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#lots of cigars were lost
turannoktonos · 1 year
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Aka...the aftermath :)
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faetreides · 2 months
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MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER
cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you
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summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader
wc: 8.4k
cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.
requests are open (read the rules first)
block & move on if uncomfortable
do not repost or translate!!
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The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 
"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."
"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"
Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 
Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 
There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 
His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 
His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 
SHIT! 
It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 
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That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 
They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 
"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"
Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 
Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 
The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 
He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."
He thinks you'd do even better. 
By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 
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He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 
"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."
Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"
"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 
Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 
He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 
"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."
You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 
"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 
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Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 
"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 
You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 
Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 
The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.
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They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 
The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 
The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 
Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 
"What's this, buddy?"
"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 
Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.
"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 
“And we can get something for my teacher?”
“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”
"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 
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The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 
Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.
The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 
Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 
Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 
The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 
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He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.
“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 
The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 
With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 
Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 
His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 
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His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 
He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 
His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 
3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 
Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 
A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 
An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 
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You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.
Thank god for oral fixations. 
“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 
He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 
Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.
The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 
“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 
Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 
He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 
And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 
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The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 
He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.
The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 
Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 
Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 
Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 
He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 
Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 
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Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 
“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”
 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 
Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 
Fuck, not again. 
He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 
He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 
"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."
Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.
"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 
Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 
Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 
Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 
They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.
Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 
He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 
Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 
The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 
The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  
A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 
"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 
The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.
Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.
But that could wait. 
The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 
Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.
 Some say that means it’s love. 
You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”
“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”
You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 
He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 
“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 
The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 
If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 
Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 
“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 
“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 
He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 
The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others
By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 
At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.
Whatever that meant. 
The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 
Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 
Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 
Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 
“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 
In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  
You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.
“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 
“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 
Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”
“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 
You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 
Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 
Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 
Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 
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The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.
 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 
You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 
There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 
The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 
The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 
You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 
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Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 
The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 
The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 
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a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞
530 notes · View notes
strlingsav · 1 year
Note
hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*
Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀
Always
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.
Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
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It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.
It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.
You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".
It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.
Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.
Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.
"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.
"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"
"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.
"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."
"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."
"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.
You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.
"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."
His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.
"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.
You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.
"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."
"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."
You grinned.
Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."
You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.
Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.
"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."
You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.
"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."
You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.
"Here," He handed you the second.
You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.
He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.
It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.
Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.
You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.
You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.
You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.
It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.
It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.
"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.
You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.
"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.
"Fuck off, Johnny."
"You're a mean drunk, kid."
"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."
Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.
"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.
"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.
You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.
You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.
"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."
"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.
"Bullshit," You grinned.
He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.
"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.
"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.
"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.
"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."
You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.
"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."
"Not when you're pissed," He commented.
You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.
"You're pissed," He nodded.
"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."
"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.
"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."
He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"
"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.
He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.
"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.
"It's nothin'." He looked amused.
"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.
"Far from it."
You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.
"I've never seen that side of you."
"No reason to."
"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."
Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.
"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.
He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.
He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.
"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.
He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.
"Think you've had enough for the night."
He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.
"Maybe," You nodded.
Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.
"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."
You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.
You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.
Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.
You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.
You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.
"I'm over there," You pointed.
"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."
You frowned, "Fair point."
As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.
Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.
You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.
"Here," He said, holding them out to you.
"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.
He nodded.
You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.
"Thank you."
"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.
You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.
His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.
"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.
You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.
"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."
He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.
"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.
He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."
"Why not?" You asked.
"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."
"Stop thinking for once," You teased.
He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.
"If only," He replied.
"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.
You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.
"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.
You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.
"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."
"You're my responsibility."
Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?
"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."
"For you, yeah."
Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.
You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.
"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."
"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.
"Why?"
He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.
"Think you know."
He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.
"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.
His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."
You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.
You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.
"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.
He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.
His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.
You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.
"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.
You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.
He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.
He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.
He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.
In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.
He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.
"Y'look good in my shirt."
A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.
You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.
You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.
You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.
"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.
Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.
"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.
He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.
He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.
His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.
"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.
"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."
You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.
It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.
"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."
"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.
His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.
"God, Simon."
"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.
You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.
You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.
He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.
You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.
"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."
Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.
He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.
"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."
"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.
His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.
"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."
"Simon," You whispered.
His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.
"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.
"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."
"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.
"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."
You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.
He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.
He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.
"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."
Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.
He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.
"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.
He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."
2K notes · View notes
aimbutmiss · 27 days
Text
It didn't take Mihawk long to catch up to whatever was going on between Shanks and Buggy.
And no, it wasn't because he used to listen to Shanks sob about the clown at dirty bars on random nights back in the day. His previous knowledge of their relationship was not needed with how obvious the red head was being at the moment.
Shanks watched Buggy's every move, listened to his every word as if they were sacred—as if he'd be punished by God if he missed a single thing.
His eyes moved down, to the red lips.
He licked his own in hunger.
He looked away, biting his lips.
So, Mihawk was no genius, but you didn't need to be one to see the desperate need and want in the man's every move.
Buggy saw it too, he was certain—but he ignored it like his life depended on it. He went out of his way to act like everything was normal between them, as much as he could. But the clown's phenomenal act had its limits too. You could see it crack in the way his breath hitched when their eyes accidentally locked, or when their knees bumped under the table. The recovery was fast after those single seconds, but Mihawk's eyes were faster. He watched, he saw, he knew.
The meeting was (thankfully) over, and Buggy was the first one to rush away despite Shanks' proposal to share a drink, leaving them behind. The man in front of him was clearly down in the dumps, but Mihawk had no intention of consoling him. He had done that on many nights in their youth with nothing in return, so he had learned his lesson the hard way. It was better to let the man drink away his worries on his own, as he usually did.
He was more worried about Crocodile, who had looked on the verge of killing Red Hair the entirety of the meeting. And even now, after everything was over, he was still fuming in the seat beside his. The two men didn't like each other, that was another obvious take away from the night. This meeting was a stupid idea from the beginning—Mihawk was surprised Crocodile agreed in the first place. Maybe it was curiosity that pushed him towards that decision, maybe something else—the man was certainly harder to read than the other two. But now, on his cigar number-God-knows-what, Crocodile probably regretted that decision.
He gently laid a hand on the man's thigh in reassurance, shifting his focus away from Shanks. "We should go home now. Let's not keep Buggy waiting."
Crocodile slowly came to his senses, calming down. He put out his cigar with a smirk, staring at Shanks head on. "You're right." He wasn't acknowledging what Mihawk said, but what he meant. No matter what the red head did it was them who got to go home to Buggy, not him. The frustration was unnecessary.
"It's always nice seeing you, Red Hair." Not necessarily a lie, but said to console Shanks nonetheless. He ended up doing it again... He still did have a soft spot for the sad man after all. With that, Mihawk got up to leave and walked side by side with his "business partner" to where Buggy was waiting for them. He was probably gonna be a lot more silent than usual, lost in his thoughts of the past, but that was okay. He wasn't alone— Mihawk would make sure of that. Because, unlike with Shanks, when he consoled the clown he actually got love in return. It felt nice, being loved after loving your whole life. He was glad he met Buggy, and ended up where they are somehow.
Mihawk was a man who didn't like leaving things to luck, but when it came to this—to them, he was grateful for it.
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zolawffy · 1 year
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Calling them out their name!
Ft. Zoro, Law, Crocodile, Doffy, Sanji, luffy.
Zoro
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Zoro was literally minding his business and training. He was clearly trying to focus. But you decided to go bother him, the usual.
“Zozo!!” You call out to him. He sighed in annoyance because he heard you coming. However, he couldn’t stay mad because he hasn’t seen your pretty face all day. He took a long glance at the beauty before him before continuing his training.
“Hey.” He said positioning all 3 of his swords. You knew he was serious because he had his bandanna on.
“I’m bored we should go out today before its too late..” you say eyeing him. He still didn’t even look your way. So you got a little upset. He just ignored you.
“Zo.” You said firmly.
“What is it Dammit, I’m a little busy here woman.” He said lifting the dumbbells off of his swords. You decided to do something very crazy to get his attention.
“Why you gotta be a bitch all the time?” You said resting your head against your hand. Oh girl you thought he didn’t hear that? You heard the dumbbells drop and his swords did too.
That mf was caught ALLLLLL THE WAYYYY off guard. You seen a vein or two pop through his forehead. He was mumbling and cursing under his breath, he was mad as hell. He took his weights and trained elsewhere.
poor zo.. 💔 dont worry you guys made up.
Law
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Law was just sitting down on the couch. Earlier, he’d act like it was such a task to swap places with the pile of clothes, making it easier to get the clothes into the correct room.
You were mad at him because you had to do it all by yourself. However, you weren’t that mad when you developed one of your silly plans in your head.
You never called Law out his name before. But the way he’s looking at you while acting lazy, had you on boiling point.
“You’re a bitch sometimes, law.” You said before his eyes shot open. He was appalled too. He rarely ever heard that word come out of your mouth anyway.
“M’ sorry mama.. you don’t have to call me names. I’ll make it up to you.” He said motioning to the cushion beside him.
Law was too sweet and too chill to actually react badly. He doesn’t like that you called him a bitch but he understands why you did it. Though it wasn’t right. He still love you thoughh.
Crocodile
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Ma’am i think you’ve lost your mind.. 🧠 here ya go.
Crocodile was sitting in his office working away, the usual. And it was toooo quiet. He looked at his watch snd calculated that you should be walking in any minute now.
That’s when you came into his office.
“There you are, Sweet girl..” he said signing his papers.
“Hi croc. You said you’d take me shopping today.” You smiled as you leaned onto his desk. Your favorite store had new clothes come in and you heard its selling fast. So croc promised to take you there.
“Did i now?” He said signing away. You started to pout and doubt he was even listening to you. Which he wasn’t. You sighed aloud.
“Yes and the clothes are gonna sell out before we get there.” You said pouting.
“Cheer up sweetheart. My work ran a bit overtime today. I still have a lot to d—“
“You Dick head! You’re a liar too.”
He laughed then removed his cigar and blew his smoke. “Is that what i am, sweet girl? Sweet girls don’t use that language.” He said firmly.
You were mad. So so mad. So you decided to keep going.
“Ughh you stupid fucker—!” You yelled at him. But he just stared at you. He didn’t laugh this time.. i think you done it.
“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble, girl.” He stood up.
Lets just sayyy you wont call him out of his name again and he madd sure of it.. you gonna need a wheelchair maam, take one and go. 🦽🦽🦽
Doflamingo
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Listen here ma’am, NOT A GOOD IDEA!!!
You were talking to your friend, (one of doffy’s servants) and you both were talking about Doffy.
Doffy was sitting at the stool at the kitchen island reading a newspaper about himself. So he wasn’t paying attention to you guys.
“He can be a bit ruthless sometimes, i dont know hoe you do it..” she said looking at you with sympathy.
“I mean yeah you’re right he is a bitch sometimes.” You shrugged. You heard a grunt and you turned towards him.
“Oh really.”
“Yes really and you know that.”
“Have you forgotten respect already, darling?” He said getting to eye level with you.
Yeaaah that night you definitely got a little punishment. And yes he did use his strings.. i got a lil lazy for this one but i might add moree.
Sanji
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Sanji is too precious to do anything to hurt you. However if you called him out his name, he would feel like he did something horrible.
So he would make you a variety of foods, lights some candles, give you a bath, massage you, PAINT YOUR TOES, AND GIVE YOU SOME WINEEEEE. and maybe even some fun time after. Just to make up for his guilt.
Luffy
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Luffy— of course he did something. He’s always doing some.
He ate ALL YOUR DAMN FOOD THAT YOU WERE SAVING!! what more do you have to do.. you wrote your name on the box and he still doesn’t listen.
He ate all the food and you called him s bitch. He just laughed and said the food was good. Poor luf luf doesn’t care or doesn’t know what it means.
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ateliersss · 6 months
Text
Not Your Fault
Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader Summary: When you and your captain, John Price, share your usual drink at night, the alcohol loosens your tongue a little too much... Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Past Sexual Abuse, Past Rape, Grooming, English isn't my first language Word Count: 4.217
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"You were how old?" Price asked slowly, each word separately stressed, believing he hadn't heared you correctly the first time.
It was one of those evenings when you would go to your Captain's office, John Price, to share a whiskey that was secretly stashed away in his desk. Sometimes it was one glass, sometimes two, but today it had been so many that it had loosened your tongue.
"Twelve."
The following silence in the room was eerie.
He had just shared the quite embarrassing story of how he had lost his virginity. It was all laughs and smiles until you had told yours in return. Suddenly John had looked at you in a mixture of shock and fury, but only the shock was directed at you.
"And how old was he?" John asked carefully, already expecting the answer to sky-rock his blood pressure.
"Fourty-one."
"And you were... twelve." He said in a long exhale.
"It's... It's not a big deal. It happened a long time ago." You said, trying to shrug it off in an nonchalant way, but the crack in your voice betrayed the true nature of your feelings.
"It is a big deal, hun, a very big deal. You were a child." His voice shook with poorly concealed rage.
The alcohol had made you lightheaded, the words flowing from your lips before you could stop them. "He told me he wanted to teach me how to be a woman. Said I would need to start early if I ever want a boyfriend."
You sat in the corner of the couch in your Captain's office, the back and arm rest on either side of you. Your head leant to the side so that it was resting on the backrest. Price was in the other corner across from you, holding his cigar in a death grip.
"Said if I ever want to please this boyfriend the right way, I needed to know beforehand... needed to know how to serve a man like any good girl should."
"What a monster..." Price growled, shaking his head in disgust, before choosing his next words carefully. "Was it... only once?"
Instead of answering, you avoided his eyes and looked down to your lap.
That was answer enough for him. "It was more than just that one time?"
"It happened a lot." You whispered barely audible.
"For how long?" Price asked slowly, still trying to remain calm for your sake.
"Two years... maybe three. I can't remember."
It took everything in him to not lose his cool right then and there. Staying seated on the couch, he scoots over to you and took your hands softly in his.
"Look at me."
You closed your eyes and shook your head defiantly.
"Please." He pressed, although his voice was quiet and soothing.
You straightened up into a sitting position and opened your teary eyes, afraid. "Please don't be angry at me." You breathed. "It was my fault. I wanted it."
Price raised his eyebrows, ready to yell at you that you were wrong — of course you were wrong — but he quickly shut his mouth close.
You were vulnerable right now, opening up to him, trusting him. He had to proceed thoughtfully, as if a frightened animal was sitting in front of him.
He didn't even want to imagine what you went through. He could imagine it for he had seen enough sick stuff in his years of doing his job, but this one? No, not when he had to imagine you in such a scenario as well.
"Do you really think that, hun? Do you actually believe that it was your fault?" Price asked.
"It was." You nodded, ashamed of yourself. "I wanted to be a grown-up. And he... he told me I was beautiful... he told me he loved me."
"He didn't love you." Price told you sternly, his grip tightening around your hands unintentionally. "He told you what you wanted to hear."
"No, no, no. He loved me. He told me many times how much he loved me. He told me how pretty my body is, how gorgeous I am, how womanly I am..." You were ranting now, not thinking clearly.
He repeated your name again and again, trying to stop you from talking, but you couldn't hear him in your frenzy. He knew he should treat you like a china doll in that moment, but he simply acted out of frustration when he grabbed you by your arms and shook you firmly.
"Open your eyes! You were twelve and he was a fourty-one year old man! He manipulated you, he raped you, he groomed you!"
"Don't yell. Please, don't yell. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You cried out, tears breaking free and streaming down your cheeks.
You struggled out of his grip, slid down the couch and curled up to a ball on the floor.
Price regretted his words in an instant as he followed your movements with his eyes. He quickly pushed himself up, lowered himself next to you on the floor, and wrapped his big arms around you, pulling you on his lap. His hands ran through your hair in a calming manner as he slowly rocked you back and forth.
"I'm sorry, hun. I'm sorry for yelling." He hushed you, "But it wasn't your fault, okay? He made you think it was, but it wasn't."
You buried your face in his olive-green sweater and sobbed, your tears soaking the fabric.
John pulled you closer to him and kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back gently.
"It's okay, sweetheart." He sighed, "Everything is going to be fine. He will never be able to hurt you again."
You calmed down a few minutes later. You had stopped sobbing, but you stayed in Price's arms. He was still stroking your hair, humming a soothing tune.
"Do you feel better now, hun?"
Not trusting your words, you just nodded.
Price smiled at you, but his expression turned grim when a thought crossed his mind. He didn't want to ask, he really didn't, but again his experience from work had proofed him that there could be a possibility.
He had been a rookie when his former team had busted a sex trafficking ring with girls your age when you had been in that situation. He remembered how three of them had been...
"Did you..." Price really didn't know how to ask you this. "Were you..."
You avoided his eyes again.
"Were you..." He tried again, but failed.
He didn't know for sure what the truth was, but he was afraid he already knew the answer.
You knew what he was trying to ask and another wave of shame washed over you.
"The first time it happened was... was when I was thirteen."
"Thirteen..."
He really did his best not to throw up, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.
"What happened to the baby?"
"He brought me to an abortion clinic as soon as he found out."
"And no one ask you about who you are? How old you are?"
You shook your head. "No."
Then either he must have paid them well, or he found a very shady doctor who even treated children.
"Then he took me there again when I was fourteen... twice." You whispered.
Price choked on air. He looked down at you, but this time there was only rage in his eyes. "You got pregnant by this monster... three times?"
You avoided his intense gaze, biting your lip before nodding.
"Did he never use protection?"
You shook your head. "He told me how much he loved it when he could... when he could come inside me. He told me how much he loved watching it–"
"Stop." Price interrupted you, begged you. "Please stop." He tightened the embrace his arms had around you.
"I'll kill him, hun." He gritted out, his demeanour changed all of the sudden as he buried his face in your hair. "I promise I'll kill him."
At his words your body filled with warmth, relief, at the thought of him dying.
He had manipulated you and had lulled you in. He had used your childish naivety and had abused your trust. He had used you and your body in ways you couldn't even start to describe. You had tried so hard to repress the memories of his touches and his words as you grew older and more understanding of what he had actually been doing to you.
And now it all flooded back and it put you back to your 12-year-old-self.
Right now you weren't a soldier anymore, weren't a Sergeant anymore. Right now your were just the little girl again from almost two decades ago.
Although you were biting down hard on your bottom lip to stifle your sobs, you could barely hide the tremor of your body.
"Shh. I'm here, my girl."
Price continued to comfort you, rubbing your back. His voice may be soothing to you, but it was the calm before the storm. On the inside he was boiling with rage.
His voice became stern once more as he asked, "Who is he? What's his name?"
You took your time calming down, taking deep breaths, in and out.
"His name is B-Benjamin Carter." You hiccupped.
"Where is he, hun? Do you know where he is?" Price asked, his voice determined.
"He p-probably is still in m-my home town. Warrington."
You could feel him nodding in acknowledgement before he took you in his arms and lifted you up, placing you back on the couch. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a pen and paper, scribbling down what you had just told him.
He looked up and over to you. "Do you know where he lives, his address?"
"No, I'm sorry." You mumbled.
Your brain seemed to refuse to let you remember anything about the place where it all happened.
"But I know he lives across a small park called Queens Gardens." You sighed and looked at him with apologetic eyes. "I know it's not much, but..."
John just shook his head. "Don't worry. It's more than enough for me."
He gave you a small smile before he turned back to the paper and wrote Queens Gardens on it.
When he was done, he walked back to you and knelt down in front of your sitting position on the couch.
"I'm gonna take care of him, I promise you." He took both of your much smaller hands into his and pressed a feather-light kiss on your knuckles. "This isn't a mission. He isn't a target of the British Special Forces. Am I making myself clear?"
You look sheepishly at him.
"This is pretty much illegal, hun, killing a man outside of our job, killing a man for personal matters." He explained slowly like you were a child, "But I will do it anyway. For you. I wish he was a job, because I would…" Price had to take a deep breath. "I would take years to make his life a living hell. I would torture him, would break him, would make him beg me to kill him." He kissed your knuckles again. "He will never hurt anyone again."
He then pulled you into yet another hug. He tightened his arms around you, his mind racing with what he will do when he found this man.
But for now he was just holding you, protecting you.
Since Benjamin was a close family friend, your father, with whom you had long broken off, sent you a month later a message about his best friend's murder.
It wasn't typical of Warrington to have such a bloody incident, so when you looked it up on your laptop you quickly found a headline announcing:
Local citizen found dead in home with several stab wounds: police investigating.
You automatically thought about Price. He had taken a week off of work for personal reasons and had just returned today. It was already late, so he was sitting in his office now, probably letting the day end with a cigar and a whiskey.
You needed to thank him somehow.
But how? Your captain was a good-hearted, strong and caring man who had killed a man a few days ago... for you. How could you ever repay him for something like that?
Then an idea flashed into your mind. You wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid when the solution was so obvious. Of course there was something you could do.
It didn't take you even 10 minutes to ready yourself before you headed over to Price's office. You knocked dutifully on his door and soon found him working at his desk after he called you in with a "Come in!"
He looked up the second the door opened and greeted you. "Hey, hun–"
His voice failed him when he took in your appearance.
You weren't dressed in civvies like you normally were and you weren't dressed in your military attire either like he was. Instead you were standing there, in a black robe which reached to your mid-thighs, barefoot.
He wouldn't question your choice of clothes because now and then you would visit him in his office at 1 AM or 2 AM in you pyjamas, but the thin black fabric you were wearing now wasn't like you at all.
He opened his mouth to ask you what you were doing here, why you wearing that, anything, but before he could form one single word, your fingers were undoing the knot that was holding the robe close and opened it, revealing your completely bare body to his eyes.
Price's eyes widdened in shock before he averted them quickly, his neck cracking from how fast he turned his head to the side. He had tried to look away as fast as possible, but the image of your beautiful body was already burnt into his brain.
"(Y-Y/N), what are you doing?" He stuttered, his eyes fixed to the full ashtray placed at the right edge of his desk next to his half-full whiskey glass.
You approached his desk slowly, your movements making the loose fabric of the robe slide down your shoulders to the crook of your arm.
"I want to say thank you, Captain." You smiled innocently at him.
You were fully believing that this was the right way, the only way, as you were taught.
John Price was the first man you had opened up to, the first man who you trusted. Of course you trusted your other Task Force members, too, trusting them with your life on the battle field, but the trust for your Capatin was different.
Your captain had treated you like any other rookie in your first month at this base, but from there on he had started to approach you more often.
He was happy to help you when you were clueless about how to clean the different kind of weapons and guns in their own right way until you got the hang on it.
He was right behind you with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest to correct your stance or adjust your grip on your gun.
He was the first you told about your promotion to sergeant.
He was the one who brought you into his new Task Force.
He was laughing when you told him another funny story at night in his office where you shared a drink.
John Price was the man Benjamin Carter had trained you for since you were twelve years old.
"I was taught to always show gratitude."
Price's grip on the arm rests of his chair tightened, his knuckles turning white as the paper sheets sitting in front of him on his desk. "By getting naked?"
You nodded with a smile.
"Benjamin told me it's the only way to make a man happy.
You were so far lost in your head, you didn't even register his body tensing up in discomfort.
"Benjamin Carter was a monster." Price tried to be gentle, but he couldn't keep the condemnation out of his tone. "This is not how you should show gratitude, sweetheart."
You were shaking your head, the unaware and soft smile still on your lips. "I always showed how thankful I was when he did a favor for me, and now I'm going to thank you for what you did for me. It's my duty."
Only now Price seemed to realize how badly this man had damaged you mentally.
"It's not your duty." He gritted out before he took a deep breath to compose himself. "You don't have to repay something someone did for you with your body."
"But he taught me–"
"What he taught you is nothing a good person would have done. It was wrong. He was a vile and evil man who took advantage of your childlike naivety and innocence to mold you into something so horrible to satisfy his own disgusting fantasies." He said as calm and clear as he could muster.
"Do you understand me, sweetheart? Do you understand that this–" He gestured with his hand to your lack of cover. "–is wrong?"
There was a frown on your face now, seemingly aware now that he was unhappy with you.
Are you not pretty enough?
Is your belly not flat enough?
Are your breasts not big enough?
Maybe you should take off the robe completely and kneel down...
Stupid you. Of course, you could never be naked enough, never be sexy enough, never be willing enough for anything he has in mind, to repay him for what he had done for you.
"But you helped me." You whispered.
Price didn't need to look at you to hear the clear disappointment and sadness in your voice.
"Are you telling me you think you owe me? You think you owe me your body?" His tone was stern, but you didn't miss the sorrow and concern in his voice.
There was no answer and if there was he couldn't see it.
With his eyes still averted, Price got up from his seat and rounded his desk. With his eyes trained to the side, not even daring to catch a glimpse of your exposed body, he reached out to close your robe.
Misunderstanding the whole act as acceptance of your offer, you dropped down to your knees in front of him and grabbed his belt to open it.
Price, who's brain had yet to catch on what you were intending to do, grabbed your wrists and stopped you to go any further.
"Hun, no... you don't need to do this. It's okay." He said tenderly, knowing that you aren't yourself right now. "I did what I did because it was my own wish. I did it for you, yes, but I did it on my own account. So you don't owe me anything, okay? No need to return the favor."
You shook your head, his words not making any sense to you. "But I do owe you." You replied, vehemently clinging to your beliefs.
You twisted your wrists out of his grip that had starten to loosen and reached determined for his belt again.
You were stopped once more when Price's fingers locked around your wrists and pulled your hands away from his pants.
"Sweetheart, please stop it."
You looked up at him, shaking you head vigorously. "No, no. I need to."
You didn't even notice the tears that had started to run down your cheeks as you struggled against the hard and slightly painful hold he had on you.
Price lowered himself on his knees so he was on the same eye level as you. "Hun, calm down. Everything's good, everything's fine. You do not owe me anything. I don't need you to thank me. I was simply looking out for one of my soldiers."
You hiccupped. "I will like it. I will love it. I promise I will. I will be good, I will be a good girl for you." You sobbed, ignorant to his words as you talked in a frenzy.
You actually believed that this was something normal to do to show appreciation.
Price let go of your wrists to cup your tear-straked cheeks. "I don't need you to be good. I don't need you to do something you are clearly forcing yourself to."
"Am I not pretty enough?" You suddenly asked, sure of yourself that this was the reason why he didn't want you.
Price huffed. "Hun, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He smiled reassuringly at you, trying to calm you. "You're are gorgeous and intelligent and talented. You work so hard, and are always respectful and polite to anyone around you."
He reached down to your robe to close it.
"But you don't have to repay kindness with your body, hun. That's not how it works."
He wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb before he placed his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek.
The fog clouding your head finally cleared and you were now able to comprehend his words fully. You felt shame and embarrassment wash over you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
"Do you... do you maybe have some spare clothes I can borrow?" You mumbled.
"Sure thing, hun." He cooed and got up to take the few steps to the right to reach the closet where he kept his training clothes.
He kept them there for easy access if he found enough time to go to the gym. He took the bag and handed it over to you.
"Thank you." You said, your voice low and your eyes fixed on your knees.
"I will leave you alone for a moment so you can change in private." You heard his voice from above you and then the soft click of the door closing.
You finally ripped your fixed stare away to glance at the door and then to the bag in front of you. Opening it, you grabbed the shirt and sweatpants and quickly put it on. You pressed the collar of the shirt that you were practically drowning in to your nose and inhaled.
It was freshly washed, but even then you could still smell a hint of tobacco.
A knock on the door took you back to reality.
"Everything okay in there? Can I come in?"
"Yeah." You croaked.
You quickly cleared your throat and repeated, "Yeah. Come in."
Price opened the door and smiled at you, reliefed now that you are fully clothed. He pushed away the warm tingles in his belly when he took you in. In another situation, he would have been happy and proud to see you wearing his clothes, but for now he just nodded to the the couch.
"Lets sit down, okay."
You followed him and sat down, leaving a respectful space between the two of you.
"I want you to understand that everything I said today is how it is. I need you to understand that you don't owe me, anyone for that instance, anything. And if you do, you don't do it with your body. When I help you, or do something for you, it's because I care about you and I want to."
Price carefully reached out to place two fingers under you chin to turn your head so you would look at him.
"Nothing that monster had taught you was right. No man, no real man, would ever demand of you to give yourself to him to repay him or thank him. A real man would worship you, would cherish you." He clarified, "If you do something, it should be because you want to and not because you have to. Your body belongs to you and only to you."
There was another wave of tears trickling from the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks.
"I'm there for you, hun. Never think you need to do anything you don't want to to be worthy of affection."
Overwhelmed by his gravely voice and his solacing words, not knowing what to do with this flutter in your belly, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips on his.
Price tensed in surprise. A selfish part of him wanted to pull you in and kiss you passionately until you had to part to breathe, but he already had experience in pushing that part aside when it came to you.
He pushed you away from him by your shoulders, shaking his head. "No, hun."
He sighed when he saw the hurt in your eyes. He had wanted to do this a long time ago, had waited for this to happen, but not like this. He refused to take advantage of your vulnerability.
"I want to, but I can't. Not when you're like this, not in this state. You need to recover from what you had been through, need to work with your trauma, and when you're ready, and I mean truly ready, then we can talk." Price says with a heavy exhale. "But right now, this is not what you need."
He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles before he looked into your eyes.
"Take all the time that you need to heal. And if you still think that I'm worthy of your attention, I will be there. I'll be there, waiting for you."
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fanficwriterlover · 7 months
Text
My Choice Our Consequence
Chapter 2 (Part 1) : Big News to All
Summary : Hera has returned home, yet your absence has put a damper on the taskforce 141. Everyone is confused of your absence and it takes a lot of getting used to being a civilian now and being pregnant now.
Expectations: Confessions, Past Smut, Shooting, Cursing, Pregnancy, Reveals, Reconnecting, Smoking, Drinking, Assault, Google Translator etc.
Call-Sign: Hera or Lil Light
Word Count: 6.7k
A03 Version
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Ghost’s POV
Quit ? You ? That almost seems impossible to believe. He composes himself once more looking at Price for any sign of misunderstanding. But who was he kidding, this sort of topic isn’t something Price would make up into the thin of air let alone joke about. He could tell this was taking a heavy toll on him, as if this was the last thing he would’ve expected. As he should, because he probably was unaware that it was due to him scolding her for making her quit. Least, that’s what he told himself. His eyes narrow seeing the paper before Price, it was your resignation form. You filled it out yesterday and gave it to him. He stood for the longest time processing, had his words been too harsh ? Should be have approached you yesterday and apologized for what he said to you. Yet, Price was the one to pull him from his thoughts… “I was hoping she wouldn’t go about it this way…unless you had a hand in the decision?” he cocks his brow at him waiting. But from the sound of it, why was he asking as if the two of you talked as if you both needed approval from another ? “Sir ?” he was confused, why would he make a decision for you ? Obviously this made Price eyes widen “She didn’t say or mention anything to you ?” he then narrows his eyes on Ghost, Ghost was just as confused as he cocked a brow, crossing his arms over his chest “Should I have been aware of a choice the Sargent had made on her own accord ?” Price huffs at that rubbing his forehead, something was eating at him… like he knew something that Ghost didn’t knows. However he seems to brush it under “Nevermind Simon…I thought you two may have discussed or something before she wrote in her resignation.” He sighs at this leaning back in his chair grabbing a cigar and his lighter. Stressed. This wasn’t at all what they were expecting from you. Out of everyone you were the most driven and dedicated to staying with the taskforce. You saw them as family, and felt accepted. Ghost couldn’t help but feel slightly, disappointed? When he said those words to you, he expected you to more prove him wrong…but guess you didn’t. Yet, why is it bothering him so much that you didn’t. He looks back at the Captain “Sir…was there something I should know" he asks curiously watching the Captains movement as he took a drag of his smoke yet eventually landing his eyes back on him. “Honestly, it’s not my place to say Simon. But, when the time is right, I’m sure you’ll get the answer.” He sighs heavily, Ghost could see traces of stress in his voice that the very idea they’ve lost another member would take a toll. And it would, being asked into this taskforce is no easy deal. You’d be a hard person to replace, and quite frankly it’s too soon for it.
Ghost takes his leave from Prices office, he lingers by the door for a moment processing his words and his own with you. This felt like horrible timing, he wished he knew where you live so he could snap some sense into you. Maybe Johnny or Gaz knows where you live ? Perhaps he should see how they’re handling the news if they know about it. Surely she would’ve said goodbye to her best friends ? Though it’s odd that she didn’t even give Price a chance to coax her otherwise, and why wasn’t Price making efforts to get her back? For her to even leave would’ve required a signature approving her reason to depart, therefore someone higher rank has given it to her. But who ?
He trudges down the halls of the bunkers then sees one of the doors wide open, deep down he knew exactly who the room belonged to, well had, as he stands in front of the doorframe, your room. He can see that the room is a bare state now. The bed perfectly tucked and made, with an extra blanket laying at the end, folded neatly, with the pillow at the top fluffed up. From the desk cleaned with even some new pencils and pens in a cup and blank sheets of papers laid neatly, obviously done for the next person to inherit this room. He couldn’t help but be reminded of how the two of you spent that night together. It was a moment he let himself go, let Ghost go, and brought out Simon. He felt vulnerable to your touch yet felt the power that always coursed through you spread through him. Yet now, as he stands in the middle of your room, it’s cold, empty, lifeless. It feels more as if you were killed off never to be seen again. That made it feel worse. The fact that you made a room warm would be loss now. But most of all, he didn’t realize how dark his vision had become without your energy . You bright aura that shined so dominantly, it gave Ghost a headache sometimes because he was never used to such a sight. No matter when you’ve been shot at, stabbed, nearly blown up (as he still remembers the incident like it was yesterday). Every hellish moment, he was there with you during them saving you at the last minute or finding you. Even then, you never, ever, let it diminish your light. He takes in his surroundings once more, before silently leaving the bunker as he walked out the door he could hear the familiar footfall patterns of two Sargent’s obviously coming down probably to collect you. Instead they are faced with a skull mask.
Gaz curses in a mumble and Johnny practically jumps when Ghost steps out through the room. They both were obviously not expecting the looming man to step from your bedroom, but Gaz quickly recovers. “Afternoon sir, is y/n up ? We hadn’t seen her in a while and thought she was cooping herself up in there.” They both look at him expectantly he frowns a bit, it was a fleeting moment one neither would’ve caught as he now knew, that not only did you leave somehow with approval and never told himself or maybe the captain but you didn’t even tell your closest friends. The Sargent’s. He looks away from them glancing down to the other way of the hall saying gruffly “You won’t find ‘er ‘ere. She resigned from the taskforce.” He could hear the sharp intake of Soap and as he glances at them with his arms crossed now, they both are wide eyed and shocked. Soap is the first to speak “What ?! I don’t fuckin’ believe it !” he peeks into your once room, seeing how bare it is, he start rummaging through everything as if looking for any sign that just maybe, maybe, you left for a bit and would return. He flung open your closet where your clothes used to hang but it was empty, except for extra hangers on the pole and extra blankets, towels, etc laying on the top shelf. Gaz stands there stunned yet, sadden as Soap still seems to refuse you’ve left as he curses “Fuck !” his efforts are to no a vail. You had cleaned out your bunker spotlessly, there was no practical evidence of you living here for all these years. And that’s what hurt more. Gaz mumbles softly. “She didn’t even say bye…nothing…” he almost whispers it. Ghost could tell it was tearing the inside of Gaz. You two were hip and bone. He remembers when the two of you found out that you were part of the same taskforce exclaiming how you both met on a mission in Paris and you were aiding Gaz’s team to collecting more Intel. So seeing that not only were they not told of your soon departure but you had left without a word to your friend. Ghost breaks the annoying silence, in some cases he would’ve enjoyed it, but it was painful now, usually you were the one to break the moment with your cheerful demeanor and made everyone forget what they were glooming or stressing about. Now you were gone. The effects obvious now. “Soap, Gaz, you two are needed to train the privates. Should get to it Sargent’s.” He watches as they both seem to straighten up at the order, walking out of your once room slowly, Gaz lingering last as Ghost observed him. “Did she not say anything to you Lt ?” he still looking at the room but glances his way as Ghost meets his eyes, “No.” Gaz nods his head painfully, almost having to accept the reality, he took his leave of the room leaving Ghost last. He takes one last look, a reminder of the place he seen her so many times, before leaving. He shut the door to your room then went to his office to get some work done. Maybe, just maybe, he hoped they’d see you again. Maybe you would come back ?
Your Pov
Honestly it was scary leaving, the base was your home for so long. Wearing your military attire was all you’ve ever known., yet now you were dressed as a civilian in a cab heading back. Already you felt butterflies in your stomach, it was thanks to Laswell for making the changes and approving you resignation and to leave the base. Already driving home, you were about three hours from your home and already excited to see your mother. You had called ahead to let your mother know you’ll be returning home which she was ecstatic to know you’ll be home. She just didn’t know you were pregnant and you had to leave the taskforce because of it. That was a conversation you were dreading. Your mother being a single mother and raising you on her own, had always wanted you to do better than her. She made the mistake in dating your father who had one too many issues that your mother to this day refuses to share the details. All you knew was you mother hightailed as far as possible, dishonored by her own parents for being knocked up before marriage and choosing to keep you. Yet to her, you were a blessing. You gave her motivation to keep living and honestly embrace motherhood. You were never a complicated child, sure as you got older you rebelled but you respected your mother above all else. She inspired you to join the military because you saw her as fearless and determined as a soldier. The moment you hit 16, things were getting harder financially so you asked her, no pleaded with her to let you join the service. Of course emotionally she refuses but you had encouraged telling her how it was your wish, even though you simply joined to support your mother. Every paycheck you received went to your mother. And you made certain she was given it on time. This allowed your mother and you to look into a new home that was more suitable than a dingy old flat. You both ended up saving up on a nice townhouse that had more rooms than your old flat. It was a three bedroom two bath, a decent size kitchenette, living, and one office. One bedroom is upstairs and the other is upstairs next to the office.
You knew immediately that the third bedroom will likely become your unborn child’s bedroom. A part of you seemed excited to prepare for the baby but another part of you terrified, you left at a crucial time for the team. You would have gone on a mission to eliminate and it was a top priority but now with you out, and no reason to be allowed to return for a long while it broke your heart to think that you’ll be looked at differently. Definitely probably in the eyes of the Lieutenant, you knew he took betrayal seriously and to him you’re probably certain he believes you did just that.
Sighing heavily you rub your brows you draw closer and closer to home, passing by valley, meadows, woods, homes, farmlands and more each passing by in a haze. It’s almost hard to imagine that this world is peaceful when there’s war raging elsewhere. Knowing exactly your team will be giving their lives for this exact peace while you would not be there to see it through. You don’t realize how much driving gone by until you see a familiar street, as your driver turns down it. Your home, how it seemed unfamiliar, all the rows of homes lined up nicely in different shades it was emotional seeing it once more. When the driver finally pulls to the front of your driveway you nearly suck in a breath. Seeing your home digits on the door as you can seeing your mother’s car in the driveway. You smile to yourself, opening your purse you grab out the cash to pay the driver, adding an extra tip for the ride as he gets out to pull out your duffle bag. You travel light, you didn’t have much anyways. Taking it in hand you thank him as he then drives off.
Standing in your driveway it felt unreal, you never thought you’d come home honestly. With always being on mission you honestly thought you’d die on the field before you ever could be home again. As sad as that reality was, you were always away. From one base to another it never ended. And Laswell always needed your for a mission so it was impossible to be in one place for long. Which you didn’t mind, however, sometimes you were homesick or close to facing death. You don’t know how long you were staring at your apartment but the next thing you knew, the door to your home flies open, your eyes quickly snap in that direction, immediately thinking your mother must’ve seen you through the window. She was in pure tears rushing down the three steps as you began to get emotional to “Mom!” you cry as she tightly embraces you you don’t remember dropping your duffle bag you’re just overwhelmed, she’s crying holding you and it makes you feel so loved once again. “Oh my god ! Y/n !” She sniffles as she strokes your cheek looking at your face you had one tiny scar over the top of your brow nothing serious, least not compared to the ones on your body as she hugs you again “I thought you wouldn’t get here for another hour ?” she smiles at you happily taking in that you’re in front of her as you laugh softly “Well, that would ruin the element of surprise.” You wipe your eyes but she immediately begins to do so too before wiping her own. “Come ! Let’s get you inside ! Oh I just can’t believe my little girls home !” you smile bashfully, knowing it’s not the only thing you brought home. Yet you followed your mother waist to waist carrying your duffle as you entered your home.
Couple Hours Later
It doesn’t take you long to settle into your room, your mother insists on making you a grand meal upon your arrival and had even already contacted your Uncle Daryl to come see you. You were his only niece and favorite. He raised you as if you were his own daughter so hearing he’ll be arriving made you smile. As you walked around your place you couldn’t help but smile seeing the pictures hung of the two of you when you were much younger. It almost made you hope you could share the same experiences with your own child…This also made you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to tell your mother and uncle about your unplanned pregnancy. The thought made your stomach feel more acidic, but you kept it down in your stomach. Though the thought quickly left your mind when you nearly jumped from your seat upon hearing the front door open abruptly. Turning your head you see your Uncle Daryl, who obviously out of breath and eyes scanning the place until he sees YOU.
The tears prick at the corner of your eye as you stand up and he takes long strides to meet in the middle. Embracing you in a tight hug. You missed him. Your mother sneaks a peek seeing the two of you embracing as she also starts to get emotional and comes in to join the hug. Your family. One you sometimes forget because you’re so consumed in your job. You don’t know how long the three of you hold each other, or who was the first to withdraw but you sniffle wiping your eyes then smile “Good seeing you Uncle,” he huffs smiling back with the biggest one, showing his dimples. He was your mother’s big brother, so of course he looked after the two of you. He too was part of the military, the Air Force to be exact, and he was another inspiration for you to joining the military. Yet you never imagined you’d be in more dangerous situations than him. “Good seeing you again lil lumière.(little light)” He seems to do a quick scan over you, probably looking for any kind of wounds, which fortunately are in areas well hidden so you thanked your lucky stars. Otherwise he would’ve gone on a rant about how unwise you decided to join the most dangerous type of work. Honestly you were glad you could share a bit with him, of course not classified information but it helped to share her struggles and things only he would understand and handle emotionally better than your mother could. “Momma, is making our favorite tonight.” You giggle seeing his eyes widen with excitement “Oh you shouldn’t have Monica ! Hell, I’m trying to keep this old body still in shape and you trying to fatten me up !” he laughs at this which your mother playfully whacks him on the arm “Only thing fattening you up Daryl is your wine.” You couldn’t help but stifle a snort as he looks at you to her offended “Sorry Unc, she’s got a point.” He grumbles in French, which you caught a little how he says we disgrace the French tongue. However your mother rolls her eyes and goes on her way to continue cooking as you go to sit down with your uncle. “So…what brought you back ? And I don’t want to hear,” as he uses the air quotes incorrectly “That you wanted a vacay. I know you better than that.” He leans close as he was seated across from you in a lounge chair waiting for your response. You shift in your sheet, his narrowing eyes felt the same as your Captain. Which would make sense because your Uncle was once the Commander of his unit. “Well…I resigned from the taskforce…” his eyes shoot wide open, obviously shocked. Yet he goes straight back to composing himself narrowing then once again “Why ?” it came out gruff and you felt like you were on the pedestal being scolded by your homeroom teacher. “I-, I wanted to tell you both honestly…not just one of you.” He cocks his head to the side confused, what you didn’t know was your mother was ease dropping in the conversation as she steps out with concern written on her face “What is it sweetie ?” your uncle seems to be processing and calculating different reasons why you would have resigned from the taskforce, let alone been allowed to. You could practically see the gears in his brain churning with every possibility. You must’ve been holding your breath because you quickly blurted out “I’m pregnant.”
In a quick huff you take in both your uncle and moms facial. Complete shock. Your uncle seems to be going between your eyes and stomach almost probably finding it hard to believe and possibly questioning how along are you because you sure as hell didn’t look it “3 weeks…I’m three weeks pregnant.” Biting your lower lip you couldn’t help but feel anxious with the growing silence between the two as you spoke “Look, I know it’s horrible timing. It wasn’t exactly intentional… and I’ll be allowed back in the task force once the baby is born but the station chief made the call and got me out so no one would question my absence.” You pant out, you said it so quickly your mother must’ve been confused on some parts but her eyes were welling up and it made you more worry that it was because of disappointment “I- I know…I’m so-” your mother latches herself around your neck hugging you as your left dumbfounded as she speaks softly stroking your hair “Oh sweetie, if you’re happy with having this child, I’ll sport and help you. You have NOTHING to apologize for.” she looks you dead in the eyes and you feel a sense of warmth. You should’ve known, your mother would walk through hell with you and trust you entirely. You’ve done nothing but look after her and provide her a good life, so she was beyond willing to do the same for you and your child. You glance over at your uncle who seems to be processing, as he says lowly “I knew something was different about you kid…” you and your mom look at him confused as you never felt nervous until you saw him smile. “You’re glowing as much as your mother did when she was pregnant with you mi lumière” he stands up and comes over rubbing your back at you give him the most appreciative smile “Thank you… both of you” felt like a weight came off your shoulder. Telling them was a big deal and knowing they’d still support you made you feel so much better. You Uncle then looks serious at you “So, do I want to know who the âne (jackass) of a father to this baby is ?” You mother once again reaches over and whacks your uncle who curses “Qu’est-ce que c’est que Monica ?!(What the hell Monica)” you begin laughing as your mother giggles, with your uncle huffing in mild amusement. “Well ?” he cocks his brow looking at you as you blush a bit “I- I can’t tell you yet, but I promise he’s a good man…in his own way.” He squints his eyes at you questioning your choice of words “If that’s so…why isn’t he here ?” obviously your mother senses you tense from the subject giving a glare in your uncle’s direction “What Daryl means is ! As long as he’s a good man we’re happy” he grumbles a bit “Bien sûr Bien sûr (Of course of course) , but why isn’t he here with you meeting us ?” he cocks his brow again as you sigh knowing he won’t be letting go “Because…I didn’t tell him exactly he’s going to be a father…”he rubs his face with both hands obviously more stressed. Your mother seems taken back by this news as she tentatively asks “Why not sweetie ?”
A good question indeed, honestly the idea of telling them the father is your Lieutenant would sending your uncle to his grave early. And no, not from the idea but simply because you know he’d be yelling his hat off to Ghost and would likely get himself well handed to him. Sighing heavily “I didn’t get a chance, they were preparing for a mission.” You’d hope they’d buy it, your mother seems to have. But your uncle ? Hah, impossible he could read you like a book and as he should considering he used to be a commander. You mother claps her hands together standing up “Well ! This is a cause for pie then and I’ll need to run to store to collect some stuff. Write a list dear, I know those growing cravings will get to you soon.” She smiles with delight going back into the kitchen leaving you with your uncle.
He stares at you for a few moments as if waiting to make sure your mother was actually in the kitchen continuing to cook. When he’s satisfied, hearing the clattering of pots and pans against the stove or her bustling through the fridge for ingredients he then speaks lowly “So, what’s the real reason the father doesn’t know?” he squints his eyes at you, felt more like an interrogation then question, however you probably wouldn’t be surprised he’s using his Commander tone in order to get an answer from you. In all honesty it worked. “Because his my superior officer. I was told to tell him but quite honestly I don’t think he would’ve…” you bite your tongue considering your next words tentatively “I don’t think he could handle having a child. He barely knows himself.” You say softly. Hoping your uncle wouldn’t pry further. Which he wouldn’t. He understood every soldier has traumatic experiences in the military especially being in the SAS. He had no doubt you’ve seen things he would’ve rather your eyes never witnessed. With that answer he nods his head. “Well…one of these days you need to tell him. Perhaps you’d be more surprised by the outcome.” He pauses for a moment stroking his chin and looking out the window “If I’m being honest y/n, I think telling the father would make him better. I know when Monica told me, I was horrified for her. But then,” He smiles “Then when you were born it all changed. Before you I was short tempered and…” he grumbles “Not gentle with my choice of words which I got a firm scolding from Monica during his hormonal stages.” The idea your mother would have yelled seems hard to believe, even when you did wrong she never raised her voice at you. “Tell him one day y/n. I think your child deserves that chance at least.” Pondering on his words he leaves the room to go help your mother continue cooking with you contemplating on his words.
Maybe you should…perhaps ? What’s the worst that can happen ? He rejects you once again ? Tells you your on your own when you’ve already mentally accepted that fate ? Maybe your uncle is right, you don’t know. Ghost is still a mystery to you. Sometimes he’s snappy and harsh to others especially during missions. But you know he means well. Infact you couldn’t help but think about the times he was more…nicer to you. Like the time you were at the shooting range you were working with different weapons at the time, but particularly was working with a heavy set rifle that always made you sore in the shoulders…
You huff annoyed after having pulled the trigger on this rifle. It was bulky and heavy, when it fired it sent a painful ache up your shoulder upon impact. Now usually your preferred rifle was lighter and easier to handle the impact into your shoulder. Yet this one, this one was so big and bulky, the idea of carrying it onto the field seemed impossible. You’re only average height standing 5’7, which apparently to everyone else is very small since you usually get picked on. However, you always made up for your size with your agile self and quickness. If a bigger opponent used their full strength you had to be quicker. It’s why you did so well on the field especially hand to hand combat. You had you fair share of training with other recruits, privates, and Sargent’s McTavish and Garrick. Soap always gave you a run for your money but you always held your ground. Yet, you never dared to attempt against ghost. He was a forced to be recon with. You seen soap spar with him and seeing the big brute of the Scottish man easily subdued was terrifying.
Withdrawing your gaze from the scoop you grab the binoculars to inspect how well you shot it, not a bulleye, you hit right outside it. You were close…but it wasn’t good enough. A mere inches off is enough to give the enemy time to fire a shot back at you or detonate you and your team. The progress you’ve made with the weeks of practicing seemed futile. You almost were considering telling price you were not cut out for this particular mission which required you to be watching soaps six while ghost would be overwatch. Why they were making you go, you understood. They wanted to get in quick only relying on stealth and to not attract attention. Not saying ghost would, but his large stature would give way to the enemies quickly. Yet, you’ve seen him infiltrate buildings with ease but this mission was hoping to shed no blood shed. Sighing heavily you lean away from the table, “you keep gripping it like that you’ll never hit your target right.” The words from a deep voice made you almost jump, as you quickly reached for your knife quickly swing it behind you, only for your wrist to be caught, inches from ghosts looming neck. You let out a shaky voice “Lieutenant..” You were embarrassed now, relaxing your stance as he releases his hold on your wrist before looking right over your head where you had missed your target once more already having hit it 7 times to no avail. “When you fire don’t fight against the shot, you tense alters your movement when looking through scope.” He nods his head “Try again.” You raise a brow at him but obey. Not like you’d ignore your lieutenants orders. Facing back and getting into position, you then start to feel his hand readjust your stance, it was subtle, he used his boot to nudge your feet, he used his gloved hand to fix your elbow, then poke at your shoulder to moving it back and relax. When he seemed content after fixing your stance he simply grunts an approval. His back leaning against the table as you take the shot. It felt different, not as abrupt when the bullet launched your whole body seemed to absorb it better, and when you lift your gaze from the scope to look at where it hit you see you finally hit the bulleye. You’re shocked …you made the shot, but that’s not what was shocking to you, ghost helped you make it. Glancing up at him, his posture was looking at the base but his eyes were gazing down at you. “Not bad.” He mumbles before pushing off the table and walking off. You’re left stunned but appreciative. He didn’t have to help you, let alone adjust your stance. You began continuing to practice doing that stance until the day of the mission. Honestly, it paid off.
Now that that you’re thinking back on it, perhaps that’s when you began to notice other subtle gestures Ghost would show to you. At first you just thought it was his way of correcting you but now maybe…it was perhaps he cared enough to do so. He never took the time to do that with other recruits or privates. So maybe ? Perhaps you should give him the benefit of the doubt at least give him the chance to see if he wants to be a part of your child’s life. For now…you’ll wait. You’re certain by now they’re deciding best course of action eliminating General Ghorbani, that was the mission you were tasked to go with Ghost yet instead you’re dealing with his unborn child growing in your stomach. Probably best to wait it out. Though one thing is certain, you owe it to Soap and Gaz…
Few Months After Eliminating General Ghorbani
Ghost’s POV
Recently Ghost was just filling out paperwork, having to write down everything that happened per week for higher ups to see from different points of view. Gaz had gone back to his original base, working to get some intel and Soap, he knew he’d be returning tonight. Felt like everyone had gone their own way. Just the thought of how everyone seemed to slowly fade away made Ghost tense. First you, then Gaz, then Soap, and Price. He knew they’d return but the idea he was surrounded by no one he trusts made it hard. A part of him would never blatantly say it out loud but, the minute you left there was nothing holding them together now. Metaphorically you were the chip on a glass cup that kept everyone together, the minute you fell off the rest soon cracked.
During your absence, he would never admit, he spent every opportunity dwelling on his words to you. He wondered if you hated him so much that you turned on them all because of his choice of words. He felt like a bloody idiot for saying them. The only reason he said it, he had hoped to cut his own feelings for you. It was never to doubt your abilities. Far from it, he knew what an asset you were to the team. Besides your bubbly personality and calmness during tense times you were a skilled fighter. He seen you take down a man not as big as himself, but fairly tall as Soap and you easily had the man struggling to keep up having the man shift to a defense stance. You were a sight when in a fight. In fact it was almost alarmingly attractive to Ghost seeing a women so lean yet small hold your own. The image of you from that night often played in his mind, it was torturous. He can hear how you moaned out his name, arching your back from the immense pleasure and begging him to keep going and give you more. It’s been 5 months…5 long grueling months and not a minute of breather. It’s hard to believe how much he needed your presence, how you kept him sane when not out in the field, in his zone. Sometimes he wondered how he would cope with the life of mundane lively hood. Were you living such ? Knowing what you know and have seen out in the world, did you forget it all ? Did you let your guard down ?
That’s when other thoughts, ones he absolutely hated crossed his mind. Did you find someone ? Probably by now, no doubt in his mind you found a bloody bloke who is a lucky bastard to have such a fearless yet regal women. The mere thought of you walking hand in hand with a man who probably could never protect you as well as you could yourself. But no, the idea that HE wasn’t the one protecting you even though you weren’t a damsel in distress. The urge to always protect you in the field was natural instincts for him. He didn’t realize he was gripping his pen tightly until it snapped. Looking at the broken piece of plastic he let go pushing back from his chair simply looking at his hands.
For years, since he was a mere teenager, he only saw himself capable of fighting. Then when he became a soldier all he could think about was killing. Yet when you joined the taskforce and he had himself between your legs, he could see he could perhaps also be gentle. You brought that innocent Simon Riley out of him, the boy who couldn’t fight against his father’s abuse. Couldn’t stand up for his mother when his father was a drunken state. Yet you, you reminded him that he was very much Ghost and Simon. His hands could touch your perfectly smooth skin gently tracing every inch of you, getting the most pleasurable reaction he ever heard. Yet he could also be rough just enough to send you over the edge and begging, clawing him for more.
Grumbling to himself, he pulls out his packet of cigarettes, grabbing one. Lifting his mask just over his nose, he then put the wrapped piece in his mouth then lighting it. He took a drag before puffing out the smoke, the nicotine hitting him hard as he shut his eyes. He did everything in his power to find a way to look to where you were. But even with his rank, he was limited to much. Couldn’t access the full extent to your file as most of your information was black. Not as covered as his but enough for him to be annoyed with because he bloody couldn’t stand he didn’t know where you were if you’re still alive and how he can contact you. This was an annoying addiction that drove him crazy. Where the fuck were you ?
Gaz POV
Honestly seeing the number pop up on his screen while he was in his bunker on a base near London he frowned at bit. It was his personal phone yet only few people could access it since it was a secured number that could not be traced. So he answered “Ello ?” waiting for a response he almost thought it was someone playing a practical prank on him until he heard a soft familiar voice “Hey Kyle…”, you. He was utterly stunned, his throat felt tight and his heart beating hard. “The fuck…y/n ?” you let out a tired laugh as he felt his heart flutter. “Yeah, it’s me silly. How are you ?” you seemed shy, but the same soft spoken as ever. He didn’t know how long he must’ve been silent but it obviously must’ve made you question “Kyle ? You still alive there bud ?” he snorts “Yeah Yeah, I’m just…wow. I’m shocked if I’m honest. How about you ?” you sigh a bit, he could hear you sounded exhausted. Were you not sleeping ? “I’m doing alright…just tired. I- I just missed you. How is everyone ?Been on a lot of missions since ?” he smiled, you were so motherly, he swear his mother would love to know you had reached out to him… in honesty you two knew each other well. Gaz had brought you once to meet his mother during the holidays and she took a liking to you immediately. His mother would always joke about how you were the daughter she always asked for. “Yeah…I’m actually in London working on getting some Intel. I haven’t heard much from Price. Sure the old man out smoking a cigar on a hunting trip. Soap and I keep in contact…Ghost, well haven’t heard much from him honestly. He isn’t much a talker. Oh ! My mam wants to see you again one day ! She was worried when I told her you left.” He could hear you humming as you listened to his update. “Aw, well I’d love to see her again…actually…if your free sometime, I’m sure your mission is important but I’d love to meet you up some time.” He smiles at this “Yeah ? Say where and when.” He chuckles and he holds his breath hearing you laugh. It was airy, he can’t believe how much his missed your energy “Alright, well I’d love to have you over from some tea at my place. Just let me know when you can come by.” He perked up at this. He never been to your place, in fact you seemed very secretive about showing it. He never asked why, so he always volunteered to take you to his place. “Id love that Hera.” He smirked saying your call sign, he can already imagine you grinning “Ah good old days, unfortunately not much of Hera anymore. I don’t think I ever can honestly…” he frowned at this, he wondered if that’s why you resigned from the task force. In fact thinking about it you seemed exhausted, your voice wasn’t as chirpy like you used to be. You seemed out of breath with a few sentences. Were you ill ? “Are…are you ill ?” he asks hesitantly. He huff softly from your side “No…not exactly. It’s complicated, but I promise when we meet I’ll explain. Not like I could hide it anyways.” He now was more curious…did you secretly get sent off on a mission and got seriously hurt ? Were you that ill, you had to resign ? “Well, actually, I’m free today if you are ?” he looks at his clock. It was 06:20, you still were just an early riser as he was. “That would be great. I’ll text you my address. See you soon Gaz.” He can imagine you smiling, as he smiles too “Yeah, see you soon Hera.”
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Taglist : @the-reality-of-my-life , @kat-nee , @wwe1rdc0re , @saturnknows , @stalyxysh ,@avatarislife4ever,@ayesha-fish , @sae1kie ,@longing-for-the-past-times,@daisyfrubies,@sailorneotunemivhiru,@ra-im , @maflor123 ,@i-love-ptv
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2d-reality · 3 days
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Little Things (The Prince of Demons)
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characters: Diavolo, GN!MC navigation: Diavolo | Barbatos | Simeon | Solomon | Luke | Thirteen content/warnings: little things you do, out of love. dateables edition! fluff. could be read as platonic but why would u word count: 862 notes: Alas, Dia is the only one I have finished as of now on account of how my work/life balance has been absolutely wacked recently. I'll get around to the rest eventually, I promise! I have bits and pieces here and there but the dateables don't flow as easy as the boys. Mephis will likely not be included bc I'm not even vaguely familiar with his character, and because we are both horse girls and he is my bitter rival on principle. I stared at this piece a lot but did I edit it? no
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Diavolo was a lonely man. He knew a lonely childhood, tucked away in the Demon King’s palace with only the grounds staff as company. He attended lessons alone as he grew up learning what it would take to shoulder his father’s throne once he came of age. When the reigning monarch fell into his dreamless slumber, Diavolo had effectively lost yet another lifeline to anything resembling a normal existence-- a parent. As a young man (or, rather, the demon equivalent of a young man), surrounded by nobility of all kinds vying for his attention, he knew they only saw Diavolo, the Crown Prince. Even the brothers, who were the closest to being considered his friends, played along with his antics out of duty. No doubt Lucifer drilled it into them to be accommodating. 
Sometimes he felt as though he was cursed-- paying for his original sin by bearing his existence, at the end of the day, alone. 
That was, at least, until you came along. You, so small and fierce and human. You, who upon meeting him at the beginning of your tenure as an exchange student, held his gaze squarely and didn’t back down, even when he could practically smell your fear.
You, who for whatever reason, be it ignorance or sheer, unmitigated gall or something else entirely, didn’t for a moment treat him any differently than any other demon you met. Once you were comfortable living among magical beings, it was as if the floodgates opened. Despite horrified reactions from Lucifer and gentle chiding from Barbatos, you told him when his jokes were stupid (even if you still laughed), slapped his arm companionably when greeting him, and called him by a myriad of silly nicknames. 
Your friendship is the most precious thing Diavolo has ever received in his long life. You aren’t one of his subjects, born to defer to him whether you wanted to or not. You aren’t an angel, who gave him a cautious respect for the good of your realms’ relations. You didn’t even know he existed before you came to the Devildom. You chose not to see the heir to the throne, and instead saw Diavolo-- a gentle giant with more love in his heart than he was born to carry. Diavolo, who would go to the ends of all three realms for those he cared for. Diavolo, who was loud and boisterous and always wanted to be involved. Diavolo, who liked cigar cookies and video games and could be a bit of a goofball. 
He cherishes every aspect of your relationship. He loves when you send him blurry photos of various pairs of objects or animals you see when out and about, with the caption "us fr <3”. He loves getting links to dumb memes in the middle of the night, followed by laughing emojis or “this u??” You poke fun at him, bite back with quips when he makes jokes at your expense, and play silly little pranks on him. His favorite is when you gesture to something on his coat, only to flick the tip of his nose when he looks down to investigate. He’d long since caught on to that ruse, among others, but your bright smile and chirping laughter when you teased him for falling for it yet again are too precious to him to not play along.
He even appreciates the times that you turn down his invitations to spend the weekend at the palace with him, citing exhaustion from the brothers’ antics or pressing schoolwork from RAD. You’re not automatically agreeing simply because you have no choice-- you spend your limited, precious time on him because you want to. More often than not you made up for declining by showing up entirely unannounced some time later, cloaked beneath a spell to shield you from Barbatos’ sixth sense for his Lord getting up to shenanigans, beckoning him to sneak out with you to suck on thick milkshakes in some cramped corner booth and giggle conspiratorially like a couple of misbehaving teenagers. 
When he’s around you, Diavolo feels like he can breathe. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. You aren’t looking for political sway, or funding, or an elevated social status. For the first time in his life, he can set aside his heavy burden and feel... normal. He can ruffle your hair, and only half-heartedly hold you back from practically climbing him to dig your knuckles into his scalp and return the favor. He can laugh when you swat at his hand as he reaches across your plate to steal a few of your fries. He wears the friendship bracelet you braided for him at all times. He considered charming it to never fade or fray, but when it finally falls apart from wear, your mock exasperation when you tell him you’ll make him another makes him feel so real. 
Diavolo was a lonely man. But now, he has a friend. A genuine, honest-to-goodness friend. You have matching contact photos, and inside jokes. You don’t call him my lord when he comes up in conversation; it’s always my friend. Now, thanks to you, he isn’t lonely anymore.
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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Walking in the wind-141
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A/N: sorry but I'm a directioner at heart babes so the title was a must
GN!Reader, angst, some fluff, platonic!relationship, death of character
20 years later, 141 was officially retired, all married, happy families, peaceful sunny days and most importantly, no war, no guns, just peace.
A week ago you said to me "Do you believe I'll never be too far?" If you're lost, just look for me You'll find me in the region of the summer stars
Every month, no matter where either one of the people in the team was in the world, they would fly to a small home in town in the southern part of the U.S. And arrive between 6-7 in the afternoon, to talk and catch up because it's better to see the person than to text them. The stories shared between all, the wives/husbands, kids and how old they were getting. Unlike the rest, you moved to America, and wanted that movie-like life, in some small town, driving a truck, passing through quiet streets where all anyone worried about was the leaves that would fall in autumn. You and your partner opened a small pub.
The name for it was 'R/N's Place" This was after you finally get out of the toxic part of your life, the family and the ache it gave you when you were there. Not a normal name for a pub but the locals loved it. Your favourite part was that you received lots of veterans, they all told you about their time serving and you, like the proud friend you are displayed a picture of you and the team in your first and last mission together.
It was almost around the time the men arrived, Price being the first, followed by Gaz who flew in with him. Soap arrived late, his children wanted to talk to their father before bedtime and Ghost arrived last, getting a call from his partner to which he always answered, he always made it clear his partner was a priority now that he is retired. You waited by the table with the rest for Ghost, your wife/husband serving the clients. "And there he is, Simon." Price smiled a little, proud to see his family again. "Alright, who's first?" Gaz asked and drank from his pint.
"I'll go first," Ghost said, which was a definite first. "Go on, son." Price passed all a cigar. A tradition he started once his grown soldiers/children were all retired. "Me and my partner are expecting a son." A secret he kept until it was assured the baby would make it this time. "Congrats mate!" Soap hugged him, feeling proud of a man he considered his oldest brother. "That's very much well deserved, man." Gaz smiled and you stared in awe. Price looked down with a soft chuckle, wanting to dismiss the tears that formed in his eyes. His wallet would be getting a new picture of the newest addition to the family soon. --- "R/N, I won't make it, go!" Ghost said to which you shook your head. "No, this is the one command I will not take! You will get old and fat but you will NOT die on me lieutenant, not today!" you yelled over the loud noises. ---
He looks at you and you hug him, whispering in his ear, "See, I told you it would be possible this time, Simon. I'm so happy and proud of you." Words that definitely made the tears well up in his eyes.
The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye Means we've already won A necessity for apologies between you and me Baby, there is none
"Now you are all making me feel old." Price jokes and finally looks up. The four people he fought with through wars, all living the lives he knew were all much earned. Through the wounds, blood and sacrifice, somehow, five mad people are still alive. And the entire night, Soap told stories of his farm, and Gaz gave advice on how to fix some stuff, a trip he would soon have to make to Scotland. Gaz on the new tricks his little ones make, how he knows karma got to him and his back aches, so much for the jokes he told about Price. Ghost with his wood-making business, one he started in the backyard and now in Manchester's best small business. Price on how his kids are now in uni and the youngest one is in secondary.
And then you, with their favourite pub in the entire world, how you adopted a child and your eldest in primary already. Your wife/husband watching you smile from afar. You always were excited for these meetings, it was the one time someone other than the local veterans understood the stories you told.
We had some good times, didn't we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve Goodbyes are bittersweet But it's not the end I'll see your face again
And, as each month passed by, it turned into 10 years later. You and the other men in the team gathered not in America but back home in England. All in black dressing, lifting the coffin of the father you all shared. Price had peacefully passed on a calm night. As his wife puts it, he was finally ready to go, his mission was over and the children he raised were all old enough to understand and his little soldiers as he called you were well off in life, the one he made sure you all had. In years you had never seen so many of the toughest and now retired soldiers you worked with cry so much. You did too. The ceremony was as expected, memorable, beautiful and for the last time in John Price's life, peaceful.
Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast I realised you were missing
You all flew back to the first ever pub he took you to. Raise your glasses and shed more tears. You see, this was a promise you all made. An oath between Task Force 141. When one passes, those that remain must go to the first pub we talked to as not a team but a family, and just then we can mourn but also celebrate we once lived.
And I know we'll be alright, child Just close your eyes and see And I'll be by your side Any time you're needing me Oh, yeah
Ghost chuckles, "And he told me, 'you reckon I can make it?' and that old man did it, the deadliest move ever and he fuckin' made it." he takes a sip of his drink. Gaz smiles, fond memories shared between him and Price, to be remembered until his final breath. "He used to do this trick with the smoke from his cigar just for my little girl to giggle, and man does she still ask for that trick," Soap shared. All four of you, smoking a cigar, just like he would've. "Can you believe the old man never complained too much about his back?" you ask to which all others nod. Now in your late 40's to early 50's, you never understood how he never once complained of the aching bones or back, proving he was and will always be the strongest and toughest man to ever grace your lives.
And you will find me Yeah, you will find me In places that we've never been For reasons we don't understand
tags: @warenai @liyanahelena
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melloraconteur · 4 months
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Day 005. | Collaring
John Price x Reader
Synopthesis: The consequences of losing a bet.
Cont. Reader is called Princess, Daddy kink (John Price),
Word Count -> 625
Not edited or proofread
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Bets were fun. Winning was better, and losing was a test of how much you loved your friends. And right now, you wished you could hit them without getting in trouble with your Captain. 
You lost a bet, and now you have to pay for it by wearing a collar the boys had gotten you a while back. 
Your collar is pretty, and expensive. A black leather band with pretty gold chains looping around it, a small bell hanging down from the front that jingled softly when you moved.  
It was something you loved dearly, but it stayed behind closed doors. No chance for your collar to stay there, unless you wanted to be taken over Ghost's knee for disobeying him.  
So you carried on about your day, noticing your beloved Captain taking extra long looks at you, at the small bell that jingled softly against your throat.  
You can't help but smile to yourself though you know you'll be terribly sore tomorrow. 
John is quick to grab you after you were done training recruits. He calls your name and guides you to his room.  
"Need something Captain?" You say with a grin. 
"Watch yourself, princess, daddy's in a good mood today." He warns, pulling you by your hips into him, allowing you to feel his cock press into your back. You can't help but gasp, arousal settling in your belly. 
You felt empty. You push back into John, feeling him tighten his grip on you as you press against his hard cock. 
John lets go of you and nods towards the bed. "lay on the bed and present for me, sweetheart." The bedsheet is soft as you lay your head on his pillow after stripping off your clothes. You loved his smell, cigars and his natural dense musk with the slightest hint of his body wash, was comforting, just as he was. 
You hear John take a sharp breath, clearly taking in the sight of you in his bed, everything off aside from the collar that reminded you both of what you were to each other.  
John, not one to keep you waiting, climbs onto the bed with you, his rough, warm hands caressing you like a man worshipping a goddess. He is gentle as he prepares you for him, gentle and unmoving even as you cry out from overstimulation. 
"Princess, color?" He knows that he is a lot to handle, knows that being with him can be overwhelming in both the best and worst ways. You look up at him with dazed eyes, blinking as you process his question. "Green, daddy." You hum, grabbing his hand and giving it a light kiss. 
He takes your hands into his, holding them as he presses into you and watches you arch your back off the bed. He grins as he sees you give into him, going lax on the bed as he brings you to your third orgasm when he bottoms out. He isn't gentle as he chases his own high, thrusting deep and setting a rough pace.  
He reaches down to where the both of you are connected, playing with you in the way you like to make you cum. He needed you to cum, needed to feel you clench down on him and milk his cock like the greedy princess you are.  
Your orgasm is powerful as it washes over you, toeing the line between pain and pleasure. Distantly, you feel him pull out and feel his semen dribble out of you.
John pulls you close, unclipping the collar from around your neck and placing it on the floor, far enough away that it won't be stepped on. He resumes playing with your hair as you sleep on till he falls asleep himself. 
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Wrote by Melloraconteur. Do not modify, repost onto other sites, or translate.   
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mercurysnotes · 24 days
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Mixtape | No One Like You
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Eddie Munson x reader
★・・・・・・★
[confession] [seeing eddie at a show and you’re in the audience] [you are invited to his trailer cause his uncle was out] [play fighting] [he gives u a mixtape] [silly lil oneshot..with a small bonus] [if i missed a tag lemme know~]
[2.1k words]
★・・・・・・★
The bar smelled of old carpet and cigars that were smushed into the ground. Dim lights would only illuminate the stage as it bounced from the chairs and tables. Rummaging through my bag I pulled out my fake ID card praying they wouldn’t question it. Eddie walked towards the bouncer, placing his hand on their shoulder and said “They’re with me...” and gave me a quick wink. My face flushed as I lowered my head passing the bouncer who never let their eyes off me.
“Thanks...” I said to Eddie as he was now a bit further up with his back towards me.
“No problem. I gotta get ready now, see you after.” He said shooting corny fingers guns leaving as fast as he came. I weaved around the chairs to find table that was close enough to the stage but wasn’t so obviously close enough for him to notice me quickly. As the set began, the lights slightly dimmed for an even more dramatic start.
I could feel the beat of the drums through the chipped worn-out floorboards. The strums of the guitars flowing through my veins as I couldn’t help but slightly head bang along with Eddie. Corroded Coffin was playing a song from Megadeth, yet I couldn’t put my finger on the exact song.
Eddie and I have been friends for little over half a year. We met by him asking me to join his new DnD campaign. I didn’t know anything about stuff like that, I guess I was the type to look the part. Just wearing a different band t-shirt and jeans almost every day. Yet, something about it made Eddie come to me that day and ever since we’ve been inseparable.
Back on the set, I could see the way Eddie and his other band mate, Gareth, were shredding with all their might. The way the beads of sweat glistened down their faces as their passion continued to shine.
“You take a mortal man and put him in control.”
“And watch him a God, watch people’s head a roll.”
They sang as I couldn’t bring my eyes to tear away from Eddie when he grabbed the
microphone. A little after the song had concluded, Eddie and his bandmates would finish their act with a different song they haven’t performed yet. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. Since it felt as though it was such an exclusive moment to be shared with you and the other patrons of the bar.
After the finale song, Eddie was out back taking a quick smoke break as I decided to wait for him to get back. Seeing the other bandmates come out first I went to them to compliment them all on their performances.
               “Thanks for coming out!” Jeff says with a toothy smile as he looked around at the other members so they could agree. I said of course and asked if Eddie was going to come out soon. They just said that it shouldn’t be long. The rest of the band went to the bar, and I couldn’t help but sit at the same table I watched the show, softly doodling on a napkin with a spear pen I found in my jean jacket.
               “Hey there, sweetheart” Eddie said, and I quickly shot my head up with a large smile. “Oh, Eddie you were so good!!! And I don’t just say that cause you’re my friend.” I said with a smirk leaning and poking his chest. “Yeah yeah, I know, thanks for coming out. Seriously.” he said with his toothy grin and eyes morphing into being more sincere. All I did was teasingly humph and walk over to join his bandmates to grab a drink. Eddie couldn’t help but follow behind like a lost puppy.
✧.*
After a few drinks and a lot of laughs, the band decided it was best to call it a night. Luckily, they all managed to make it home safely and Eddie turned his head to me.
               “So..how you are getting home?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head making the lose crazy curls softly land on his face. “Well...I was probably just gonna walk home like how I got here...it’s not too far..” I started leaning back onto the bar counter taking in the calm energy.
“Why don’t you come and hang with me for a bit at my trailer..my uncles not home so it’s not too much of a burden..unless you don’t want to of course-” He said with a soft tone almost as if he was nervous I would reject his offer. “Sure.” I said so fast it cut off the end of his sentence. All he did was smile and get up to grab his things. I happily followed him and made my way to his van.
               A short drive after we made it to the trailer park that Eddie lived in and pulled into his driveway. I tried to get out before Eddie quickly yelled, ‘Nope don’t move’ and he made his way to my side of the van and dramatically opened the door saying ‘Malady’. I could only giggle in response with a medieval time accent ‘thank you kind sir’ taking his hand and stepping down.
               Eddie opened the door and throw his jean jacket on the couch and said, “Make yourself at home!” and continued to the kitchen to grab a beer.
“Is all you drink, beer?” I said with another teasing tone that hasn’t seemed to leave since I first saw him again after his gig. “Is all you do, being a nerd?” He said thinking that would affect me only making me hysterically laugh. “That couldn’t be even more ironic coming from you” I said between gasping for air between my chuckles. “Ha. Ha” Eddie said rolling his eyes taking his first sip.
✧.*
Some more time has passed leaving it to be around 12 in the morning. Not feeling tired I asked Eddie if he’d want to just watch a movie until we fell asleep. He agreed and plopped a movie in and grabbed blankets and pillows, throwing one to my head. “Oops” he said with a devilish grin, and I pouted grabbing the pillow throwing it back hitting him. “Oh, it’s so on!” I squealed and lunged at him with a spear pillow that he brough over. We continued to wrestle, hitting each other back and forth. I then grabbed a spear blanket trying to wrap him up with no use. Somehow as we were both panting from the lack of stopping, I found myself straddling him on the ground holding a pillow above my head ready to strike. As realization sets, I quickly got up apologizing.
               “Oh, jeez sorry didn’t mean to get so caught up in it...” I said slightly flushed hair now all messed up trying to brush it down with my hand, not making as much eye contact. Eddie only sat up from the ground propping himself with his hands and looked at me with starry eyes. “Nah, don’t apologize I started it...self-defense” he said with that stupid toothy grin again holding his hand up mimicking the scouts honor salute. I rolled my eyes and pulled my head back falling onto my back. I started to giggle as my hands went to cover my face. We were both still on the floor, me lying on my back and Eddie’s legs crossed watching my laugh. As I continued to laugh, Eddie seemingly got up and made his way to his room. I noticed and turned my head from the ground and watched him leave the room.
               “Where you goin’??” I shouted slightly so he heard from the other room. “I just remembered something!!” He replied with the same volume and finally made his way out with something in his hand. I finally propped myself up sitting cross-legged and watched Eddie sit back down the same manner. “So, uh...I just thought I’d give this to you now before I forgot again...” He said just plopping it in my hands with no second thought.
               “Think of it like an early…birthday gift.” He continued and fidgeted with his metal rings. “Oh..thank you Ed you really didn’t have too.” I said, looking up at him and taking his hand in mine. A moment passed of me holding his hand and I quickly took it back fearful of what he thought and began to examine the gift. It seemed to be a mixtape that said ‘Love’ and nothing else. I couldn’t help but tilt my head in confusion asking why the title said love.
Eddie bashfully looked around trying to find and answer scratching the back of his neck nervously. “How about I take you to my room to listen to it...I have a Walkman and headphones, I’ll let you listen in there...” He said almost frantically grabbing my wrist, dragging me to his room. As if in a quick secession, I was sitting alone on Eddie’s bed, with the said headphones and Walkman playing Eddie’s ‘Love’ mixtape. The first song that started to play was, “No One Like You” from Scorpions. Which was the first song Eddie introduced me to since I asked him if I were a song, what would it be.
That’s strange, why would this be the first song to a mixtape named Love for me, for my birthday.
“There’s no one like you, I can’t wait for the nights with you.”
“I imagine the things we do.”
“I just wanna be loved by you.”
I blinked. I continued to listen carefully, trying to understand and comprehend the lyrics as best I could. Does this mean what I think it means. I had to listen to the rest of the playlist. Was he showing me all the romantic rock songs cause he’d think I’d like it? So many thoughts were running through my head and before I could continue to spiral, Eddie opened the door to check in on me.                “So...what did you think...?” He said still fidgeting with his silver rings. I looked up to see him make his way to the bed, taking a seat. “I did like it...I’m just wondering why you added ‘No One Like You’ by the Scorpions knowing that I already have their song taped?” I said confused and Eddie just chuckles from the question.
“Why am I not surprised for how oblivious you are” he said holding his stomach with more of his giggles leaving his mouth. “Huh??” I questioned even more confused.
“Did you listen to the lyrics?” He said and I just nodded. “Well, hell, it’s how I feel about you, dork.” He said with an even larger toothy grin than he has ever had before. My body froze, blinking ever so slightly and my blood rushed towards my cheeks. Eddie only sat patiently and silently waiting for a response watching the way my eyes darted with thoughts and memories playing behind my eyes.
Finally looking up stars in my eyes and slow grin rising on my face. I lunged to Eddie, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, giving him a huge hug. I felt the way Eddies chest moved as he giggled from the contact, and I continued to lay on his chest with my arms tightly hanging on.
“Oh Eddie..I’ve felt the same way since you first spoke to me!” I whispered into his shoulder burring my face into his hair taking in his wooden cologne. His hands were lightly resting on each side of my waist.
He finally propped himself up making me somehow manage to find my way sitting on his thigh and continued to snuggle into his shoulder. “Is it...alright if I kissed you, sweetheart?” Eddie asked softly placing his calloused fingers on my chin, bring it up to make eye contact with him. “Yes...” I said leaning into his lips and our lips synced with one another.
Bonus:
               After the sweet confession, Eddie promised me on a date to go to the aquarium that was just a couple miles away since I’ve been begging to see it with someone. I couldn’t have been more ecstatic, and we went back to the living room to continue watching the movie as his large hands wrapped around my body snuggling in my soft body. Slowly after falling asleep together on the couch.
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iliektehhaxs · 3 months
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Sweet Knowing
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Summary: Cid becomes aware of the attention you seem to draw from a certain Rosfield, and uses it to his advantage.
Warnings: implied voyeurism, p in v actions, 18+ MDNI
This is the second part to this, but can be read on its own.
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Cid can be called a slew of things; Lord Commander, Dominant of Ramuh, Outlaw—but one thing he cannot be called, is a fool.
When he found the young Rosfield in the wastelands he felt his heart tug at the display; of a man beaten and broken, only to find that his mission was to kill his childhood friend, one he thought dead long ago. He didn’t think twice about recruiting him to the cause, bringing him to The Hideaway and giving him a rundown of his plans to free bearers from their lot in life. He offered the boy a hot meal and a warm bath, or rather his beloved did.
When word got around that there was a newcomer she was ready to accommodate him. Bright-eyed and friendly, you had offered him whatever was needed to make him feel at home.
“Gods, your clothes are filthy!” You gasped, scanning Clive from head to toe, shaking your head at the muddied state of his armor. “I’ll run to the markets tomorrow and get you some more suitable attire, I can’t let you sleep in armor.”
“Thank you ma’am, but there’s no need—“ he began, only to be stopped by your stern gaze.
“Nonsense. You’re a part of our merry band and I won’t have you sleeping in iron and steel. Now, when’s the last time you had a hot meal?”
Despite his protests you wouldn’t take no for an answer, offering Clive a handkerchief to wipe his face as you ran towards the kitchens to make your own stew for the war-weary traveler.
Cid noticed it when you set the plate full of soup in front of him, how Clive had gotten just the slightest bit nervous around you. He was already the quiet type but this was a different kind of quiet, as if he was afraid of saying something he shouldn’t. Subtle to anyone else, but not to him.
Intrigued, Cid didn’t say a word, only watched in amusement as the former Lord ate by the spoonful, thanking you profusely.
That same night you offered to give him a tour of what would be his new home. Clive had initially declined, afraid of taking advantage of your generosity, and it was only with a firm hand on his shoulder and encouragement from Cid that he accepted.
“Come now, the nice lady’s offered, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would you?” He grins, waving a hand at your expectant form. “Promise she won’t bite.”
He finishes with a wink before pushing Clive a step forward, watching as he follows behind her like a lost puppy.
Let’s see how far this schoolyard crush goes.
The answer, he’d find out, is very far. Weeks have gone by and Clive still looks at you entranced, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend time with you. Just a minute ago you had offered for him to accompany you to gather some flowers, Tarja needing them for one reason or another, and Cid had never seen the man so eager to leave.
He watches the interaction from a secluded corner, a cigar between his lips, relishing in the view. Your doe-like eyes fluttering, the young Rosarian struggling to keep eye contact—the boy was a fool for you. Not that he could blame him, just looking at you made Cid’s heart jump in his chest, fondly remembering how nervous he was when he asked you to be his.
You were far too pretty, too humble, practically a walking angel and he was…him. He had his faults, but you, you were faultless, despite how many times you tried to convince him you weren’t. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him because as far as Cid was concerned you were perfection personified, and nothing you’d say would change his mind.
His thoughts are broken when you notice his secluded form, the smallest wink being sent his way before returning to your conversation with Clive.
Well, you did have one fault; You could be a bit of a tease.
He still remembers what you told him days ago before he had to leave for an excursion. You kissed him goodbye before his mission, words as sweet as honey, only to whisper pure filth in his ears when no one was watching.
“Come back safe and I might give you a reward.”
He did not miss how your fingers wandered down his shirt for the briefest of moments, before pulling away enticingly.
He doesn’t think he’s ever completed a mission that fast before, or so effectively. Tarja was stunned to find not so much as a hair out of place considering his reputation for getting hurt, but Cid was too busy thinking about just how you would reward him for his efforts. The thought of it made him impatient, made him want to drag you away and keep you all to himself, but he could wait a while longer. You’d be back by tonight, and then he’d have you all to himself.
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“Always so eager…” He murmurs against your lips, keeping you pressed into the sheets. Slow, sensual, he holds you close as he fucks you, taking his time to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw go slack.
Your legs close around his waist, pulling him ever further into your wet heat—he could never get used to how good you feel, how quickly you surrender yourself to him. He grinds himself harder against you, listening with pride when you whine his name.
“I missed you so much,” he sighs. “Missed me too, didn’t you?”
You nod shakily, unable to speak. He breathes you in, his hands touching every expanse of your skin from your hips to your breasts, unable to stop himself. His fingers hold firm against your pliant body, the smallest tremble moving through you when he presses himself deeper into your heat.
You cast a spell on him, a lust that borders on insanity. You clench against him so tightly like you never want him to leave, nails leaving angry lines against his back that he’ll be sure to be proud of in the morning. The slight sting only motivates him further, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
“That’s it,” he groans into your ear. “Don’t think, just feel, feel what you do to me.”
It’s in that moment that he hears the soft tapping of someone outside his door. Footsteps? This late into the night?
Stopping doesn’t so much as cross his mind—whatever it is cannot be more important than you.
His assault against your senses continues, hitting that soft spot that has you arch your back and moan his name like a whore.
“Gods, Cid…”
He unravels you, he keeps you whole, he takes your sanity and brings you to new heights all at the same time. The whiplash is dizzying, not sure if you should cry or beg for more.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasps, pride in his voice. “Lay back and take it, just like that—“
His heart beats faster when you let out an even louder noise, squirming against his length. So good, so fucking perfect, you’re a dream, one he never wishes to wake from.
He moves with a practiced ease, focused on your pleasure, but also towards the door, distinctly aware of his midnight visitor. There were footsteps coming towards the door but none leaving it—whoever’s there is still listening.
An idea springs forth, feeling just the slightest bit mischievous.
Might as well give them a show.
His brings his thumb to your clit, circling it ever so slightly, teasing the hard nub and watching as you’re reduced to a mess before his very eyes. Mouth open and eyes lidded, you whimper under his commanding touch, begging for more.
“So good, so good, oh gods—please don’t stop—“ You cry, shaking against him. Your legs are barely able to hold onto him, a brutal pace being set and yet you beg him for more.
How could he resist when you ask him so nicely?
So he indulges you, and this time you really can’t keep up, trying and failing to match his rhythm but your poor abused body just can’t, no matter how badly you want to. Cid grabs you by the hips with both hands and presses you flush to him, practically breathing each other’s air. Between the scrape of the bed and the slap of skin against skin, Cid can faintly make out a muffled groan.
The tone is strikingly familiar.
He can’t help the wicked grin painted on his face.
He slows down, just enough to bring your attention back to him as he whispers against your neck.
“Do you hear that? We have an audience.”
Eyes glazed, you slowly gather your bearings before looking at him in confusion. “What are you—“
“Shhh,” he silences you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “It seems like a certain Rosarian has come to visit us.”
He grinds himself against you, your own sound of pleasure being followed by the softest grunt from outside the door. Your head turns, finally realizing with wide eyes.
“Is that—“
“It is,” he moves slowly against you, making sure to keep you pleasured but coherent. “I could tell him to leave, if that’s what you wish.”
He knows you better than you know yourself, so it’s no surprise to him when you shake your head.
“Keep going, please.”
The moment you give him permission he’s back to fucking you, thumb moving against your sensitive nub once more. You keen for him, louder and louder as he chases your lips impatiently, swallowing your moans with his tongue. When he pulls away he growls against your lips, eyes pinning you on the spot.
“Like being listened to? Like the idea of him knowing how desperate you are?”
You shake your head, but the way you tighten up tells another tale.
“Don’t lie to me, I know you do, it’s okay,” He coos, his own high slowly approaching. “You don’t think I see how he looks at you? How you’re so eager to let him follow you around?”
You shake your head ready to deny the accusation. The moment you do Cid’s movements slow to a crawl, holding you right on the edge, tantalizingly close to falling apart.
“Don’t, please move—“ He refuses when you beg, tears welling in your eyes as your pussy throbs for release, a release Cid holds you back from.
“What did I say my dear?” He breathes. “Don’t lie to me.”
You whimper, begging for mercy once again. “I promise, just, please don’t stop, need you to fuck me—”
Cid’s grin is nothing short of sinful. “Need me, or need us?”
The notion makes your heart stop, a shocked expression painting your face. And yet he can feel your velvety walls spasm around him, answer clear as day.
He laughs, breath heaving. “You do, don’t you? Want us to fuck you, treat you like the needy little whore you are—“
He’s moving again, even faster now. This time you can’t even bring yourself to lie, a broken mess below him. Half-uttered sentences and broken moans, too far gone to care about anything except how fucking good you feel.
You scream, and Cid hears a thump outside the door.
Hope he’s enjoying himself.
He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you go for even a second. “Fuck—say it, say you want us, fucking say it—“
“Yes—I want it, please—!”
Your cunt is so welcoming, he feels like he’s going to go mad. He gives his all and then some, relishes in how fucking tight you hold onto him, gushing around him.
“There’s my girl, come on, let go for me—“ He grunts into your skin, shuddering as his own release takes hold of him.
You look glorious, spread out before him. Even when you look fucked within an inch of your life he can’t help but admire what a fucking sight you are. He doesn’t stop, keeps going even though he’s so sensitive it’s downright painful, if only to squeeze out a few more seconds of your orgasm. Your sobs threaten to wake the entire Hideaway but he just can’t bring himself to stop.
“Yesyesyes, so good, I can’t—fuck—I can’t—“
“Yes you fucking can,” Cid interrupts in awe. “Be good and let me see you stain the sheets love.”
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malarkgirlypop · 6 months
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He's the Boss Part 1(Bull Randleman x F!Reader)
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Guys I don't know how I feel about this. Ah! There is a second part, yay, but let me if this one is good. If it's not I can write another one. IDK ahh having imposter syndrome. I feel like it's not good, which makes me sad. I was so excited for the story. I feel bad if it's trash cause I hyped it up. Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to the people involved.
I stifle my laughter seeing Perconte’s small figure clinging onto the back of Bull. Poor Perco got shot in the ass, and George owed me a fiver. I made my way over to the radio-man already grinning at him. He rolled his eyes knowing what I was smiling about. 
“I’m not making any more bets with you Y/N!” He huffed, coughing up the cash. I pocketed it with a chuckle. 
“You say that every time Luz!” I told him. 
“What can I say, I'm a gambling man.” He grinned at me, as I gave him a playful elbow. He slapped me on the back as we walked to the house we made our base. We were all weary from the long stay in Bastogne, it was one of the hardest stints I’ve had in the paratroopers. We lost a lot of good men. However there was some relief, we had finally taken Foy. Which was one of the attacks we had been dreading for a while. I think we were all ready for a break but it wasn’t to be, ordered to go forth and take more towns that the Germans occupied. But for tonight we finally had a roof over our head and some proper shelter from the freezing cold. 
We made our way into the house, the men quickly claiming their spots on the floor with their gear. Luz fortunately was thoughtful enough to save me a spot beside him. 
“How’s your ass Perco?” I asked as we stepped over the man who was lying on the floor being tended to by Gene. 
“Never had any complaints!” He retorted quickly, sending Luz and I into hysterics. Bull rested next to him, keeping him company. I straighten. “Sir.” I said, clearing my throat. He glanced at me unamused at my antics. 
The Sergeant had never liked me. I’m not sure why, maybe because I mucked around with Luz all the time. I was serious when I needed to be but more often than not I was getting into mischief. Bull had never said anything to me or scolded me. But his disappointed stare was all he needed to send in my direction to send me running with my tail between my legs. He intimidated me. someone that large was intimidating, he didn’t have to say a thing. 
“Give me your smokes, Y/N.” George nudged me as we got comfy on the floor. 
“No way! People pay good money for these!” I shook my head. I didn’t smoke like everyone else, which meant I could use the packs to my advantage. I would trade and sell them to the other men when they ran out. I had gotten a lot of neat things by trading my packs. But George, who smoked like a chimney, was always bugging me for freebies. 
“Oh come on Y/N!” He pouted. 
“Fine! Fine! You’re a dick you know that.” He grinned happily as I handed him one of the hoarded packs I had in my bag. Picking one out he quickly lit it, puffing away. He offered me the smoke to which I shook my head. 
“Where do you think Bull gets all his Cigars? I mean those aren’t part of the ration packs are they?” I asked, watching the man, he always had a cigar hanging from his lips. It always baffled me where they came from.
“Eh, I don’t know, never thought about it.” George shrugged. 
“George, you don’t think about anything.” I said knocking on his skull proving my point that it was empty up there. 
I watched Bull curiously. He was one of the quieter men in the company. He liked to sit and watch, rather than join in on the shenanigans. But whenever he did speak everyone hung on his every word. Even if it was only one comment it would be the funniest comment of the whole night. That would have everyone keeling over in laughter. He would just grin. When I first met the man I assumed he would be a brute, a man of that stature was surely big and scary. But he was kind and soft spoken in his thick country accent. No one really took too kindly to me though in the beginning, I was a replacement, and a female one at that. They all avoided me, scattered when I walked into a conversation, like I was infectious. After weeks of trying to prove my worth to the original Easy company men, I had befriended George. Well I say befriend, he says bribe. If he talked to me for more than a couple of sentences I would give him some smokes. So at first he would only talk to me to get smokes, but he found that we were similar and had become good friends. Always joking and laughing. He still says he only hangs out with me for the free smokes. But it’s ok I have him trained well. Bull was one of the ones who still hadn’t warmed up to me, I seemed to be able to make friends with the rest of the men. But the tall man was an enigma. If he was so kind and gentle, why did he dislike me so?     
************* 
Gun fire pelted down on our position as we crouched behind a rock wall. Every time I poked my head up to see if the cost was clear the shooting would start again. 
“Goddammit they got us pinned.” I yelled over the noise to the men I hid with. 
We needed to move forward into the town for this attack to be successful. It was currently not going the way we had planned. 
“Shifty!” I called our sharpshooter over to help me. 
“I need you to take out that sniper!” He nodded looking over the wall, only for us to flinch back as the machine gun fired on our position. 
“I can’t, not with him firing at us like this!” I sighed, racking my brain for a way we could distract them. 
“You’ve had an idea.” Shifty said, watching my face as if he had seen the mental light bulb go off in my brain. 
“Don’t let him shoot me Shifty!” I said to him, he gave me a curt nod. I shuffled my way to the end of the wall, I took a deep breath. I stood up from my position, sprinting forward. The sniper was on me in seconds, bullets landing close to me, I could feel them whooshing past my face. Anytime now Shifty. I thought as I ran as fast as I could, the sniper barely missing me each time. I looked back over my shoulder to our original position, I could see Shifty but he wasn’t shooting. He motioned to one of the other men for another gun. Oh shit! Not looking where I was going, I stumbled, falling forward onto my hands and knees. Oh fuck! I was now a sitting duck, fun fact it’s easier to hit a still target than a moving one, which right now I currently am. I groaned out in pain as one of the bullets finally hit its target, lodging itself in my arm. 
“Y/N!” I heard booming across the open field. “Get your ass moving!” Bull and his men hunched behind a broken down car. I got to my feet, making my way quickly over to where Bull was. The Sniper was hot on my tail, hitting the ground I had just left behind me. So close, so close! I dove forward, careening into Bull’s open arms. He caught me, but the force at which I flew was stronger than we both expected, as we fell back in a heap on the ground. I panted, my lungs burned from the effort. I sighed in relief at being safe again. I pushed myself off of the man, clearing my throat in an awkward way. 
“Thank you Sarge!” I said straightening myself, and putting my helmet back on my head. 
“What the hell were you thinking private, are you trying to get yourself killed?” Bull yelled angrily at me. My eyes widened. I don’t think I have ever heard him use that tone of voice with anyone. I flushed with embarrassment. 
“I was just a distraction for Shifty.” I replied, my voice slightly shaky. 
“Don’t ever do that again, you hear!” He reprimanded me. I nodded my head, tears welling in my eyes. It was one thing to be told off, but to be scolded by the Sergeant that never raised his voice at anyone, was humiliating. 
“We’re moving out, Y/N you’re with us now!” I didn’t have time to be upset, we were in the middle of an assault, for christ sake. I took a breath, gathering my thoughts. I followed behind Bull’s team of men. 
The assault was a success. I had found Shifty afterwards to ask him what had happened. His gun got jammed, he did eventually get the sniper with someone else's gun. We finally had cleaned up the town and were getting ready for the night. 
“Y/N I heard you were up to no good today. Being told off by Bull.” George grinned at me punching me in the shoulder. 
“OW!” I flinched away holding my arm, George laughed, then realised the tears in my eyes. 
“Oh shit, Y/N are you ok?” He looked concerned, tears spilling down my cheeks. 
“I got shot, I forgot. I had so much adrenaline, I guess I didn’t feel the pain.” We had been so busy, and I was so caught up in my own head about Bull yelling at me I completely forgot I had been injured.  
“You forgot? Medic!” George looked shocked. Gene rushed over quickly, as everyone also looked. It was late in the evening to declare a wound. 
“What happened?” Gene asked, also confused. 
“She got shot and apparently forgot.” George tells the medic. 
“Come on.” Gene moves me to a more private room, away from everyone else. I take off my jacket and top, leaving me in my white t-shirt. I lift the sleeve to expose the wound. I look down at my arm which is covered in dried blood down to my wrist. The bullet hole itself looked red and angry, a perfect circle had been punched into my skin. 
“The bullet is still in there.” Gene said as he assessed the laceration. “I have to get it out, or it could cause infection. It’s going to hurt.” I nodded defeated. I watched him pick up big tweezers, and my stomach dropped. I turned away when he moved towards the wound with the instrument. Not wanting to see him plunge them into my skin. I winced, trying my best not to make any noise. I bite on my lip, trying to remain as still as possible for the medic. I gripped onto my leg, digging my nails into my flesh. My eyes shot open when I felt my hand being taken off my leg and squeezed. To my surprise Bull sat in front of me clasping my hand in his. It caught me so off guard I forgot I was trying to be quiet. 
“AHH.” I yelped as I felt Gene twisted the tweezers in my skin. I gripped onto Bull’s hand tightly. 
“Sorry Y/N, almost there, you’re doing good.” Gene muttered as he concentrated. 
“Breath, Y/N!” Bull ordered, I hadn’t noticed but I was holding my breath as Gene worked. I gulped in air. Bull nodded, reassuring me. My cheeks were wet with my tears. 
“Got it!” I heard the bullet clatter into the metal kidney dish Gene had with him. I sigh with relief, thankful the ordeal was over. He finished the dressing, leaving Bull and I in the room by ourselves. I didn’t speak, feeling awkward. 
“Y/N I wanted to apologise for today.” Bull started, in his low country drawl. It was so smooth and silky, I’m sure if he read me a bedtime story I would be asleep in seconds. 
“I only reacted like that because I was concerned.” I laughed, his brows furrowed with my reaction. 
“You were concerned about me?” I asked unsure if I had heard him correctly. 
“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?” He asked, genuinely confused. 
“Well, you hate me.” His eyebrows shot up, surprised by my accusation. 
“I don’t hate you. Who told you that?” He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees. He looks pissed. 
“No-no one, I just thought.” Saying this out loud to him now makes me feel stupid. 
“You just thought what?” He squints at me, tilting his head for emphasis. 
“You always glare at me.” I defend myself. “And you don’t talk to me.” 
“You avoid me!” He counteracts. “You run away from me.” 
“Well because…” He waits for my answer. 
“I think there has been some miscommunication between us, don’t you think?” I nod. 
“Well Y/N I can tell you now I certainly don’t hate you, in fact I quite like you. You’re good for the men, especially George, someone needs to keep him on a leash.” My mouth falls open, never in a million years would I have expected those words to come from Bull’s mouth. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I will admit I was weary of you in the beginning. But that was because you were a replacement and the men we have had in the past have not been the best soldiers. You on the other hand, you did good.” I felt my face flush, I wanted to pinch my cheek, surely I was dreaming. Bull’s laughter shocked me, big and booming it filled the small room we sat in. It was rich in tone, just like his voice. I liked his laugh. 
“Don’t look so shocked, darling!” He chuckles, he pulls his gun from the floor, opening the butt of it. From the compartment he pulls his signature cigar, he lights it, inhaling deeply as it glows a cherry red. He blows out the smoke, leaning back in his chair. 
“I think I’ve sent you into shock.” He joked, pulling me from my surprise. 
“I just-I don’t think I have heard you speak so much in one go.” He laughs again, a smile forms on his lips. My heart fluttered, it felt nice to make him laugh. 
************* 
“Y/N get off George, the poor man can’t breathe.” Bull said from behind me, he had walked in on me attacking George, poking him in his sides until he couldn’t breath from laughing. He had been teasing me insistently about Babe having a crush on me. Babe did not have a crush on me. We were friendly and that’s all it was, but George liked to wind me up. I stood up giving Bull a toothy grin as he shook his head, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 
“Bull, thank god you came, I thought she was about to kill me.” I sent a look to George, it wasn’t a threat but a promise that I would get him again if he wasn’t careful.    
“Look at her, those eyes, she’s a killer I tell you.” George pointed at me. Bull chuckled. 
After I had figured out that Bull in fact did not hate me like I suspected, we turned into close friends. We were polar opposites but we worked well together. I was a chatter-box and he was a listener. But I could get him to say more than any of the other men in the company could. He had the most interesting stories. I would listen intently as he spoke, sometimes getting distracted, just listening to his voice. His velvety rich accent always gave me goosebumps, so I would get him to talk as much as I could just so I could hear him speak. I found that he was just a big teddy bear. Very country boy, raised on manners and good faith. I liked to call him Ferdinand the bull off of the cartoon of the sweet bull who would rather sit and smell flowers than fight. It perfectly encapsulated the Sergeant. He was so gentle in everything he did. I didn’t want to admit it but I had grown quite attached to him, and differently to the other men of Easy. I made all the men laugh all the time, sure it felt good. But when Bull laughed at my jokes, I felt giddy. When he smiled at me my heart fluttered. I have never felt this from anyone. But I was sure it was just because I looked up to him, and not literally. He was my boss so of course I wanted to impress him. 
“Bull, we are going to one of the pub’s tonight are you coming?” I sidled up to the man as he walked. His eyes flick down to look at me, as he puffs on his cigar. I smiled up at him. 
“Sure I will, just because you asked.” I grin, I hold onto his arm giving it a squeeze. 
“Alright, get to your task, Y/N.” He shoos me away with a small smirk. 
“Yes Sir.” He laughs as I salute him walking away. 
“Is he coming?” George asks from behind me, I turn, nodding my head. “See I told you he would come if you asked!” He wiggles his eyebrows. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I scoff mocking offence. 
“Oh please, you two are smitten with each other!” I glare at him, as he stares at me with wide eyes. 
“George you think I’m smitten with everyone, five minutes ago you said that Babe and I had something with each other.” I point out to him as we walk to help with the stock take. 
“But I actually mean it with you and Bull. I have seen the way you two look at each other.” He pouts, fluttering his eyelashes, pretending to be me. I shake my head, shoving him. 
“Ok if it's about how we look at each other, then you and that hershey bar you were eating the other day were totally in love.” I mimic the way he ate the bar, moaning with each bite. 
“You’re not wrong, that hershey bar really rocked my world.” He grinned at me. 
“You’re gross.” But we crack up laughing.   
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thenightling · 4 months
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I just left a Facebook group called Hekate's Children because it posted a meme about how you can cast spells by smoking a cigarette.
I know cigars and tabaco come up a lot in Voodoo / hoodoo but this group is supposedly Greek-Pagan. The Ancient Greeks didn't even have cigarettes yet. The Cigarette didn't exist until the sixteenth century. It had nothing to do with Hecate.
Also most of the meme just felt like wildly inaccurate "smoke a cigarette and you'll feel better." crap.
And there were so many pro-smoking comments acting like this was some great revelation.
As I lost my mother to throat cancer when she was only forty-one I have no tolerance for that crap. I should have shared the meme to the Trailer Park Pagans group.
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katzenmas · 3 months
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Outlander
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── This idea came to me in a vision while i was rewatching the show. This first chapter is more of an introduction because the reader (SPOILER AHEAD) hasn't travelled back in time yet. I wanted to get this chapter out of the way as soon as possible so i can start writing the more interesting ones hehe. This fic will be a Johnny Soap MacTavish X Reader, but you are technically married to Graves in this chapter. He won't really show up after this unless you're talking about him.
Warnings : Some suggestive dialogue, implied sex. No use of Y/N, Female Reader ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
PART 1 Inverness, 2018 People disappear all the time. Ask any policeman. Better yet, ask a journalist. Young girls run away from home. Children stray from their parents and are never seen again. Housewives reach the end of their tether and take the grocery money and a taxi to the station. International financiers change their names and vanish into the smoke of imported cigars. Many of the lost will be found, eventually, dead or alive. Disappearances, after all, have explanations. The little inn did not look like a place people would disappear in. Mrs. Baird’s looked like any other run down Highland bed and breakfast. With peeling paint and near dead flowers, the smell of cigarette smoke stuck to the walls in the rooms. Mrs. Baird herself almost looked like her inn. In her late sixties, always bustling and talking, still she made no objections when Phillip turned the room she rented us into a second office. His laptop and papers strewn around the desk, walls now had something akin to maps tacked onto them. It was your husband’s great idea to take a second honeymoon trip. Inverness was a strange choice, the setting so different from the one you were used to in Texas. But when Phillip came to you with two plane tickets and news that a one month break was needed, you wouldn’t even dare to turn him down. Walking down the rickety stairs of the inn, you found your husband sitting in an armchair near a fireplace, a book about the Jacobite rebellion in his hands. He looked so peaceful sitting in the maroon chair, the flames from the fire basking him in a soft glow. “How long are you going to stand there and stare at me Mrs. Graves?” your lips quirked up in a smile as you walked over to your husband. He set his book down on a coffee table and beckoned you to sit across his lap. Your hands found their home looped around his neck and he smoked into your collarbone. “I don’t know Mr. Graves, you make a fine subject for staring, maybe I’ll never stop” you giggled and ran your hands through his hair. The sudden quietness behind you two told you that Mrs. Baird has put down her broom and was covertly watching you. While golf and fishing are Scotland’s most popular outdoor sports, gossip is the most popular indoor sport. And when it rains as much as it does in Scotland, people spend a lot of time indoors. “She’s staring again” You mumbled and Phillip donned a devilish grin. Suddenly he hoisted you up and ran the length of the stairs to your room. The sudden change made giggles erupt from your mouth as you clutched tighter to him. ‘“What in god’s name are you doing!” You yelled at him through fits of your giggles and your husband threw you down on the bed, before getting on it himself. He was halfway sitting up, with his knees digging into the mattress and he smiled at you. “I’d hate for the dear old thing to be disappointed in us,” he answered. Sitting up on the side of the ancient bed, he bounced gently up and down, creating a piercing rhythmic squeak. The footsteps in the hall stopped abruptly. After a minute or two of bouncing, Phillip gave a loud, theatrical groan and collapsed backward with a twang of protesting springs. You giggled helplessly into a pillow, so as not to disturb the breathless silence outside. Phillip waggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re supposed to moan ecstatically, not giggle,” he admonished in a whisper. “She’ll think I’m not a good lover.” “You’ll have to keep it up for longer than that, if you expect ecstatic moans,” You answered. “Two minutes doesn’t deserve any more than a giggle.” “Inconsiderate little wench. I came here for a rest, remember?”
“Lazybones. You’ll never manage the next branch on your family tree unless you show a bit more industry than that.” Both of you chuckled as Phillip moved to lay next to you, bringing his hand around your middle and squishing you closer to his chest. That’s how sleep found you, being held close by your husband’s strong arms as his rhythmic heartbeat slowly lulled you into sweet sleep. The rustling sounds of your husband getting dressed stirred you from your dreams. You slowly sat up in the bed and stretched, the downpour outside has finally stopped which meant you two would be walking around town tonight. “ Let’s stop at that pub from yesterday. That might’ve been the best salmon I’ve ever eaten” Phillip noticed that you woke up and started making plans about today’s escapades. First you were going to meet some tour guide that would drive you two to some historical sites and then back to Inverness. “I distinctly heard the barman at that pub last night refer to us as Sassenachs.”
“Well, why not?” said Phillip. “It only means ‘Englishman,’ after all, or at worst, ‘outlander,’ and we’re all of that.”
“I know what it means. It was the tone I objected to.” Phillip searched through the bureau drawer for a belt. “He was just annoyed because I told him the ale was weak. I told him the true Highland brew requires an old boot to be added to the vat, and the final product to be strained through a well-worn undergarment.”
“Ah, that accounts for the amount of the bill.”
“Well, I phrased it a little more tactfully than that, but only because the Gaelic language hasn’t got a specific word for drawers.”
You reached for a pair of your own underwear, intrigued. “Why not? Did the ancient Gaels not wear undergarments?”
Phillip leered. “You’ve never heard that old song about what a Scotsman wears beneath his kilts?”
“ No and I’d rather not hear about it now. Off to the bath you go, the stench of the fire still clings to your hair” You playfully messed with it and your husband smiles, cupping your face in his hand and kissing your brow.
“Only if you join me”
The walk to the town square was a bit hard, dull ache between your thighs after Phillip decided to fuck you senseless in the shower, was making itself known. Taking small steps you idly window-shopped. Your husband was on the phone, talking to the tour guide when your eyes caught sight of a vase. It looked tacky, the colors were bright and the shape was a bit lopsided but the drawing depicted on the vase itself was beautiful. A myriad of large stones in a valley, the sunset drawn behind it was basking the stone in a soft glow.
Soon you found yourself meeting Phillip at the crossing of the High Street and the Gereside Road and you turned up the road together. He raised his eyebrows at your purchases.
“Vases?” He smiled. “Wonderful. Perhaps now you’ll stop putting flowers in my books.”
“They aren’t flowers, they’re specimens. And it was you who suggested I take up botany. To occupy my mind, now that I’ve not got nursing to do,” You reminded him.
“True.” He nodded good-humoredly. “But I didn’t realize I’d have bits of greenery dropping out into my lap every time I opened a reference. What was that horrible crumbly brown stuff you put in Tuscum and Banks?”
“Groutweed. Good for hemorrhoids.”
“Preparing for my imminent old age, are you? Well, how very thoughtful of you.” You two laughed as suddenly a small green car stopped in front of you. The man in the driver’s side seat looked no more than fifty. Big rimmed glasses sat atop his small nose, wild curly hair had bits of gray in it and you noticed one golden tooth as he sent a smile your way.
“ Mr. and Mrs. Graves! Pleasure to meet ya, I’m Colm I’ll be takin’ ye to Craigh Na Dun”
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callsign-bunnie · 1 year
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I don’t know if you’re still doing the ask thing but I’d love to see your head canons for Aledolfo’s wedding
I am always accepting asks lol. Also, I don’t know much about any kind of wedding other than American (and even so, barely, because mine was fantasy themed) so if anyone knows more than me (very likely) please correct me in the replies! 
--
It was a fairly large wedding
Alejandro likes to show off when he’s proud of something (ie bagging Rodolfo) and Rodolfo is a huge romantic. Plus all of their Vaquero children
Shockingly, though, Alejandro planned most of it. Rodolfo told him what he wanted and Alejandro did the rest.
TF 141 was invited
Price and Laswell cried like proud parents the whole time
Ghost gave them a very ornate dagger for a wedding gift for, and I quote, “slicing anyone who comes between you”
Soap got them matching watches because my mans is a default gift buyer. If the box says “gift” he will buy it and hope for the best
Valeria shockingly showed up and said “finally”. Didn’t give them a gift, said her presence was enough.
Gaz actually was fairly thoughtful with his gift, paying for one of those wedding painters to come and paint their wedding.
Price gave Alejandro a box of cigars and Rodolfo a firm pat on the back
Laswell got them a nice bed set, because “well, my wife and I wore ours out so it would have been nice to have a back up”. Alejandro was embarrassed but grateful. Rodolfo had to be explained what that meant, later, because he spent a good twenty minutes genuinely believing Laswell did not wash her sheets or change them frequently and was working up how to tell her she needed to do that.
Rodolfo’s social battery wore out fairly quickly so he and Alejandro mostly danced after a bit, which everyone understood and respected
Lots of dancing (obviously)
They have a ridiculous amount of photos, ranging from cute ones to pictures of them all ridiculously drunk (even Soap)
They made a scrapbook with them, together.
Soap was in charge of the rings and almost lost them. (Twice) Alejandro and Rodolfo do not know
Gaz was dragged around with Soap to find them and both were AFRAID
Rodolfo had a very very small “if my wedding doesn’t go exactly how it is planned, I will cry and kill everyone” moment so Soap and Gaz did not want to take chances
Alejandro had that faze the whole damn planning process though so Soap and Gaz doubly did not want to take chances with the damn rings
Alejandro might have started to kill people if things hadn’t gone according to plan, he was very high strung during the process
Rodolfo didn’t mind because he was getting laid almost every night and he never minds getting laid
Alejandro cried three times and they were all for dumb reasons but everyone is trying to encourage each other to stop being so emotionally stunted so they didn’t say anything about it
Alejandro also cried during the ceremony but those were happy tears. (Rodolfo cried too but he was more discreet about it)
All in all, everyone looks back on it as an incredibly happy day
A few people told Soap and Ghost they were next. This is doubly funny if you headcanon them as not together, yet
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