping through them a few times was that they were not the original military’s file but copies, which by the way the ink was smudged on a few of them and the lettering was off, seemed to have been made under a lot of pressure and on a time limit. 

You didn’t understand at first, why they had been sent to you, too in shock and terrified of the images amongst them to even connect it to Simon until you saw his callsign. And as you started to read through them more carefully, you realised that it was everywhere. 

And fuck, you’d never been more terrified in your life. 

Of course, you were aware of what a man in his position did, but you’d never explicitly asked him about it, never wanted to actually be exposed to whatever things he and the task force did to protect your country. 

But seeing it written down, all the specifics along with the pictures, it was traumatising. 

You hadn’t even realised how much time you’d spent staring at them until Tommy alerted you with a cry, snapping you out of it and forcing you to put the files down (although putting them down anywhere in your house made you feel sick), body shaking and bile rising into your throat once again. 

Obviously, there was no name on the envelope and of course, no return address, so the person who sent the files to you remained a mystery, but it didn’t take a genius to deduce that it was someone who’d been close to everything that had been depicted in them, someone who’d figured out who you were and what relationship you had to the SAS Lieutenant, and either wanted to send some type of message that you were to shook up to decipher or to simply toy with your emotions, all you knew was that somehow, they’d figured out Ghost’s oh-so secretive double life out. 

How, you had no idea. But you did know what that meant. 

You and Tommy were in danger. 

And you didn't know how you were supposed to react. 

Seriously, how?

Everything was too much at once, the files, the pictures, the fear, Tommy, Ghost, you- 

And then he came back. 

Acting like he’d never done anything of what you’d seen, holding your face in those warm hands and being so sweet towards you and your son, conflicting you even more. 

You didn't feel safe anymore, not just around Simon, but in general. And seeing him lean down to pick up Tommy with those hands, those hands that had caused what you’d seen, you just jumped into action, scooping Tommy up before he could reach him and insisting he would need to have a shower before touching him. 

You just couldn’t fathom how a man like that could treat you both with such kindness, how his hands could go from doing that to someone and then holding you softly at night, it was confusing and sickening and all you wanted to do was get rid of everything, go back to before where you had no idea of what happened while he was gone and you could indulge yourself in his touch without that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

How were you supposed to bring up a topic like that to him? How were you supposed to look him in the eyes after that information, hand him the files and receive confirmation that they were in fact real and true? And what would you do? Force him to explain himself like a wife confronting her husband over an affair? This wasn’t anything like that, this was his job, something he’d been doing for ages and needed no explanation, especially to you. What, would you force him to apologise to all the people he’d hurt? 

Of course not. 

But still, you couldn’t just act normal. 

Even if you felt slightly bad. 

Even if he looked at you like that, the way he’d done at the beginning of your relationship.

You… Couldn’t…

You didn’t even process the tears running down your cheeks until he shot up from his spot and his warm hands came into contact with your cheeks, pulling your head up to look at you properly, making you stumble as the exhaustion and overwhelm finally caught up to you. 

He called your name with such confusion and care, despite how mean you’d treated him these past few days, your hands coming up to grab at his arms for stability as he asked you what was wrong, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. 

“Hey, listen t’me, come-”

“I can’t- I’m sorry, I can’t-” You sobbed out, your breathing erratic as you tried your best to stop yourself from crying, but once the dam had been broken, there was no way of fixing it. “Simon-”

“Come ‘ere.” He let go of your face, arms falling to your body and wrapping around you, pulling you into a hug and letting you grab at his shirt, despite that repulsive feeling stirring deep within your chest once again at his touch. “Fuck, lovie…”

“Don’t…” You murmured into his shirt as soon as the pet name had slipped out of his lips, squeezing your eyes closed. 

“What?”

“Don't” You repeated, pushing yourself away from him and taking a few unsure steps back. “I- I can’t I-” You shook your hands as if there were muck on them, confused and anxious as you tried to breathe, spiralling further and further into a panic attack. 

You weren’t really there for what happened next, Simon could tell as he held you almost limp in his arms, trying his best to calm you down from whatever was happening. Panic attacks for the both of you weren’t unnormal, he knew that, you’d both been subject to anxiety for a long time, so this wasn’t completely new, but you fainting from the exhaustion and him having to bring you to bed was. 

And because you were asleep, he had no way of figuring out what had happened, what the cause of this whole mess was and how he could help you through it. 

He’d placed Tommy in the crib you'd brought into your room a few days ago, letting you both take a well-deserved nap while he cleaned up the abandoned food outside. And well, after that, he picked a beer out of the fridge, convinced that he was deserving of one too after everything. But of course, the bottle opener was nowhere to be found, so he was forced to look through all the different drawers in the kitchen and living room until he found it. 

But… He didn’t. Instead, he was greeted with a file envelope messily shoved into one of the cupboards beneath a few pictures of Tommy you’d put up, blank and very much looking like some of the files that they kept back at base. 

He pulled it out, looking down at the drawer that was filled with little trinkets, stones and incense, definitely not the drawer where you’d stick something like this. 

Maybe he should have put it back, but he finally decided against it, pulling the contents out and spilling them across the wooden top of the small cupboard, fear immediately being stricken within him as he laid eyes upon the papers. 

What the actual fuck. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, some of these he’d written him fucking self, all the reports for recent missions where he’d been the one to finish off most of the enemy’s team. 

He recognised each and every picture that came along with the textual description, remembered the face and the voice of the person who had been unfortunate enough to meet him during a mission. 

He knew them, he’d had them in his hands at one point, that didn’t fucking explain why you had them. 

A thousand scenarios rushed through his brain as he stared down at them, hands gripping at the edges of the wooden piece of furniture in order to keep himself from breaking his hands from the force he was clenching his fists with, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as his mind went down the deepest rabbit holes to explain why you had this. 

Had you been using him to get inf-

No.

Was this all a game to y-

No!

No, you weren’t… You weren’t a fucking enemy. You weren’t his enemy. You weren’t that type of person. You wouldn’t just fucking babytrap him to get information. 

No one was sick enough for that. 

…right?

“Fuck!” He roared, slamming his hands down onto the wood and staring deep into the picture of the soulless eyes of one of his victims, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. 

No. He wasn’t going to think of you like that. You loved Tommy too much for it all to be an act. He loved y-

Simon raised his hands up to his face to press them into his eyes until he saw flashing lights, trying to calm himself down. 

He turned around as soon as he heard the squeak of the floorboards, furious eyes landing on your dishevelled figure as you clung to the doorframe, staring at him like a deer caught in headlight as you saw what he’d been looking at. 

“Sim-”

“Why do you have this?” A shiver ran throughout your body at the sound of his voice, calm and calculated, like he hadn’t just woken you up with a shout loud enough to shake the building. 

“Si-”

“Answer.” Ghost replied, eyes focused solely on you as you looked down at your feet, a pressure building in your chest as you tried to speak. 

“They were sent to me.” You finally choked out, flinching back as Simon made a move to pick them up, unknowing of the connotations that answer could have.

Silence. 

“Do you really think I’d go out of my way to find those? Do you think I wanted to see you like that- like Ghost?” You started, voice wavering. “Fuck, Simon, those- I couldn’t even look at them a second time, I feel sick just fucking thinking of them!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me!?” He shouted, turning around in a flash and taking a few jarring steps towards you, files all bunched up in his shaking hands. “Why didn’t you think to mention that you were being sent shit like this!?”

“Because I was fucking scared, Simon! I was fucking terrified that this meant that they know who I was, who Tommy is, who he’s related to! That they know about us and therefore can use us as leverage against you! Unlike you, I’m not that fucking desensitised to pain, to whatever you do, to the fear of getting hurt so that they can get to you! I’m not part of the fucking military, I’m just a fucking civillian who is clearly very much in danger thanks to a fucking mistake she made with you!” You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks and blurring your vision as you shoved a finger into his chest. “So I’m sorry, okay!’ I’m fucking sorry that I was too afraid to bring this up! To bring up the fact I can’t see you the same, that I’m scared Tommy’s going to be hurt and I won’t be able to do anything about it, I’m fucking sorry!”

You let out another sob as you finished, your voice sore and throat dry from letting all of that out. 

“‘M not like you, Simon.”

Fuck.

Everything came crashing down onto him, guilt the only thing weighing Simon down.

“I’m… scared.”

“Of me?” He finally breathed out, raising his free hand to cup your cheek, relief flooding his body as you didn’t move away but immediately being crushed as he saw the fearful look on your face. 

“...I don’t know…”

A beat.

“...Should I be?”

Maybe.

“...I’d never hurt you. I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. You and Tommy are my family, and I’m going to protect you both no matter what. I won't let anyone ever lay a hand on you. You need to know that. The man I’m out there isn’t the same as the one I’m here. But neither of us would hesitate to rip apart whatever bastard is making you feel like this.”

He let the files fall, cupping your face with both hands, shaking you slightly so you got the message to look up at him. 

“I know I can’t undo this, what you’ve seen, what I’ve done, but I want to be here for you. You know I’ll always be here for you.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know.” You said, voice breaking. You couldn’t fully express what you were feeling right then, you… you didn’t hate him, it would be impossible to truly hate Simon, after everything he’d done for you; you just needed time and space. His view of you might’ve not changed in the whole time he’d been with you but yours definitely had, and that was normal, considering everything he did. You just couldn’t act like everything was normal after what you’d seen.

“...go back to bed. We’ll talk this out once you’re rested.” He let you go, watching you walk back into your room with a guilty look on your face before turning to his now still beer, the appetite he’d had for one having vanished. 

“...Simon?” You whispered before closing the door, hand clinging onto the wood. 

“Yeah?” He replied, a bit gruffly. 

“...Tommy’s going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He repeated, giving you a reassuring look, one he hoped you caught despite the mask. “‘Course he is.”

He watched you hesitate at the door for a split second, almost like you were deciding whether or not to say anything to further the conversation, but seemingly decided against it, closing the door after a quick nod and leaving him in silence. 

Silence. 

Something he used to enjoy before, when he was alone at home or at base with only himself for company, letting him unwind and think about whatever he wanted to. Now, it was overwhelming. 

It felt like every single thought rushing through his brain was out to catch him or hurt him, showing him the most horrific scenarios and ideas of what could happen thanks to whatever fucker had decided to play some sick joke on you. 

Was it even a joke? It could be hundreds of things, a joke, a message, a threat… 

Or just a form of psychological warfare, a way of messing with you and no doubt hoping to distance you from him, to leave him weak and defenceless like the enemy anticipated. That was the more credible reason, even if the mere thought of someone sending you shit like this in hopes of breaking you drove him insane to the point of wanting to catch and dispose of that abstard with his own two hands, ironic considering that those acts of anger and violence had been the whole reason for your dispute. 

It pissed him off to no end. 

But, even though a lot of people would’ve acted on the current emotions rushing through him if they were in his place, Simon knew that focusing solely on finding the bastard wasn’t the most important subject at hand. As much as he wanted this threat on your happiness and safety disposed of, he couldn’t just fuck off and leave you here to deal with the damage and Tommy all on your own. 

He’d repeated it to himself countless times before going on a mission, he was a protector, he was your protector, even if in the future you decided you hated his guts or something happened between you two, you’d always be safe and secure with him, no matter what. 

And so, he swallowed that horrible need for retaliation and picked up his phone, dialling in his captain’s number.

“What’d you do with them?”

“Burnt them.” Simon grunted, wiping away the mess Tommy had made around his mouth. “Best way of disposing shit like that.”

You hummed, clearly out of it, staring at the news playing out on the tv. 

“I told Laswell about it. ‘Said she’d do her best to find out who was the one who made the copies.” 

“Right…” You drummed your fingers against your mug with feigned disinterest, truly not knowing what to say back. 

“And, until whoever it is is caught, I’m not going anywhere.”

That caught your attention. You turned to him with an inquisitive look, confused. “What?”

“Asked her to stop givin’ me missions until they’re sure you’re not in danger.” He clarified, picking Tommy up from his high chair and straddling him to his side. “So I’m here in case anything happens.”

Tommy was carefully handed to you, Simon’s body plopping down onto the sofa next to you a few seats away, his feet coming up to rest on the coffee table as he picked up his own tea. 

“‘That okay? Figured you’d feel better if it was me and not some random guy sent by the SAS. Though Gaz was pretty up for it when asked…” He mumbled the last part, showing you did indeed have an option if you truly didn’t feel safe with him around anymore (his heart stung a bit at the thought of it, but it was what it was), but you soon shut it down with a simple shrug, pulling Tommy closer to you so he could rest his head on your chest, rubbing his back with your free hand. 

“It’s… okay. I’m just going to need some time.”

You were a bit ashamed of how you’d reacted last night when he’d confronted you about the files, but you still stood by everything you said, even if you’d said it a bit too harshly, it didn’t matter. You weren’t like him, after all, you were still afraid of things happening to you and of course, your son, and just needed some time to process what you hadn’t in all the months of knowing Simon: that whether you liked it or not, you would always be tied back to him, even if the mere thought of being hurt just because of who you’d randomly decided to go back home with one night.

“You said something last night.” He began, outstretching a hand towards you both so Tommy could grab at one of his fingers. 

“I said a lot of things last night.” You tried to humour, but stayed quiet as the expression in his eyes didn’t change. 

“You said that you were in danger because of a mistake you made.”

You flinched at the words, biting down on your lower lip as you recalled back to the outburst you’d subjected Simon to last night, that particular part having slipped out in the heat of the moment.

“...did you really mean that?”

“Fuck! Of course not!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to disturb Tommy any more than you both already had in the last few days, shaking your head to further your point. “No- Fuck, tat- that was so disgusting of me to say. It might’ve been a mistake back then when it first happened-” You saw his shoulders slump slightly, so you moved to grab at the arm he’d put out, catching his attention. “-but I’d never change it. Not for anything in the world. If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have Tommy, and he- God, Simon, he’s my son, of course he isn’t a mistake, he’s my everything…”

He let out a relieved sigh, nodding along with your words as you both looked down at Tommy, curious big eyes switching between you two as if able to understand the conversation that had just transcurred, giving you a toothless smile. 

Well, not really toothless, since he had been crying for almost a month now due to the pain of his teeth coming in, so there were a few flashes of white across the smile. 

“Yeah, you’re my everything too.”

“Huh?”

You’d expected him to immediately backtrack on his answer and say he was talking to Tommy, but he simply shrugged again, eyes darting from you to Tommy with a fond look reflecting in them as he did everything but take back what he said. “Both of you. Might be corny, but it’s true. I told you.”

His everything.

Simon’s everything. 

That shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

Yeah, it would take some time for you to adjust like you’d told him, but he was okay with that. He’d wait for you.

"Come on, please, wake up."

Simon's hands were shaking, gripping at your lifeless body as if you were the only thing that mattered in the midst of this living nightmare, his mask growing wet as tears formed in the corner of his eyes, his breathing growing erratic as your body slumped in his grasp. 

He called your name desperately, your body shaking in his hold from the way his own hands were trembling and in a feeble attempt at getting you to wake up, to open your eyes, to say his name in that fucking beautiful voice of yours, anything. 

His gloved hands came up to cradle your paling face, running it over your features to rub off the dust and ashes that had stuck to the now drying blood, dropping your body in horror as instead of the grime he wanted to wipe off, he was left with nothing, his hand growing warm as the blood from your now horrifying carcass started to flow. 

He was drowning, he was choking, he couldn't fucking breathe, he couldn't think, you were dead, you were gone, his fucking life didn't have meaning anym- 

Simon jolted up as the pressure that had been building in his chest finally exploded, the dam that had been working so hard to keep his fears at bay breaking, letting the tears that Simon always tried his best to contain out. 

Fuck, it felt like he'd really lived it, like he had held your dying body in his hands as you slowly slipped away from him, like his the recurring fears of him causing your end had come true. 

He felt pathetic, like the broken man he really was, lying on the fucking sofa like always trembling like a little kid, the tears a constant stream down his cheeks, all the emotions and stress from the past few months finally catching up to him.

His breathing was raspy and uneven, reflecting the anxiety rushing through his veins at that very same moment. 

He felt awful, he was awful, an awful, destroyed, broken man who had been tipped over the edge by a stupid fucking dream. 

Someone undeserving of everything you’d given to him. 

He was sure his heart was going to break through his chest with how quickly it was beating against his ribcage, one of his hands coming up to clench at the material of his creased shirt. 

He felt like he was about to pass out. 

His eyesight was blurry, his limbs shaky and his mouth dry, clear indications of the oh-so familiar panic attacks he’d been prone to every since he was a young boy, hat he’d grown enough to know how to control, but he knew that right now, he did not have enough willpower to keep himself from spiralling down into his own thoughts. 

He blindly got up, staggering around the living room as the blanket that had been draped over him pooling onto the floor. He pushed open your door, breaths staggering as his teary eyes made contact with your sleeping body, darting towards the crib right next to your bed where Tommy slept peacefully, making sure to stay quiet as he entered the bathroom. 

He didn’t want to wake you up, to annoy you even more than you already were with him after everything that had happened, despite almost a month having gone by after it all, you deserved rest, you deserved fucking better than h-

His hands gripped the porcelain sink as he stumbled into the room, staring at his uncovered reflection in the mirror, his cheeks red and blotchy from having cried mere moments ago, a few stray tears continuing their pathway down his face. 

He felt ridiculous. 

He was supposed to be some hard willed strong Lieutenant, not the pathetic man who cried at a mere nightmare he really was. 

"...Simon?"

The sound of shuffling sheets reached his ears, your muffled voice coming from beneath the covers as you stirred, his panicked footsteps and the light shining through the crack of the bathroom door enough to wake you from your slumber. 

"'S that you?"

Who else would it be? He wanted to joke, but stayed quiet, hoping you would just go back to sleep. 

But clearly, you weren't satisfied with no answer.

He watched the door open behind him from the mirror, freezing like a deer in headlights as you walked in sporting one of his dirty shirts he'd told you once you could wear, hiding the fact he wanted to see you in his clothes behind the pretence that it would be easier to do laundry, sweatpants (his, as well) tied at your waist so they wouldn't slip down your legs. 

"Simon." You mumbled, eyes barely open and vision blurry as you held onto the door frame for stability, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you yawned. "What's wrong?"

You knew something was off as soon as you'd heard him creep into the bathroom, already knowing from experience that Simon never got up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet, fearing that he'd wake you up like he’d done just now- 

“Nuffin’, lovie. Go back to bed.”

You frowned, squinting at him through swollen eyes, the bright lights from the bathroom and the sleep in them not helping your vision in the slightest, moving your head to rest against the cool wood of the doorframe. “It’s not, though, is it?”

A beat. 

“Simon…” You said, mid-yawn, outstretching a hand to blindly grab at his sleep shirt, tugging at the material. “Tell me.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, willing himself to not break down like he knew he wanted to, his grip on the sink slowly growing stronger as you stumbled towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing the side of your face to his warm back, giving him a comforting squeeze. 

"I said it's fine." He whispered, hand coming up to yours and attempting to peel it from his body, giving up once it immediately snapped back. 

Part of him wanted you to stay like that, but the other, more reasonable part knew that it would be best if he didn't burden you with his nightmares and if you just went to bed.

"You wouldn't be crying if it was." You murmured, unlinking your hands and running them over his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath his shirt. 

"'Not crying, lovie."

"You have to stop lying to me, Simon. It isn't healthy." You mumbled angrily, pulling yourself away and looking up at him, feeling the blood leave your face as you realised you were staring at the back of his actual head instead of the black material of his balaclava like you'd gotten used to. 

Simon had never explicitly told you that he was uncomfortable with you seeing his face, but you could only assume after all the time he spent with his face obstructed, even with Tommy. 

So you looked down at your feet, making sure to not peek at the mirror like you knew you really wanted to, not wanting to upset him by breaking his trust. 

"...I know." He sighed, turning on the tap and splashing his face with some of the water, finding it a bit humorous that he did it with you still clinging onto him, placing a damp hand over one of yours and giving it a squeeze. 

"Come on…" you sighed, letting go of him reluctantly and turning your body towards the door, flipping the light switch off before blindly outstretching an arm out to him, letting out an amused huff as you immediately met his own hand, pulling him out of the small bathroom and back into the comfort of your room. "Stay?"

"...'course." He breathed out, following you mindlessly as you returned back into your spot in the bed, almost like routine now after all the times you'd brought him to bed with the same comforting hold on his hands, kneeling on the mattress and all but collapsing onto the soft covers, running his hands over them until they met your warm body, running his fingertips over the patch of skin that had been revealed by the rise of your shirt, letting out a shaky breath as your own hands came up to run over his arms.

He fluttered his eyes shut, closing the distance between you to and letting his body fold into your touch, snuggling his face into the valley of your breasts (he thanked whatever god was up there that his shirt was big enough to expose your cleavage, a very welcoming sight), and grasping at your thighs for stability. 

Your arms came to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer into you until he'd grabbed at your legs to wrap around his waist, fingers running through his coarse hair, stopping at the top of his head every few seconds to scratch at his scalp, and if Simon was a cat, he knew damn well he'd be purring right then. 

"It's okay to cry, you know that, right?" You whispered, voice muffled by his hair as you let out a breath, his short hair tickling your cheek from how you'd pressed your face against it. "Better out than in."

"You sound like my mom." He grumbled, pulling a snort out of you as you ran your nails down his nape. "'Always said shit like that."

You stayed quiet, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest that wanted you to continue on with the conversation, curious for learning more about his mysterious family. 

"'Said'?" You whispered, almost nervous, scared you'd overstepped. 

He stayed silent, only furthering your fear that you'd insulted him until he let out an elongated sigh, hands pulling you impossibly closer as his warm breath hit your skin, face flushing at the reminder that if was his actual face pressing against your cleavage, not the rough material of the painted balaclava. 

"Don' see her as much. Not in the best condition to have a chat. Tommy takes care of her mostly."

"Tommy?" You said in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes darted over to your son's crib, the glow-in-the-dark stars you'd stuck to the sides of it illuminating it enough to reflect your sleeping son's cute little face.

He froze in your arms as if he'd said something wrong. "My… my brother."

"Your brother's called Tommy?!" You almost shouted, peeling yourself off of him to look down at him (ignoring the slight whine that formed in his throat at the feeling of your body being torn away from his), despite not even being able to see him. 

"Yeah…" he grumbled, trying to pull you back into his arms, frowning as you slapped at his shoulders to catch his attention. 

"That's - Why you reacted like that, right?" You mumbled, thinking back to the night he'd met Tommy for the first time, the way his eyes had gone blank like you'd just reminded him of some painful memory. 

"...his name's Tommy."

You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse. 

"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"

You hadn't thought much about it at the time, since by then, you had more important things to worry about, but now that he'd revealed his brother's name, his shock made sense. 

"Yeah…Was kind of… Tragically funny, lovie." He sighed, running your hands over your waist as you finally pulled him back into your hold. 

"Yeah… I didn't know."

"How could've you? I left before I could even give you my last name." He huffed, rubbing the side of his cheek on your chest. 

Silence filled the room once again, only being broken by the shuffling sounds of the sheets over you or Tommy's occasional whines, continuing your brushing of his hair with your fingers. 

You didn't want to pry further into the topic that had been at hand before you'd interrupted, squeezing your eyes closed as you inhaled his shampoo, shivering beneath his touch as he ran his fingers around your belly button. 

"She's in a home. Near where I grew up. Nice one. I only talk to her on the holidays." He started, running them up to the space below your breasts. "It's better that way. Tommy's the nicer one of us."

"Didn't he used to terrorise you?" You teased, trying to lighten the mood, letting out a cry as he licked a stripe up your clavicle, no doubt grinning into the darkness as you slapped his head. 

"Going to stop telling you things from now on if you insist on using them against me in the future, lovie." He murmured, pressing a kiss to where he'd just licked as an apology, ignoring the way your skin grew warmer beneath his touch. "But… he's cleaned his act up. Not as much as a cunt. Probably afraid I could rip him in two, now."

You snorted, hesitantly pushing his bangs back to press a kiss to his forehead, almost giggling at the pleased hum that left his lips. "Si… you, uh… want to talk about why you were crying?"

Simon noticeably tensed beneath your touch as you brought up the whole reason as to why he was in your bed, another breath hitting your skin. 

He thought about lying to you once again, but finally decided against it, throwing a glance at his son over his shoulder as if the boy would understand the next words that would come out of his mouth. 

"Just… a stupid nightmare. You… I jus’ wanted to make sure you were safe. I didn't mean to wake you, really." He let out all in a string pulled together by one breath, hands coming down to grab at your thighs and rub at them through the material of your bottoms, letting out a shaky sigh as you moved them to wrap around his body. "Fuckin' stupid, isn't it?"

"It's not stupid if it affected you this much, Si…" You tried, not wanting to pry further into the contents of the nightmare, but still not wanting to drop the subject all together. “Even the strongest people need a shoulder to cry on.”

You cupped his face, bringing it off your chest, looking down at what you could only assume to be his face. 

“Let me be yours.”

You didn’t move as he shuffled closer to you, running your thumbs over his cheekbones as he leaned closer into you, feeling his warm breath hit your face. 

“Mine?” He mumbled, your hair standing on edge as you felt his lips brush against yours ever so slightly. 

“Mhm… Yours.” You breathed out, nodding as if he could see you. 

Heat rushed to your face as soon as his lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan you let out as his hands moved beneath your shirt, tightening at your waist. 

And God, did it feel right. 

Nothing had ever felt as right as this did right then, the feeling of his lips slotted against yours and his hands seemingly everywhere on your body, causing you to go near dizzy and drunk on his touch. 

“Fuck, love.” He said between kisses, moving you onto your back so he was hovering over you properly, leaning down to catch your lips back into a passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to breathe or let out your own moans, immediately swallowing up each and any sound you made. 

His hands came down to your thighs, helping you wrap them around his waist before he moved away to press pecks along your jawline, moving further down until he was leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all over your upper chest, his stubble tickling your skin. 

“S-Sim-”

He shushed you, sucking on the pressure point of your neck, pressing closer to you as you let out another breathless whine, his eyelashes brushing against your skin from the way he's snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was trying to have you impossibly close to him. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, covering your neck in kisses and love bites, answering with a “markin’ my territory” and a chuckle when you asked why he was so adamant on kissing you everywhere but where you needed it the most, his hands doing wonders as they went over your shirt to cup one of your breasts, immediately surprising you both my the loud moan that left you. 

“I-”

“Christ, lovie. That fuckin’ sensitive? Barely even touched you and you’re moaning like that?” He huffed out in amusement, leaning upwards in hopes of laying his eyes on the mess he’d left across your skin only to be met with darkness, grunting as he raised a hand to run over the marks, feeling the indents from his teeth around your neck. 

“It’s- It’s been a while, Si-” You mumbled out of embarrassment, thankful for the darkness since it was the only thing keeping you from fully breaking down from the shame of being so sensitive after a single touch, but you couldn’t really be blamed. 

It’d been almost a year and a half since you’d last indulged in any type of self-pleasure, the last time ironically being the night you’d spent with Simon before his mission, it was no wonder a simple brush of his warm hand to your breast had you writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat, you basically were. 

“Hm…” He grunted, leaning down to press some kisses along your flushed cheeks, still purposefully avoiding your mouth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he thought of what to do next. “...I want to see you.”

What?

“Properly.”

You felt his lips brush against yours slightly, knowing full well how titillating he was being. 

“Wh-”

“Turn the light on.”

You froze. 

You were staring up at the darkness of your ceiling, letting out soft breathless sounds as he leaned back down to continue kissing your neck, letting the words he’d just spoken sink in, letting out a chuckle against your ear after a minute or so passed. 

“Go.”

You acted on instinct only, stretching your body over to the lamp on your bedside table with the little space he had given you, the man still insisting on having his hands all over your body, your mind and thoughts reeling. 

It would’ve been different if he had his mask on, the small request would have been just for him to see the marks he’d left on you, to continue whatever you’d started in the light so you’d both be able to see your body’s reactions properly, but this was oh so much more than that. 

He didn’t seem to want to make a move to go get his mask or to cover his face, he was actually telling you to turn on the light so you could see him, see his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips, Simon

As soon as your shaking hand found the switch and had pressed it, your eyes closed in time for the room to be filled with light, a nervous sound leaving your lips as Simon pulled you back into place, his calloused fingers running over the length of your nose before poking at the middle of your furrowed brows. 

“Y’can open them.” He whispered, his own voice sounding slightly terrified. “Please.”

“What if you’re ugly?” You blurted out as a joke, trying to lighten the mood, immediately slapping yourself mentally the moment he didn't laugh, opening your mouth to apologise only for him to poke you again. 

“Jus’ open them.”

The first thing your eyes landed on was the smile pulling at his lips, leading them from the scar that adorned the left corner of his mouth past his crooked nose and up to those beautiful eyes of his, his blond eyelashes framing them perfectly like always. 

And fuck… He was beautiful. 

The stubble covering the lower part of his face, the scars littering his face telling stories and tales of all his time on duty, his cracked lips and scarred nose only complementing his beauty even more. 

It was everything and nothing like you’d expected, it was just… him. 

You didn't know what to say, what were you supposed to? But by the way his smile grew bigger at the sight of your dumbfounded face, you were sure that your expression told him everything he needed to know. 

Now, Simon knew that he wasn’t the worst looking person, but the way you were staring at him like he was a god incarnates, like Persephone herself had given him a piece of her beauty, it didn’t fail to tint his cheek a soft pink, quickly leaning into you to meet you in another kiss in hopes of hiding how flustered he was from you. 

“Mhf-” You tried speaking as soon as you had regained consciousness through his kisses, a giggle leaving your lips as he gave you no time to speak. “You’re- Mm- S- so pretty, Si-”

Pretty? He thought to himself as he continued his kissing assault, the adjective a very foreign concept, never having been referred to in that way in his life. But, it did feel nice when you said it, the way you were looking at him with that sultry gaze as the compliment oozed out of your mouth like honey, it had him grabbing at your thighs for stability, wrapping them around his waist and letting you make contact with the product of your make-out session and cute words. 

“F-fuck!” You mewled, grabbing at the back of his head for stability, tugging at the roots of his dirty blond hair, shivering underneath him as he let out a breathy groan, the sound sending pleasurable shocks down to where you both were connected, despite the amount of clothes that separated you both. “W-Wait- Hng!”

He stopped as soon as the word left your mouth, pulling back and moving his hands to hold your waist, giving you some time to regain your breath before asking. 

“‘vrything okay?” He said breathlessly, looking down at your equally dishevelled state, your lips red and sore from all his kissing and body littered with all the marks he’d left, taking a few seconds to admire his handiwork and how truly fucking perfect you looked covered in his claims before going back to waiting on you. 

“Y-yeah.” You swallowed, breathing and heart pulse erratic, coming down from the sudden pleasure. “I- I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I want to continue- Sor-”

“It’s okay.” He interrupted you, grabbing your thighs and pulling them away from their spot around his waist, pushing them together and placing them away from him, placing a comforting hand on the one that was still pressed next to his. “We don’t have to. Whatever y’want, love. ‘S been a long time, I get it.”

You nodded, sending him a small smile that he returned in an instant, leaning up to press a final kiss to his lips, thankful that he’d understood your fears so quickly. 

“You’ll stay, right?” You mumbled against his lips after pulling away slightly, looking at his through half-closed eyes, his deep beautiful pools staring back at you. 

“Always.”

His arms wrapped around you from behind once you situated yourself back in the bed, arms pressed tight and securely against our stomach as his thumb rubbed over the skin, a constant reminder that he was there and that you were safe like he’d promised, soft kisses being pressed against your nape from behind, a sweet contrast to the bites that now littered your front. 

“‘You going to wear the mask again?” You spoke drowsily, turning your head slightly so his lips pressed against your cheek, his breath tickling your ear. 

“Not unless you want me to.” He mumbled back, half-asleep. 

“Rather you did… Can’t focus with that ugly mug of yours…” You teased, letting out a high pitched yell as he bit down onto the space between your neck and shoulder, immediately soothing the pain with a kiss and a chuckle. 

“Only mug you’ll se ‘round here, lovie, better get used to it.”

how to lose a guy in 10 days

pairing - vinnie hacker x fem!youtuber!reader

summary - a story about a girl who is determined to film a new video, about her losing a guy, so she doesn't lose her subscribers on youtube, and a boy who is determined to prove to his friends, that he still can make a girl fall in love with him, even though he gets nervous while talking to women. what can go wrong?

warnings - nothing really, just my bad writing and maybe some cringe stuff? oh, and u have a best friend named avery !

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a/n: yes, yes, YES, this was so totally inspired by the wonderful film "how to lose a guy in 10 days". but c'mon, u can't blame me, it's a masterpiece!

! this is just part1 of i don't know how many parts, but i will be informing you about the next part and stuff, so i hope u enjoy !

youtube is the second most popular social media platform. it's known for the free shared videos, that people watch for their entertainment.

entertainment. a word that means something different for everyone.

some would say that they find enjoyment in comedy videos, some in gaming, but for some, it's just simple music.

but for y/n y/l/n youtube is so much more, than just fun. it's her job. her life. her passion.

the girl is known for her videos, where she talks about the most random stuff, that for teenage girls is just life. but she wasn't adored and loved just because of her channel, but because of the light and energy that she created and showed through the screen. every single video that y/n had created, whether it was about confidence, love, boys, or just about mental health, people, watching it, always felt a smile appear on their faces when the girl appeared on the screen.

and when the people had seen on her instagram story about the next video that she will be posting, they lost their shits.

"how to lose a guy in 10 days" was one of the most unique and entertaining topics that they had seen. the complete opposite of what teenage girls usually watched. but that's why y/n y/l/n was so interesting. she differed from others with her creativity.

but to be honest, the idea didn't just appear in her head...

"it's not that bad y/n/n," y/n's best friend, avery, said, sitting beside her on the couch.

"it's been a month! a month, since i have posted, av!"

it's been weeks since her last video was published on youtube and since then the girl had lost her spark.

remember the creativity she had? well, that's long gone.

losing motivation and inspiration isn't something bad, life happens, but for y/n it's hell. she felt like shit. not only because of the lack of ideas but also because her socials have been blasting with questions about where she has gone.

not only that, but the girl also noticed that there were people who unsubscribed from her channel because the number was smaller. that made her feel sick.

of course, she didn't do youtube only to gain fame. it was so much more than that. y/n enjoyed putting smiles on people's faces and enjoyed seeing their happy eyes when she met them in public.

but it was her job. and her supporters helped her do it, helped her fulfill her dream. but, unfortunately, life can't always be happy and magical.

"it's over," she let out a frustrated sigh, as she leaned back into the couch.

"just make a video about love tips or your crushes or stuff."

"yeah, it would be great, but 100 other youtubers will be doing the same things."

the trick of being a successful person was doing something different, and unique. and y/n y/l/n knew better than to make some videos about cupid's love, especially, when valentines day was coming up.

"okay, well then make something about the opposite of love and relationships."

"like, how to get dumped?" the girl let out a laugh, as she looked at her best friend.

avery smiled, "no, more like, how to get rid of a guy. it would be something new and really helpful for the ladies that are dying to get out of a relationship."

"again, av, their are lots of video's about that."

"then make it interesti- I KNOW!" the blonde got up.

at the movement, y/n sat up straight and looked at the girl in front of her, "oh no."

"oh, yes," a smirk appeared on her best friends face, "you need something entertaining? meet a guy, get him to want you, and then lose him in 10 days!!!"

this was the best of all of the ideas that she had already taught about. but she still wasn't sure if it would be good enough, not to mention y/n's ideas didn't include other people, and especially not where she would use them.

"i don't know... that sounds cruel. like, what if he really, really liked me, and then one day he came across the video on youtube, and then after watching it he realized he had been used? i jus-"

avery sat back down beside the girl, facing her, "trust me, if you will do everything that men hate, he will be done fast."

the idea wasn't bad. it was great! the girl just didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but her best friend was right. if she would get on the guy's nerves he would be done sooner or later, and her fans would get a fun video.

"okay," y/n gave a small smile trying to not overthink it.

"what about that one?"

after y/n's meeting with avery, she already let the fans know about the next video. everyone was excited, not only the girl had returned, but also she will be coming out with a new video.

so here she was with her best friend at a club. looking for the boy, that unfortunately will get hurt. "if you will do everything that men hate, he will be done fast," y/n reminded herself now and then, but still, the anxious feeling didn't leave her body.

"no, he's too-," the man that the blonde had pointed out picked his nose and brushed his fingers on his t-shirt. both girls felt disgusted watching him, "yeah, definitely not him," the other nodded in agreement.

sighing, they turned around.

"i'm thinking that we will have to find a girl instead, you know, they're a lot of hot ones here."

y/n chuckled at the comment.

although the place was crowded with young people, there wasn't any luck in finding a someone. even though y/n wasn't extremely excited about the idea, she still wanted to do this with a guy, who she felt good with, not with some disrespectful boy.

she led herself to the bar.

"could i get some water, please?" the bartender nodded, while the girl sat on the stool.

y/n y/l/n wasn't one of the drinkers, and especially now, when her head felt like exploding, it didn't seem like a good idea for ordering something stronger.

"this is stupid" the words circled in her head.

the bartender slid her a glass of water on the counter, "thank you."

she only had been in one relationship and even that ended with the guy leaving her because he didn't feel it anymore. so this all just seemed impossible.

not to mention that she hasn't spoken to any guy after her breakup. after her heartbreak, y/n felt stupid and embarrassed. she gave her all and in the end, he just walked away like the girl meant nothing. like their relationship was nothing.

and now she will be filming a video about her trying to get a guy to leave her. horrible. even though the boy will probably be disgusted by her in the end, it still will be horrible. and what if the guy doesn't want to leave her? what if he likes her so much that he will accept her "weird" side? and what if y/n y/l/n falls in lo-

"hey," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

the girl turned her head and saw a guy.

after hours of her trying to get the attention of other boys, this was the first time tonight that someone had approached her. not to mention that it was a really attractive guy with dirty blonde curly hair.

"hi," she responded. he radiated such a good aura that it was impossible for the girl not to smile.

"i'm y/n," she offered her hand, which he gladly took.

"vinnie," he gave her a small smile, that made her body go warm.

"so what brings you here?" y/n found herself wanting to know about him more.

"friends."

she could feel that the boy was nervous. she could tell by his body language, the way he was fidgeting with his rings. her eyes also saw some tattoos, which made her interest in him grow even more, "you like it here?"

"not really, no... you?"

"nop, i'm not a big crowd person."

meeting her supporters and meeting people who don't really know her wasn't the same. while she felt comfortable talking to her fans and interacting with them, meeting people who don't come to her just to talk for a few minutes and take some photos, made her nervous. and even though she was a youtube creator, people weren't y/n's thing.

she could feel that vinnie wasn't a talker too, so the girl wasn't surprised when the silence fell between them.

as the bartender came and took the empty glass, the boy spoke, "you wanna go somewhere else?"

the girl's head turned towards him, and her eyes locked with his brown ones, "like to a café?"

a small smile yet again appeared on her face, "yeah, sure, i'll just be right back," she said, getting up.

"i'll wait by the door."

"okay," y/n replied, as she walked past the people towards her best friend, who had been singing and dancing.

"there you are!" avery wrapped her hands around the girl, giving her a tight hug, "where were you?!"

"i found one," she whispered.

her best friend pulled back from the hug, slightly confused, "what?"

"i found the guy."

the blonde girl started looking around, "WHAT, WHERE?!"

"by the door, but just don't look, don-," but it was too late, because the next thing she knew, was her friend looking at her with wide eyes, "babe, he's HOT!"

"yeah, well, still need to see if he's the one."

"and if he is?"

"then you know," she sighed.

y/n still wasn't fond of the idea of making a boy fall for her, just to make him leave her in 10 days. especially, when vinnie seemed so nice. but at the end of the day, she couldn't let her career go downwards, and in a few days, she and vinnie won't have to see each other ever again. or that's what she thought.

"so what do you do for a living?"

"i'm a content creator. i film tiktoks, stream, and just do social media stuff."

of course, he is.

they were sitting in a café, where y/n used to come often. it wasn't a famous place, that's why it was great for people, who are famous in public. so, when vinnie suggested the place, she had a feeling that he was one of them.

it wasn't a bad thing or something.

the problem wasn't that he is recognized among the people. she didn't find him like a threat or a competition. nothing like that. she was just scared. let's just say it wouldn't be the best idea to use a boy like vinnie for her upcoming video.

"tiktoks?"

"uh, yeah."

vinnie saw how the girl grabbed her phone and went on tiktok. she started writing his name, but he immediately grabbed it, "okay, no need for that," the boy let out an awkward laugh.

y/n was a little confused about why he didn't want her to see his videos, but she decided to let it go.

"so, umm, what do you do?" he put her phone down, between them.

"i film videos for youtube."

"so i guess we will have to be careful so others don't see us together."

she slightly furrowed her eyebrows, at his comment, as she tilted her head to the side, "what makes you think that there is gonna be an "us"?"

"you wouldn't be sitting here if you wouldn't be interested."

"and here i was thinking that you're one of the shy guys."

"i'm full of surprises."

that intrigued her and terrified her at the same time.

she hoped that there won't be any surprises, that will cause them to blow up on socials. that's the last thing she wanted. the last thing she wanted was for him to know, what she will be doing these next few days. and she certainly doesn't want his supporters to know about it too, then her life will become a living hell.

her eyes were brought back to him, when she heard him let out a small laugh, "god, no. if i'm being honest, i'm actually bad with people, especially with women."

vinnie hacker came off as a confident guy, the tattoos, jewelry, sharp features, and his eyes. god, y/n felt like she could melt when their gazes locked. and she hated that.

she hated the feeling that a guy could make her feel like she once did. it wasn't like she was falling in love or something, she just hated the way he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world. that gave her deja vu from her past relationship, the one where she had been left standing in confusion about why her past lover suddenly didn't have feelings anymore.

the girl was surprised when he mentioned that he's not good with females, "women?"

"yeah, um... i probably didn't have to say that."

she sensed that he got a little embarrassed, as he ran a hand through his hair, "no, no, it's okay, i'm actually not quite good with men."

vinnie's eyes met y/n's again and she found herself continuing, "there was this one time, when a boy gave me a flower and i got so nervous, that i hit him with it on the head."

the boy started laughing, "but i promise, that was only one time, and i was like 11 then!"

there was no need for her to tell him that story, but like always she found herself saying things she shouldn't have. it was a bad trait of her's that she couldn't get rid of. talking with new people makes her nervous, which causes her to overspill, but seeing vinnie's smile made her lip corners slightly turn up, "so i guess no flowers then?"

"nop, for safety reasons," the boy let out a laugh again.

"but how about a phone number?"

the girl met his eyes that were already on her, "yeah, yeah, that can do," and with that, they both swapped phones and wrote their numbers in them.

when y/n was done she put down vinnie's phone and looked at the boy in front of her, who was still typing. he's the one.

she tried not to think about the video too much, because, at the end of the week, he won't even want to be near her. after all, she will be on his nerves, so it's not like the girl is gonna break his heart.

but little did she know that it wouldn't be so easy of getting vinnie to leave her...

"vinnie hacker?! tik toker?!"

y/n was getting ready for her and vinnie's meeting, while her best friend was yelling all over her apartment out of shock.

"it's not a big deal," she brushed her hair in the bathroom, as she looked at her friend, who was sitting on her bed.

"not a big deal?!" avery got up and entered the bathroom that was connected to y/n's bedroom, where the girl was getting ready, "he's THE vinnie hacker. THE influencer with who every girl is obsessed."

"well, yeah, it is a little risky, but-"

"A LITTLE?! it's a death wish! his supporters will go crazy if you will get caught and-"

"well, that's a good thing we won't. and besides, he will be running away from me soon, maybe even today," she put her hairbrush down and checked herself in the mirror, before walking into her bedroom.

it was the next day and they were going to be going to a skate park because vinnie likes skateboarding and he suggested for her to come with him since his friends can't today.

and as for the losing thing. y/n's plan was to act all clingy, which guys don't like, especially if they have just met. maybe even embarrass vinnie, somehow.

"and maybe even today you will both get caught?" the blonde followed the girl, "i mean there's a bunch of people at skate parks. it's enough just for someone to recognize you both and take a picture, and then BOOM, it's all over the internet."

y/n looked at the girl, "relax, it's gonna be okay. we're going to a skate park, where there aren't a lot of people," she gave her friend a small smile, "so, please, stop stressing, or you're gonna make me nervous."

avery nodded giving her a small smile, "this was a stupid idea."

"it was your idea."

"yeah, a stupid idea."

"speaking of the devil," y/n saw her phone light up on the dresser.

the girl picked up the phone and put it to her ear, "hey, vinnie boo." her best friend put her hand to her mouth, trying not to laugh, at how her friend talked.

y/n was met with silence before vinnie cleared his throat and finally spoke, "yeah, hey, i, um... i'm outside by the way."

"awwww, babbbyyy, you missed mee??" the room filled with her sweet voice and the girl herself put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

silence. again. "well, um, i said that i will be here at 5 pm."

"vinnie boo, my superman," her best friend let out a laugh and walked out of the bedroom.

y/n heard the boy awkwardly laugh, "yeah."

"well i'll be down in a minute, don't miss me too much, vinnie boo," and with that, she hung up.

if she would have to name the most embarrassing thing that she has ever done, this would be it. y/n already felt how humiliating it will be to act like a total creep. she pictured vinnie and how he must've felt. definitely shocked and that made her let out a chuckle.

the girl entered the living room, where the blonde was laughing, "that was bad, so so SOO BAD."

y/n smiled, "great because that was so embarrassing," she sat down on the couch to put on her shoes.

"poor, vinnie boo, feels so confused and lonely now" her friend teased.

the girl glared at her.

"okay, okay, sorry, just keep up the work, and he will be gone in no time."

"I hope so because i despise this," y/n got up and went to the door, "well, okay, wish me luck, love ya!"

"have fun! love you too," avery stayed seated on the couch as she watched the door close. the girl leaned back, "this is just gonna be great."