Locked With No Key (Rainbow Six Siege OC X Male Reader)

The Dream before the Nightmare

You frowned, looking in the mirror at your clothes. They didn't fit you anymore: your previously skinny arms had become strong and well-built.

"Why the grumpy look?" you heard Bel say from across the room.

"I think I'm gonna have to get new clothes. And I hate shopping."

"Oooo." She put her arms around you and squeezed your bicep. "I think you're quite handsome (Y/N)."

You sighed. She had been teasing you like this for the whole week and you couldn't even get mad at her; she'd probably kill you if you did.

You had two days until "Operation Blind Breach", as it had been dubbed by Seamus, and you were not ready or prepared in any way, mentally at least.

It was at a time like this when you would talk with Mark over a few pints at the nearest pub, or chat about non-existent relationships while playing Borderlands 2. At least you'd get your best friend back, if everything in the mission went as planned. If it all works out, then we'll leave with everyone except Ela, you thought, even though you didn't really mean it.

"I agree," you heard Artemis mutter as she relaxed her vice-like embrace. Oh shit, I said that out-loud. "We are going to get Mark back, okay? Don't worry about it: worrying will only make things worse."

"If I learned anything from losing you, it's exactly that," you commented. "If there's one thing you can promise me, just please, please say that we'll make this one out together."

She kissed the back of your neck lightly. "I'm not making any plans on die anytime soon."

"That's good," you said simply. You were content to just sit there for hours. You would love to lay there for years.

"How about some breakfast?" Bel got up slowly from the ground. "I'll make pancak-"

"Nope, you are definitely not!" you interrupted. The last time she had tried to cook something, the entire building had to be quarantined due to an outbreak of diphtheria.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't diphtheria exactly. More like contagious food poisoning, but the point still stands.

Besides, you could make a decent omelette, although it was pretty hard to cook with Bel's arms wrapped longingly around your waist the whole time.

You had almost finished frying the egg when someone knocked sharply on the door. "I'll get that," she sighed, slowly and disappointingly removing her arms from your waist. "Oh. Hi Grace."

You glanced over to see Miss Nam leaning against the doorframe. Dark bags hung under her eyes and she leant against the doorframe awkwardly: out of everyone in the base, Zofia's death had hit her the hardest.

"You sleep well (Y/N)?" she asked as she propped her head up with her palm.

"I know you didn't," you chuckled, flipping the omelette over to cook both sides evenly. "Bel and I are always welcome if you want to talk about it."

"I think it's better not to talk too much about it," Grace sighed glumly. "She'd want me to move on."

"Hey." Bel gently wrapped her arms around the small Korean woman, who was surprised at the kind gesture. She returned the hug and they stood there for at least three minutes.

"You're lucky I cooked for three," you spoke softly, nudging Grace slightly with a plateful of omelette. She lifted her head up and, for the first time in weeks, smiled genuinely.

"Where's mine?" Bel said with an over-exaggerated frown.

"Wait your turn you greedy shit! Or no kisses for a week," you threatened, waggling a not very threatening finger at her.