#i love him so much i hope he gets worse but to be honest this wasnt it
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Wait people actually don't like Jax now? What. Why. He literally didn't do anything worse in ep2 than ep1? And still had like a 0.5second shot of a crack in the façade also?? Bro what.
What did he do this episode that was worse than leave ragatha and pomni in the dust with Kaufmo (arguably the only threat with REAL consequences in the circus this far)?
Did y'all forget he stepped on Gangle's mask and also shoved her on the ground while getting to the escalator in the first episode?
He literally did nothing new I'm so confused where the hate is coming from 😭
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Who? ˳༄꠶
jealous!Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader ༄꠶
summary: “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man."
warnings: very very mild sexual concepts, jealous Rafe
based on this request!
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Rafe Cameron was looking right at you with a death glare, the kind of look you’d pin on horrible people who were only doing horrible things. You’d think your boyfriend would understand that being in college requires unavoidable group work, which leads to unavoidable conversations with people you would much rather not know at all. Naturally, you were wrong. Devastatingly wrong.
“I don’t get it.” He said plainly for the fifteenth time that night, “You don’t even need this class if I’m honest.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to focus more on packing your things rather than the hole he was staring into your back.
“Don’t do that shit.. c’mon baby..” Rafe said, getting up to stand closer to you, a persuading hand on your hip, “M’working so hard to give you a life where you don’t gotta work and-“
“Rafe, we’ve talked about this too many times.” You cut him off in hopes to finally shut him up.
“Well why don’t we talk about it again,” He said, a tiny smile on his face, “Like right now? Over dinner?”
“Baby you know that my group members will kill me if I don’t pull through.” You shrugged past him, walking to put your shoes on.
You weren’t wearing anything near special. Sweatpants and one of Rafe’s oversized hoodies were all that you were planning on showing off. But in Rafe’s eyes, HE would fuck you in that, so who’s to say that no one else would? Naturally, he carries a heavy bias considering that Rafe would fuck you in anything, but he says ‘that’s not the point.’
“So what, you’re gonna spend all night with people you don’t even like?” He asked with a scoff.
You gave him an annoyed nod, trying to prove your point.
“That’s gotta be like.. bad for your uh.. mental health. You should stay in.”
“Rafe stop-“ You started before getting a ping on your phone. You groaned to finish the sentence, storming off to get your shoes on.
“What?” Rafe called after you, quietly shuffling behind before picking your phone up and looking at the recent notifications.
Connor: When r u getting here?
“Who’s this?” Rafe asked, pointing to the phone with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
“One of my group members, love.” You said, trying to stifle a giggle over how protective he was over you.
“Another man? Absolutely not,” He said, turning away from you to block the door out of your shared apartment before continuing his rant, “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man. Who do you think-“
You pushed past him, backpack already slung over your shoulders as you made your escape to the front door.
“Nope.” He said plainly, grabbing the back of your bag and making you look at him, his fingers tracing your jaw and holding your eyes to his.
“Rafe..” You whined, but his touch was strict.
“You’re mine, baby. Not Connor’s, a’ight?” He said, brushing hair from your face.
“I’m yours.” You repeated, standing on your tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
His eyes softened and he thought he got you wrapped around his finger, pulling away to look at your flushed face. Instead, you darted to the door when his touch weakened, hand on the knob before Rafe could get another word in.
“Love you!” You said, closing it before everything caught up to him.
The group work went fine and almost exactly like you thought. A long session and a gut wrenching feeling of exhaustion afterwards. It’s never your favorite event but there were worse things that could happen. Things like walking back into your apartment after narrowly escaping your boyfriend’s possessive hand.
You opened the door quietly, which was already unnecessary. Of course he was still wide awake, waiting for you like a father punishing his daughter for sneaking out. He was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and scowling at you.
“What the fuck?” He asked, getting up to meet you at the front door.
You shoved your shoes off, setting down your backpack and walking closer to Rafe.
“M’tired baby..” You said, making every attempt to walk past the intimidating block he made in the hallway.
“No, no no.. this isn’t how it’s gonna work,” Rafe said, using both of his hands to hold your shoulders and forcing you to stand right in front of him as he lowered his voice, “Can’t just do that baby.. a’ight?”
“Sorry..” You whispered, breaking free of his hold on your shoulders and instead pulling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.
You could feel the slightly annoyed laugh that bubbled from him, but you could also feel the chaste kiss that he left on the top of your head. Rafe’s soft spot for you would always shine through his anger. You let yourself melt into his arms while you contemplated falling asleep standing.
“C’mon..” He whispered into you, equally as tired from staying up and waiting for you to come back to him.
You felt him pick you up cautiously, kissing your cheek as you let your eyes start to close.
——————————————————————
The next morning was a beautiful Saturday, which of course was the day you woke up to about 15 messages from your project’s group chat. Somehow you managed to squirm away from Rafe’s death grip over your body to check your phone. Casual conversations relating to different parts of the project and other things that you wanted nothing to do with flashed across the screen.
Over your shoulder you heard Rafe groan and felt him reach for where you weren’t. He looked around for you, watching groggily as you typed out a response on your phone.
“Baby..” He trailed off, rubbing his eyes.
“Sorry.. group project.” You whispered, giving in and letting yourself melt back into his arms.
“At 9 in the morning?” Rafe mumbled into you, an annoyed sigh died in his throat when you ran your fingers through his hair.
Sleep clouded your mind as the two of you held each other close again. He wasn’t trying to show it, but his possessiveness and jealousy were leaking out of him like a faucet.
“G’morning princess..” You heard Rafe whisper from above you, brushing the lazy hair from your cheeks.
You groaned and shifted, trying to find the warmth in the bed now that Rafe had gotten up.
“Let’s get lunch, hm?” He asked, gently moving you to face him again.
You nodded, trying to nod away the urge to dive back under the blankets.
Getting ready wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, just because Rafe had already bought you the perfect outfit and you didn’t have to fight off your hair as much as you normally did. Whenever you got ready, Rafe would always finish before you and sit on the edge of the bed, admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks would flush up and you could never get your blush right anymore because he somehow always had your face a pink shade of red.
Rafe grabbed your bag for you, a small purse that fit your pretty dress. He also went to get your phone from its shameful place at the bedside table because of course you had forgotten to charge it last night.
One text had lit up your screen and his eyes narrowed the moment he saw it was from Connor.
“Baby, why is Connor texting you?” He asked, walking to your spot in the bathroom and shoving the phone in your face to quickly get your attention.
You took the phone, opening the notification while Rafe watched from over your shoulder.
Connor: Hey, I have some ideas for the paper. You want to meet up to talk? I was thinking a Cafe or something.
You could feel the angry red heat of jealousy seeping out of Rafe’s body.
“I told you.” He said, taking the phone from you and staring at the message again, almost dumbfounded at Connor’s audacity.
“M’not going.” You said plainly, looking at him with a lightly apologetic look.
“Damn right you’re not.” He replied, throwing your phone onto the bed and looking at you with an angry glare staring down at your face.
You watched an idea form in his head. It was easily not anything good considering the way his lips turned up in a thin smile and his gaze moved between you and the phone in a heartbeat.
“Y’know.. I really don’t want my girl missn’ anything..” He trailed off, walking to where he threw your phone originally.
“Rafe..” You tried to protest, not fully understanding where his head was at.
“No.. I think I gotta be a good boyfriend here.” He nodded to himself before looking at you with an unforgettable smirk.
“Baby I don’t want to go.” You said, walking up to him and trying to read his cocky expression.
“You, go?” He asked with faux confusion, cocking his head to the side, “No no, you’ve got it all wrong.”
Rafe stood up, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles before looking back down at you. Now it was your turn to be confused, furrowing your eyebrows.
“You think I’m stupid, baby?” He mocks, kissing your up jaw and stopping by your ear, “M’gonna go in for you.”
Whatever hint of a smile you had on your face slowly disappeared as realization dawned on you.
“I think I’ll text him right now and let him know I’m on my way. Give him a nice surprise when he realizes it’s not the pretty little girl that he wants.” Rafe said slyly, pulling back with a malicious smile.
“Then he and I can really talk, hm?”
The next day, Connor dropped the class.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
#mariespen#outer banks#rafe cameron#obx fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe drabble#rafe cameron blurb#jealous!rafe cameron#jealous rafe#obx x reader#outer banks imagine#obx fanfiction#obx
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Yandere Head Canons:
The Wishing Well
Yandere Kraken x Fem Reader
TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, monster fucking, etc
When you were a child, you were often told about a wishing well deep within a sea cave. A well that would grant you any wish your heart desired so long as you made a deal of equal standing with the magical creature that resided in it. Yet most of your fellow villagers said the price was always worth more than what you desired… and the forest was extremely dangerous.
There was a tale about a king who had wished for more riches, yet he returned from the well with no hands so he could no longer hold the gold he had so foolishly sought out.
There was another tale of a woman who went to the well to wish for a child, yet she returned from the well with a round stomach. The villagers all said her baby was a monster.
You were told only one good story about the well. A story of a man who had went to the well to wish for his wife’s health to improve. A hopeless romantic, your peers called him. A man who successfully made a wish and had his wife healed from her incurable disease… yet he never returned from that well. The villagers all assumed the worse, that he sacrificed his own life for his lover…
These stories terrified you as child so you never really thought about the well. At least not until you reached adulthood, anyways. When your village was being threatened by orcs from foreign lands. Your village would perish if they didn’t surrender all of their women to the invaders.
Your villages population was mostly elderly people so there were only ten options of women to send off and you were one of them. You didn’t want to be the whore of an invader, you wanted to marry your lover, Valo… a handsome young man who lived by the seaside on his own. He was a bit eccentric, but you could see yourself with him.
There was only one way to save yourself and your village. And that would be to use the well.
And so you journeyed deep into the frozen sea cave on your quest to liberate your land. Your hopes high despite the small bit of dread that pooled into your stomach. The price shouldn’t be too bad… no. It didn’t matter what the price was. Because you’d rather die than lose your dignity.
Your journey took over three hours, but you finally stood in front of the old well. It was so much larger than the stories had described… and it seemed bottomless from how pitch black the water was.
“H-hello? I’m here to make a wish.” You yelped when a masked face popped up from the well. The man’s muscular upper torso leaned on the edge of the well to stare at you.
“A wish?” The man’s voice was raspy, almost as if he hadn’t spoken in eons. “I haven’t received a wish yet… okay. I’ll grant your wish if I like it.”
What did this man mean by that? Was he the creature of the well? You tried to see what was behind the man’s upper torso yet it was impossible to get around this man.
“No need to be shy. I want to hear what your wish is. You’re the first human I have seen.” Oh? But this well has been here for generations… perhaps the creature within it changed every so often?
“I’m here to save my village from invaders.” You gasped when he grabbed your jaw to tilt your head towards him.
“How noble… I don’t believe that’s all you want though. You’re hesitant.” The man chuckled at your flushed cheeks. “Are you afraid of me?”
You cast your gaze to the floor which made the man burst into laughter. “Goodness! How fun! Please be honest or else you had made this journey for naught.”
“The other girls and I will be sacrificed to the invaders to be… to be their wives or slaves.” Your voice is so soft yet it echoed throughout the icy cave. “Please help my village! I don’t want to be with someone I don’t love-“
You felt your heart stop when the man’s masked face was now only a few inches from yours. His violet eyes studied your form in interest before he sat up. “You’re not lying and I find you quite pretty.”
The man snapped his fingers and a contract appeared from thin air, the words written on it were in an olden tongue you couldn’t grasp. “I will grant your wish but you must sign this contract. I don’t want you to butt out of our end of the deal.”
“Deal?” You’re puzzled by the man who laughed at your gobsmacked expression.
“Duh. Wishes aren’t for free otherwise more people would come to me.” The man nodded his head at her.
“But what is it that you want from me?” You asked the man who merely gave you a smirk.
“I’ll tell you once your little invader issue is resolved. Until then, you’re free to go about your life.” You bit your lip but ultimately signed, the man quickly snatched up the contract as his body spun in circles in the pitch black water of the well. “I’m thrilled! It’s been so long since I’ve had company…”
The man turned to her with a grin. “You said you’ll only be with someone you love, right?”
“Yes?” The man nodded his head and snapped his fingers, the contract disappeared into thin air.
“Then it’s settled. I will collect you when the time is right.” The man then waved you away as you made your long journey home. The man was now absolutely giddy. Was this how his mother felt when she met his father all those centuries ago? He was so happy that you were indeed the one.
You did go about your life and was surprised to hear how a kraken destroyed the invaders’ ships. It was a terrifying site to see the dismembered bodies and ship wreckage on the frozen shores of your home… yet it was satisfying. Everyone was safe, just as promised.
There was no longer the threat of foreign invaders… which meant you were able to spend more time with your lover. The violet haired man beamed at you when he invited you to walk on the icy beach with him.
“Once winter is over, why don’t we get married?” Valo blushed when you took his hand in yours. “The sea is always bursting with life in the summer…”
“I’d love to.” The two of you giggled in bliss. Yet you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the man from the well would call upon you soon to pay off your end of the deal…
After that day with Valo, you were plagued with nightmares of a creature from the deep. A violet kraken that wrapped its tentacles around your small body and plunged you into the depths of the dark ocean. The tendrils would squeeze you in ways that were salacious. The violet appendages would shove their way down your throat and into your poor hole. It was such a terrifying nightmare, one that always felt so real.
You’d often wake up with sore arms, legs, and sometimes sore nether regions from these dreams. Perhaps you should spend more time with Valo? Your lover always made you feel more comfortable…
And it was now summer! The two of you were going to get married soon, anyways. It wouldn’t hurt to see Valo…
And so you went to your lover’s home on the shore. Your fellow villagers quirked a brow at you. They never knew why you went to the beach so often with a smile on your face since you always came back empty handed.
No one had lived on that shore for centuries after the fisherman disappeared to save his wife at the well in the sea cave.
“Valo?” You approach the violet haired man who gives you a bright smile. His violet eyes eerily shine under the moonlight as his body remained half submerged in the sea.
“My dear, it’s time to pay off your debt.” You freeze when you hear the familiar voice of the man from the well leave Valo’s throat. “You said you’d only be with someone you love, so it’s time for you to pay your dues.”
You scream when violet tentacles shoot out from the murky water and wrap around you. What? But… how? These were the tentacles from your nightmares. The violet tendrils that wrapped themselves skeins your pliable body when you were in dream world… the tendrils that fucked you.
“V-Valo?!”
“I’m sure you’ll love our new home… it isn’t often a kraken finds their mate.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#mermay#yandere mermaid#yandere merman#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster smut#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#tentacles#teratophillia#monster x reader#monster x human#monster fucking#monster oc#octopus mermaid
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Waking Him up with a Kiss
Summary: Malleus/Silver/Jamil x Gn!Reader. You wake your lover up with a kiss.
Requested by an anon. Fuck you, Tumblr.
CW: Jamil is kinda sus but I wouldn't be doing him justice if he wasn't.
Also! Always get consent from your partner before kissing them in their sleep! That's a cool kid thing to do!
He'd been hinting at this for a while now. All his life, Lilia had regaled him with fairy tales where the sleeping prince or princess was woken with true love's kiss. Malleus had always been a hopeless romantic, and, damn, did he want that!
He'd left the books out when he slept over. He made sure that if he knew you would come looking for him, he'd nap on his back. He sighs dreamily (and loudly) whenever he rereads those fairytales next to you. He waxes on and on about how romantic being awoken with a kiss is. He knows he's dense. But he thinks you're worse.
Lilia giggles and says to be patient, Silver says to just tell you what he wants, and Sebek says to just banish you for the treason of making him sad. He decides that Lilia has never steered him wrong before, so he decides to be patient.
And one day it happens. He's dreaming of you, walking through a meadow, hand in hand. You turn to him, your radiant smile glowing brighter than the sun of his dreams. You press your lips to his, gentle as a cloud, and it feels so real that he doesn't want to wake up.
But he does, and he moans a little as he regrets losing the dream world. But the feeling of your lips doesn't fade. Light as a cloud, gentle as a dove, a feeling that makes him feel so full inside he thinks he'll burst.
His eyes flutter open, and there you are, on your knees in the grass, smiling softly as you push one of his dark bangs away from his eyes. He smiles sleepily, putting together that his dream came true.
“Now that you've given me a taste, I hope you know that I am insatiable,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep. You giggled, as though you thought he was joking.
Oh, you sweet little human.
He is not joking.
He has told you this on many occasions. If you are hanging out, and he falls asleep, do whatever you need to to wake him up. He originally tried to be chill about it, but eventually he let on just how much it distressed him when he missed time with you. He didn't want to miss out on any time with you. Yes, it was partially for you. But if he was honest, it was mostly for him. It hurt his chest to think about losing time with someone he loved. Being around the fae taught him every moment mattered.
Usually, you try everything. You shake him, you steal his pillow, you bang a pot, you set three alarms to go off at the same time. But today, you tried something different.
Silver blinked his eyes open, only to be met by your uncertain ones staring back at him, your face hovering a few inches above his.
He gently lifted a hand to his lips, the ghost of your kiss lingering. He may not have been fully awake for it, but he knows it happened.
His mind was immediately transported to a moment in his youth. He was sitting by his father, sniffling sadly because he fell asleep during Lilia's birthday party.
“Ah, my sweet son,” Lilia said with a warm smile, gently nuzzling his cheek against Silver's. “I know it's not your fault. Even doctors have told you you can't help it. I am not upset at all.”
“But it's your birthday,” Silver sniffled. “I feel like I must be cursed.”
Lilia's eyes widened in understanding.
“That must be it!” He said excitedly. He ran to the nearby bookshelf and pulled off a book, before nodding sagely.
“Yes, that must be it, look,” he flipped to a page in the story, pointing to a picture of a sleeping princess being kissed awake by a knight in shining armor. “I know this curse! When you find true love, perhaps their kiss will save you!”
Silver excitedly nodded at the picture, his eyes wide.
Lilia snapped the book shut, authoritatively. “But until then, I don't want you to be sad when you fall asleep. Your hero will save you one day. And they might be sad that they took a long time to save you. So if you are less hard on yourself, it might help them feel better. Promise?”
Silver nodded happily.
Lilia is a menace, filling his son's heads with fairytales. /Affectionate
In the present, Silver smiled softly.
“Did you kiss me awake?”
“Sorry, I know I should have asked, but I figured when you said wake me up however I can-”
“That's correct. I could have said it plainly, but this is definitely what I pictured when I said that. But in case you need me to verbally say it, yes, please continue to wake me up like this. I think I will wake up every single time.”
You smiled at him, still hovering over him, making him long for your kiss again.
“You know, I wasn't awake for the last one. Would you please kiss me again?”
You giggled, then leaned in and pressed your lips to his.
“I feel like I need more ways to show my love for you,” you said thoughtfully. Jamil sat next to you on your bed in Ramshackle, reading over your report, and checking for mistakes.
“And what makes you say that?” He hummed in amusement.
“Seriously? You do everything for me! And I'm just kinda here!”
“I'm perfectly satisfied with that. In fact, I'd rather do all the hard stuff so that you have the energy to shower me in affection when I'm done,” he snickered to himself. If anything, a small selfish part of him liked the idea of you feeling like you had something to prove. It made you a very physically affectionate lover to “make up for it”. And while he was easily flustered, he very much liked the gentle caresses, warm embraces, and hungry kisses you gave him.
“Tell you what,” he hummed, handing you back the marked up report. It would take you hours to make the corrections. He loved you, but you were at a disadvantage when it came to college courses in the laws of magic. “I'm going to take a nap. When you finish, I'd really feel loved if you kissed me awake.”
He laid down, resting an arm over his eyes.
“You could just stay the night if you're that tired,” you said in that tone of voice that only came when you were pouting.
“Can't. Kalim has a test tomorrow, and I need to make sure he wakes up for it.”
You grumbled something, but he was already out cold.
He felt…warm. He softly sighed, as he felt your kiss deepen. Still not opening his eyes, he wrapped an arm around your neck, and continued sleepily kissing you. Yeah. This is the life he wanted. To be rewarded for his hard work with your affection.
He finally opened his eyes with a scowl when you pulled away.
“I didn't say to stop. This is about expressing your love, right?” He snickered.
You pouted. “I miss when every single thing would fluster you.”
He scowled and stood up, stretching away the sleepiness as he prepared for his trek back to his dorm.
“I don't.”
You smiled sweetly, then reached out for his hair.
“Luckily, I can still make you all blushy when I play with your hair.”
Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @pikeru565
“Good night love,” he scowled as he stormed out of the room.
....
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia#silver x reader#silver#twst silver#twst silver x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil viper
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Cheating Heart
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)
Word Count: 20.8k
Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot
A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.
“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”
“Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.”
Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”
Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.
“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”
“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”
“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”
Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.”
The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison.
Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.
Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.
It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell.
“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”
“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”
“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”
Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.
“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”
Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.
“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”
“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.
“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”
“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”
“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”
The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.
You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.
Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes.
“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”
Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.
“--soon?”
You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.
“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”
Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood.
You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.
“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you.
If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.
“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!”
His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.
“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath.
Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.
It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.
Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.
Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform.
“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on.
Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.
Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories.
John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps.
You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain.
As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly.
The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations.
“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”
“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”
“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”
“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”
You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…
Your eyes harden as reality sets in.
John.
“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own.
Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down.
Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock.
Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all.
A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.
Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.
“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”
“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”
Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.
The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?
John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in.
Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong.
For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him.
“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.
If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath.
It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.
A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly.
Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.
Why did you care?
Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man.
“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.
John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks.
The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion.
“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy?
Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound.
If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.
“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”
“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”
“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”
“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder.
Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.
“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”
Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?
Shut the fuck up!
A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.
Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?
That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.
“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.
“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”
Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes.
John’s hands clench, jaw following suit.
You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up.
“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.
John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself.
No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it.
That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.
The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!
But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you.
Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.
Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.
If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in.
You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling.
That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority.
But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.
“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”
A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.
“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”
“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”
When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.
“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?”
As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight.
If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you.
But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force.
He was your Captain. You were working under him.
You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset.
But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.
“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks.
John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late.
Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds.
Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.
You still felt disgusting.
—
Nothing you did made sense to him.
John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all.
She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail.
I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.
Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong.
But he knew that would only make it worse.
“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”
But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that?
Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.
Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given.
It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent.
You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.
John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything.
“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair.
The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky.
Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.
—
The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in.
You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home.
Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.
He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too.
Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown.
You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.
Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge.
“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.”
The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.
Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.
“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation.
You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.
Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’
John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories.
On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand.
John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters.
“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight.
– John”
Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.
More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.
You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago.
Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances.
It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.
John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation.
You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.
“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”
Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch.
Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking.
But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands.
When had this place stopped being home for you?
“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…”
You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it.
“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”
“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”
Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch.
What’s that noise?
“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”
But you weren’t stupid.
A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet.
You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.
Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles.
Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.
“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!”
Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend.
“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”
Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided.
“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!”
Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you.
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”
“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers.
“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them.
Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.
“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained.
You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house.
“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly.
“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door.
Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too.
Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.
The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.
“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”
Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip.
You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.
“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”
Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.
“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”
“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!”
“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”
Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”
Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more.
A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.
“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”
Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.
“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”
Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least.
You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.
Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.
The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed.
Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle.
Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise.
Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood.
Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot.
John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through.
Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.
That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.
“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.”
Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat.
The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.
John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.
“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.
“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”
“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”
When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off.
“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”
The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright.
Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.
Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his.
John looked so sad.
His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.
“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.”
“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor.
“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting.
“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head.
You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack.
It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something.
You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.
When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone.
Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.
Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)
He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.
“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”
—
Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter.
“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?”
“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?”
Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.”
John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod.
The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.
After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.
“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.
Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about.
“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”
“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”
“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”
“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.
“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”
“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue.
To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out.
It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it.
“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’
Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from.
“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.”
“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”
John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket.
“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–”
The bell at the front door jingles.
Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips.
A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth.
You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John.
“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.
“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”
The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.
“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”
Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”
A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.
Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.
His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.
“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.”
“...Two.”
“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”
“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?”
A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation.
Why were you not saying anything?
John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles.
There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face.
But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.
Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.
What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…
The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.
Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.
“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two.
John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?
He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.
You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.
John’s eyes slowly widen.
Oh.
Oh.
—
“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”
“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!”
“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”
“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”
“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved.
A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them.
John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”
“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”
Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens,
“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?”
Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name.
The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress.
You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.
But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.
Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me?
It couldn’t be helped.
When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter.
Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship.
Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?
You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.
“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon.
“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.”
Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.”
The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out.
“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”
You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”
“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder.
Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it.
Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.
“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”
“...I might have sucker-punched him.”
John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums.
“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.
He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again.
“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.
“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”
“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.
You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back.
…Why was his hand still on your back?
“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you.
John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.
It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.
Leon was gone.
“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”
The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”
John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you.
His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.
Stop it.
“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”
“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.
Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.
Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did.
If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart.
“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.
“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”
“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand.
“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”
You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.”
Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.
“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”
Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.
“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.”
He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.
“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”
A quiet grunt carries over the space.
You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.
Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”
“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You bet.”
“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hey–!”
“What in the–!”
Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny.
“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.
“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”
“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.
You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.
This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold.
After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?
Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.
You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.
“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head.
His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water.
“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out.
You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?
“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.
“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place.
His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.
“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.”
The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.
“...Anytime, Dear.”
Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.
The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head?
When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake.
Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat.
“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.
You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.
“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?
He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt.
“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”
“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.
“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty.
“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.
“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.”
John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk.
He’s cute when he’s flustered.
“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”
Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach.
Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.
A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.
You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.
“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.
If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.
Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore.
Leon was gone.
“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?”
Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire.
You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior!
Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless.
“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”
But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.
It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.
But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?
And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you.
“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.”
So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his.
John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths.
His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke.
“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.
“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.”
His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this.
Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.
The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.
It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.
Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.
“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”
“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?
His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.
“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths.
Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.
“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”
He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.
You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.
That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action.
His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”
Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow.
God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.
John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee.
You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers.
“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”
“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point.
Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now.
“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever.
Annoyance swirls.
“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”
A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.
“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you.
John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner.
He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.
You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you.
John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets.
“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?”
Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.”
“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.
Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs...
You want him naked.
“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest.
The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.
You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.
When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.
John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand.
He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.
You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube.
“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.
Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.
John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug.
“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”
You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.
A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release.
Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”
“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”
Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again.
“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”
His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film.
John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.
“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.
You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release.
“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.”
Fuck you were on fire.
Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you.
John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar.
Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt.
“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”
He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.
“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue.
The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind.
And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.
John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.
“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”
The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot.
Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.
John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still.
Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.
You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.
His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.
“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.”
You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly.
“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it.
Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.
“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”
“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”
Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Y-yes, Captain.”
John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away.
“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”
You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.
Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.
“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving.
How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.
But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.
The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.
You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.
Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.
“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other.
“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself.
John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.
“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.”
“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”
“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”
He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.
“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”
The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.
You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too.
“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes.
“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”
“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”
Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.
“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.”
The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same.
“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made.
Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available.
Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it.
“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.”
He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.
John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.
A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”
“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.”
Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.
“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”
“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.”
John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”
He trails.
“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”
Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.
“Easier.”
It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.
“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.
“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”
You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.
Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind.
John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.
There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared.
—
“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.”
Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–
“That’s it, I'm coming in!”
“Wait!”
But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick.
“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?”
“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–”
“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?”
“Out!”
Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck.
John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”
Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.
“Wait till the boys hear about this!”
The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.
Well, secret’s out.
#john price#captain johnathan price#captain john price#john price x reader#John price x you#captain price#x reader smut#cod#cod x reader#cod smut#cod mw22#cod x you#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#MW#MW2#Call Of Duty MW2#mw2 2022#x female reader#female reader
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vengeance.
roommate!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’re tired of dealing with your boyfriend’s awful habits. when he ends up crossing the line with you one day, you decide to get back at him, and your not-so-innocent roommate has the perfect way to do it.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are roommates, reader has a shitty boyfriend, slight mentions of alcohol consumption and partying, infidelity/cheating, sex tape/amateur porn, kinda roughdom!abby, strap usage (r!receiving), abby referring to the strap as her cock, slight choking, daddy kink, abby hits it from the back, oral & fingering (r!receiving), pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare at the end ofc
- author’s note: hi everyone!! so i decided to do my very first collab with none other than the amazingly talented @whore4abby, i’m so grateful to have done this with you!!
also, consider this fic as our 1k special from us to you. thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve given to the both of us 🤍 we hope you enjoy it!!
you don’t really know how you got yourself to this point.
well, you do, actually…but you didn’t know how this could have possibly escalated so fast.
it was just a silly little conversation at first. you were simply venting to your roommate, abby about your boyfriend for what was probably the millionth time now.
“ugh, i just can’t believe him!” you exclaimed to her as you frantically paced around your room. “i told him to make the best impression to meet my parents last weekend and what does he do?! he shows up to the restaurant thirty minutes late smelling like alcohol. how can he be so…so inconsiderate?!”
you’ve been in an on-again, off-again relationship with your boyfriend for about a year now. everything went fine with the two of you at first, but now it somehow just progressed to where you both can’t even make it a week without breaking up.
abby is sat at the foot of your bed, nodding in acknowledgement as you continued to ramble to her about your asshole boyfriend. you truly couldn’t ask for a better friend like her to listen to all of your problems about this, because unlike abby, you knew that anyone else you might know couldn’t withstand having to hear about the same person every damn day of the week.
“i seriously think i’m gonna break up with him now, for good this time.” you tell her with confidence.
abby lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes at your statement. “isn’t that what you said the last fifteen times though?” she asked, further manspreading on your bed before pulling her phone out of her pocket to scroll through it.
“i know, i know,” you said, continuing to pace around your room. “he’s done so much stupid shit lately, but this is honestly the final straw for me. who knows how much worse he could get if i—“
“hey, um…you might wanna see this.” abby says, showing you her phone screen. “isn’t that him?”
“what? what are you—“ your words drift off for a moment. you take a step towards her to take a closer look at her phone. it was an instagram story that her friend manny had posted, containing a video of some frat party happening right now and you could visibly see a girl grinding and making out with your boyfriend, clear as day.
now that was really the last straw for you.
“that asshole…” you mutter quietly to yourself as you watched the story again.
to be honest, you weren’t even that upset about it. well, you were, but not to where you’d be in tears crying over him. but rather, you had an urge to try to get back at him somehow. you wanted to retaliate against him. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
you wanted to give him vengeance.
“i seriously can’t believe him right now,” you tell abby again as you hand the phone back to her. “you know, i’m not even upset that he cheated on me, i just…” you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. “i just wish i could get back at him, give him some sort of payback you know?”
“yeah, i get you.” abby replies before looking back down at her phone. “you know…i think i might have an idea to get back at him…show that asshole what he’s missing…” she said, flipping her phone around to eye at the camera for a moment before looking back up at you.
“really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as you took another step towards her. “i’m down for whatever, what did you have in mind?”
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and that’s how you got to where you were now, as if it had happened in a matter of seconds.
“c’mon, baby… look at the camera for me.” abby murmured to you from behind.
you laid at the center of your bed, bare body sprawled out with your ass up and abby’s thick, black strap nestled deep inside your wet cunt.
you didn’t want to admit it, but the stretch that abby’s cock had in you was overbearing. you really thought you’d take it, you told her so yourself. but now that you were feeling every single inch inside you, from base to tip—you were very, very wrong. you’re trying as best as you can to follow abby’s commands, but the immense length and girth of her strap has you feeling dizzy.
one of her hands reaches down under your stomach and makes its way up to your neck. “you really want me to repeat myself right now, princess?” she says in a firm tone, keeping her grip on your neck. “i said, look at the camera for me.”
“oh, fuck—“ you whimper to yourself as chills start to go through your spine. your whole body is fucking trembling and abby still has yet to move her cock inside you.
you try to lift your head up, looking straight into the camera on abby’s phone that was currently propped up in front of the two of you, the most dumbfounded expression was stricken on your face at the moment. you were already so cockdrunk and it clearly shows.
“atta girl…would you look at that?” abby says, looking into the camera with you as well. “see how pretty your girlfriend looks on my cock? she’s already drunk and i haven’t even started moving yet…not so bad for a girl if i do say so myself.” she continues narrating into the camera. “i’ll show you how it’s really done, yeah?”
and with that she began to start moving, painfully slow to say the least. you felt her hand let go of its grip on your neck and move to your hip, gripping it tightly as she kept slowly thrusting her cock inside you.
“you like that, princess? like how my cock feels inside you?” she asks in between her thrusts.
you end up mumbling something into the sheets, and abby could’ve sworn that you were calling her a name. her hand quickly returns back to your neck, lifting you up and pulling you back towards her as she kept her cock inside you. “what did you just call me? tell me what you just said.” she says in a stern tone, slowly tightening her grip on your neck.
“f-feels so good, d-daddy…” you slur out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of the strap gently presses against your g spot.
the smirk on abby’s face grew wider as she heard you call her that name. it was like music to her ears, and she couldn’t help but play along with it. “yeah? does it feel good, princess? does daddy’s cock feel good inside that little pussy of yours?” she asks, receiving a whiny nod from you in response.
abby looks into the camera and lets out a quiet groan at the sight of the two of you on her phone screen. “oh fuck, you’re not wrong…let’s take a closer look there, shall we?” she says, keeping your body up against hers with one hand as she moves forward and grabs her phone with the other. you look down as she brings the front camera down to both of your lower bodies where the strap was connecting it. now keeping her bicep firm on your upper body, she snakes her hand down to your gushing pussy, spreading its puffy lips open with two fingers in front of the camera.
“would you look at that…” she murmurs, bringing the camera closer. “that pussy’s practically crying all over my cock. does he ever get you this wet, princess?”
“n-no…” you whine out, shaking your head. “he doesn’t…”
“oh, poor thing…” she murmurs from behind, reaching down to rub your throbbing clit. “seems like you need daddy to take care of you, yeah?”
“y-yes, daddy, please…n-need you to fuck me…”
abby gently lowers you back down onto your bed before setting her phone back to its original spot, screen still fixed on the both of you. she places a hand onto each of your hips, gripping them tightly as she begins to slowly thrust her cock into your pussy.
as abby began to fuck you, you were now buried into the sheets again, releasing muffled moans and whines with every thrust of abby’s hips. in that moment, your boyfriend, and all of the fights and encounters you’ve had with him were the last things on your mind. you didn’t care about him. you didn’t even care about the video, knowing that he’ll be watching it soon. all that was on your mind now was abby and the large piece of black silicone stretching you open.
“does that feel good, baby?” she asks, slowly speeding up her pace. “c’mon baby, why don’t you tell him how it feels?”
you muster up the energy to at least turn your head to the side to respond. “f-feels amazing, daddy…b-best cock i’ve ever had…” you slur back to her, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you fist the sheets tightly.
“you hear that?” she says into the camera. “it’s not even real, yet it’s the best cock she’s ever had…bet it’s bigger than whatever you have going on down there too…”
you continue to whine into the sheets, weakly pushing your hips back against abby’s cock as a sign for her to speed it up. “f-faster daddy…p-please…” you whine out to her.
abby looks back down to what was below her, that same smirk growing onto her freckled face once again. “would you look at that, she’s already so eager for more…” she murmurs to herself, tightening her grip onto your hips as she began to thrust into you faster than before.
“oh f-f-fuck—“ you moan out, turning your head back to see her and watching her smirk get bigger again as she admires your drunk, fucked out expression. “don’t look at me now…” she tells you before pointing at her phone. “look at the camera. look at him. tell him how good i’m fucking you.”
despite how heavy your eyelids were getting, you try to keep your vision straight, looking into the camera for as long as you could. “s-s-she’s fucking me s-so good…b-better than y-you…” you slur out into the camera before letting your head drop back down into the sheets.
“you hear that? i’m a better fuck to her than you’ll ever be.” she narrates to the camera, still continuing her fast thrusts inside you. “can’t believe you’re letting a girl beat you at your own game, man.”
it didn’t take long for that feeling to build up inside you. abby had only been fucking you for less than five minutes, and you were already about to cum now.
“a-abby, fuck—g-gonna cum n-now…” you whimper out to her, bringing a trembling hand to hold hers from behind. abby instantly swats your hand away and brings her hand down to your ass to slap it, the sting causing you to flinch a bit. “that’s not my name, princess. you wanna try that again?” she asks you, still not stopping her fast pace.
“fuck, daddy!” you exclaimed, tightening your grip on the sheets to stabilize yourself. “p-please daddy…n-need to cum so bad…”
“there we go, that sounds better now…” she replies, looking back to the camera before back down at you. “go ahead, babygirl…cum for daddy.”
your grip gets even tighter on the sheets, and your cunt begins to clench down hard on the strap before cumming with a loud muffled moan, completely coating abby’s black strap with your release.
“holy fuck…” abby groans out from behind, now slowing down her pace. without pulling out just yet, she leans over to grab her phone, stopping the video and flipping the camera to the back to record a new one. “would you look at that…” she murmurs, zooming in on your lower body, particularly on the white ring that was being formed on her strap.
she then points the camera to the very back of you where your pussy was before slowly pulling her strap out of your fucked out cunt. abby lets out another groan as she watches your pussy clench and spill out your thick release, quickly running two of her fingers over it to pick it up. you whimper and whine due to the sensitivity from her thick fingertips, but you still oblige and let her do it.
“look how fucking good this pussy looks…” abby murmurs to the camera. “you know, i heard her tell me that you refuse to eat her out…” she says, pausing for a moment to suck her fingers clean before continuing. “you’re definitely a fucking idiot, to say the least. who wouldn’t want to get a taste of this sweet girl?”
you hear abby stop the recording on her phone, letting out a breath of relief as you set the rest of your body back down onto the bed. you’re already fucked out as is, and you feel the slumber slowly starting to take over you.
however, you didn’t get to have much of it now that abby has shaken you awake again. “lie back on the bed, i’m not done with you just yet.”
“w-what?” you say weakly, fully blinking your eyes open. “i-isn’t that one enough already?” you ask, pointing to her phone.
abby shakes her head in response. “nope, we still have one more video to make…and you’re holding the camera this time.”
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you take the phone into your shaky hands, almost dropping it in the process before steadying it, abby's eyes practically burning through the camera lens as you angle your phone to film her between your legs, she slaps her hand against your folds and you whine out her name, "keep it fuckin’ steady, you hear me?"
your grip tightens on the phone and you try to keep it as steady as possible as she connects her warm mouth onto your clit, flicking her tongue up and down it a couple times, before drawing back and looking into the camera. "you see what you're missing out on, huh?" she tsks and shakes her head slightly. you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as she sinks back between your legs.
she presses her tongue to your sensitive folds as she messily kisses and licks at your pussy, groaning as she tastes you. her fingertips find your clit, rubbing circles over it as she slurps up your juices. the phone starts to slip from your grasp and abby shakes her head mockingly, slapping her hand straight down onto your pussy, fingertips smacking at your clit cruelly. "i'm not telling you again, keep that camera on me or imma keep slapping this pussy." she drawls, voice low and demanding as her gaze shifts from the camera lens to look straight into your half-lidded eyes. her stern tone has you nodding your head immediately in fear of another sharp slap.
her fingers start to slide into your entrance, slick squelching around them as she thrusts them in and out. her lips move up to suck at your swollen clit, with more purpose this time around as she feels you clenching around her fingers. "lemme hear you baby. c'mon, let it out. let him hear how good i'm making you feel." she whispers, thrusting her fingers in and out faster. she lifts her head and smirks up at you, clearly waiting for you to cum for her.
your back arches up into her and her free hand slides between your legs, roughly rubbing your wet folds as her tongue flutters over your clit, bringing you over the edge. your thighs tremble as they clamp around her blonde head which gives her no other option than to keep her head buried between your legs, sucking on your clit as you ride out your high and start to cum on her face.
her fingers continue to plunge in and out of you at practically record speed, fingertips curling against every inch of your g-spot and without warning, a stream of juices spurts from your pussy to soak her fingers and her face. she slides her fingers from your entrance, holding them up for you to see that they're covered in your juices, glistening in the light.
"look at the mess you made." she chuckles as she looks up and notices the look of absolute shock on your face as you realise what just happened.
"never done that before, huh?" she raises an eyebrow. "nuh uh." you pant out, feeling the need to pinch yourself as there is absolutely no way in hell she just made you squirt. "he's never made me do that....like ever." you giggle.
your head is still reeling as she lays you comfortably up against the pillows before she quickly fetches a washcloth from the en-suite bathroom. she returns less than a minute later, warm washcloth in hand, and starts to clean you up between your legs doting to your every need and want so soothingly, kissing at your thighs and stomach sporadically whilst doing so.
she eventually lends you one of her t-shirts to wear, gently holding your arms above your head, the soft material grazing against your skin. she climbs into bed beside you, the two of you bundled up under the thick sheets, snuggled up into her arms as your scroll through the footage taken on your phone. abby rubs her hand up your spine softly before pulling you tightly against her as she smirks at you, "gimme his number, i wanna send the footage to him."
you giggle and hand her your phone as she quickly copies down his phone number from your contacts into her own with a couple taps of her screen before opening up a text conversation with the new contact. she attaches the videos and starts to type out a message which reads:
"took care of your girl for you tonight...looks like she likes me better, don't you think?"
you shake your head and give her a little amused smile as you see the sheer look of smugness filling her flushed face, "that'll fuckin’ teach him." before pressing send and placing her phone face down on the bed in front of you.
it’s safe to say that thanks to abby’s bright idea, you were successfully able to give your boyfriend the vengeance that he deserved after all. as abby pulls you in closer to her chest, you get the feeling that this won’t be the last time you’ll do this with her.
and by the looks of it, you’ve found a new habit of your own to enjoy too.
2024 © atomicami & whore4abby | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of our works.
#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us 2#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson tlou#abby x reader smut#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby tlou#abby x you#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson x you#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson the last of us#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson x female reader#wlw#abby anderson fic#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us part 2#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us abby anderson#the last of us 2
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oh my god i was hoping u werent sick (no pun intended unless…) of all the doc rem requests!!!
can we get not just a regular doc rem but a casually dominant doc rem. like he’ll make sure ur drinking ur water, fixing ur posture by pulling your shoulders back gently, forcing u to put on a jacket if its just a tad 🤏🏻 bit cold outside
and ofc will scold u (lovingly) in the process. fem!reader is all like 🙄 but loves how much he cares about her
You're a genius for this lovely, thanks for requesting!
cw: alcohol
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 994 words
Your throat’s been bothering you since you woke up. It’s just a little scratchy, barely anything, but it feels like an ill omen. Still, you’re not going to bring your life to a halt on the slim chance the tickle in your throat is going to turn into something worse, and Remus would never hear the end of it if you skipped out on one of Sirius’ things anyway.
You probably should have abstained from drinking, though. You’ve only had one, but now your throat hurts worse, the music and chatter are too grating, and your head feels a tad fuzzier than it ought to. Sirius and Remus have gone from bickering about music to teaming up against James to bicker about films without your noticing, and now Lily’s offering you another drink and you have to ask her to repeat herself before declining. There’s an inconvenient ache blooming behind your eyes.
You know you’ve been sussed out when Remus wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. “Everything alright?”
“Mhm.” You leave it at that, leaning a back against his chest.
He hums. “Did you finish your water today?”
“Yeah.”
“What have you had to eat?”
You roll your eyes. Remus knows, somehow. He gives your hip a warning squeeze.
“Rem, I’m fine.”
“What have you eaten?”
You tell him, as if he wasn’t there for breakfast and didn’t pack your lunch himself. He nods, reassured you’d finished it all.
“You seem knackered for only having had one drink,” he observes.
You shrug. “I’m just not up to more tonight.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.
Remus hums, his grip adjusting just slightly to hold you more securely against him. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m just a bit tired.”
“Dove.” Your boyfriend has several tones you know well enough to pick up on a single word. This one is all too familiar. It’s mistrustful, admonishing, heavy with the weight of implied consequence. It says, I know you’re not being fully honest with me.
James may not pick up on all that, but he recognizes the shift in Remus’ attention, one of your boyfriend’s lengthy hands splaying protectively over your stomach. He sends you an amused look, which you return with a touch of loving pique, and then Remus is turning you around in his lap.
“Dove,” he says again, breath fanning over your face and eyes boring into yours and overall torturously close to you, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
You give up on denials, turning your eyes up to his pleadingly. “It’s really not bad,” you try.
Remus is unmoved. “Tell me, and I’ll say if it’s bad.”
“I don’t want to make it a thing.”
“You’re not. Go on.”
You sigh, squirming under the attention you can feel at your back. Remus’ friends have continued talking, but you know his behavior has caught their attention. “My throat’s just a bit sore,” you admit, “and I guess the alcohol must’ve made it worse.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, nodding for you to continue. “I feel a bit more affected than I usually would, so I decided to stop. That’s all.”
“Well, you don’t have a fever.” You release a tiny exhale, and Remus’ lips twitch. “How long has your throat been bothering you, sweetheart?”
You consider lying, but it’ll only make things worse. “Since this morning.”
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but your boyfriend’s stare beats that easily. “You ought to have told me,” he says in a low voice.
“It’s just a sore throat.” You roll your eyes. Remus makes a soft tsking sound that lets you know he’ll remember it.
“I have you talk to me about these things for a reason,” he says. “Do you know why that is?”
You’d really rather not enable him, but you’re trapped. You let your expression convey your reluctance. “Why?”
“Because I’d tell you,” he slips one hand beneath your top, thumb sweeping across your side in the way that softens you like butter, “not to drink when you’re coming down with something.”
“I don’t know if I am,” you say weakly.
“Hopefully not.” Remus smears a kiss across your forehead, reaching for his coat. “But if you are, we might still be able to avoid it if you let yourself rest. Y/N’s not feeling well,” he explains to Sirius when the other boy notices his preparations for departure. “I’m going to take her home.”
“Aw, I didn’t know you were sick,” James covers for his sour friend, who’s still looking like he might protest.
“I’m not,” you say, but Remus ushers you towards the door.
Lily gives you a kind look, glancing knowingly towards your boyfriend. “Feel better, love.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he placates his friends, placing his jacket over your shoulders. He opens the door for you, and seems all too prepared for the argument on the tip of your tongue when you step outside. “Don’t take off the jacket. You should have brought your own, but now that you’re sick I don’t want to risk weakening your immune system.”
“I’m not sick,” you insist, starting to shrug the jacket off despite his hands pinning it to you. “And it’s barely cold out here.”
Remus levels you with a look. “Keep it on.”
You huff but stop your attempts to remove the covering, trying not to notice how Remus has slowed his brisk pace to accommodate you. “Why did we have to leave?” you ask. “I’m not feeling that bad, really.”
“I figured you wouldn't want me looking down your throat with a flashlight in front of everyone.” You purse your lips, and Remus grins, wrapping an arm around you. He rubs your shoulder through the material of his jacket. “I’m looking out for you in more ways than one, dove,” he teases, “you can trust in that.”
#doctor!remus#doctor!remus lupin#doctor!remus x reader#remus lupin au#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders#the marauders#marauders x reader
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Seriously, the way we watch Arthur's whole world change from the very first second he comes into contact with Merlin is so. damn. cute.
There's no doubt why Arthur let him get away with outright "disrespectful" and borderline treasonous comments and behaviour the first time they met.
I mean, look at the way he instantly lit up at the concept of verbal and physical sparring with this elfin looking dude with the real "couldn't give a sh*t- try me" attitude. Someone who not only took on a knight of Camelot in mid training, but didn't change his attitude one little bit when he found out he was addressing the goddamn prince of Camelot, in fact he doubled down and got worse.
And Arthur loved the challenge, loved the defiance, loved the concept of spending more time with this guy, especially time spent doing something he loves - sparring. There's nothing Arthur loves more than a physical activity - we see it throughout all five seasons. Search the whole castle on a wild goose chase? Absolutely. Train 15 new knights in a single day? Sign him up. Ride out to battle a magical beast? He's already out the door.
And even though he knows (thinks) he can beat Merlin into submission in two moves, he's finally going up against someone who doesn't give a flying f*ck who he is and will square up to him and give his absolute best. And he hopes this will be a regular occurrence.
And the dismay when Uther declares Merlin to be Arthur's new servant isn't because he doesn't want Merlin around - it's because he's afraid it will change the relationship they've already begun to establish. That Merlin won't develop into the one person he can trust to be real with him, and instead he will become reserved and "yes-sir-no-sir-three-bags-full-sir" like every. other. damn. person.
And you can't miss the way his eyes absolutely light up that first time Merlin does his servant duties and continues being defiant, honest, real.
I love these characters so damn much, and I couldn't love Colin and Bradley more for how incredible they are.
#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#merlin#merlin x arthur#merthur#arthur pendragon#colin morgan#bradley james#merlin emrys#emrys#Ramblings of my current hyperfixation#Not that Merlin has ever left my hyperfixation#It just shares space with new hyperfixations
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AAAA ITS GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!
I love your characterization of Alastor sm ❤️❤️❤️
Could I request reader dropping dead things (people/body parts, deer, etc.) at his door/radio tower? No note, just corpses. He’s gotta figure out who tf if dropping these for him.
a/n: thank you, it's so good to be back!! i really appreciate you and everyone for being so welcoming :')) <3
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"You've been doing what?!"
"I didn't think it was so bad... You're the one who wanted me to make friends!"
Charlie only gawks at you, tugging at the ends of her hair in stress. The Princess of Hell paces back and forth across the room, slowly piecing together why Alastor has been in such a foul mood lately.
"So you thought the best way to make friends with the Radio Demon was to leave dead bodies at his doorstep?"
"He loves dead bodies."
"Yeah, to eat them! Oh god, what kind of message have you been sending to him?" She babbles on, exasperated and flinging her hands around in a panic. "He must think you're threatening him or something!"
"Well..." you make some sort of constipated expression and Charlie stops dead in her tracks. "He might not know they've been from me."
"You've been leaving them anonymously?" The Princess squeaks, unsure of whether that makes it infinitely better or infinitely worse. "What was even the point then?"
"I get nervous!" You argue, flopping back on the couch and laying an arm over your eyes. "I was going to tell him eventually."
Alastor was a different breed of terrifying. He could silence a room just by breathing in it. The wailing souls in his broadcast were enough to command that sort of attention.
When Charlie had given you the task of making friends as a part of her "redemption project" you had assumed he was exempt from the list. He was, after all, fairly secluded despite his cheery demeanour. Very few had ever managed to become his companions.
However, your hopes of avoiding him had been flushed down the drain when you accidentally bumped into each other on the way out on your very first day.
He gave you a look over, scrutinizing you from head to toe until your cheeks burned. Then, demanded something very simple of you:
"Welcome! Please, do entertain me."
His first and, as of today, last words he ever spoke to you. Sure, your methods were a little unorthodox, but you had asked Husk for advice and Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies were as much as the bartender was willing to spill.
When you don't receive any response, you peel your arm away to peer at your friend. She makes another two laps around the coffee table before her face lights up.
"I've got it!"
"I don't like that look on your face—"
"Come on," she laughs, pulling you by the wrists. "You just have to be honest. And make sure he knows you're not trying to kill him!"
"How am I supposed to do that?" You ask nervously. "You just told me he's been in a worse mood than usual."
A sinister smile that could only belong to the daughter of the devil creeps its way across her lips.
Dread. All you feel is terrible dread.
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As much as Alastor enjoys a good meal, this is becoming excessive.
It must be the seventh or eighth body this week. And, as usual, there is no note. No indication of why there's a corpse or a deer head or a rabbit's foot at his door. He can't even sniff out any traces of a soul being here.
He hates charity.
Not even because he does not need it, but because the anonymity is making him think they're gifts of pity. That, or it's a threat on his life. Either way, he loathes the idea that someone is looking down on him.
The demon needs to get to the bottom of this soon. Paranoia is not common for him, but the anxious bubbling in his chest is unmistakable. Whoever keeps leaving the bodies at his door is meticulously clean when they kill. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the blade.
Just as he's about to dump the body in his swamp for later, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He hesitates.
No, he isn't afraid of whoever is on the other side of the door. However, if there were a fight, he would need to get his suit tailored again and he simply doesn't have the time for that today.
He takes slightly too long to decide whether or not the person on the other side of the wall is a threat, because soon enough his ears pick up the sound of retreating footsteps.
Alastor swings the doors open so fast that you yelp.
At first he's confused why you refuse to turn around to look at him. Lacking common manners—he'll have to bring that up to you later. Then, he's confused on why you've shown up to his door at all.
"May I help you, dear?"
A chill creeps down your spine. Charlie and her ideas... they would be the death of you. Preferably today. Right now.
"I didn't mean to disturb you!" You stammer, still not looking at him.
Alastor raises a brow before popping up behind you from the shadows. You squeak, clutching somehing to your chest and shielding it from his gaze. He does a loop around your body and you spin around to keep the item hidden. The Radio Demon narrows his eyes.
"Are you hiding something?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
You do another spin as he tries to get a peek of what's in your hands.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He feigns offense. Again, another spin.
"Of course not!"
"You see, I very much don't enjoy being lied to. Last time I caught a scoundrel in my midst, I cracked them open like a—"
"Okay, okay!" You suddenly burst out. You turn so slow that Alastor feels himself holding his breath.
When he finally sees what you've been so insistent on hiding, he snickers. Impolitely, mind you.
"Don't laugh," you whine, squeezing the bouquet closer to your chest. Amongst the flowers are little pieces of death—fingers, eyes, ears.
Charlie had decided that one step back in your redemption by collecting body parts like this would result in three steps forward. She allowed it, just this once.
"Are these for me?" He purrs, leaning down until his face is in yours. You'd been warned before that Alastor had no concept of personal space, but you can't help the way it robs the air in your lungs.
"Please don't get the wrong idea," you strain in embarrassment. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving all those bodies here. I didn't mean for it to come across as insulting."
The demon blinks at you in stunned silence for a few moments before he cackles, standing back to let you breathe again. "Why, of course! No hard feelings, darling."
"Really?" You lighten up with a sigh of relief.
"Your little gifts have kept me on my toes," he assures. "Perhaps not my idea of entertainment, but the effort was there."
"I'm glad to hear that," you smile. "Charlie was worried you wouldn't accept my apology or want to be friends."
You seem to catch yourself, eyes going wide as you shake your head.
"N-Not that I'm assuming this means we can be friends!"
Alastor only laughs again, gentler this time. "No need to be so jumpy. I don't bite," he muses. "And tell the Princess she has nothing to worry about."
He takes the bouquet from you, hands lingering over yours for a fraction longer than he meant for them to.
"I would love to be your friend."
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee (send an ask to be added!)
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin x reader#alastor fic#alastor headcanons#alastor x you#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin
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141 when they find out reader has been crying:
(an earlier brain worm had me expanding this to all of them)
Price: He pulls you into his office and shuts the door. It barely closes before he turns on you, crossing his arms and looking down with his chin tucked against his chest. He rocks back on his heels once, twice, while he waits for you to spill.
You can only blink up at him, willing your tears not to fall while he's watching you so intently.
"What is it, sir?" You finally chance the use of your voice, but instantly regret it. Your miserable croak isn't hiding anything.
"I can't help you if you don't tell me why you've been crying." His tone is gruff, like sandpaper over rock salt, but his eyes soften imploringly.
For a minute, you want to tell him everything, but instead you just give in and cry harder. For a moment, he looks disappointed, but he simply pats you awkwardly on your shoulder and grabs a box of tissues from his desk drawer.
He motions to the sofa in the corner where you sob quietly for a half hour more while he finishes his paperwork. He doesn't know what's going on, but he's not going to let you do it alone.
Ghost: It doesn't matter where you hide, he finds you. The kitchen? He's in and out three times. Tea, a spoon for his tea, another tea. He crowds your space each time, no matter where you stand. Forcing you in circles as you try to keep your face averted.
For a silent man, he manages to make as much noise as possible to distract you to the point of almost asking him, "What the fuck, Simon?"
You finally move to a bathroom stall, but before long you hear the door open and two large boots stop just beyond the door. You know it's him by the size alone.
You hold your breath for a beat, and then two, so long that you wonder who is going to give in first. You know you've got about 3 minutes before you pass out. But just as you're about to stand up and face him, he turns and leaves without a word.
Exactly ten minutes later, he finds you in the rec room, dragging someone by the neck. It's not until Ghost kicks the man's knees out from under him, forcing him to kneel in front of you that you realize who it is. Some asshole from the other team who was giving you a hard time in training this morning.
With Ghost's knee pressed painfully between his shoulder blades, he grits out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!"
He's not the reason you're crying, but watching his face turn ten shades of purple does make you feel a little better.
Gaz: He keeps his distance and hates to see people cry because it always makes him cry, too. He doesn't know why. Movies, talk shows, commercials, they just get him right in the feels.
But every time you look up, his golden eyes meet yours, glistening with empathy. You simply shake your head at him and go about your day, until eventually, you get a text.
You mad at me?
-No, I'm fine.
You sure?
-Yep.
Fucking xxxx again, innit?
Of course he'd be the one to guess right. He paid the most attention, listened when you talked and remembered every detail. To be honest, he'd been the one you confided in the most for that reason.
He took your silence as a confirmation.
I hid some ice cream in the freezer. Unless Soap got to it first.
Soap: You head back to the kitchen again in search of the contraband ice cream, hoping it's the good mocha chip flavor you love, only to find Soap has beaten you to it. He innocently scoops out the last bite before seeing your face crumble and guiltily tosses it into the sink.
"Och, shit. Was that yours?"
"No, it's okay." Could this get any worse?
After dealing with these four, you just give up and slink back to your room.
"You know what you need?" He charges you before you can get any further.
"No, Johnny, don't!" Not one to listen, he pulls you up over his shoulder in one swoop and fireman carries you out to the gym.
"We're going to sweat it out, yeah? Always makes me feel better. Whether it's fighting or fucking is up to you."
You finally laugh at the absurdity of it, for the first time all day.
#call of duty#captain john price#141 x reader#task force 141#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#price x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#gaz x reader
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HII if your taking requests I would love a scoups image where him and reader are already dating but kuma likes her more that him and scoups gets a bit jelly thank you I love your work
number one
pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 596
warnings: an attack with love, being chased around, cheol being pouty, kkuma. my princess.
author note: AAA thank you so much anon <33 i appreciate the support so much 🫶 i hope you like this !!
masterlist
related to how to get to know a dog (and their owner)
seungcheol doesn’t know how this happened if he’s being honest.
yes, he did get to know you solely because of your interest in his family dog, kkuma, but he didn’t expect kkuma to love you as much as you loved her. in fact, kkuma warming up to you was a major accomplishment, all the way back when you first started dating. of course seungcheol’s glad; two important parts of his life being together is great! he can spend time with both of you at once and everyone’s happy.
however…he doesn’t understand why his dog goes to you first when the two of you enter the door of his family apartment. it can’t be because seungcheol goes to greet his mother first, giving her a side hug before entering the living room. his mother notices the sulky look on his face and cackles, calling your name. “look, cheol’s jealous of you because kkuma loves you more than him!”
you scratch behind the mentioned dog’s ears before joining in on the laughter—you stop when cheol’s pout grows infinitely worse, and he groans. “i never said that, ma! and you,” he looks at you sharply before pouting harder—somehow, that’s possible. “i love you but come on! we all know i’m number one in kkuma’s heart, so why are you trying to take my place?!”
you roll your eyes at his accusation, getting up to grab his hands, kkuma trailing behind you as if she owns the place—well, in a way she does, considering that the building is named after her. you grab your boyfriend’s hands before smiling sweetly. “my love.” cheol’s face warms at the nickname, and his mother groans about young love in the corner of the room. you continue, “kkuma just likes me better, and you have to deal with it! it’s not my fault i’m more interesting than you.”
you stick your tongue out at seungcheol, his mouth wide open before he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself. sensing danger, you back away from him slowly, almost tripping over kkuma. seungcheol calls your name eerily soft as his eyebrow twitches before he yells out your name and starts to chase you around the living room. cheol’s mother sighs at your childish antics as you run around her, using the light blue loveseat in the middle of the room to block your boyfriend.
“cheol, what—” you start before he lunges for you, grabbing you in a tight hug. seungcheol lets you go once you freeze in place, breathing heavily as he glares at you. “kkuma likes me better, okay? i promise you, i’ll always be her favourite, no matter how much she loves you!” he says as you giggle at him.
taking cheol’s hand in yours, you speak gently, not wanting to rile him up more. “sweetie, it’s not a competition, you know that, right?”
your boyfriend sighs before nodding, and pulling you into a hug once more—except this one is meant as an apology, and not to hold you down. kkuma barks up at the two of you, whining for more ear scratches and pets.
you grin mischievously at cheol before placing a kiss on his cheek. “you know…we can work together to give kkuma all the love she deserves, right?”
he looks back at you with the same expression on his face before giggling and poking your cheek. “we’re her parents after all, aren’t we?”
you nod at cheol seriously, choosing to ignore the offended scoff you hear from his mother, and bend down together to attack kkuma with as much love as possible.
#dokries works#moon answers!#anons !#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines#choi seungcheol scenarios#scoups x reader#scoups scenarios#scoups fluff#scoups imagines#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol x reader
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So It Goes || Wonwoo
Synopsis: Your acceptance of his rejection and attempt on moving on has been hurting Wonwoo to the bones, head and most significantly, his heart.
Word Count: 1.3k
Sequel to Say Don't Go and set in the Withering for You universe (can be read as a standalone drabble series).
Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, mention of fucking once, making out
Next Part : All Too Well
[ SVT Masterlist ][ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
"Take me with you, please."
Wonwoo double takes at you, finding it hard to believe that such words could come out of your mouth and not be directed at him.
You are grinning ear to ear, something you haven't done in a while.
"Are you sure because all I do is work.", Jihoon tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and says, "You'd eventually get bored of me."
"I can fill in for all the interesting things", you tell him coyly.
Seungcheol and his wife are expecting their first baby so the group decided to throw a party to the soon to be parents. The ambience is cozy, the lights are dim. Soothing music is filling in the space and after long and fun conversations all together, now you all are scattered in groups chatting the night away.
Jihoon is a new addition to the group, the prodigal musician who was initially bagged by Seungcheol's wife to manage the new branch of the academy founded by her and Seungkwan but ended up playing an important part in the reunion of Seungcheol and his wife and hence was adopted by the group instantly. Especially you, you've grown fond of Jihoon. Seems the same for him as well.
It's a pleasing atmosphere, everything is eye pleasing but also, such an eyesore to Wonwoo. Because though no one has asked him to be standing so close to you, he at his own will, is leaning against a wall adjacent to where you're seated across Jihoon who has now his hand placed atop yours. Wonwoo's teeth are sinking onto an empty cup, eyes sharp and hands fisted with all his attention spanned on you.
"You're making it so obvious."
Wonwoo turns his head to Seungcheol's whispering, the later grabs his arm and takes him away to a more secluded area. Seungcheol takes a quick jog to his wife asking her to call him if she needs anything, kisses her forehead softly and walks back to where his friend is standing.
"So what are you gonna about it?", Seungcheol asks.
Wonwoo doesn't meet his eyes, "About what?"
Seungcheol sighs, he understands where his friend is coming from and also feels guilty about his family painting this horrendous picture of the rich and powerful that has scared the person infront of him so much that he believes almost everyone is sick and twisted.
"Everyone in this room knows that you like Y/N.", Seungcheol says sadly patting his shoulder, "And not every family is sick like mine.", he smiles sweeping a quick glance at his wife, "But look we're back together, after everything, we're in love, we're gonna have a family soon. It's the best of anything I could have ever asked for."
To be honest, when Seungcheol got back together with his wife, it would given Wonwoo a hope, he could see the silver linings but he is still afraid.
"I have already rejected her and...", Wonwoo's gaze falls on you, a sad smile ghosting on his lips, "She looks happier with him, she's moving on."
You haven't looked at him once and he's unable to take his eyes off you tonight.
"You're mistaken.", Seungcheol says and hands him a filled cup, "You don't need to hold back everytime. Try living for yourself from now on."
It's not easy he thinks, not when his brother is lying unconscious, getting treated in the hospital, not when you belong to the family of chaebols, several heirs lining up to get married to you while he's just a secretary, who's still trying to meet ends.
Wonwoo doesn't hold back, he finds a seat at one of the tables and resorts to drinking which he has never done before as an obligation to himself to be the one to drive all others to safety, though never been asked.
"He's worse than her.", Mingyu tells Seungkwan.
"Shouldn't we stop him?", Chan asks, "He's drowning in his sorrows."
"Damn, Jihoon turned out to be such a great actor, even I'd have believed that there's something going on between Y/N and him, if I hadn't known.", Seungkwan mutters eyes going back and forth between the three of you, "It's funny knowing Jihoon has a motive to make Wonwoo jealous but sad knowing Y/N wants him to think she's moving on just not to be a burden to him anymore."
It's the dawn hours when Seungcheol who is as sober as day just so he could attend his wife anytime is begging everyone to dismiss the party insisting his wife needs to maintain her sleep schedule and rest well but she won't leave until everyone does.
"Okay, so my driver's coming , anyone wants to come with me?", Chan asks.
Seungkwan and Mingyu immediately tags along.
"Jihoon, Y/N what about you both?", Seungcheol asks.
"Take Jihoon with you both.", you say sighing, "I am not drunk, haven't had drinks."
"Okay, we are gonna take Wonwoo also--"
You cut off Seungcheol, "I'll take Wonwoo with me, don't worry."
No one objects, one by one they leave. You go to Wonwoo who hasn't sobered up a bit despite of the efforts of Mingyu from before.
"Come on, let's go.", you tell him, helping him to get up.
Drunk Wonwoo is chatty, his honeydew voice is eating off your ears as you struggle to put his big frame inside the car.
He's talking about how he keeps loosing the games nowadays because he lacks concentration. He talks about how happy he was when the doctors said that his brother can have a full recovery. He's spilling out random facts, cracking lame jokes and whatnot.
He's so cute, you think. You wanna record this version of him, wanna stop driving and give your full attention to him, to look at him. Because you know once he sobers up he's not gonna remember any of this, going back to his stoic self.
Seungcheol has texted you the passcode of his house and somehow you've ended on sheets under Wonwoo.
"Be here, with me", he mumbles, his soft breaths grazing your neck.
"Wonwoo, move", you huff trying to get him off you but fail one more time as his arms lock you in place.
He lifts his head to meet your gaze, removes the hair off your face and says, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So good at everything you do, have so many people admiring you.", he smiles through the slurry words, "You could have anyone, anyone would be willing to be with you but out of all people you choose me."
You go stiff when he rests his forehead against you. And your whole body gives up when he confesses, "I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that it hurts. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
After some moments of staring, your hands attempt to push him again, "You're just drunk, you don't mean anything you're saying. Please--"
The words remain stuck in your throat as Wonwoo kisses you. His lips move softly against yours, the aftertaste of alcohol in his mouth intoxication you as well, as you find yourself giving in, kissing him back.
He takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, deepening the kiss. You moan, gasping for breath, letting his tongue lick your whole mouth. Every ounce of rational thoughts leaves your body, just like the clothes those stay discarded on his bedroom floor.
Wonwoo is fast asleep beside you, hugging your naked body after fucking you hard because you surely wouldn't call it making love.
You slowly remove his hand and get up. After putting back your clothes on, you keep the medicine and water on the sidetable.
"You probably didn't mean for any of this to happen between us.", you whisper, trying to hold back the tears, "You won't even remember all of this."
You peck the side of his head and take your leave.
When Wonwoo wakes up later, he groans because of the killer headache but also sobers up straight, panicking when he finds no traces of you in the house.
→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️
#so it goes#wonwoo fic#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo x you#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo drabble#wonwoo oneshot#wonwoo fanfic#seventeen#svt#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen angst#seventeen au#seventeen scenario#svt imagines#svt x you#svt x reader#svt fanfic
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hey, how you doing? Could you make a bllk guys who have a breeding kink? I bet Isagi would have one 👀👀👀
Fallen by my own sword on those Isagi headcanons, huh? But yes, that freak would very much have a breeding kink, damn Isagi. Looking at my breeding kink guys list now, it's pretty much "men who need therapy" (on a bigger or smaller level)
bllk guys who have a breeding kink
isagi yoichi
This fucking freak - he loves it, loves it a little too much actually. I hope you like it too and that you actually want children, cause if you don't, well, Isagi sure wants them. He loves creampies just by themselves, really wants to cum inside only, but if you can have kids, that's double. The panty stealing fuck will claim he can tell your fertile days by smelling your underwear. This weirdo probably just been keeping track of your cycle in secret through more mundane means. So on your fertile days he will be doubling down on his efforts to keep you filled up with his cum.
For Isagi the kink is a mix of possessiveness and the wish to have a big family - to prove how perfect you are to each other. He had a good family, he will be a good dad, right? If you are in a relationship, this is only the natural outcome. He also won't shut up during sex, muttering all the time about how he is gonna make you look so good and swollen up with his babies. Will be trying to fuck you at any time during your fertile days, constantly saying it's time for a good breeding session, that you need to stay filled up to become his good pretty momma.
itoshi rin
Obsessed with family - for better or for worse. Wants to make you into his family, and just getting married ain't gonna cut it. The only way he can do it is by making you carry a part of him within yourself, and doing it once isn't gonna cut it. If his relationship with his brother didn't work out, then he is gonna have his own kids and they won't have this problem. He needs to prove he is better, that he will have a better family, more kids, better kids. Even this is a competition, and he is going to win.
He generally fucks like a desperate animal, and the day you let him do it raw, it's gonna be just a matter of time until he shows his breeding kink. It's strong, violent, animalistic, he needs to cum inside you like he needs air. If you have that kink too, then he is done for and he'll just give in. There won't be much talking during the sex, just grunting and growling as he fills you up again and again. Not the type to be keeping track of shit, he'll just be taking his pleasure and filling you up with his cum at any chance until either nature does it's thing or your period shows up.
alexis ness
Breeding as a form of devotion - or possession to be more honest. His yandere tendencies really show through here, he wants to breed you to feel that you are forever connected to him. Just painting your insides white isn't enough to mark you as his, he needs more, he nerds to make you have his children so you'll always a part of him attached to you. There is no bigger intimacy in his mind than carrying someone's child. Really, just the thought of you pregnant with his baby is enough to get him hard as a rock.
Probably won't have the guts to just show his kink straight up, he's gonna hide it for a while, pretend he isn't obsessed with the idea of breeding a child into you. But if you have a breeding kink and show your hand first he's gonna be overjoyed - tho, if you are only into it for the kink, he probably won't even think of that possibility. In his head, it's only a breeding kink if you can actually get pregnant. If you let him indulge, he will be fucking into you aggressively, begging you to take his baby, promising to be all sorts of nice and gentle while you are pregnant.
kunigami rensuke
A man with a love for his family - and not even wildcard could kill that, it just made that love a bit rougher. He's a tad more intense, more aggressive, more wild. He wanted to have a family with you and he still does, but now that reflects in an intense breeding kink. It's not about possession, it's about building his own family. About making you into a home for him, and for his seed, for his children. It's about showing how strong he is, that he will paint your insides white and give you a big strong baby.
If you have the same kink he will go crazy, wanting to prove that he can do what you desire. Even if you don't want kids right now, he will act as if you do, it's like training for the real thing. He can wait to have kids, with you wanting it the wait is worth, and he still gets to enjoy the fantasy while he fucks you hard. The mental image alone makes his blood boil. The thought of you big, glowing and vulnerable warms his heart, and he'd prove himself again by being there to care for you.
mikage reo
Wants to prove himself a good father - and there's nothing saying he can't enjoy the process of getting there. He's not the aggressive type in his breeding kink, but that's not to say it isn't intense. He can't look at you without the desire to fill you up with his cum, sometimes he'll catch himself randomly imagining what you'd look like big with his child. For him it's the biggest show of affection, to accept to carry someone's child, to out yourself in such a difficult and vulnerable position for someone you love. It's not just a big sexual fantasy for him, it's an emotional one too. He still is aware of the serious side of having kids, so for now, it's just a kink, but in the future he's going through with it.
He'll probably be worshipping the ground you stand in the minute you let him actually breed you. It isn't going to be rough, but it's going to be passionate. Reo will be pumping you full time and time again while praising you and whispering all his love in your ear. He'll keep track of your cycle to make the most of his chances, he'll still pump you full all the other days tho. But he really wants to get the best chance to breed you, so he can show his pregnant wife off as soon as possible - it's the little bit of possessiveness he has in that kink.
bonus: kaiser, karasu & shidou
Only engage in it as a kink - to the point where they will pay for your birth control. Kids are difficult, expensive and time consuming. He might want to have them at some point in the future, with a lot of planning, but he ain't risking it for a cheap thrill. He still finds the kink hot, tho, something about how primal it is really gets the blood pumping. He loves filling you up with his cum over and over again, whispering about how he is gonna plant his seed into you and make you his. Though, he just wants the fun, not the consequences.
#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#mikage reo x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#kunigami x reader#alexis ness x reader#itoshi rin x reader#karasu tabito x reader#michael kaiser x reader#ryusei shido x reader#shidou ryusei x reader
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hey hey, was wondering if you could do a headcannon for jason and dick when their s/o is sick cause im sick as hell rn and need some comfort <3
I hope you get better anon and I also hope that this gives you something to chuckle at in the meantime.
Jason:
He’s like a mother hen when your sick and it wouldn’t been funny…had you not been sick and forcibly bed bound by him.
‘Jason.’ You groaned. ‘I’m dying.’
Jason looks at you blankly. ‘Hi dying I’m Jason, now take your god damn medicine.’
He takes your recovery more seriously and makes sure that you take your medicine on time when they were needed. And if you were to make things difficult for yourself, he will straddle you if needs be just for you to take medicine that you were upset wasn’t grape flavoured…
Will tuck the blankets right under your chin if you’re feeling cold and if you were still feeling cold, he’ll offer you one of his warmer hoodies to wear in hopes that they’d stop.
He honestly can’t either you sometimes but has to remember that he loves you and that he’d stick by you no matter what, even if you do act like an outraged child when sick.
God sake do not ask him to get you ice cream when you’re sick, he will forbade you from eating that crap. You’re meant to be getting better, not worse.
He even makes you a nice warm soup amongst other foods to help you during your recovery process also.
Jason may seem strict in his methods in taking care of you but he means well and will apologise if he thinks he’s been a bit too much of a dick by sitting bedside and holding your hand, kissing it every so often.
‘I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being harsh chipmunk, I’m only trying to help.’ He’d say.
‘If you’re being sorry for being a dick, then it’s only fair that I say sorry for acting so childish when you’re only trying to help. And I really appreciate you for everything you’ve done for me.’ You’d reply as you both let out a chuckle before you allowed Jason to take care of you without any complaints to be made.
You get better by the end of the week and Jason spoils you by letting you have all the ice cream you could dream of, but please for his sake don’t eat it too fast and get brain freeze.
Dick:
Will let you eat ice cream because how can he say no to your sad, sick face.
Even when sick Dick spoils the hell out of you.
Does not make the situation any better in all honesty.
He’ll probably take more offence that you were sick than yourself as he takes your temperature and tutting.
‘38°?’ Dick says as he looks down at the thermometer and muttering under his breath, ‘Not good.’
You only look at him blankly before sniffling as you cling to your plush frog, unamused. ‘I hate you.’
He’d might even get Hayley to help ‘heal’ you by just letter her be her cutest self and not currently crushing your legs, seeing as how she’s not a little blue pup anymore. she’s yours and Dick’s baby however and you didn’t care because seeing her try to nurse you back to health with her licking never failed to put a smile on your face.
‘Thank you sweetheart Im beginning to feel much better.’ You say as Hayley continued aggressively licking your arms, hands and face.
If you were to tell dick you were cold/still cold, his immediate response was the cuddle you but when you stop him to remind him that your sick, he only shrugs and probably boasts that he’s got great immunity before cuddling you. (Lies utter lies)
Let’s be honest he probably ends up getting sick after you start to recover and demands for you to repay him for taking care of you.
dick is okay at making food but might mutter ‘this isn’t the way it looked when Alfred made it’ under his breath while making you some simple soup before consulting Hayley, who only whimpers and shies away from it.
‘Take out it is then.’ He’d say and tries to take credit for it once it comes, but you see through the bullshit but we’re too sick to say anything about it.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#nightwing x y/n#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader
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Hi I love your writing!! Not sure if you take requests so please ignore this if you don’t!! What if Sam and reader were dating and then reader finds out about Sam/Penny liking each other in the past so they get kinda insecure and Sam reassures them
nsjhdwj thank you so, so much! <3
It really means the world to me to hear it! :) Thank you so much for your request as well, it was absolutely LOVELY to write. I hope you will enjoy it! Have a lovely day, dear anon~ <3
(Needless to say, I do take requests >:))
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader
ᴡᴄ: 1889 words
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lil jealousy, a lil insecurity. it is mostly fluff, though. gentle kisses and all~
☾ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀꜱ ☽
The relationship between Sam and you had begun to blossom in the fall of your first year in Pelican Town. It had all started out quite simple; playing pool with the blond and Sebastian in the saloon turned into hanging out and playing video games together. Taking turns trying hard levels bled into fleeting touches and looking at one another longer than necessarily needed; until it all ended in a chaste kiss behind near the river. It hadn’t taken Sam much longer to show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, asking you to officially be with him.
Ever since, your relationship had grown like the crops on your fields – filling your heart with a deep, comfortable feeling of contentment and calm, something no one ever had managed up until the town. However, whenever Sam walked up to you, looking at you with these deep blue eyes filled with excitement and genuine happiness and smiling at you as if you were the first warm day in spring, you felt like you were at the right place, at the right time.
However, there was gossip in town. Little whispers, really, nothing you wouldn’t have expected living in a sleepy community like this. The gossip here was nothing more than a fleeting thought that was spoken out; here one moment, gone the next.
You had always promised yourself to not let these whispers stick to you, to just smile and forget about it. And so far you had done well; the most attention you had spent on anything that wasn’t rock solid was wondering how someone would come up with something like that.
In all seriousness, you just didn’t care for it. It rolled off your back like droplets of rain rolled off your raincoat.
You didn’t think a simple visit to Pierre’s would change that. You were standing in front of one of the shelves in the far back, looking at the different seasonal seeds in stock, considering trying out something new on the fields when you heard Marnie’s voice. It was hushed as it usually was when she was gossiping. Any other day, you would have just turned back to the bags in your hand, but today, you heard your boyfriend’s name. Much to your shame, your ears perked up almost immediately, and even worse, you actually tilted your head a little to catch what Marnie was saying.
“Yes, I am surprised he didn’t end up with Ms. Penny. The crushes they had were quite obvious, even my nephew picked up on it,” she hummed.
Another voice now answered with a hum, but when they talked, you were able to identify it as Mayor Lewis’s. “Even my old eyes picked up on it! I saw them at the bridge often, and I always thought Ms. Penny just waited for him to make the first move and she would have been all his.”
Your heart sank. Sam had had a crush on Penny? You furrowed your brows as you thought back, trying to remember if you ever had picked up on anything like that. Then it hit you – they had often hung out by the bridge together, and if you were honest, you had always felt a weird tension sizzle in the air between them.
Marnie again: “It is quite a shame, really. Jas told me that Ms. Penny looks a little sad when they pick up little Vincent. I think they would have made a good couple; she could have taught him a lot, I bet.”
“And maybe he would have helped her to get out of her shell a little. I thought they were a good match as well.”
You couldn’t take any more. You stepped out from between the shelves and almost ran to the till, slamming the bags onto the counter. “Just these, please,” you smiled at Pierre, loud enough for the hushed whispers behind you to stop.
“Thanks,” you murmured after you had been rung up, fleeing the general store without as much as a look in the two chatterboxes’ direction.
You had genuinely wanted to let go of what you had heard today. After all, Sam was with you now, and he seemed genuinely happy with you. Even now in his sleep, he was looking peaceful and content; his arm stretched out towards you as usual. Whenever you and Sam slept together, he had to touch you in some way. You didn’t mind that, in fact, it usually calmed you and lulled you into a deep slumber. Tonight, it didn’t help.
You had started thinking as soon as your conversation with Sam had faded as his breathing had grown heavier; a clear sign that he was drifting off to sleep.
Had you gotten in the middle of something between Sam and Penny?
Would he maybe be better off dating her?
Would he be happier with her?
Why did he choose to be with you when there seemingly was a spark, big enough for others to notice?
Penny, in all honesty, was not only a beautiful human but had an incredible personality at that. She was a catch, no doubt. Maybe you had ruined the best relationship Sam could have ever had, because what could you offer? You were a farmer, nothing more, nothing less. Doing work many considered as nothing but simple and dirty. Whereas Penny was always clean and well-kempt: being noble enough to try and give the town’s kids the best possible education. Trying to give your boyfriend’s little brother the best possible chances, for crying out loud!
Holy shit, you had probably ruined Sam’s life, what did he even see in you?
“Babe?” a groggy voice next to you asked, making you tense up. You had been so lost in your whirlwind of thoughts that you hadn’t even realized how much you had been tossing and turning. You tried to stay still, even out your breathing. Maybe he would just go back to sleep.
But you knew Sam better than that. And just as you had expected, two strong arms slowly snaked around you, pulling you into a warm chest. Sam’s hand found your hair, long fingers running through it just mere moments later. Sam knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself, and he knew what to do when you were nervous. And even now in your state of inner turmoil it helped; you relaxed into his arms, and for a split second, your head was quiet.
“What’s wrong, baby? Bad dream?”
That was your chance. If you said yes now, he would probably cuddle you, caressing your hair until you fell asleep. Sleep sounded nice right about now.
“Did I ruin your chances with Penny? Would you rather be with her?”
The caressing stopped, and you could feel the mattress behind you shift. Was he leaving now?
The light switched on, and before you could say something else, you saw Sam’s face hover right over yours. His rough hand was placed on your cheek now, thumb caressing the skin gently as he peered into your eyes. All sleep had vanished now, replaced by honest concern and confusion.
“Why would you think something like that?”
You bit around on your lower lip, looking away in embarrassment. “I heard Marnie and Lewis talk at Pierre’s today…They…they talked about the crush you had on Penny and the crush she had on you and how you would be a great match and how she is sad when she picks up Vincent now and-“
Noting how stupid you sounded, you stopped yourself, taking in a deep breath and not being able to stop yourself, “and it had me wondering, because I saw you hang out as well and Penny is so beautiful and kind and noble and she would have a good influence on you! And what am I, just a farmer, you have seen me in dirty clothes more often than in clean ones and-“
You looked at Sam helplessly, tears in the corner of your eyes. “And I just…Why did you choose me when you could have had her, Sam? Why didn’t you choose her? You could have…I…” The blond looked at you, patiently waiting for you to finish speaking.
Only when your stream of words had seemingly ceased did he lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Because Penny isn’t you, my love,” he murmured against the plush of your lips, looking into your eyes. His thumb was still caressing your cheek, allowing his other hand to lock together with yours.
“Yes, Penny is a good-hearted woman, and yes, I might have had a crush on her. But you touched my heart in a way no one ever has. I fell in love with you, and I mean all of you. Your eyes; the way they light up when you’re proud or happy. The way you smile and the many different smiles you have. I love every single one. I love that you get dirty every day while doing what you love. I love that you give it your all every day.”
Sam kissed your nose carefully, his eyes peering into yours again.
“I love how careful you are with everything, especially with things that are dear to you. Yoba, I love the way your breathing sounds when you are next to me, I love the way you ramble to yourself when you are working on something and think no one can hear you. I love the random sounds you make. I love seeing you. I love being around you. I love you being mine. I love you.”
Sam kissed your lips again, holding onto your face. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hiding your face in his chest. The blond laid back down, carefully pulling you on top of him. He drew random patterns onto your back; mostly hearts and clouds and little stars.
“I remember the first actual date we went on. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so close to just throwing up. Sebastian kept teasing me, asking me why I was nervous, I had been to the beach so often…” he kissed your head again, holding you a little tighter to his chest. “And then I saw you there. All bundled up in your winter clothes, and I asked myself why I had been so stupid to suggest a date on the beach in winter. But when you smiled at me…Shit, that was the moment I just knew that you were my one and only. And I wouldn’t want to live a life in which you weren’t.”
You sniffled a little, but smiled a little as you thought back to the date. You had, in fact, asked yourself why Sam would want to meet up at the beach in winter, but you could have never allowed yourself to pass up the opportunity.
You closed your eyes; taking in your boyfriend’s scent. He smelled like cotton and a hint of vanilla. Honestly, you found he smelled like home.
You could feel Marnie’s and Lewis’s voices quieten down, as did your worries.
Sam could feel you relax in your arms and slowly lifted your chin with two fingers.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
“And tomorrow I will skate on the Mayor’s property.”
“No, Sam."
#sdv#stardew valley fanfic#stardew valley#stardew valley farmer#sdv fanfic#sdv sam#fanfic#sdv sam x reader#stardew valley x reader#SDV#SDV Sam#SDV Sam x reader#Stardew Valley Sam#fluff#fluffy Sam
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𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 — x. thorpe
XAVIER THORPE x f!reader
⌗︙・ summary — xavier’s into you. like into into you. but unfortunately, you aren’t quite on the same page.
contains — miscommunication, slight slight angst, fluff ending, pining from both ends... just dumb idiots unknowingly in love with each other <3
notes — i am so obsessed with this man and this gif you don't understand. also, requests are open!
You’re tired.
It’s been an exhausting past few weeks; Between helping Wednesday with her investigations, worrying about being a victim of untimely death yourself, and on top of all that, keeping up with your academics, you’ve hardly had the time to even so much as think about Rave’N.
“Wait, what do you mean you don’t have a date?!”
You shrug at Enid, who gapes at you in askance. “I just don’t. Really, Enid, it’s not that big of a deal.”
It’s a Saturday, and you, Wednesday, Enid, and Xavier are seated on a grassy patch - A brief respite from the flurry of school.
“I mean, it’s only one of the most important social events of like, the century!” Enid exclaims.
From beside you, Xavier snorts. “C’mon, Enid, it’s not that big of a deal.”
He turns to you now, eyebrows raised. “Though i am surprised that no one’s asked you out yet.”
Unbeknownst to you, satisfaction bubbles in the long haired boy’s heart. It's not that he’s happy nobody has asked you to the dance - It’s just that it means he still can.
But your nonchalant reply sends his heart racing. “I never said I didn’t get asked out. I just said no.”
Shit. Xavier frowns, avoiding your gaze. So people have asked you out. Of course, what was he thinking? You’re only the most beautiful girl in Nevermore. How could he even delude himself into thinking you didn’t have boys falling at your feet?
Of course, you’d turn him down too. Why wouldn’t you? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re gorgeous… and him? Well, he’s just there. By your side.
Your best friend.
What would happen if you said no to him, like all those other guys? There’s no way your friendship could recover from that, no, not at all.
The only thing worse than not being your boyfriend was not being your friend at all.
“-I mean, I don’t… I don’t even know what to say!”
Xavier blinks, snapping out of his daze. He sees Enid shaking her head, at an utter loss for words as she says, “You turned down… all those guys? Why?!”
All you do is shrug, and Xavier swears you glance his way before replying, “I guess… I guess I’m just waiting for the right guy to ask.”
You don’t see Xavier much after that.
If you’re being honest, you're a little disappointed. It’s only five days to Rave’N, and you still don’t have a date. Not that it matters much; After all, you’re perfectly content going on your own. It’s just…
Well, you were hoping a certain long haired artist would ask you to accompany him. But you’re quickly realising that that wish was going to stay that way - Just a wish.
A hopeless, desperate wish.
You curse under your breath as you leave yet another class without speaking to Xavier. It’s almost as if he’s been intentionally avoiding you, though for what reason, you haven’t the faintest clue.
Did you do something wrong? Was it something you said? Something you wore?
Come to think of it, he’s been distant ever since Saturday. Saturday. What happened on Saturday? God, all you can remember is that picnic with Enid and Wednesday, talking about the Rave’N, and… and…
God, what is it?!
You have half a mind to walk over to his dorm and demand for him to open up, but what good would that do? Xavier’s made it abundantly clear that he has no interest in conversing with you, so why should you be the one putting in all the effort when he-
“Y/N!”
Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.
You turn, forcing an unimpressed look on your face despite the fact that your heart is beating a mile per minute.
To your surprise, Xavier looks nervous. Perhaps the most nervous you’ve ever see him - You don’t even think he was this anxious at the Poe Cup. He’s holding something behind his back, you note. Something pink. And green.
You eye him warily. “Xavier, what is it?”
He walks up to you, hands still clasped firmly behind him. “Look, I… Fuck, this is harder than I thought it was gonna be-”
You feel a sinking pit of dread in your stomach. Your head spins, and your voice cracks as you stutter, “Xavier, are you… Are you friendship breaking up with me right now?”
His eyes widen, almost comically so, and he’s frantically shaking his head. “What?! No, no, of course not!”
He tugs his hand through his hair haphazardly, one hand letting go of whatever he’s holding. You must be dreaming, because you think you see a pink petal float to the ground.
…Flowers?
You don’t mean for your voice to be so wobbly, but it is, as you say, “Xavier, I don’t… I don’t understand. You ignore me for days - No texts, no calls, nothing. You wouldn’t even look at me in the hallways! And now all of a sudden, you’re here… with flowers?”
He blinks, glancing down to the small pile of petals that have fallen off, and groans.
“Fuck,” he mutters lowly. “God, this is not how it was supposed to go-”
“hHw was what supposed to go?” you ask, perplexed.
“God, I knew this wasn’t a good idea, I knew it, I-”
“Xavier!” you exclaim, your heart lurching in confusion and exasperation and everything in between. “What is going on?!”
“I like you!”
And everything stops.
“I like you, Y/N, I like you so much it… it hurts, okay? And I wanted to ask you to the Rave’N with me, that’s what all these… The flowers, this whole thing was about. I just couldn’t stand being around you and knowing that you don’t have a date to the Rave’N ‘cause it - shit - it drove me crazy. But it was stupid, I get it, it was stupid of me to do this, and I understand if you wanna pretend like this never happened, but I just need you to know that I love y-!”
Your lips are on him before he can even finish his sentence. It feels like everything’s on fire; His hands are on your hips, and then they're moving around your waist, and you’re being lifted off your tiptoes, and he’s kissing you back, and it’s-
Xavier is breathing hard when you break away, his face flushed.
You smile, and he bites his lip, looking at you bashfully. “So... Is that a yes?”
You laugh, nodding as you thread your fingers in his. You blush when he raises your linked hands to press a kiss your knuckles.
“Yes, Xavier,” you mumble out, feeling him smile in between kisses. “A thousand times, yes.”
#xavier thorpe x reader#xavier thorpe#xavier wednesday x reader#percy hynes white#percy hynes white x reader#wednesday fanfic#xavier thorpe x y/n#xavier wednesday#xavier x you#xavier thorpe x you#˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing#꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🍰] miscellaneous
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