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golden-cherry · 3 months

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deal - cl16 (23/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.

Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

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A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!

Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head.

"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."

Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."

Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."

"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile.

"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"

As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook.

"I didn't think she'd call you."

She?

"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."

Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there.

You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.

"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."

"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Maman -"

"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"

"Maman -"

"She could go public with it!"

"Maman -"

"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"

"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."

As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"

Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."

Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"

You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.

"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."

Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."

"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him.

"Pasta e pollo sounds great."

Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."

"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.

"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.

"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"

He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."

You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."

He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."

You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"

He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."

"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."

His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it.

"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"

Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.

You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.

"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it.

"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."

"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."

"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud.

Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."

"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair.

"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line.

"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"

"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.

"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."

His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.

"Our apartment," you repeat softly.

"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."

"What's that?"

"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."

The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?

"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better.

"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"

The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."

The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.

He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well.

"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."

Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room.

Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -

"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together."

"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?"

"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little.

"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."

You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."

His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -

"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you.

Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together."

When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do.

You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy.

Together. Together. Together.

You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.

What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?

Together. Together. Together.

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

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No one else but you

Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader

Summary: You and Price broke up months ago after a bad fight and you're still reeling from it. You're utterly heartbroken, but with the less that great wisdom of your friends, you decided to try and jump into another relationship to solve the hurt - one that was bad from the beginning. Will Price showing back up in your life get you out of it? Or will you be left with no one at all.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Angst with a happy ending, fluff, cheating boyfriend (not price), Smut (no mention of reader genitals), soft dom!Price, nickname Daddy used, pinning down, dirty talk, praise

-💘-

Realistically you knew that you’d see John Price again one day, you just hated that it had to be that day. That day that you were on a date with your new boyfriend. The day after you’d just made things official. Pretty much right after you'd just gotten on at said boyfriend for distracting himself with his phone the whole time. Now you were the one that was distracted.

You and Reid hadn’t been dating long, just barely a month and half. You’d asked the night before about where he saw things going and then somewhere along the way in that conversation he asked if you brought it up because you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Then you supposed that’s why you did ask, and said yes, and he’d agreed to it.

Of course you’d felt kind of happy about it at the time, but now - after locking eyes with your ex, who offered you a crinkly eyed smile before turning to the barista - you felt like there was a pit in your stomach. It was as if your belly was made of lead. Had you made the right decision?

“Hello, are you listening to me?” Reid laughed, waving his hand in front of your face. “Weekend plans. Next weekend. Selena’s cabin. Need a yes or a no. She’s messaging me about it and you were the one that just ranted to me about how I wasn’t paying attention to you.”

“Hmm? Sorry, what?” you asked, resuming eye contact with your boyfriend. “Where’s the cabin again? Who’s Selena?”

It was so unfair, you thought to yourself. Why was Price here now? You’d figured after being deployed he’d be away for a long time, but slowly you came to realise that it had been ages since you’d seen him. 3 months in fact.

And now he was there in the cafe, standing in line for a tea you presumed, looking as handsome as ever. His beard had been allowed to grow, he’d probably not had time to trim it, it was longer and even in length. His eyes looked weary and his hair was messy, probably from running his hands through it too much, you thought, and you bit your lip as you noticed he was wearing that shirt you liked. The worn green linen button up, with a pristine white T-shirt underneath of course.

“Do you know that man or something?”

You jumped when Reid pulled you out of your daze yet again, and suddenly all the bluebirds and butterflies were out of your field of vision. You’re opened up to the reality of the coffee shop, all the whirring and buzzing machines and emphatic chatter of all the tables around you. It was as if a spell had been broken.

You gulped awkwardly and shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Sorry, yeah…that’s my ex,” you explain with a sigh.

Even then, even while you were with someone else, you still hurt over the way things had been left. That should’ve been a bad sign, one that meant you weren’t supposed to be moving on so soon, but whenever you talked to anyone about it they just said you needed to move on and ‘shag it out your system’ - whatever that meant. John didn’t feel like the kind of man that anyone could just forget about, even when it was you that broke things off in the first place.

“Wait, the soldier guy? The one that you said beat a guy up outside that bar?” Reid marvelled, fastening his eyes to Price’s place in the queue.

“Yeah, him,” you murmured, forgetting that you’d told him about that.

“He doesn’t look like I thought he would,” Reid snorted, watching him wait for his drink. “He’s like an old guy, looks pretty harmless to me.”

You held back the protest that had come to the tip of your tongue like a hot pepper. It wouldn’t do to tell your new man that he’d get flattened by the captain if he got on his bad side - that would be asking for an argument. Instead you bit your lip and watched as Price made his way toward you both, takeaway cup in hand. You were begging whatever deity might be watching over that he wouldn’t linger long.

Though by the looks of things, he’d had a hard time trying to forget about you too. There was something in his eyes, something like relief, that made you feel he was glad to have bumped into you.

He eventually came to a stop next to your table, standing close to your side. You could smell the piney aroma of his aftershave as it rolled off of him - sprayed on to help cover the lingering scent of cigar smoke. It combined with the smell of bitter coffee and sweet cakes and left you dazedly staring at him.

“Hello, there,” he said simply

You gulped, instantly feeling your mouth go dry. What were you supposed to say back? Hello, how are you? No, you had so many other things rushing through your mind you didn’t think to respond with something normal.

Did you think about me while you were away? Did you miss me? Did you finally realise you were wrong to hurt that man so badly just because he’d pushed up against me and called me names when he thought he was supposed to get served at the bar before me? Do you think things could’ve been different afterwards? Could we have talked more and worked it out? I missed you so much, please take me away from here.

“Um…hi,” you said sheepishly, offering him a small smile. “How’ve you been? Did you just get back from deployment?”

“Yeah, just got back on wednesday there. You know how it is when I’m away. Spend the whole time worrying about everyone till we’re back home safe, don’t I?”

He’d tilted his head at you meaningfully, letting you know that he wasn’t just talking about his men. So, you thought, you struggled just as much as me.

“What about you, how’ve you been? And who’s your friend?” he asked, turning his attention toward Reid.

Price narrowed his gaze on your boyfriend and offered his hand, shoulders rolling as he did so. You didn’t miss the way he’d said friend. Apparently Reid didn’t either. Reid took Price’s hand all too willingly and firmly shook it, making eye contact so direct you wondered if he was trying to shoot lasers out of his eyes.

“Yeah, good,” you responded, watching as their handshake carried on a little too long. “This is Reid.”

“The boyfriend,” Reid added, finally snatching his hand back.

Price raised his brows and glanced at you. You could swear that you’d noticed his jaw tick, but nevertheless he smiled and patted your shoulder, his hand warm on you, even through your thick jumper.

“John Price - the ex,” he said to Reid, before turning back to you.“Good to know you’ve had someone looking after ya.”

his lips were quirking as if he’d had to force the words out.

“He uh- has been yes,” you said appeasingly, side-eyeing Reid as he frowned at you. “Someone’s got to!”

You’d laughed awkwardly, tittering away while hoping the interaction would end. Though there was no chance of Price going that easy. He stayed and nodded his head slowly, his eyes narrowing on you as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. Was he thinking of all the times that he’d been the one to look after you?

“Did you get yourself a tea then?” you asked, trying to end the awkward silence and - hopefully - send him on his way, you could ask him to go drink it in peace.

He looked down at it as if he’d forgotten the scalding cup in his hand and back at you, raising the cup just slightly.

“Know me well, love, don’t you?”

Your body all but seized as he resurrected one of his old pet names. You used to preen when he called you love. Now you were choking on your spit - actually genuinely choking.

You wheezed and gasped, quickly taking a drink of your latte to try and ease collapse of your windpipe. It might have settled if not for the fact that he started rubbing your back. That only made the problem worse. You struggled to take in the closeness of him, the warmth, how firm his hand was as he settled it over your spine.

You brushed past him and got up, offering both him and Reid an apologetic smile.

“Don’t know what’s…come over me,” you gasped, trying to find enough air to talk. “I’m just going to go to the toilet quickly!”

And before another word could be said, you rushed off to try and find some peace, desperately trying to avoid all the hustling bustling people around you. This was not good.

-💘-

While you were away, Reid and Price both stared each other down. Left to their own devices they could both drop any pretence they’d kept up while you were around, not that Reid was making much of an effort to try and appear friendly. Though now he was openly glaring at Price, letting him know that he wasn’t welcome. Trying valiantly to scare him away.

Price, meanwhile, was casting a wary eye over this new boyfriend, looking him up and down and not missing the woman’s name on his phone screen. He wasn’t the type of man to deny that men and women could be friends, but something about the way Reid had been messaging whoever it was so intently, rubbed him the wrong way. He looked from the screen and back to Reid, causing the other man to scowl.

“What was that?” Reid all but growled.

“What was what?” Price asked, raising a brow.

“Calling them love and rubbing their back like that! You said it yourself - you’re the ex. Act like it and back off!”

“Ex or not, I want you to know something. I might not be in the picture right now, but I’ll tell you this - you hurt them…and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Reid frowned, about to laugh off his threat when Price gave his rival the same look that he’d used in interrogations- the one that showed that he wasn’t above getting dirty if the situation called for it. It was then that Reid recalled what you’d told him about the fight, about how Price had almost permanently maimed the guy, he had remembered you saying that the man had had his jaw wired shut just to recover from what Price had done to him.

Reid didn’t visibly back down, but he didn’t retort back either. He pursed his lips instead and watched as you bounced back to the table in the background, relieved that you’d recovered sooner rather than later.

-💘-

“Everything ok?” you chirped, sitting back down in your chair.

“Yeah, course,” Price smiled, his eyes turning to those familiar crescent moons that you adored. “What about you? Survived, have you?”

You played with your hands and laughed awkwardly, remembering to swallow before you choked again.

“Yeah, still kicking somehow.”

“Well that’s good to hear. Listen, its been lovely to see you, but I’ll let you two get back to it, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. Just so you know though, if you ever need anything,” Price said, his blue eyes melting into honey, “just give me a ring.”

With that, he winked at you and left, not waiting for your response.

You huffed out a breath, only just realising that it had felt like your lungs had been fit to burst pretty much that entire time and looked over at Reid. He looked like he was going to combust. All the light that had been on his face earlier in the day had died and he looked sulkily down at his phone, angrily tapping a message into it.

“Oh my god, Reid, I’m so sorry about that,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you finally realised what had just happened. “He can be really intense, and I didn’t realise he was going to come barging up to us like that! Anyway,why don’t we get things back on track, what were you saying about going away to a cabin?”

It was Reid’s turn again to blank you now. He continued to type a message to whoever he was talking to and left you in silence, listening to his thumb angrily jamming down on the glass. You tried again and he still didn’t respond, and soon it began to feel like every tap on the screen was a hammer in the nail of your coffin.

-💘-

You had thought you’d resolved that argument that night.

You had spent the whole rest of the outing shuttered out from any conversation with him, only to spend hours when you’d gotten home locked in a bitter fight. He’d said you could’ve backed him up a bit more and made him look less like a fool, and you’d agreed and tried to tell him that you were so overwhelmed you weren’t sure how to react, though you knew you could’ve tried to have handled it better. You just weren’t sure what you would’ve been able to do differently.

There had been some back and fourth for a while, but eventually it was settled when you’d said you’d block him and delete him off of everything and that was the end of that. Or so you had so naively believed.

You’d gone along to the cabin on the Friday of the following weekend and soon it was revealed to you that that hadn’t been the end of things at all.

Everything had started off fine, it had been nice even. You’d all gotten camping chairs and had sat round a big fire drinking and getting to know all of Reid’s friends and were enjoying yourself immensely. However as the night wore on and Reid had gotten drunker and drunker - Price had eventually come up. That’s when everything did a complete 180.

Someone, for some godforsaken reason, had brought up awkward ex stories and Reid jumped at the chance to tell everyone about the coffee shop encounter. He spared no detail in making Price sound like a disgusting lecherous old man, and laughed as he told everyone about how he’d been threatened. A detail he’d forgotten to tell you when you’d had your discussion.

“You didn’t tell me about that,” you’d protested weakly, putting your hand on his thigh. “You should’ve said something. That’s not right that he threatened you.”

He shook his leg from your grip and laughed bitterly, taking another swig of his vodka. Suddenly the taste of the spirit was acrid in your throat and the smoke from the fire was stifling you. The evening was going downhill fast.

You turned around and took a glance at his friends, they were all laughing about it, apparently finding it hilarious that an old man had threatened Reid. Everyone was in hysterics apart from one of the girls, the girl who’s cabin it was. She didn’t appear to be hearing any new information, she was just smiling like a cheshire cat and opening another cocktail can.

“Didn’t take it seriously then, did I?” Reid shrugged, looking around at all the laughing faces with glee. “What’s he gonna do? Knock me over with his walking stick? That guy was like a hundred years old.”

You wanted to say that it was funny he didn’t say that to Price’s face, but immediately thought better of it. Instead you just tried to laugh it off and hope the subject changed, but ultimately it didn’t. Instead you became the group target when one of his friends had sniggered and asked if Reid wasn’t too young for you. Must be hard keeping up with someone your own age instead of someone that falls asleep when you get on top, and apparently it was the funniest jokes in the world to everyone but you.

For the whole rest of the trip his friends had kept bringing up your supposed penchant for gross old men and had kept the joke going. They brought up pictures of old actors and asked if you’d ‘smash them’ and when one of the men from a neighbouring cabin had walked by, of course an older man walking his even older doddering greyhound, they’d told Reid to hold you back before you ran off with him.

It wasn’t fair, you’d thought. Price wasn’t actually that much older than you. Sure, there was a little bit of an age gap, the lines on his face were a little deeper than other people his age and there was a bit of grey creeping into his hair, but he spent most of his time fighting and commanding big groups of soldiers. It would age anyone quickly!

However, as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, Selena (Cabin owner and supposedly happily committed friend of Reid’s) had come up to Reid on the second night while you were supposed to go away to get something to drink. Somehow, between you going away and hastily coming back to ask what he wanted instead of the drink you were out of, she’d wandered onto his lap. You stood by the patio door, no longer noticing the chill in the air and instead honed in on the fact that she was stroking a hand through his hair and murmuring to him softly and sickly sweet.

“I like your hair like this,” she’d said, her voice sultry and low. “Why’d you never style it like this when we were together.”

“Oh yeah?” Reid responded, gripping her hand in his. “I guess I hadn’t figured out how to do it yet.”

You bit your lip, not feeling like you could say anything yet, knowing that you’d only be made to look like a jealous hypocrite if you protested at an ex getting a little too close. They hadn’t actually done anything yet, you told yourself, they were just sitting together on the old deck chair. He looked like he was about to take her hand off of his head. She was barely even touching him to start with really!

Until she was.

She leaned in and sloppily kissed him, her drunken body swaying as she fought to keep her balance on top of his wobbly legs. Bile rose in your throat as you watched them together and suddenly the entire weight of the weekend was upon you. The jeering of his friends, Reid refusing to stop them making fun of you and telling you to grow up, and finally watching them both locked in a kiss that Reid was in no way trying to get away from.

You blubbered out a pathetic cry and ran to your room, grabbing your things in a blind panic and barely checking that you had everything, only really worrying about your car keys. You ensured that you had them clasped tightly in your hands, stabbing yourself with the rigid metal, and rushed to your car. You hastily threw your bag into the back and slammed the door loudly. You’d gone to open the drivers door when Reid came bounding up behind you, shouting after you and having the audacity to look angry.

You watched him rush over in a panic, and leapt into the car seat, making extra sure to lock the door as you got in. You’d done it just in time too. Just as the click of the lock had sounded, Reid angrily pounded on the window and screamed at you, telling you not to overreact and get out the car.

“I’m not overreacting, I’m going home!”

“You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking,” he growled.

“I’ve been drinking lime sodas,” you screamed back, turning the engine over as you angrily jerked the keys. “And I saw you kiss her back! If you think I’m gonna let that go then you’re dead wrong! This is over.”

“Oh, come on! I didn’t do that, you’re making things up. Just come out the car and talk to me for a minute!”

You glared at him and put your foot on the clutch, revving the car as you waited for him to get out of your way. He stood resolute and threw his arms in the sky, looking ready to rip you out of the car with his bare hands.

“If your stupid army man came over and did the same you’d probably kiss him back too!”

That did it.

You reversed the car in a flash and turned round, uncaring if you bashed into anything. As long as you didn’t run over Reid (as much as you kind of wanted to), you were happy to do anything just to get out of the drive. You turned the car successfully, even managing to leave dent free and barrelled your way down the road. Wiping furiously at your tears so that you could see your way down the unlit country roads.

-💘-

When you finally got back to your town, you weren’t able to go home right away. You didn’t have the strength to drive on. You’d been hounded with text messages and calls and the sounds of vibrations and sight of angry words had put you too on edge. You couldn’t go on.

Instead, you’d stopped in the Tesco Extra car park and rammed on your break, sitting in a relatively abandoned section near the back. You hastily turned off your phone and threw it in the back seat before draping your arms over the steering wheel, then crying into them like something out of a cheesy movie.

It wasn’t fair.

You’d just wanted to have a nice weekend away and instead you’d spent the entire time being the butt of a dumb joke and had been cheated on to boot. It felt like nothing in your life could go right.

Every one of your friends had encouraged you to get with Reid, had told you things would be much better with someone that would actually be home and not off in some random country video calling you from miles away; and at that moment you wanted to facetime each and everyone one of them and show them exactly where that advice had gotten you.

Look at my big ugly crying face and feel awful, you stupid idiots!

Even when you were mid breakdown in your car you still knew that that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t their faults he was a cheat. Instead you just kept weeping quietly to yourself and letting the hot tears roll down your face like acid, stinging at your irritated skin. It felt good to get it all out and soon you were running out of anything to cry with anyway.Your big snuffly sobs were turning into quiet breaths and eventually no sound left you as you stared ahead into nothing, the neon shop lights blurring in the corners of your eyes.

Your calm didn’t last for long though. A knock came at your window and you jumped out of your skin, bolting upright and looking at the glass with panic. At first you thought Reid had somehow found a way to follow you home, but it turned out to be worse than you’d first assumed. It wasn’t your now ex, it was the ex before him - Price.

You took a moment to catch your breath and furiously rubbed at your eyes, hoping that he hadn’t noticed what you’d been doing all hunched over in the dark. However, your motions had completely betrayed you and before you could think to roll down your window, he was coming over to the passenger side of the car and tapping on the glass again and motioning to the lock.

He wanted to get in. For crying out loud, what was this day?

You groaned, but knew there was no use denying him and weakly pulled up the lock, wincing as he wrenched open the old door and shut it with a bang.

“What happened? Are you ok?” He asked, gripping your arm with a reassuring squeeze. “Are you hurt?”

He looked ready to follow through with his supposed murder threat when he’d asked the last question. You swallowed thickly and scanned his face, noticing that he looked less tired than when you’d last seen him, he was more focused as he glared.

He had shaved the mutton chops back into his beard, but he was still wearing the old green shirt that you loved, it looked like it had been washed many times since you’d seen it. It was fraying even more than it had been.

“No, I’m ok,” you finally responded, your voice going croaky. “I just- I just had a bad weekend is all. I’d rather not talk about it. I’ll be fine once I get myself home and then I can sort myself out from there.”

“You’re in no state to get yourself home, not like this,” Price admonished, easily sliding his palm against your face. It felt cool to the touch, it soothed your burning cheek. “Did you come here to get something? Do you want me to go in for you while you wait here? Then we can figure out how to get you home.”

He made sure you were making eye contact, he was speaking in that low familiar tone he used to use with you. The one that used to send your heart sparkling like a firework fuse ready to blow. You could already feel the beginnings of a sparkler fire, there was something fizzling away and making your heartbeat flutter and skip.

“No! No, I didn’t come to get anything, I just needed to stop for a minute. You don’t have to do any of that, honestly I’d feel awful for you if you had to go trailing after me,” you laughed, trying to brush off how heartbroken you were. “Please John, don’t put yourself out all for-”

“Nonsense. Wait here and I’ll be back in a second.”

“John!” you protested, watching as he slid out of the car.

“I mean it,” he said sternly, giving you a serious look. “You move from this spot and I’ll be cross, love. Sit tight.”

There was no arguing with him. It was as if he’d tapped into some deep seeded programming and reactivated it as if he’d never left. Ill be cross love. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him.

You relaxed back in your chair and watched curiously, still rubbing your eyes of the drying salt, tracking Price as he ran over a little ways to his car and brought a bag out of it. He surveyed the car park, visibility peering around, watching for any cars that might cross his path and came back to you before very long. Efficient as always.

He drew to a stop in front of the driver's side and opened the door, beckoning you out. You frowned and crossed your arms, ready to put up a fight at him wanting to drive your car. For one thing, he hated driving it and would always come off the clutch too hard - a problem you weren’t even sure why you were worrying about at a time like that - and for another you weren’t sure you were in the right state to let him be your caretaker at that moment. You were so vulnerable and you didn’t want to hurt yourself further by being around the one man that held the key to making or breaking you.

“Are you really going to fight me on this?” He asked, tilting his head down at you.

His forehead creased and he stared at you intently, willing you out with whatever mind powers he seemed to possess. That’s how it felt like with him sometimes. He had such a knack for getting what he wanted out of you, and to be truthful it was often better that way. He knew best.

Apart from when he started that fight.

You shivered and shook the thought from your mind, taking one last look at his unbudging frame. It was useless arguing with him. He was right anyway. You were in no state to get yourself home, you were bleary eyed and weak, you’d probably end up running a red light and ramming into another car knowing your luck. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, you thought darkly, you could only take so much more.

However, you soon gave in. You went to unbuckle your seatbelt and finally realised in all your upset you hadn’t even done it up in the first place, so you awkwardly drew your hand back, looking up to see Price’s ‘I told you you weren’t fit to drive’ look. Your face flushed then and it felt like you’d touched the sun.

You recovered eventually, then sighed and stood out from the seat, winding your way round to the passenger side and settling in. He joined you in the car after that, sitting in your driver's seat and rattling the car with his extra weight. From there he settled his shopping bag on his lap and pulled out a can of coke from its box and handed it to you.

From the small peak you’d gotten he had clearly meant for the juice to be a mixer for whatever crappy whiskey he’d gotten for himself, but there was little chance of him giving you any of that while you were in the state you were in. He had a rule about you drinking when you were upset. He was already shoving the bag in the back of the car by the time you’d even amusedly thought about asking about it.

“There. You sit there a moment and drink that and I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to give me your shopping, John. You’re going out of your way enough as it is. You’re already leaving your car behind!” You said, motioning to his old Honda. “How will you get home after? You’re putting yourself out too much!”

“It’s just a can of juice, love. I reckon I’ll be good for it,” he snorted, finally starting up the car again. “And don’t you worry about me. Just focus on calming down and feeling better.”

It was comical watching him get used to your car again, almost enough to make you forget about the hell you’d driven away from. Price swore under his breath and grumbled as he worked his foot against the ‘stupid overly high clutch’ and ‘stiff bloody gearshift’, but he managed to get it out of the car park. Soon you were leaving the blurry red and blue lights of the shop in the distance.

You said nothing for the duration of the drive. Instead you sat obediently and drank your coke, barely thinking of anything at all as the familiar sights of the city passed you by. The McDonald’s drive through, the old ratty furniture and charity shops that littered the streets before your own, and of course the pet store you always liked to visit. The one that Price always used to suck a breath in at (he always worried you’d come home with something one day).

Meanwhile the coke bubbles fizzed and washed over your tongue, tickling at your dry throat. Admittedly it did help you to feel a little better as time went on. That with the added distraction of watching Price focusing intently on not stalling your car almost let you forget all about the shitty couple of days you’d just endured.

Finally you rolled to a stop in a parking spot just a few steps away from your doorway and the rumbling growls of your car died. The fuzz of the silence burned at your ears and eventually it was too much, you clicked your tongue and turned to Price awkwardly offering him a half smile. You were about to brush him off with a thank you, but you were beaten to breaking the quiet streak before you could even open your mouth.

“Are you going to tell me what he did?” He asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You pursed your lips and played with the empty can in your hands, causing the aluminium to squeal as you squeezed it. You didn’t want to get into it all with him. You weren’t convinced you could make it through the story without crying again, and the last thing you needed was to go blubbering into his arms when you were trying to maintain some distance. Afterall, you reasoned that it was hardly his job to pick you up from an Ill advised rebound relationship. Plus he was the very reason you’d jumped into it in the first place.

“Who said Reid did anything?” You murmured, digging your nails into the white logo of the can.

“Captain’s intuition,” Price murmured, turning fully to you now. “You can tell me, You know. I don’t want you holding yourself up in that flat and crying alone for the rest of the night. It’d play on mind and neither of us would get any rest.”

“Don’t do that,” you moaned.

“Don’t do what?”

“Make me feel guilty for wanting to sort myself out.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I want you to feel better. And I know you won’t help yourself if I leave you alone right now.”

“I’m not a child,” you huffed, feeling your heart beginning to ache all over. “I can look after myself.”

Your chest was feeling heavy and all of a sudden you were overcome by dread. It felt like he was trying to reprise his old role again, but that’s not something he could just step right into. He couldn’t just pick up where he’d left off, you reasoned, there was hurt there and so many things left unsaid. If things went wrong he could leave you even more broken than you’d ever been before. You pictured yourself shattered like a china cup that had been dropped too many times.

“You can look after yourself, can you?” Price asked, raising his brows. “Tell me right now that you’ll go and get yourself to bed and not end up worrying all night and having a panic attack at work tomorrow, and I’ll go. Tell me how you’re going to look after yourself and I’ll leave you to it, go on.”

You withered under his gaze and folded your arms in on yourself, trying to apply pressure over your shaking torso. He was right of course. You’d envisioned in your head even before the car had stopped, shutting the door, shutting out the world and feeling the weight of it all avalanche over you. He knew you too well to think you’d take any other course of action, right down to the fact that you weren’t going to take any time off work. Which would ultimately lead to you crying in the bathroom like a schoolgirl.

“John,” you whispered, “you can’t- we can’t-“

“This isn’t about us. It’s about you, and you needing someone to be there for you. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to invade my way into your life, I just don’t want you to spend all night torturing yourself over whatever happened…just let me help you. That’s all I’m asking… It’s all I want.”

He spoke so calmly and so softly you couldn't help but melt against his will. He was making too much sense. You didn’t really have the energy to argue either, so you just nodded and got out of the car, trying desperately not to start crying again. The thought of Price still caring so much about you was pulling you under into another tidal wave of upset, and you were fighting against the rough surf just to try and make it to your door.

Price led the way, bulleting up the steps just the way he always used to. He still had your keys,so he unlocked the door and held it open while he put his hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you through. You could feel the thin glue that was holding you together being peeled away. His reassuring smile and his steady presence were making it harder and harder to hold your face as it was.

You could feel your lips go wobbly and your eyes welling up again and before you knew it you were throwing yourself into his arms and sobbing into them, rattling against him with your accompanying shaky hiccups. You weren’t even sure what you were crying about now.

Sure, you were still upset about the weekend you’d just endured, but now you were also thinking about Price and all that you’d lost when you told him you didn’t want to see him anymore. You’d told him that that fight had ruined what you’d built, and had destroyed your trust and now more than ever you knew that that wasn’t true.

It felt like John was the only person you could trust. He knew exactly what you needed and seemed to be there for you at all the right times, he looked after you and loved you and would do anything just to make you happy. He had been adamant at the time that he was justified for that fight, had worried you that it would happen again and you’d be put through the terrifying ordeal once more, but now you wondered if that had changed. If he’d realised what he’d done wrong, just as you had.

You shouldn’t have walked away. He shouldn’t have stood his ground.

You sniffled and tightened your grip on him, threading your fingers through his shirt and nuzzled into his neck. His scratchy beard tickled at your scalp, and his arms wound themselves securely around you and held you firmly against his warm body. Even through your stuffy nose, the intermingling scent of pine and cigars and cheap laundry detergent smelled like heaven in that moment and it calmed you. You’d been able to stop crying for a moment, and found yourself wiping your hands over your eyes and face yet again.

“There you go, love,” he murmured. “That’s better, isn’t it? You don’t have to fight your problems alone, you know. I’ve always said that to you, haven’t I? You don’t have to try to be so strong all the time.”

You scoffed at that, swallowing a thick lump in your throat.

“Don’t feel very strong right now,” you sniffed.

“Not strong? Course you are. You always try to push through everything till I come along and stop you, eh? C’mon, why don’t we get you sitting down and get you a glass of water.”

You smiled at his comment and nodded, drifting into the comfort of being looked after by someone that knew you so well.

Price took you over to the Sofa and fluffed up one of the pillows for you to sit against, not forgetting to unfold your favourite fluffy blanket in the process. He even wrapped it around you like a soft cloud, insulating you from the world.

He then disappeared into your kitchen for a moment, rummaging around and running the tap in a couple of short bursts before returning with a full glass of water and another glass with what you presumed was jack daniels and coke. That one wasn’t going to be for you, but distantly you did wish that it was. Drinking your problems away and escaping reality sounded like a rather pleasant prospect.

“Any chance you’d like to have the water?” you asked, smiling behind the blanket.

He chuckled and set the water down on the coffee table next to you, keeping the jack and coke on hand for himself while he sat down across from you. Even though he was only on the opposite end of the couch he felt too far away.

“Can’t have that. You’re not allowed to drink when you’re upset,” he said with a wink. “Against the rules.”

“Didn’t realise I still had to abide by those rules,” you retorted.

His eyes twitched a little, you could see something in his face change when you said that. You regretted it instantly.

“No ones holding you to em’, but they’re still what’s best for you, are they not?” he shrugged, looking at you expectantly.

Price had always been very good to you, and part of that was ensuring that you looked after yourself. So somewhere along the way in your relationship, when you’d been exploring each other’s kinkier sides, Price had set you some rules. Rules you had to follow on pain of a spanking. Sometimes it was a bother, but you’d come to realise that you’d never been healthier than when you’d been with him. You’d drank lots of water and made sure to go outside and go on walks when you could, and had refrained from falling back on alcohol when something was amiss. Just to think of a few rules.

He was correct in saying that they were what’s best. It was just difficult when he wasn’t around to enforce them.

“You’re usually right,” you said with an appeasing smile. “Doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love to forget this whole weekend over a bottle of wine and a big box of cake though.”

He laughed at that, all traces of consternation wiped from his face as he must have pictured you with your go to coping mechanisms before you met him. You laughed too when you remembered the night he’d barged in on you eating and drinking your sorrows after a rough day at work. He’d had the joy of hauling you to bed afterward while you babbled on about how people had been so mean to you and how you wanted to set fire to the whole place and never go back there again.

“Well in lieu of wine and cake, you have water or I can go make you a tea. Would you like that?”

“No, its fine, the water’s good,” you said dismissively, finally picking up the cool glass with your dewy palms. “I just wish I could forget this whole weekend. It’s been a disaster.”

“Oh yeah? You ready to talk about it?”

You breathed in a sharp breath and tilted your head to the side.

Fuck it, you thought.

“Reid aired our dirty laundry in front of all of his friends and then proceeded to cheat on me,” you said, raising your water glass in toast before taking a swig. “That was after everyone made fun of me the whole time too.”

Price let out a short little laugh. He was incredulous.

“Cheated on you?”

“His ex kissed him and he uh- didn’t exactly try to get away from her,” you shrugged, voice breaking

“What a fuckin’ fool,” He growled. “He kissed his ex right in front of you?”

“He didn’t know I was there, I don’t think so anyway. I was supposed to be away getting drinks, but I came back to ask him what he wanted because they were out of beer and- well…yeah.”

“Doesn’t make it any better. What kind of an idiot would cheat on you?”

You felt your cheeks warm and shrugged again. Price had his faults, but he’d never hurt you like that. He was too old fashioned. A one person at a time kind of man.

“I guess it wasn’t really an amazing relationship to begin with anyway,” you sighed, reflecting over the month you’d had.

“No?”

“When I asked him where he saw things going, he said ‘I dunno. You want me to be your boyfriend or something?’ and then that was how we made things official,” you recounted, finally realising that maybe what had happened was for the best.

Price groaned and put a hand over his face. It reminded you of the time that you’d announced to him that you were going to buy a flying squirrel after you’d seen a cute video of one - something you often took to claiming with an array of different animals - and he’d worried you might be serious. He’d taken his hand off his face at the time and said ‘darlin with the amount of stuff I’ve had flying at me over the years, I’m not sure my heart could take being assaulted by an airborne rodent in the night.’

“You must be drawn to muppets or something,” Price mused. “You deserve a lot better than that.”

“I was with you last, wasn’t I?”

“Exactly,” He smirked. “Point proven.”

You smiled back at him and shook your head - Price and Reid weren’t comparable. Price cared for you too much, that’s why he ended up in that fight in the first place and that’s why he couldn’t comprehend that he was wrong for escalating things after you’d been shoved. Reid didn’t really care for you that much at all. It wasn’t like you’d made a massive effort for Reid either, but at the very least you hadn’t gone and let Price lick half your face off.

“You let me down at the end there, I’ll give you that…but before all that, you were the best thing that I’ve ever had in my life…Even when I wasn’t with you and you were in all those far off countries, and I used to whine and moan about you being away a lot, it was better than when I was actually alone, better than anything with anyone else too.”

“Love,” Price breathed, not knowing what to say.

You stared at him then and felt your heart burst. The floodwaters opened then, you coudln’t help yourself as you saw the sad sheen of his glistening eyes.

“These past few months I think I’ve really come to see what a stupid mistake I made. I shouldn’t have told you things were over before you left. I should’ve just stuck it out till you got back and we could’ve talked about it all properly. I was just scared and angry and I didn’t know what else to do. Now I know though…now I know what I should’ve done. Just tragically too late, huh?”

You whispered your confession, too afraid to look at him anymore as you said it, instead casting your eyes down to your blanket while you played with the soft material between your fingers. You huffed out a breath afterwards and looked up at Price, noticing the way his jaw clenched and his hand tightened on his glass. His knuckles were almost bone white.

Had you said too much? Were you going to chase him away? Who knows if he’d moved on and was really just trying to be there and be a friend for you.

For a split second you worried that you’d gone too far with your venting, but Price didn’t leave you hanging for long. He leaned forward and put a hand on your thigh just as you were about to apologise and held eye contact with you, keeping a firm hold of you and your attention.

“Darlin’...do you really mean all that?”

Your eyes would’ve welled up again if you had anything left to cry.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but yes. It’s been all that I’ve thought about since I saw you last week.”

“Sorry? What’re you sorry for?” he said, laughing gently, searching your face.

“It’s not fair to tell you something like that. I’m basically ambushing you with all my feelings right now and you’ve been nice enough to drive me home and look after me, when all you were trying to do was get some shopping in and now you’re here listening to me blubber about my stupid feelings, when I haven’t asked you how you feel and how you’ve been doing and you probably don’t even want me by this point, because look at me and big tear streaked face, and-”

Price cut you off mid ramble, moving in closer to you and taking your face in his hands. They were rough and familiar and they were warm, and they held you steady just as you felt like you were going to come apart again. You breathed, but it didn’t feel like your lungs were able to hold onto the air. They were fighting for space with your booming heartbeat.

“Angel…you really- do you think,” he had to pause for a moment, his voice crackling. “Do you think maybe it’s not too late to talk more about it? Not now, course, but… you think you’d want to give us another chance?”

You pursed your lips and looked down. Angel. His favourite nickname for you, the special one he reserved only for you. You looked back up to his wide blue eyes and nodded. It seemed like you were glittering in the reflection of them.

“Yes…One day,” you smiled.

Price smiled back, his moustache turning up with his lips.

“One day,” he repeated, voice full of wonder.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You both just stared, tension mounting as the air felt so thick that you could craft shapes with it. It felt like neither or you was sure of your next move, but suddenly you got a burst of courage and you decided to take a leap of faith.

You kissed him. You leaned forward just slightly and took his mouth in yours, pecking at first until he kissed back and eventually your world was bursts of stars and hints of jack and coke. The taste of him landed deliciously on your tongue. Your heart pounded harder than ever at that point, but it was ok, because you could feel his beating erratically just the same.

You moaned.

“Please, daddy...”

You let the words loose before you could even think about it. What is it they say about old habits…?

“Shit, hold on, I-” you sputtered, breaking away from Price completely.

“Language!” he chuckled, his laugh low and earthy.

You paused and looked at him measuredly, trying to parse out what had just happened. In the wake of all the familiarity, you’d resorted to your old name for him. Apparently he wasn’t against its resurrection, he’d found it amusing in fact. You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, searching for the right words, but you weren’t entirely decided between apologising or asking if he liked it.

“Don’t look so worried, Angel,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “You can still call me that if you like. Or are you apologising for kissing me?”

“But…well…isn’t it a bit unfair for you..y’know, since we haven’t really completely resolved things yet? I can’t just go around kissing you out of the blue and calling you daddy and we haven’t even talked about-”

“Would you stop rambling on about what’s fair and right,” Price admonished, rolling his eyes, “I don’t care about what you’ve been doing all these months, I don’t care about doing things by whatever rules people normally go by. All this time, all I’ve wanted is you, and now you’re here in front of me telling me you want to give things another go…I’ll take as much as you’ll give me. So tell me…do you want to kiss me? Will that make you happy? It would make me happy.”

You took a breath and nodded.

“Words, Angel,” he admonished.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, feeling like your head had been sparked with a jump lead.

“Very good,” he praised, whispering lowly into your ear.

You shivered as you felt the words zip down your spine. You hummed with the praise and felt your body warm up considerably, feeling entirely too hot all of a sudden.

Price soon gathered you in his arms like clay and moulded you into his lap, untangling you from your blanket nest and switching places so that he was propped against the arm and you were leaning snugly against him. With you both comfortably in place, he put one hand on your hip while he held the back of your neck with the other, and gently placed a couple of kisses on your neck, sending your spine alight with tingles.

“And would you like to call me daddy again?” he asked again, still murmuring deep and low.

You swore then that he’d disturbed a horde of butterflies that you didn’t know had been dormant all that time inside your tummy. Your heart was fluttering along with them.

“Um, yeah, I mean- yes. Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he urged, kissing your neck. “You know how to answer properly. I know you do.”

Were you in a fantasy of your own making? Had you died and gone to heaven?

“Y-yes, daddy,” you whimpered, nuzzling your head into his chest.

“Oh…” he breathed, voice all growly and needy. “That’s my sweet Angel. So good for me.”

You could’ve died then and there. You couldn’t imagine ever feeling happier. You didn’t care if it was a fever dream, coma hallucination or a psychedelic induced fugue state. All you wanted was to be with Price again, and with him reassuring you and praising you and holding you in his arms like that, why would you try to fight it?

You unburrowed yourself from his chest and scanned over his face, admiring his crinkly eyed smile and scruffy face for a moment before kissing him again, wrapping your arms around him snug just in case it really was all a dream. You wouldn’t let it fade away. You were going to hold on tightly. You’d continue to kiss his fluffy bearded face and welcome every sensation as it rooted you in your dreamlike reality.

You intertwined yourself with him and moaned, returning his kisses with fervent need and roamed your hands around his back, eventually bringing a hand up so that you could thread your fingers through his wiry dark hair. The bristle of it jolted through you and you smiled against his lips.

“That feel good, hm?” he growled, “I can feel you bucking your hips against me, love.”

You felt your cheeks burn like hot coals and refused to meet his eyes, instead settling your chin on his shoulder. You hadn’t realised you’d been doing it, but now that he’d mentioned it you finally registered the sway of your body gliding over his and noticed the growing hardness underneath you.

Fuck.

“That does feel good,” you whimpered, not embarrassed enough to stop yourself. “Feels so good, daddy.”

“Mhmm? Feels good for me too. I love feeling your body on mine,” he hummed, kissing the side of your neck. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that? So so perfect.”

You whined and nuzzled against his neck, drawing out a low groan from him as your nose connected with his tender flesh. You slowly returned the favour, kissing him just as he’d been kissing you and showing him exactly how it felt to have your body set alight with prickling heat. You smiled as he continued to moan with you, but it didn’t last long.

He snatched the upper hand back, and propelled you both forward, forcing you to lie back on the couch, on top of your blanket, while he took his place on top of you. He ground his hips into yours and had you eking out the most salacious moans, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure.

“I love it when you moan for me like that, I’ve missed that sound so much,” Price rumbled, “do you want more? Would you like that?”

“Mm, yes,” you keened. “More, daddy. I want to feel you.”

“Wanna feel me, hm? Ok, Angel. Lets get these clothes off shall we?”

You moaned just at the suggestion and eagerly complied, sitting up a little and helping him to remove your top and trousers until you were naked below him. You were about to ensure that he matched you in kind, but the only thing he’d allowed you to remove was his shirt, hastily popping the buttons off like you were unwrapping a present. He’d put his hand over yours at his trousers and given you a wicked grin, a glint appearing in his azure eyes.

“Uh uh, don’t you worry about that,” he smiled, bringing your hand up to his lips so that he could kiss it. “We’re focusing on you right now.”

“But I wanna make you feel good too,” you whined, tilting your head.

“I know you do,” he laughed, gently pushing you back down so that you were flush to the couch. “Just trust me, this will make me feel very good. Just let me treat you like you deserve.”

He didn’t allow you any more time for backchat. You whimpered as he fastened his mouth around one of your nipples and you writhed at the sensation, moaning low in your throat when he trailed his hand down your body, past the swell of your belly and drifted down below. You were bucking your hips against him slowly again, creating friction between you and his hand.

He alternated between nipples for a moment, swirling and flicking his tongue while he lazily rubbed his palm against you, not in a rush to try and urge you to a finish. He savoured you and sent your body sparking and prickling like a freshly lit firecracker. Your breathing was getting heavier and your stomach was tightening and coiling and it only grew more and more erratic as he started to move down your body, kissing his way down to the opening between your thighs.

“So good for me lying there. So obedient. You always do what daddy tells you, don’t you?” he growled, planting a kiss just below your belly.

“Mm, yes,” you breathed, struggling to think of any words

“Yes what?” Price asked, nipping the meat of your thigh and drawing out a yelp.

“Yes, daddy!”

He was using his tongue on you now, swirling it around and tasting you, savouring your pleasure. You swallowed the lump in your throat and clutched at the couch cushion next to you, scrunching the thick material in your hand, clutching it for support. It didn’t take long until he fell into a steady rhythm, using his mouth and hands on you and sending you into a spiral.

Your mind was barely present anymore, you were only good to use a couple words and no more. Everything else was just moans while your head felt like it was turning to mush. You breathed deeply and heavily and thrust your hips against Price, feeling the coil in your belly tighten all the more, feeling the stars in your eyes turn from constellations and into tiny galaxies and universes.

“I- um- Daddy, I-”

“Are you gonna cum for me, love?” Price rasped.

“Yes!”

“Go on then. Cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel, Angel.”

You groaned and the swelling feeling in your head boiled to breaking point. You shuttered your eyes closed tightly and squeezed the couch cushion tightly, moaning out as your orgasm washed over you. The wave of pleasure rushed over your body and after a big rush of pleasure, it lapped slowly over you, gently receding until you were left a shaking twitching mess underneath your lovers body.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, blinking away the fuzziness form your eyes. “Holy…Moly.”

Price looked up at you from between your thighs and barked out a laugh, clutching his head in his hand while the other gripped your shaking thigh. Once he recovered from your outburst, he shook his head and clambered up your body, coming to a rest against next to you, and drawing you into his arms.

He was rock hard against you, but there was very little you could do about it in the state you were in. You just bustled yourself into him and lay your head against the warm expanse of his chest and sighed happily, basking in the aftershocks of your happy ending he rubbed your arms.

“You’re not gonna let me return the favour, are you?” You’d mumbled eventually, rutting up against him for emphasis.

“Got plenty time for that, Angel,” he said gently redirecting you off of his throbbing centre. “Just wanted to make you feel good. You’ve had such a rough day, you deserved something to take your mind off it all.”

He placed a kiss on top of your head then and drew you closer, wrapping his arm tighter around you. You sighed and ran your fingers along it, feeling the little dark hairs tickle at your finger tips. You came to a stop at his palm and lightly traced over his lifeline, it was illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp.

“How come you were out shopping so late?” You asked sleepily, letting your hand drop and rest at Price’s side.

He shrugged at first, rocking your body with the movement.

“Sat around feelin’ a bit useless today,” he said eventually, sighing deeply. “Didn’t have anything lined up for myself, so eventually I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. I went all the way out to the hills and was out for hours, didn’t get back until after dark and then i realised I didn’t have anything to eat. How come?”

“I dunno…i guess its just a little funny that you ended up in that car park just when I needed you to be there. Like fate or something,” you murmured.

He chuckled at that and kissed your head again. The sound washed over you like spring rain.

“You know I don’t normally subscribe to rubbish like that, but on this occasion…it feels like there’s something to that theory.”

“Yeah? Feel’s like a good thing to be saddled with me again, does it?” you smirked, trying to cover up how worried you were about being a burden.

No matter how good he’d made you feel only moments before you couldn’t help the rush of paranoia from kicking in. The feeling that Price was going to realise that you were too much to be with, that you needed him more than he needed you. It had begun to feel like the past few months were a great demonstration of that. He’d survived a warzone and gotten through deployment while you holed yourself up for over a month from grief and then jumped into a failed relationship in the making just to try and get over him.

“Listen to me, love, before you get any big ideas about this being some kind of hardship for me again…This past week that I’ve been back has been miserable. Deployment was bad, but I had a bit of distraction over there at least. When I got back here, and realised what life was really like without you? That was hell. You give me purpose, Angel. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now, than cuddled up with you on the couch. There’s no one else I’d rather be with, no one in the whole world.”

He swallowed harshly and continued on.

“When I thought I’d lost you forever I was so angry with myself, I realised right away when I got on that plane that I should’ve just admitted that you were right. You were right, and I shouldn’t of hurt that man like that. I lost control of myself and I was too stubborn to hear that he wasn’t really a threat. I wanted to call you and tell you that, but I figured you’d been hurt enough and the last thing you needed was me playing with your feelings and trying to work things out while I was away. I reckoned that if I came back and you were open to give things a go again I’d make sure to fix things, but if you wanted to keep me out your life then…well I’d have wished you the best. Whatever happens between us, now or in the future, I want you know that I only ever want what’s best for you, because I…”

He trailed off, peering toward the lamp and letting his eyes blur into its amber glow. You stared up at him from your place on his chest and smiled, watching the way his lips tried to form to finish his sentence. He was pensive, he wasn’t sure whether to say them or not.

“Because you love me?” you smiled, swivelling so that you faced him fully.

You finally had a little strength flood back into your body, so you hoisted yourself up and lay on your tummy, folding your arms over his chest and resting your chin on top of them. He tilted his head at you and smiled, affirming your words with a tight nod.

“I’ll always love you,” he sighed, “No matter what. Just wasn’t sure if it was entirely appropriate to say that to you just yet.”

“John, you just threw me around and made me cum while I called you daddy - appropriate ran out the door and flew to the moon like a half hour ago,” you giggled.

He laughed with you and shook his head, clearly in as much disbelief as you were that this was really happening. You were back in each others arms, just where you were always meant to be. You sighed and he ran his hand over your head, stroking his fingers through your hair and sending your head into a fuzzy daze with the feeling of his gentle touch.

“You make a good point,” he agreed. “Always have struggled with moving at a normal pace, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I think that was pretty apparent from the moment we met,” you agreed.

“I’ll never forget the look on Gaz’s face that night he opened that door,” he mused, getting that stupid smile on his face that he always got at the memory of the time you’d met - and immediately fucked.

“I hate when you bring that up,” you groaned, giving his arm a playful slap. “He was so pleased he’d introduced us before he walked in on us!”

“Well, serves him right for not knocking,” he winked, “it's rude to barge in on a superior officer.”

“Ugh! You’re lucky I love you too, or I’d be getting up and locking that bedroom door,” you groaned. “I hate the superior officer line!”

He smiled at that, his face brightening instantly. You’d said it back. His eyes were perfect crescents. You loved when they did that, sparkling outwardly to you through shuttered lids. He was like a cuddly koala bear.

“You know what?” he said suddenly, his voice low and soft.

“What?” you asked, frowning as his tone shifted.

“You’re going to let me take you for dinner tomorrow,” he announced.

“I am?” you smirked, relaxing instantly.

“Yes you are. We’re going to go to dinner and talk everything through and we’re going to set everything right again. Then after that we’re going to put all this nonsense behind us, yeah?”

You giggled lightly at his commanding tone, but you didn’t disagree, you nodded. You fastened your arms around him and cuddled into him close, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you settled into his perfectly warm body. Your eyes started to flutter as you did, growing heavy as you became more and more aware of how drained you actually were.

“I think I like the sound of that,” you sighed, closing your eyes completely.

Price squeezed your shoulder and gathered you close, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. His beard scratched at your scalp again.

“Good,” he yawned. “That sounds good to me too…”

-💘-

1 week later

You were sorting out some grand emergency at work and Price was in your flat alone. He’d had a shower and gotten himself half dressed, too eager to get something to eat to put a shirt on. So he stood in your little kitchen in front of the window, bathing in the spring sunlight, eating a bowl of cereal to himself as his damp hair dried from his strategic position.

Just like he’d said, you had fixed things at dinner the night after you’d reconciled - and from there on it was almost like things had completely gone back to normal. Almost. When you’d turned your phone on the next day, you were greeted with a torrid of horrible messages and some hundred missed calls from Reid. However, with Price there, you didn’t really let any of it bother you.

Not much anyway.

He held you through your upset and after a quiet minute of figuring out what to do, you messaged Reid a short, matter of fact text. You told him that you were in fact serious about your decision, you reminded him that - no - you weren’t drunk when you’d left, you weren’t ‘being crazy’ and would even be generous enough to put his things he’d left at yours into a box for him to collect, should he decide to be grown up enough to come over and get them.

You’d gotten a million more missed calls after that and a flurry of messages, but after hearing Price’s words of encouragement, you ignored them all. After a few days they stopped coming, and a few days after that you assumed that that was it. That he was out of your life for good. Thank god.

However, Reid had decided he wasn’t going to go completely quietly. Well, he was forced into not going quietly. After being egged on by his friends, he was put in a tricky position and realised that he wasn’t going to be able to back down. At their insistence he was going to turn up to your place unannounced and confront you when you were least expecting it - give you a piece of his mind while you were unprepared and unable to defend your ‘completely mental overreaction’.

At least that was how it was supposed to go.

Though, when he’d pounded on the door and had someone other than you answer, his smile dropped. His face was practically tripping him when he realised who it was that answered.

“Can I help you?” Price asked, crunching on a spoonful of cereal, completely unbothered.

“Can you…help me?” Reid repeated, incredulous.

“Certainly can,” Price grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s why I offered.”

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s that hypocrite that’s clearly cheated on me?”

Reid was furious. He couldn’t believe that he was made to feel like such an asshole for kissing someone else when you’d been with the geriatric behind his back the whole time. He was fuming

“Hypocrite? I believe you two were broken up after that little stunt you pulled, mate,” Price corrected, putting his cereal bowl down on the entry table. “Why don’t you just settle down and stay here while I get your little box of shit. Then you can be on your way.”

“You think I’m just going to go while you’re making me look like a mug? You went and swooped in on someone that’s taken and think you can just walk around naked like you own the place now because they slutted themselves out to you?”

“Careful, son,” Price growled. “Better choose your words more carefully.”

“Or what? You’re gonna kill me?” Reid laughed. “You don’t intimidate me, old man. You’d lose your job over something like that. Guy like you would go to prison for a long time.”

Price chuckled to himself and nodded his head, quirking his lips into an upside down smile. It didn’t meet his eyes though. They didn’t turn to crescents, they just stayed slitted ever so slightly, glaring at the absolute maggot before him.

Price would’ve loved to have taught that shit eating little cunt a lesson. Though he knew already that any kind of physical violence would have you both on the rocks again, and after he’d just gotten you back he wasn’t ready to jeopardise things. However that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t prepared for Reid’s visit, oh no. He had more weapons at his disposal than the average man - he knew plenty of people in lots of places, both high and low, powerful and shady.

“Little old fella like me couldn’t do damage like that,” Price sighed, putting his hand over his heart like he was weary. “I have other things I can do though. Don’t even need to bother laying a hand on a little weasel like you.”

“Oh yeah like what?” Reid laughed, hoisting himself up to the last step and getting into Price’s face. “You gonna get some army buddy of yours to rough me up or something, pay me a visit and scare me? If that happens I’ll record the whole thing.I’ll get you done for it! All my friends know about you, they’d back me up that you were behind it all.”

Price shook his head and sent a quick message off on his phone, quickly taking it out of his pocket and burying it back in again in a flash. After that, he proceeded to pick his cereal back up and ate another spoonful, scrunching up his face when he realised it had mostly lost its crunch. Well, he made a face at that and the fact that Reid was still there and giving him that stupid challenging little look.

“Sounds like I’d get into a lot of bother for that,” Price agreed, swirling his spoon around his bowl. “I’d just hate for you to have recordings…mind you, I don’t think I’ll have to worry too much about those. You’ll be too busy trying to unfuck your life to bother about me.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Reid frowned.

Reid threw him a gesture as if to ask what the hell, and Price shrugged, taking one last bite of his less than tasty cereal. He resolved to himself that he’d pour another bowl and get himself to the shops. He’d hate for you to be running low - it was important to him that you ate afterall. All a part of making sure you were looked after and cared for.

“I said - what’s that supposed to mean!” Reid gritted out, poking a finger into Price’s chest.

Price growled and shot him a warning glare, sending the younger man flying back with just the change in demeanour alone. Reid looked stupid then, holding his palm out like he was going to try and karate chop Price.

“Why don’t you run home and go check your credit score and bank accounts, hm?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Reid laughed, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Are you actually trying to pretend like you can do something like-”

Reid trailed off and frowned down at his device, hurriedly tapping the screen as his brows knitted tighter together.

“Ugh, what an absolute dinosaur I am,” Price grunted, shaking his head at himself. “You can check all these things on your phone nowadays. Plonker. Anyway, like I said - have fun trying to work all that out.”

Price went to shut the door, but grunted when Reid stuck his foot in it before he could close it fully. He glared when he almost spilled his cereal on himself, the milk had splashed up against the sides and a little had dribbled onto his foot. Other than that he was mostly uncovered. Reid was safe from having the rest splashed all over him.

“I’m going to the Police about this! You hear me? I’m going to report this and you’ll be in so much fucking trouble!” Reid vowed, wrenching the door back open. “Fix this right now! Fix it now, or I’ll do it. I’ll go to the police.”

“Go to the police then. But what’re you gonna tell them exactly? ‘Oh, my ex’s boyfriend has frozen all of my money and tanked my credit score! Do something, Mr. Officer!’ Sounds a bit fucking looney, doesn’t it?”

Reid looked at him with wide eyes, withdrawing his foot from the doorway as Price laughed at him, frowning as the realisation fully sunk in. He could report the crime, but he had no idea how Price had even managed to do it in the first place. Something like that would require the help of dodgy people, the likes of which Reid couldn’t even comprehend.

And if he could do all that to Reid’s finances…after, presumably, sending a single text…then what else would Price be capable of?

Reid backed away fully and looked at Price and down at his phone, then back to Price and back down at his phone, locked in a state of disbelief. What the fuck had just happened. His heart dropped and his mouth got dry. It was like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Watch that last step, son. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself,” Price called, grabbing the door so that he could finally shut it. “If you know what’s good for you you should stay away from here and never send another pig headed message again. Never know - It might help your little money situation. Might not help, mind you, but it certainly couldn’t hurt, could it? Good bye, now.”

And with that Price closed the door and retreated back inside, leaving Reid to stand stupidly on the grass out front while he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

There, Price thought, things are just as they should be now. He smirked to himself as washed up his cereal bowl, replaying what had just happened in his head. Thank you Nik. Guess I owe you a beer, mate.

#captain john price #john price x reader #mw2 #modern warfare fanfiction #barry sloane

4K notes · View notes

popcat69 · 8 months

Text

Incorrect Tmnt quotes

Mikey: What does 'take out' mean? Donnie: Food. Leo: Dating Raph: Murder Y/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Donnie: Favourite horror movie?

Mikey: It

Raph: Saw

Leo: Annabelle

Y/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Leo: Croissants: dropped

Raph: Road: works ahead

Y/n: BBQ sauce: on my titties

April: Shavacado: fre

Mikey: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

Donnie:

Donnie: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Y/n: Change is inedible.

Donnie: Don't you mean inevitable?

Y/n, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

Mikey: Hey Donnie,

Donnie: Yes?

Mikey: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Donnie:

Donnie: Where’s Y/n?

Donnie: April isn’t answering their phone

Y/n: I’ll call

Donnie: Casey and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

April: Hello?

Y/n: Top 30 reasons why y/n is sorry... Number 5 will surprise you!

Raph: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!!

Mikey: I'm incredibly fast at maths.

Y/n: Alright, what's 30x17?

Mikey: 47

Y/n: That's not even close.

Mikey: But it was fast.

Donnie: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?

Raph: Nope, absolutely not.

Leo: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.

Mikey: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.

Casey: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.

Y/n: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Splinter: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Leo: ...I did. I broke it.

Splinter: No. No you didn't. Mikey?

Mikey: Don't look at me. Look at Y/n.

Y/n: What?! I didn't break it.

Mikey: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Y/n: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Mikey: Suspicious.

Y/n: No, it's not!

Raph: If it matters, probably not, but April was the last one to use it.

April: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Raph: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

April: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Raph!

Leo: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, person A.

Splinter: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Raph: Splinter... Donnie’s been awfully quiet.

Donnie: rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Splinter, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Splinter: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Splinter:

Splinter: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

'Can I copy the homework?'

Donnie: I can help you with it!

April: Yeah, sure.

Y/n: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

Raph: lol nope.

Mikey: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!

Leo: *Read 5:55pm*

Leo: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways I’m bitches

Leo, driving y/n and April: So how was your day?

Y/n: We almost got surprise adopted!

Leo: What?

April: We almost got kidnapped.

Leo: Oh, okay.

Leo: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

Text

vaggie the hotel manager uses her position and assumed no-nonsense-ness for evil and chaos bc she can

Vaggie: “So.”

Vaggie: “Who broke it?”

Hotel Crew: *stares in silence at the obliterated coffee machine*

Vaggie: “I’m not mad. I just wanna know.”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “-I did, I broke-”

Vaggie: “-no. No, you didn’t sweetie.”

Charlie: (huffs)

Vaggie: “Angel Dust?”

Angel Dust: “Don’ look at me, toots! Look at Husk.”

Husk: “What? I didn’t fucking break it?”

Angel Dust: “Weird. How’d you even know it was broken?”

Husk: “Because it’s sitting right the fuck in front of us, and it’s broken.”

Angel Dust: (leans down) (smirks in his face) “Suspicious~”

Husk: (angry cat noise) “No the fuck it’s not???”

Sir Pentious: “If- if- if it matterssss- probably not, but… Niffty WASSSS the lassst one to ussse it.”

Niffty: (giggling) “LIAR I DON’T EVEN DRINK THAT CRAP!”

Sir Pentious: “Oh. Ah, um, well then- what WERE you doing by the coffee cart earlier?”

Niffty: “I use the hot water to boil insets alive in- everyone knows that, SNAKEY.” (holds up coffee cup of dead drowned bugs)

Sir Pentious: (recoils hissing in HORROR)

Charlie: “Okay- OKAY! Let’s not fight, I broke it, let me pay for it Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Babe, no. Who broke it?”

Hotel Crew: *dead silence*

Husk: “….”

Husk: “…Vaggie. Alastor’s been awfully fucking quiet…”

Alastor: (irate dial tuning sound) “REALLY?”

Husk: “Yeah, really-”

Alasator: “OH HO HOW DARE-”

Hotel Crew: *bursts into squabbling*

Vaggie: (watching)

Vaggie: (shit liar) “I broke it. It burned Charlie’s hand earlier, so I punched it.”

Hotel Crew: *still arguing aren’t listening*

Vaggie: (smirks)

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #husk hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #sir pentious #niffty hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #incorrect quotes #taken directly from: parks and rec #(EARLIER)#charlie *pours herself coffee and gets slightly burned*: “Aw shoot!”#vaggie: (locks death glare on the doomed coffee machine)

436 notes · View notes

alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

Text

Now with a part two!

There’s a guy that comes to the cafe Eddie’s working at. Every other day, he comes to the counter, smiles at Eddie and gives him a post-it with “hi, an americano with two sugars please :)” written on it. He has a different color of post-it assigned for every day. Eddie smiles back and makes the americano, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest.

Needless to say, the guy is insanely cute. He has swoopy chestnut hair, droopy, almost puppy-like eyes, and two moles on his neck that make him look like he’s been bitten by a vampire. Eddie’s not sure if he finds it more adorable or sexy; either way, he’s definitely developed a crush. And now, after months of trying to gather up his courage to say hi, after months of pining and staring from afar... He’s still nowhere near ready to talk to him. And Chrissy’s not letting him live it down.

“You’re insufferable,” she whispers to him frantically when the guy comes through the door on the first Monday of December. “Do something more than smile dumbly or I’ll fire you.”

“You can’t fire me,” Eddie hisses back as he tries to dust pastry crumbs off of his shirt.

“I’m the manager. I can do whatever I want,” she chirps back and goes on to cleaning the machines that don’t need to be cleaned, because Eddie did that twenty minutes ago.

The guy comes to the counter. There are snowflakes in his hair, big and soft. Eddie thinks that they compliment his eyes—then he realizes that it’s a weird thing to notice about a stranger.

The stranger smiles. Eddie smiles back. Today’s post-it is light purple.

Eddie makes the americano. It’s muscle memory at this point, he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing until he has to force a lid onto the cup and serve it to his customer. Hell, whatever. He grabs a sharpie and bends down to drabble something on the cup, trying not to spill the coffee. He manages to draw an ugly looking snake that was supposed to be a dragon, cringes, writes “Have a nice day!” underneath it and prays that it isn’t too weird.

Of course it is. But, miraculously, the guy looks at it, huffs a tiny laugh and smiles right at Eddie and – yeah, whatever, curse him – the whole room lights up. Yes, it’s sappy. Sue him. He could be sappy for this guy—if the guy wanted it.

He takes his coffee and leaves, but before he crosses the threshold, he turns back and waves at Eddie, using only three fingers. It’s a small wave, but a wave nonetheless, so Eddie sends him his best grin and waves back.

When he’s finally out, Eddie bends over the counter and groans. Chrissy pats him between the shoulderblades, mocking sympathy. “You’re on probation,” she whispers. Eddie groans once again. This is hell.

***

He has to call in sick on Wednesday. Now that he’s thinking about it, he kind of knew that the mayo smelled funny and it wasn’t good anymore. But he’s a broke college student and he had a choice: stale bread with mayo and a slice of tomato, or just stale bread with a slice of tomato. These weren’t even real choices. It was suffering or suffering.

Apparently, he’d chosen double suffering, and he had a whole night of hurling to prove it. Good thing he doesn’t have to send Chrissy any photos of what he had to deal with – when he calls, she cuts him off with “Just take my afternoon shift tomorrow and we’re even. You’ll miss out on your cutie, it’s a punishment in and of itself,” and goes on with her day.

Eddie’s so grateful for Chrissy. He wouldn’t get anywhere without her.

***

Eddie doesn’t expect his guy to come on Thursday, it isn’t his regular schedule, so he’s in for a surprise when his morning shift ends and turns into Chrissy’s afternoon shift, and then, some time later, his guy comes in—and he’s not alone.

He’s with a girl. With a pretty, pretty girl, who has beautifully curly brown hair, inquisitive eyes and kind but determined expression on her face. There’s something quite unique about her; Eddie thinks, briefly, that she looks like she’s from another era. Like if they were living in the 80s, she would have a perm, wear bold lipstick and have a whole wall of degrees and certificates in her office. She seems to be destined for great things. She’s a badass.

Eddie’s nothing like her. He tries to swallow down the jealousy as they near the counter. His – his? – guy looks surprised, but smiles either way, his eyes lighting up in a matter of seconds.

“Hi,” the girl says. Her own smile is so nice and warm Eddie can’t stay mopey for too long. “I’ll have a latte with two shots of espresso, and…”

She turns to the guy beside her, but Eddie doesn’t have to know the answer. “An americano with two sugars. On it.”

Their eyes lock for a second. The guy seems a bit shy, but he’s still smiling. Eddie counts that as a win. But he’s still quick with their coffees. He can sense the staring contest they’re having even while he has his back turned to them. He kinda wants them gone, but they didn’t ask for to go, so he just tries to stay calm. Focused. Sharp.

Fortunately, he doesn’t spill anything. They get their order and sit in a corner. It doesn’t look like a date, they pull out books and notes, scribble and sign from time to time. The girl clearly knows more than just the basics of ASL, unlike Eddie. Since the guy started showing up, he’s been trying to learn more about it, but now he makes a mental note to enroll on a course. It’s time to commit – to what, exactly, he’s not sure. But he’s gonna make it happen.

Hours pass, but they stay in the same position. Eddie steals a glance every now and then, trying not to let his jealousy get to the surface again, but it’s hard. The guy is cute, the girl is smart and beautiful. He decides to call Chrissy on his way home – if he has to pine, she’ll suffer with him.

The end of his shift is nearing when he hears a giggle from the godforsaken corner. He looks up from the cups he’s been rearranging and sees that it’s his guy’s girl who’s laughing. She’s laughing at yet another girl, who’s standing outside and drawing hearts on the dirty window. She has a goofy grin on her face, one that makes her eyes and her prominent cheekbones pop even more, and it’s the same grin that the girl inside is wearing at the moment.

Now, Eddie doesn’t know a lot about love, but he definitely recognizes heart eyes when he sees them. He smiles to himself – don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

His guy looks exasperated about being completely ignored, so he taps the glass a few times. The girl outside looks at him, shocked, like she’s only just seen him now, sticks out her tongue at him, and goes back to blowing kisses at her girlfriend. The guy looks truly wounded. Eddie snorts; the dynamic here is immaculate.

In the meantime, the not-his-guy's girl has gathered her things and prepared to leave. She kisses his cheek on her way out, but the guy stays put, bending over his papers again. Eddie thinks it’s quite interesting. Then, he makes a plan.

When he’s done with work, his guy is still there. Which is perfect. Eddie fixes his hair one last time, trying to gauge whether his outfit is metal enough (it is) for the occasion, and grabs the americano with two sugars he’s made.

It’s alright. Everything’s alright.

His wildly beating heart isn’t so sure about that.

When he gets to his guy’s table, he sets the piece of paper on it first. “Looks like you’re swamped – it’s on the house,” it says. The guy looks up, surprised, his mouth opened in a tiny oh. His eyes go wide for a moment and then he smiles. Something warm settles inside Eddie’s chest.

The guy picks up a pen and writes “Thank you!!!” on Eddie’s piece of paper, but before giving it back, he changes his mind. “I’m Steve,” he scribbles, and then gives it back with a flash of smile.

He smiles a lot. It’s an amazing sight.

“Hello, Steve. I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you,” Eddie replies. “What are you working on?” he adds after a second, because he’s feeling bold and he really doesn’t want to go yet.

The guy – Steve – sighs. He makes some room on the loveseat he’s occupying and pushes his books to the middle. Eddie takes it as a cue to sit down. Their knees bump, Eddie gets goosebumps, but he doesn’t move away. Neither does Steve.

“I’ve got an assignment on modern fantasy and its mythological origins, but I’m not as nerdy as my friends so I’m struggling a bit. Nance helped, but she’s not an expert either and my other nerdy friends went for a trip. Maybe you have any experience?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide and he bounces with excitement, nodding his head along the way. “YES,” he writes, all caps, and Steve huffs another laugh. They look at each other then, Eddie all hyped and ready, Steve—soft? There’s no other way to describe it. His gaze is gentle, almost caring. Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

His phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket. He checks it – it’s Chrissy. She’s got her period and she’s out of tampons.

“Shit,” he mumbles. Steve bumps their shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Eddie picks up the pen. “Tiny emergency, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

He knows that his hopeful stare must seem desperate, but Steve reads his reply, looks up and smiles, nodding. Eddie wants to scream victory, but he only nods back and gets up instead. When he’s about to turn and leave, he feels fingers wrap around his hand, delicate but firm. Slowly, Steve opens up his hand and writes something on it.

It’s a phone number. “In case you get sick again :)”

Eddie can’t hold back his dopey smile any longer. When he looks at Steve, the corners of his lips quirk up too. He’s lovely.

Eddie can’t wait for tomorrow.

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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months

Text

late night talking

summary: a chance meeting with harry before his wembley dates leads you into a bizarre friendship

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: i HATE writing meetings. this part is so slow but the next part is linked underneath, which is much nicer ;)

my masterlist can be found here!

“Just a caramel macchiato please”, you said, rubbing at your eyes as you spoke. You always had a hard time sleeping in hotels and tonight was no different. You’d travelled to London to attend some concerts with your best friend, and although she’d invited you to stay with her, you didn’t want to infiltrate her newlywed bubble. So now you were standing in a quiet Starbucks, in your pyjamas, at almost midnight.

You chose one of the comfy tables at the back, hoping not to be noticed by any of the other crazies out at this hour. But not long after you sat down, someone decided to sit in the seat immediately behind yours. You sighed and kept your eyes on your phone, knowing only too well what kind of person chooses a seat next to a woman in a deserted space.

“Sorry, do you have a napkin?” A man’s spoke came from behind you, interrupting your quiet solace. You grabbed one off your table and turned around to pass it over, not looking too closely at the man who asked. His gold rings caught your attention, an obnoxious H S that sent your wide eyes darting up to meet his. The brown curls peeking out from under his hood, the dimpled grin sitting on his chiselled face. It really was Harry. Your heart rate quickened, inches away from the face of the man you were here to see. His laugh broke your spell, and you realised you’d never even let go of the napkin. “Sorry, sorr-“, you spluttered, suddenly unable to think, let alone speak. Harry watched your brain reboot, his smile never faltering, before asking what you were drinking.

He looked over at you from the counter, taking you in. Your messy brown hair, your black vest top paired with pale pink pyjama pants. Your zip-up hoodie had slipped off your shoulders, allowing him to see some patchwork tattoos poking out.

When he returned, Harry sat down across from you and placed the drinks down gently. Holding out a hand for you to shake, he told you his name, which of course you already knew. “Y/N,” you replied, meeting his green eyes. “Well, Y/N, what are you doing in a Starbucks at this time?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his coffee. You mirrored him, bringing your cup to your lips before explaining how you couldn’t sleep in hotels and were in town for a show. He smirked, eyes glimmering knowingly. “I’m here for a show too. And I like being out at this time. It always feels more anonymous.”

~~~

The girl behind the counter called out to you, letting you know the cafe was closing. You hadn’t even noticed the tables being wiped down or the whirring of the coffee machines on their cleaning cycle. Harry slipped a 20 onto the counter as you stumbled out together, mumbling a quick apology. The air was cold after a warm day, and only then you realised how late it must be. “My hotels this way,” you pointed, not wanting to take any more of Harry’s time. His strong hand reached out and grabbed yours, tugging you behind him as he stepped in the opposite direction. “Come on,” he grinned. “I know somewhere we can get more coffee.”

You walked through an eerily deserted London, laughing alongside Harry but wondering now what on God’s green earth you were doing. If Harry was anyone else, you’d be running a mile. You glanced down at your feet, unsure why they weren’t taking you home. Your heart-print pyjama pants were just another reminder of where you should be going. But as you doubted yourself, Harry ground to a halt, sending you flying into the back of him. “What are you doing?” You asked, staring up at the skyscraper hotel in front of you. This was definitely nicer than your choice of digs. Harry only smirked in response, walking towards the doors. You followed him blindly, trailing through the entrance and into the lift behind him. He pulled down his hood and ran a hand through his hair, watching himself in the mirror before his eyes flicked to you. Finally, he spoke, “hotels will give you coffee at any hour on any day, I’ve noticed.”

“Are you staying here?,” you questioned, stepping out of the lift straight into what must have been the penthouse suite. Your eyes were wide in awe, you’d never seen a hotel room like this before. A small kitchen sat on one wall, with a living area big enough to seat an entire family. A king size bed peeked out from behind a glass room divider, everything accented with black and gold glossy metals. You ran your fingers across the back of one of the blue sofas, twirling round to take in your surroundings before your eyes rested on Harry��s. He nodded, amused by your wonder. “You’re welcome,” you scoffed, setting your jacket down on the table. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, opening his mouth to question you. Swatting at his chest, you replied, “I paid good money for your shows. You’d be in a travelodge if it wasn’t for me.”

“You and thousands of others!” He interjected, swatting right back at your hand. You giggled, holding your hands up in surrender. “Okay, big man.”

Harry slipped off his hoodie, leaving him in only a sweatshirt and running shorts. You studied him properly for the first time, your eyes running from his tousled hair, to the way his sweatshirt was the perfect amount of baggy, to his toned, tanned thighs. If you weren’t careful you might have dribbled. He’d been the celebrity you’d pined over for years, and now you were standing in his hotel room. “You like what you see?,” he said, snapping you out of your daydream as he padded over to the coffee machine. “You got me here under false pretences, you know that?,” you grinned, plopping down on one of the armchairs. Harry’s head whipped around, mouth wide open in a half smirk. “I promised you coffee,” he gestured to the coffee machine, “here’s coffee.”

“You didn’t tell me the coffee was in your hotel room,” you smirked, before mouthing ‘weirdo’. Harry wagged a pointed finger at you, “ah ah ah. Only nice manners get you caffeine in my cafe.”

Your conversation continued well into the early hours. Tattoos, music, work, life, pets - you had everything and more to talk about. And you seemed to feel bizarrely comfortable around each other. It was almost 4am before you checked the time, and you stood up almost immediately to grab your jacket and leave. “My God, Harry, I should really-“ you tilted your head towards the door, your voice groggy now from talking and laughing for so long. “Stay here tonight,” Harry’s words came out quiet and almost shy. “It’s too late to go back to where you’re staying, I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you out alone at this hour.” He stood up as he spoke, yawning and stretching his arms. “Come on, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

As he led you towards the bathroom, you realised just how exhausted you were. And his enormous bed did look comfier than anywhere you’d slept in your life. “Harry, I’m really sorry, but do you have a t-shirt or something I can borrow?,” you asked, leaning on the doorframe. He looked you up and down, laughing. “You’re wearing pyjamas already pet.”

“I know! I know. But I went outside in these. Plus my legs get hot when I sleep.” This was true. You loved fluffy pyjama pants as loungewear but you only ever slept in a top and pants, and you couldn’t exactly wear your skimpy vest on its own tonight. Harry shook his head as he chuckled, his unkempt curls bobbing as he did. He yanked a shirt out of his wardrobe and chucked it at you. “Yeah yeah. You just want to tell the world you wore Harry Styles’ shirt.”

“Oh yes,” you rebutted. “Because ‘I slept in Harry Styles’ hotel’ wouldn’t make a good enough story.”

As you came out the bathroom, you resumed your post leaning against the doorframe, watching Harry throw a blanket on the sofa before trying and failing, several times, to stuff his long body on the loveseat. Stifling a laugh, you called out, “Harry, seriously. Not a chance you’re fitting on that sofa. Come to bed.”

As much as he tried to ignore it, you telling Harry to come to bed was far more inviting than he wanted it to be. He felt nuts. After all, you were a fan - a big enough fan that you’d go to all 4 of his Wembley dates. If word ever got out, he’d have hoards of fans outside every hotel waiting to be the next lucky girl. He just couldn’t explain why he was so drawn to you.

“Thank god for that,” Harry sighed, throwing his head back. “I have places to be tomorrow, I need a good sleep.” He whipped the covers bad and climbed in next to you, rubbing his hands over his face. You were thrashing around, trying to find a comfy position. Settling on your side, you tried to scoot as close to the edge as possible to make this slightly less awkward. Neither of you were used to sharing a bed without the promise of ending up tangled around one another.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly now. “What are you wearing tomorrow love?” Pulling you head up to look at him, you giggled sweetly. That pet name could be dangerous for you. “Why do you want to know?,” you questioned. Suddenly, you felt shy about your outfit choice. You were saving your best outfit for the final date, and now you wished you had something flashier to tell him - although, he’d seen you in your cutesiest pyjamas so the damage may have already been done.

“Want to see if I can spot you in the crowd,” he replied, shrugging his bare shoulders under the duvet. You tapped on your nose as you replied, “baby, you don’t need to worry about spotting me. Anyway, what are you wearing?”

Harry copied you and tapped on his nose, before switching off the bedside lamp and calling out a soft ‘goodnight’. You were pinching yourself up and down your arms to make sure you weren’t already dreaming. You couldn’t believe an insomnia stroll turned into Harry Styles’ bed. The Harry Styles’ bed. If only you knew what the rest of the week would hold.

part two

#harry styles #harry smut #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry x fan #harry fic #Harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Taste of Shame

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex working, sexual tension ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn't no longer matter when he meets his friend's younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Until he met Criston and Robert at university he was a total loner, really only going to classes and shopping. Ever since he moved out of his family home, he didn't feel the need to interact with anyone except his mother and his youngest brother.

Nonetheless, once their quantum physics professor selected them as a group to tackle a joint project in his class, it turned out that they got along very well.

He was quiet and withdrawn, best at solving equations and finding the correct formulae; Robert threw interesting, chaotic insights and ideas from his sleeve, and Criston pulled it all together to form a whole.

They scored the highest possible grade and from then on they naturally stuck together; Robert and Criston didn't seem to mind that he usually didn't contribute to their discussions, simply allowing him to be in their company with a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine.

They often asked him where he got his money from, since, according to him, his parents did not help him financially to live in a completely different city. He usually answered evasively, feeling a squeeze in his throat in those moments, a fear that one day they would somehow find out how he made his living.

What he was doing.

That women paid him to tie them up, to beat them, to slap them, to degrade and humiliate them, to fuck them in ways he wouldn't even be able to explain, taking unspeakable satisfaction from it.

He was a professional; he signed contracts that included each party's boundary and safety words. He expected his clients to have medical examinations to make sure they didn't carry any diseases, but he used condoms anyway.

He rented a bedsit intended as a meeting place, with no intention of hosting anyone in his flat; his main rule was not to get emotionally involved, apart from having sex and entitling himself that his client was comfortable, he did not get into any conversations with them even though they tried to do so.

It started with one woman, Alys, who he met when he graduated from high school; it turned her on when he tied her up, when he fucked her while telling her she was a nobody, when he punished her and it shocked him what a tremendous sense of power it gave him.

She told him admiringly that he could be a professional dom and earn a lot from it, which gave him pause for thought. To her despair, he ended their relationship shortly after he started doing it for money, recognising that he didn't want to break his rule about not having a relationship, where she already knew far too much about him.

He was more careful with others.

They called him sir and knew nothing about him except what they read on the website.

He admired in a way how desperate some of them were, how much they were balancing on the edge of overdoing it; in a few cases he had to check their pulse to make sure he hadn't killed them.

His clients were not poor women and sometimes, for extra things or to show him their admiration, they paid him more than what they had agreed for; however, he never accepted excess money, knowing that if he broke the rules they would think they could expect more from him, which he was unwilling to allow.

So, for obvious reasons, he kept his profession to himself, fearing that if his friends found out about it they would think he was just fucked up. He genuinely liked them, as well as the field of study he was attending, and didn't want to change anything in his life.

When Robert invited him and Criston to his house for his birthday he agreed immediately, seeing no obstacles to celebrating with him; he knew that apart from him and Criston there would be a few more friends from his neighbourhood and he was fine with that.

When he got his car into his driveway he decided to have a smoke before going inside, tired after a long, intense session with his female client, wanting to clear his mind.

That's when he heard her for the first time.

"Are you Robert's friend?!"

He looked over his shoulder and saw her − she had jumped off the blue slim bike with the white basket in the front. Her hair was loose and in a slight disarray due to the wind, her face pink from exertion, her full lips parted slightly in a quickened breath, her large eyes shining with curiosity.

He felt everything he saw in his cock, looking at her pale, with his eyes imagining her moaning beneath him with that pleading, sweet voice to keep fucking her.

"− yeah −" He hummed in a slightly trembling voice, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, trying to hide what was happening to him, in what direction to his horror his thoughts had fled.

"That's wonderful! I'm Robert's sister. I forgot to buy candles for his cake, which was rather unfortunate considering it's his birthday and I had to go quickly to get them." She said breathing heavily as she walked with her bicycles deeper into the driveway, looking at him expectantly over her shoulder. "Do you have a lighter?"

He couldn't play the idiot and pretend he didn't have one, so, as she requested, they went around her house and walked inside from the terrace, walking quietly to the kitchen − he could hear the voices of Robert, Criston and the other guests in the distance.

She opened the fridge, which illuminated her pleasant, smiling face with a bright, bluish light, and slowly pulled out a meringue cake with a cucumber glaze decorated with berries.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I was making it for the first time. Can you help me?" She asked lightly, pulling candles from the pocket of her dress.

He just nodded, feeling his mind working in slow motion, his heart pounding like mad, his mind focused on her body and on her scent, some sweet, girly fruity perfume.

He thought, swallowing loudly, that she was like a ripe peach or strawberry, begging to be bitten into, to taste its flesh.

He pressed his lips together, sticking the last candle into the crisp texture of the meringue, thinking with despair that he was a disgusting man, that she was his friend's younger sister.

And above all, she was not his client.

He handed her a lighter; their faces lit up by the warm glow of the fire as she began to light the candles one by one. She smiled at him when she finished in a way that made him feel like saying he didn't give a shit about the candles, the cake and Robert's birthday − just to pull her panties off her legs and fuck her on the countertop.

"Let's go." She said warmly and he nodded, letting out the air from his lungs, watching her with a look that, had it not been for the darkness in the room, would surely have terrified her.

They walked into the living room; his sister began to sing a Happy Birthday loudly and the other guests joined her in chorus, Robert stood up embarrassed but clearly pleased. After a round of applause, he walked over to them and blew out the candles, saying happily that his little sister remembered how he loved the meringues and hugged her.

He lowered his gaze at the thought that they were close.

That he needed to pull himself together.

When Robert offered him a drink he immediately agreed, distraught and terrified at the thought of spending the whole evening in her company; she walked around the room with a smile, talking to everyone lightly as if she had known them for years.

At the same time, he craved and feared that she would eventually sit down next to him, noticing his distancing and tiredness and walked out into the garden, sitting down on a bench, lighting a cigarette.

He closed his eyes as he heard someone's footsteps and for some reason he knew, subconsciously felt, that it was her.

He smelled her scent as she sat down next to him with a quiet creak of old wood and slowly opened his eyelids, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was holding her drink, probably vodka with orange juice and mango, for some reason it seemed obvious to him that she only liked alcohol if it was sweet.

"Beautiful evening." She said warmly, softly, her gaze slightly dreamy, gazing up at the cloudless, starry sky, her body as if spilling over the backrest of the bench, her head lying comfortably on it, framed by her shiny hair.

He thought with embarrassment that he couldn't cause her pain even if she begged him to.

Though maybe he could slap her buttock a time or two before sinking his face between her thighs, leaving the red mark of his hand on her skin.

He swallowed loudly, taking another drag on his cigarette, looking ahead, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, the arousal he knew so well, his manhood twitched in his trousers.

He didn't answer.

After a moment, however, Criston came out to them, chatting them up, making him feel relieved, feeling like he was going to go mad because of her presence.

He left the party faster than he wanted to; Robert tried to stop him by saying that he could spend the night at his house, but he refused, terrified by this vision, knowing that he wouldn't last, that he would go to her room.

That one word from her would be enough to make him fuck her and regret it for the rest of his life.

He would leave her with nothing afterwards.

She seemed like a good, nice girl, deserving of a decent man who wouldn't think about tying her up.

As he drove home in his car he breathed out loud, somehow proud of himself, knowing that he had done the right thing, that maybe he wasn't as bad a person as he thought he was.

He fought with himself not to look for her on social media, and although he himself had accounts under pseudonyms with black squares in place of profile pictures, knowing that she was Robert's sister, finding her was too easy for him to resist.

So, in despair, he spent the evening giving up, recognising that if someone publishes something on the internet it means they agree to let others look at it. He swallowed loudly, surprised to see a new notification on Facebook and it was nothing other than an invitation from her.

He felt the cold sweat on his back and the quick, hard pounding of his heart, as if he was about to defuse a ticking bomb.

Accept?

Reject?

Do nothing?

He stared at his screen with his lips clenched and involuntarily clicked accept.

Fuck.

He ran his hand over his face, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but that if he removed her quickly from his friends now she'd still get a notification that he'd accepted her before and it would be weird to say the least.

He figured that she had surely only added him because he was a friend of her brother's and she had no intention of doing anything more with it.

He almost choked on his tea when he saw that she had sent him a message.

He stared at the chat bubble and clenched his eyes, clicking on it, unfolding the conversation, recognising that he wouldn't fall asleep if he didn't see what she had written to him.

He looked at her message with a fast-beating heart, reading it several times, swallowing quietly with a sense of some kind of relief that it had no subtext. It made him feel warm at the thought that, in essence, what she had written was kind and affectionate, expressing only her innocent concern and gratitude.

He figured he could write her back without any remorse that he was doing something wrong, for some reason feeling excited about talking to her.

He wrote back and sighed heavily, recognising that his reply was terribly dry and distant, but then thought that perhaps it was better. He twisted restlessly in his seat looking expectantly at his screen when he saw that after a moment she had displayed his message.

He involuntarily smiled reading it and thought she was sweet.

Over the next few days, he involuntarily returned to that brief exchange of words, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to somehow strike up a conversation with her again, although he didn't know how to do so.

"What are you thinking about, buddy?" Robert asked him with amusement, slapping him on the back with a friendly, masculine hand gesture; he swallowed loudly, pulled out of his reverie, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Nothing."

One of his clients had expressed a desire to meet again after their last session, wanting a more intense experience this time. Looking at her message, he ran his hand over his face, for some reason feeling doubts surging into his mind, though he didn't know what they stemmed from.

What would she think of him if she found out?

During the meeting with his client he had given her everything she wanted, but there had been no intimacy with penetration between them and he had satisfied her only with his hand.

He felt for some reason distanced from what he was doing, as if his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He imagined that if it had been her lying in front of him he would have done it differently, that he would have brought her to the edge of despair, but he would have had more understanding and patience, he would have been tender to her.

Why?

When it was all over and the woman had left he cleaned everything, threw the old bedding in the washing machine and put on the fresh one, so that it would be ready when he returned there.

He left and locked the flat, then ran down the staircase and headed for the car park across the street.

"Aemond!" He heard a happy, girlish, warm voice, her voice; he turned over his shoulder, terrified, for some unexplained reason certain that she had caught him in the act, even though they were standing in the middle of the street.

She jumped off her bike halfway down the road, grabbed the handlebars and ran over to him, a shopping bag in her basket, a cute fabric clasp backpack on her shoulders.

She was dressed in dark, long high-waisted trousers, pleasantly emphasising her waist and a short-sleeved T-shirt, her hair tied up in a braid that was partly blown by the wind.

She stood in front of him smiling broadly, in the light of the sun her face seemed even more gentle and soft to him, although she appeared to him to be nothing more than a figment of his imagination, so he merely stood and looked at her with his mouth slightly parted.

"Where are you going?" She asked lightly, her eyes shining with an innocent, childlike curiosity from which he felt a tightening in his throat; he thought she literally beamed with a kind of warmth from which his whole body shuddered.

He licked his lower lip quickly, swallowing loudly as he tried to get any meaningful sentence out.

"I'm just getting home." He said in a low, cool, distant voice, having no idea why he sounded that way − he had the feeling that his whole body was somehow trying to prevent what was just happening to him. She blinked, cocking her head as if she was expecting the rest of his statement, though he wasn't planning one.

"I…I had my business to take care of. And you?" He changed the subject quickly wanting to distract her from himself − she smiled even wider, shifting from foot to foot.

He noticed the outline of her breasts under her T-shirt proving she had no bra underneath and looked away, horrified and aroused by this discovery.

Fuck.

If she was his, he'd show her what he thought of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut wondering what he was even thinking about when the last thing he was looking for was a relationship.

"I'm just going to a lecture by my favourite professor in the history of philosophy. Want to join me? Entry is free!" She said clearly excited by her own idea and proposal, and he swallowed loudly, looking at her in disbelief, analysing quickly what she had said, whether he should do it.

He had no commitments, his whole evening was free.

He hummed under his breath, putting his hands in the pockets of his black trousers.

"How far is it from here?" He asked hesitantly, and she waved her hand.

"The lecture will be held at the Community Centre, two streets away. Five minutes' walk."

He looked at her, at her pretty, overjoyed face, and gave in.

"Why not."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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soap-ify · 4 months

Text

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

02 — you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.

chapter summary — after chaos broke out during your work, simon attempts to comfort you in his own way.

tags / cw — angst, reader almost has a panic attack, reactions from bad anxiety, reader is yelled at, verbal assault, violence (simon beats someone up), tending to wounds i don't know how that thing works, just reader and simon being awkward, simon is very self aware, smut 18+, outercourse, grinding through clothes, p in v. [3.8k words]

☆ reader written with afab anatomy but gender neutral terms.

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

If you had the choice to disappear into the void, you would.

The cafe was quite crowded, which was a good thing for the place but not so welcoming for you. The customers kept on rushing in, rambling out orders while you hastily gave them their stuff while trying your best to not mess anything up. You knew the others were working just as much as you, and you didn’t want to seem selfish by thinking that you were having it the worst out there.

Though your brain truly was horribly overwhelmed with the amount of faces in this small cafe. The heat made your head throb, causing you to rub your hands over your face and take a few deep breaths, afraid that you’d break down in front of everyone, feeling your palms getting clammy. It was so hard to keep your voice controlled and polite while talking to the others, making sure that it didn’t crack.

You despised busy days.

Simon was sitting alone at the far edge seat inside the cafe, a cup of bitter black coffee on the table while his brown eyes blankly stared at you, observing your struggles that you seemingly masked quite well in front of others, but well, not for him.

The rest of the taskforce wasn’t here today since it wasn’t a weekend, and normally Simon himself would have never willingly come over at a crowded place like this. But he was feeling too restless in his apartment. Maybe he just needed fresh air. His mind kept on making dumb excuses, even though he was fully aware that he just wished to see you.

Plus it was always somewhat comforting knowing that he would keep you safe.

You were aware of him, aware of his eyes on you and words couldn’t describe how grateful you were. It was as if his familiar presence was the only thing keeping you sane during this shift, knowing that once this was over, you could talk to him if he’d let you.

You had just given the person standing in the front of the queue their coffee, watching them leave before the other person came at the front — some guy who was probably around your age, looking at you with a wolfish grin plastered on his lips that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.

“What would you like, sir?” You asked politely, fumbling with the fabric of your apron behind the counter, thankfully hidden from everyone’s sight. Inhale, exhale.

“A large cup of espresso, sugar.” That man replied, the pet name causing you to internally grimace. Fucking disgusting.

You silently nodded and went back to go over to the coffee machine, only to find out that one of the ingredients had run out. Today truly was your unlucky day.

A wave of panic shot over you as you walked over to the counter once more, facing that man. “I-I am sorry, sir… It seems like the espresso can’t be made due to the shortage of some stuff…” You were unable to hold in the little stammer in your words this time, your breath hitching at the way some anger began making its way over to that man’s face, his mood taking a huge swing. Volatile.

It scared, no, terrified you to see someone angry over something you said. It reminded you of your own parents, reminded you of things you no longer had wished to recall at this point.

“Fuck you mean shortage? What kind of cafe is this?!” The man snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you, his seething rage causing you to freeze on your spot. Fuck, everyone was looking. You hated this — hated the way you flinched at his loud voice, hated the way everyone was staring at you, silence taking over the cafe before soft murmurs could be heard here and there. Gossiping about this.

As if this was just a joke to them, as if all of this was normal.

“I-I understand your anger, sir… But—” Your words were cut off by his impatient slam on the counter. Your eyes widened and everything for a second seemed too silent, too unbearable. Don’t panic, don’t panic…

“You useless slag. Why don’t you just quit this job and—”

“Fucking get off her, you bastard.” A large hand grabbed the strange man’s collar and shoved him out of your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Simon. You had almost forgotten that he was here too. Another wave of humiliation and helplessness hit you as you just stood there, feeling like a weak idiot.

You didn’t even have to speak, not that you were going to, before Simon pulled the man back up on his feet. “You. Come with me.” He growled and dragged the man out of the cafe, leaving behind an unsettling thick layer of silence caused by the commotion. Over a fucking coffee.

Everyone saw it. Everyone saw you getting yelled at. Everyone saw you being fucking useless.

You soon realised that tears had begun blurring your vision, causing you to hastily undo your apron and scurry off into the staff room.

Simon had that horrendous man thrown into an eerily quiet alley with no one in sight except them both.

“Who do you think you’re messing with?” He growled under his breath, fingers curled up into fists, knuckles a bit bruised and bleeding after having repeatedly punched the man on his face, resulting in a broken nose and some broken teeth. Honestly deserved worse.

Simon didn’t know why he was so angry. He just hated seeing you already on the edge before this man just came in and messed everything up. How dare he yell at you? Scumbag. Simon wanted to spit at him and throw him in the bin like the fucking garbage he was, but he knew that someone could always walk by even in an isolated alley like this and he definitely didn’t want unnecessary attention.

Adrenaline was coursing through Simon’s veins and he could hear the blood rushing into his ears. He looked scary above the man, brown eyes wide and deadly. The fact that his face was covered in that balaclava made him look all the more inhuman.

Thank goodness you weren’t here to witness this.

In Simon’s mind, this was who he really was. Roughened up and turned into this rageful mess after years of brutal training and even worse missions. Trained like a fucking dog. Maybe that was what he was. A dog. Not a human, just a pathetic dirty thing who only knew the worst, who only knew the wrongs.

He was his own poison, killing himself on his own.

With one last kick on the stomach, Simon left the man to weep alone in the alley. He didn’t have to deal with someone like that anymore, all he could think was of you and how you probably were feeling right now.

Your manager had luckily let you end your shift early today, albeit still having scolded you for creating such a ruckus inside the cafe. For ruining a nice busy day. It made your throat tighten, making you feel as if everyone was blaming you for this. Maybe it really was your fault.

You silently stood outside the cafe, staring down at your hands that were clasped together, your fingers visibly trembling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear the fog in your head. Your moment of silence was broken by the familiar sound of soft footsteps nearing you.

Yes, you had memorised his footsteps. You knew everyone’s, actually. And his were your favourite — oddly soft and quiet, juxtaposing to what you initially expected from someone of his size. He was probably very skilled in sneaking up behind the people.

Simon silently stood besides you, not uttering a word. For a whole minute, it was just silence between you, your eyes nervously darting around before landing on his hands that were uncharacteristically not covered in his usual gloves that he wore all the time except for when you both were all alone.

And that’s when you noticed it, his bleeding knuckles.

“Simon…” You breathed out in panic, voice laced with concern as your eyes repeatedly shot back and forth between his face and his hands. What the fuck happened?

“Didn’t want my gloves getting dirty.” He mused gruffly, his eyes slowly looked down at you, causing you to knit your brows even more.

“He’s not gonna bother you again, love. No one is.” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, one hand of his reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. He really wasn’t bothered by the mild cuts on his knuckles. In fact, he really didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking of bandaging it.

“Let’s go to my place.” You urged him, lips a bit pouty while worry was etched over your face.

He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

Once you both reached your apartment, you were quick to push him onto the couch and hastily grab a first aid kit, scurrying over to sit beside him on the couch.

“Show me your hands.” You mumbled softly, causing him to reluctantly let your gentle hands hold his callused, larger hands. What a contrast. He felt guilty for making you hold such a dirty, damaged thing.

You were quick to clean up his hands, carefully touching the cuts with the cotton pads. You didn’t even want to imagine what Simon was capable of. Your eyes scanned his hands carefully, admiring every scar on his skin.

You never really thought much of it. Sure you knew that he was in the military, always doing some sort of highly dangerous work. But you never really saw that side of his — scary one. So it was fairly easy to forget his real strength until moments like these came to remind you. Though you never really disliked him for it.

You don’t think you could ever dislike him. He was just… everything.

Ever since you both have come to your place, all you could think about was how he stood up for you. You didn’t like pity, but the fact that someone cared, especially if that someone was Simon, made you feel all the more warmer aside.

He did care for you, right? Were you too fond of him? Too in awe of him?

You dabbed some antiseptic on the cuts before applying some cute panda bandaids on his knuckles. He stared at them questionably, brows furrowed though an amused scoff soon escaped his lips behind the mask. “You don’t own normal bandaids?”

“These are normal!” You grumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Just kiddin’... They are cute like you.”

You got up to put the kit away and wash your hands before coming back to sit besides him, pulling your knees to your chest, silence filling the room up once more.

Simon could see how you were still shaken up, the frown etched on your face accentuating the storm of thoughts raging inside your head. It made his heart ache, though he didn’t move a muscle at all, silently staring at you from the corner of his.

He didn’t know how to comfort you at all.

All he knew was how to handle guns and beat up people. All he knew was how to ignite a sense of terror within people.

Simon didn’t want to think of himself as a monster, the word alone making him think of no one other than his father. He wasn’t that man, he wasn’t.

He sighed behind his balaclava after a while and shuffled a bit closer to you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.

Your body tensed up for a second, and he was just about to back away once he sensed it before you eventually relaxed and leaned into him, a trembling sigh escaping your lips. He was warm, and you couldn’t help but think of him as a blanket that was shielding you from the world. A protector. Though he really wasn’t that, right? What even was he to you?

You didn’t want to think of that right now, not when your brain was already so exhausted after everything that happened today, the little bit of confidence you had already shattered.

Simon’s hand slowly snaked behind your back, drawing lazy discreet circles on your waist through the fabric of your shirt. You could make out some of them — a circle, then a star, then some random incomprehensible shape that he probably just made up on the spot and then a star again. This act of his made you smile a bit, your eyes fluttering up to look at him, only to find him looking back at you.

You had caught him staring at you multiple times before, but this moment felt so different — more cozy and intimate. It made your heart skip a beat, your brain feeling all foggy due to the sudden wave of happiness shooting within you.

Simon probably noticed the change in the air too since his hand was quick to pull back and settle on his lap, fingers drumming on his thigh, pretending as if nothing happened. It left you confused, disappointed even, but more so at yourself then at him. Why were you making every little interaction with him such a big deal? He didn’t like you the way you liked him.

Simon was silent for a while, multiple thoughts going on within his head. His large hand slowly drifted towards you once more, this time towards your thigh, fingers absent-mindedly caressing you. Well, he could comfort you in the way he knew of.

Your body was quick to react to his touch, your breath hitching while you were simultaneously a bit embarrassed of how you were so used to his touch, used to the way his caresses would make you squirm. You could already pick up on his intention behind this, to somehow get your mind off whatever happened in your job today.

“C’mere, love…”

His callused hands pulled you onto his lips with ease, holding onto your hips, your face facing his, eyes meeting. You swear you could feel the world slowing down every time your eyes would meet his, his stare alone coaxing you to lean into him, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck while your fingers curled up into the fabric of the large grey hoodie he was wearing.

“I’ll take care of you. I promise.” His gruff voice came out as a whisper, making your heart swell yet ache at the same time. Yes, please take care of me, these words repeated over and over in your head while you sheepishly nodded against his neck.

His hands were quick to work, not letting you do a single thing, lifting your hips up gently as he slid down your pants, carefully removing them all the way down, letting it drop to the ground. Your hands reached down in attempted to undo his pants, though he just lightly smacked your hands away and shook his head, huffing softly as he unbuckled the belt and unzipped his pants on his own, tugging them alongside his boxers just a bit so his cock was free from the restraints, already semi-hard.

Your mouth watered at the familiar sight that always made you all heated up and blustered, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes stared down at his cock, admiring the veins that adorned it. It was just perfect — girthy and uncut.

“Simon…” A meek whine left your lips while your eyes literally pleaded him to do something, anything to just somehow make your mind empty, to let you forget about everything, to let you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that you were with him.

His cock twitched at the noise you made, one hand of his tight gripping your hip in position while his other hand gently grabbed the base of his cock, beginning to rub the head against your clothed cunt, watching the way a wet patch was forming on your panties.

“D-Don’t tease me like this!” You grumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt the swollen head of his now hardened up cock bumping against your clothed clit, making your hips bucking towards him, desperate for more.

“Don’t nibble your lip like that, love. You’re gonna bruise it.” He breathed out, his eyes falling onto your lips that looked so kissable, making him clench his jaw behind that balaclava of his. No, he couldn’t kiss you.

He continued to play with you like this, rubbing and smearing his precum on your panties, continuing to grind against your clothed cunt, ruining this pair of panties. You mentally noted that you should buy some new ones this weekend.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that you started to feel the familiar tight knots building in your abdomen, a soft whimper leaving your lips while your fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie, desperately grinding back against his clock. “P-Please, please, Si… So close, pl—”

He stopped, gently pushing you slightly backwards on his lap so his cock was no longer touching you. A frustrated sob left your lips as you glared at him in confusion, eyes all glossy and he couldn’t help but grin behind his mask, noticing how adorable you looked like this. He already knew that he had successfully distracted you from your thoughts. He knew this wasn’t the ideal way. Hell, he should have actually cuddled with you and shared some comforting words. But fuck, he can’t. He shouldn’t. He is already being selfish enough with this whole thing you two have going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk progressing into something more.

He was a fucking asshole, he knew it. He knew of how he didn’t deserve you, and you definitely didn’t deserve a broken, fucked up in the head man like him. You deserved better.

But you two were already so far into this, weren’t you?

“Ssh, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum properly.” He assured you, gently pulling you into him once more, his fingers pushing your panties aside and giving your throbbing clit a few sweet rubs before positioning the head of his twitching cock in front of your entrance, looking at you while you were looking down at the spot your bodies were about to be connected at, literally swooning.

“Please…” You pleaded, feeling his cock gently smear your slick all over your folds before beginning to gently push into your tightness, a quiet grunt leaving his lips at the way you clenched around you, still struggling to fully get used to the way his girth would stretch you out. Your head fell onto his shoulder, panting softly as you tried to relax, feeling him slide into you slowly, inch by inch until he was fully snug inside your tight cunt, the cloth of your panties gently grazing against the side of his shaft.

“Takin’ me so well, aren’t ya? Always do. That pretty cunt of yours is so perfect.” He praised hoarsely into your ears, his affectionate words driving you over the edge, feeling him begin to lazily fuck his cock in and out of your fluttering cunt, hitting the spongy spots inside you with ease, as if having them all memorised within his head. Shaky moans would leave your lips at the blissful feeling, eyes rolling back into your head once you felt the head of his cock slam against your cervix, him making sure that it wasn’t painful at all. His hand massaged your hip gently, fondling the flesh and gently guiding you to grind against him while his other hand slid in between your connected bodies, caressing the moist skin of your thigh before moving in between to lightly rub your clit, feeling you clenching around him tightly.

You felt fuzzy, leaning into him fully to let his warmth relax you, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against you while your eyes fluttered shut, head fully nuzzled into his neck. You felt the knots building up again, even stronger this time, leaving you with no time to warn him before your orgasm washed over you hard, your walls spasming around him while a muffled moan left your lips, his fingers rubbing your clit just heightening up your sensitivity. He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with adoration at the way you cummed around his cock, his shaft having a white ring around him, filling his heart with a sickeningly proud feeling at the realisation that only he was capable of making you cum so hard, of making you get rid of all those thoughts.

His own orgasm flooded within him soon after, balls tightening up as he pulled his cock out of your cunt and gave it a few pumps, spraying the thick strings of his cum all over your sweaty, trembling thighs.

Both of you were breathing heavily, tingles spreading through your skin that made you smile at how full of pleasure you felt right now, all floaty as you fully collapsed onto him, clinging onto his tight while his sticky cock rested against your inner thigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.

“Si… Thank you so much…” You sleepily babbled, your breathing getting calmer.

He wished that he could show you the stupid smile that was spread on his face right now.

“I am goin’ to go for deployment after two days.”

He randomly announced that night, causing you to freeze and look away from the movie you both were watching and towards him, eyes all wide. What the fuck? And here you were being happy that he had decided to stay with you tonight, having agreed to spend some time with you.

You were making it all up, all this happiness and whatever feelings and signals you thought you were getting from him. Deployment. God, you hated that word and the way it filled you with dread, the way it always left you all anxious during the weeks he’d be away, fighting god knows who, literally a mistake away from walking on a bridge from life to death.

“How long…?” You quietly asked, trying not to seem so fazed by his sudden words, fingers fiddling with your shirt while your eyes looked away.

“Dunno… I believe it won’t be longer than two weeks. Don’t worry, love.” He mumbled after a while, subtle warmth lingering in his voice as his hand reached to gently caress the back of your head, causing you to sigh softly and lean into him, frowning a bit.

“Okay… Stay safe, Si.”

You trust him. Of course you do.

Liar. Fucking liar. It had been three weeks, three weeks without any contact from him, or any news from him. He wasn’t on this mission with Kyle as far as you knew, so there was no point in asking him.

Was Simon safe? Was he wounded? Did he get captured? Did he get tired of you? Is he finally getting rid of you? Is he… abandoning you?

You tried to shake these thoughts off your mind, trying to remember that his job was a hard one. Still, you stupidly kept grabbing your phone, desperate for any notification or noise.

Only to be met with silence.

notes : thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter :( !! i feel truly grateful. also... feeling evil i love fucking stuff up for simon.

#simon. let's go to therapy together.#simon is struggling #like actually #my projection on reader is crazy on this one #yaaiad : masterlist #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic

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brittle-doughie · 2 months

Note

*Y/N Cookie Looking at the broken coffe machine* "So.... "

*Y/N stare at Cookies Nearby* "Who broke it?"

*Silent* .......

"I'm not mad I just wanna know"

Sea Fairy Cookie: “I did. I broke your-“

You: No, no you didn’t. Fire Spirit?

Fire Spirit Cookie: “Don’t look at me. Look at Wind Archer Cookie”

Wind Archer Cookie: “What? I didn’t break it.”

“Huh, that’s weird. How did you know it was broken?”

“Because it’s sitting right in front of us and it’s broken”

“Suspicious”

“No, it’s not!”

Millennial Tree Cookie: “If it matters. Probably not, but Abyss Monarch was the last one to use it-“

Abyss Monarch Cookie: “Liar! I don’t even drink that crap!”

“Oh? Really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?”

“I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles, everyone knows that, Millennial Tree Cookie!”

“Ok ok. Let’s not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Y/N Cookie.”

You: No! Who broke it?!

“Y/N Cookie. Xylitol Nova Cookie has been awfully quiet-“

Xylitol Nova Cookie: “Really?!”

“Oh yeah, really!”

(Mass arguing ensues)

You didn’t have the heart to tell them that you had broke it. You burnt your hand on it, so you punched it.

You predicted in 10 minutes that they’ll be at each others’ throats, oh dear…

#brittle answers #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #cookie run #crob x reader #crob x you #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

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mossrockpog · 6 months

Text

i think we know who broke the coffee machine

#qsmp federation #moss posts #qsmp #cucurucho lore

345 notes · View notes

mrsackermannx · 10 months

Text

˚ ༘ *ೃ༄ ❝ COME BACK TO ME…❞

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: gojo’s been plotting to get you back ever since you broke up.

୨୧ word count: 4.7k

୨୧ content: gojo satoru/reader, smut, no-curses au/office au, infidelity, exes to lovers, afab reader, light angst (strategic marriage/ breakup mentions), praise kink, porn with plot, love confession, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc), creampie, pussy-slapping, squirting, sprinkle of degradation, slight exhibitionism.

୨୧ author’s note: gojo brainrot finally gave way to some writing hehe, still getting used to characterising him so feedback is appreciated angels <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Don't shit where you eat," they say. They say that dating your colleague is never going to end well. However, even the most stoic people have a penchant for such relationships, not to mention the secret hopeless romantics.

Workplace romances can make even affairs appear heartwarmingly wholesome. After all, there was something about trudging up stair after stair when the elevator was too full to them smiling at you just a desk away. Their voice fond as they offer you a sunny "Good morning."

That person who never forgets your favourite vending machine coffee, who pats your shoulder and tells you 'you're doing your best,' who lends you their umbrella, who opens up to you over a beer after overtime. Who notices when you get a haircut, whose eyes are seldom on their computer screen but on your lips.

Not that you'd ever been unfaithful, not yet. But you'd heard countless stories. Girls talk, after all. You didn't judge, yet the point was although workplace romances could be wholesome and even sexually thrilling. They were sensational and exciting until they were over.

Until that person no longer stays with you through overtime, bitter memories of you chugging vending machine coffee, swapping candy and chips together and then spit just like you and Gojo always did. You definitely never told anyone how many times you fucked on the desks of the colleagues you both thought sucked, especially not after you'd broken up.

You were together for a while, and although you couldn't say it out loud because it was still too painful, you missed him. A lot. In fact, you spent most nights, fist screwed up at your sides, eyes blurring in the darkness, questioning if there would always be that void he left that no one could ever fill.

Though, breaking up didn't cause the type of animosity that made people scurry from rooms when you interacted. Instead, it confused the hell out of your colleagues. It hadn't even been half a year since, and you and Gojo didn't appear to hate each other at all.

But the pain lingering in your heart ached and was annoying and inconvenient, like a stubbed toe that felt sore and tender for weeks and weeks—but in your case, months. However, Gojo was hardly being subtle with his efforts to ever so secretly win you back at every opportunity. He didn't mind playing the long game. He was going to be your last.

All of you at the company came from important families in high social circles, marriage and dating. Love. It often came down to strategy, which was the only reason you were dating Miyano Haru, a Kyoto University graduate! CEO of a cybersecurity company!

Guilt gripped at your gut as you yawned at the thought.

Your families were shooting for a marriage ceremony during next year's cherry blossom season. But until then, Gojo wasn't slamming the brakes anytime soon.

Whether that be surprising you with your favourite lunches, leaving tickets for movie screenings, galleries, or museums on your desk, or sending Google calendar invites to restaurant reservations or spa appointments via your work emails across the office floor. With sweet messages like,

Gojo Satoru has sent a "Spa day pamper package for two for this Friday.”

Surprise! You look tired this week baby. Let's go here Friday, yeah?

Ps: You still look pretty, though.

Just like you were still fucking dating.

So today, when you're pitching a marketing idea in the monthly meeting, and Yaga cuts you off. Gojo cannot help himself.

Yaga was a great man, someone Gojo was grateful to for many reasons, but fuck was this man old-fashioned and unaware of it. He refused to see your potential because he was eternally sceptical of the efficacy of women's ideas.

But you had the best ideas today. Gojo smiled because your ideas were always the best and that’s why this decision was so easy. He could fondly recall your rants about Yaga after every monthly meeting where you'd complain about his blatant misogyny; even Sukuna would let a reluctant chuckle loose to the show.

All of you in the canteen at your table, Shoko, Utahime, Nobara and Maki at your side, growing passionate about gender pay gaps and audacious men at your company and then the world over.

Nanami always said the right thing, and so did Higuruma, Yuuta and Choso. Gojo decidedly took the credit for Megumi being so eloquent and respectful. Inumaki was outrageous at times, and Yuuji was a lover of all people and argued fiercely for both sides.

Those times were always fun.

Yaga peered over his glasses, "Why don't you expand again on how you plan to execute this idea, Reader?”

With one hand typing idly at his laptop and the other seating his chin, Gojo sighed so loudly all the eyes in the room cast to him. "Reader obviously has the best pitch for this project."

He grinned as Yaga's knuckles grew white and he humphed before his voice sharpened, "So, are we really gonna make her explain it again?"

"For once, even I agree with him," Toji added.

Gojo winked as he looked up at you, and you felt yourself melt a little, even under the icy breeze of the conference room's AC.

Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara huddled together under the oppressive communication Gojo and Yaga's eyes were engaging in.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, "So, what are you waiting for? Give her the project."

Nanami offered you a small smile and nodded before his expression soured, and he spoke before Yaga could open his mouth to protest. "I, for once, also agree with Gojo. I think we should open this pitch up for a vote?"

Choso raised his arm, "Me too. I think it's just what we need, in fact."

Maki nudged Yuuta and Inumaki before confidently booming, "I volunteer our assistance on the project!"

Albeit a little flustered, you bowed and thanked the room as Yaga reluctantly signed the dream project of the company to you. Sure, you were ecstatic you'd finally been recognised for your hard work and dedication, but you wanted to kill Gojo.

What didn't help was the aggressively obvious effect he had on you still. Sure, you had a new boyfriend, but Gojo didn't care. So that's why you found yourself lingering outside of his office door at 9pm because you knew he wouldn't care one bit. Like that man ever did overtime, you tsked.

Gojo had been playing a game with you, knowing you'd finally relent, that you'd come to your senses and stop denying yourself of what you really fucking wanted. "Be selfish."

Everybody you'd asked today had told you he'd stayed in his office all day. So yeah, he really was doing this on purpose. His light was on, and he was baiting you, and you hated how easy it was for you to take it.

You knew he wanted you to barge in there, all flustered and mouthy, so he could shove you to your knees and fuck your throat open.

Your boyfriend Miyano was sweet, he could talk about his feelings, and he didn't run away from emotional intimacy like others had. Like Gojo always had. But your family had set you up with him even though your shattered heart was still just that. Shattered. Your heart had been reduced to fragments— to a puzzle that only one genius could solve, he wasn’t prepared to give anybody guidance in the matter either. After all, geniuses couldn’t explain how to do the things they found easy.

And although you were the one that ended things with Gojo, it hurt all the same.

There was nothing wrong with Miyano per se. He came from a respectable family, one your family could bear you marrying into; though the Gojo clan would have been amazing, the Miyano clan wasn't terrible either.

But you never wanted your family to arrange a relationship or marriage for you. You fell for Gojo instantly and hard. You loved him like you never loved anybody else. He thrilled you, challenged you, and made it seem like the world was too small for you both and that you could see it all when you stood at his side. He made everything and every day exciting but had the vexing ability to make you feel safe and at home all the same.

Gojo Satoru was irreplaceable in every facet of the word, in his work, friendships, and relationships. As fickle as he could appear, he was the first to call in a crisis and someone you could wholeheartedly depend on.

But Miyano was sweet and emotionally forthcoming but…entirely too normal. You didn't yearn to peel back his layers one by one and didn't care much for his childhood stories, unpopular opinions, or core principles. But you treasured the few times you’d sat with Gojo, pestering him to tell you anything deeper, anything that no one else knew. Watching with sparkling eyes as his voice grew so quiet you had to follow his lips until your eyes blurred instead.

But it was rare he shared anything too personal with you. He had trouble with it more than most. Some nights, although you were sleeping in the same bed, you felt miles apart.

Gojo had a wall with everybody else, like a layer of infinity that meant nobody could really touch him or delve deeper. They only saw and knew the surface that reflected back to them like a mirror. No one could truly ever get close.

But it wasn't supposed to be the case for you, was it?

A fond and familiar laugh yanked you from your reverie, "Did you come to thank me? Because you can thank me by going to dinner with me tomorrow."

How was he larger than the door frame? You all but scowled as he leant down and tapped his cheek. "I also accept kisses as a form of repayment if you're willing," he said silkily, a jaunty grin on his lips at your expression. “With interest.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you huffed, wilfully ignoring the growing heat ping-ponging between your bodies. "Why did you do it?" Your brows knotted, "I wanted to get it on my own, Satoru. And my pitch was strong enough. I didn't need your help."

He threw his hands up and yawned obnoxiously, smoothing the back of his hair down, "Well, what can I say? I'm a doer, not a talker."

You huffed, “No, I'm sure you're always talking."

"You got me there, but" he checked either side of the corridor before he looped his arm around your waist and yanked you into his office. “Game over.”

"Satoru, I-" Your voice fell into a whimper as he flipped you against his door, his lips ghosting your earlobe as he caged you in.

"Maybe it's because I know you like to hear my voice," he whispered. "I know you like being talked through it. And, I know you didn’t need my help, we just needed a little push.”

We needed a final straw.

You swallowed, fists clenched at your sides as his body suffocated yours. Heat quickly crawled up your cheeks as his large hands slid slowly down your sides, the familiar smell of his cologne igniting memories from the last times you smelt it so closely. Kissing down his throat, across his collarbones-

"What are you doing?" You finally mustered, your voice a breathless squeak. Seconds passed, and the tension blazed and kindled, refusing to be extinguished into silence. You didn't dare turn around to see him enjoying you like this.

"Nothing, nothing you don't want me to do," he said in a lilting voice, hitching the hem of your skirt up half an inch. "You've always been so vocal, so I doubt you'd lose your voice in a time like this, would you?"

"No," you hissed, curbing any further speech in case you fucking stammered.

"Don't worry though, baby. You're easy," he scoffed, "and you never stay quiet, not with me.”

“Oh fuck you.” You gasped as he shoved his knee between your thighs to part them.

“Oh I will. But if that wimpy boyfriend of yours is doing his job, then I shouldn’t find your panties soaked in a minute, should I, princess?"

A breath passed, and then he hitched it up a little further, resting his chin on your shoulder to taunt you more. "I see the way you look at me, baby. I know you and that look in your eyes. It tells me all I need to know, princess."

His hand caressed your quivering thighs, brushing your stomach and pausing at your chest. He gripped one breast before the other before it settled upon your throat, and he tipped your head back.

His lips travelled down your temple, to your cheek, and to your neck, where he spoke, "Hm? Ignoring me isn't quite your style. Isn't that why you came here today?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, and then you knew you were truly fucked. Watching as he pulled away with a grin spreading as slow and molten as melted chocolate.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he whispered, blue eyes alight when you turned and showed him the blown-out lust glazing your eyes. "There we go, baby, that's it. Gonna kiss me?"

You nodded, already too far gone. His hand cupped the back of your head, and he met you halfway in a slow, sensual kiss.

Your fronts drew together, and he shimmied up your skirt until it became a corset. Then he cupped your cunt, the pads of his fingers trailing feather light. Your vision hazed, and your fists curled tighter into his shirt.

Your features were contorted beautifully with lust. "Do not tease me right now."

He laughed as you scowled, his heart aching. He'd missed you so damn much.

"Oh? Want me to rub your pussy, baby?" he cooed, long fingers smearing the slick oozing through your panties.

"Now I know what you fucking came for,” he groaned breathily into your lips, waiting for your sign to continue. Your panties were the door, and his dumbing teasing movements were tentative little knocks. But he knew you liked to be stripped bare and fucked like you were his. This was just the final round of his game.

You bucked your hips forward, needing more, needing him. You clung to him, tugging on his tie, "Satoru, Satoru, more, please," you whimpered through his kisses.

"I only satisfy what's mine, but you're not mine anymore, are you, sweet girl? So what can I do? Nothing."

You eagerly shook your head in protest, on your tip toes, just to drag your mouth down his jaw and neck. "Even though this needy pussy is leaking all over my fingers, responding to me like I own her," he tutted, "but I don't, do I? Pretty girl."

You made a noise half-whimper, half-growl, palming him through his pants until he hissed and then broke his feigned amusement from just how much you were riling him up. "I am yours, Satoru, always, always," you panted.

"I know that baby, but I need to know if she still is." He yanked your panties up so roughly the fabric strained against your clit and made you moan so lewdly you quickly covered your mouth.

"Needy girl," he said lowly before he drew his hand back and slapped your pussy. You moaned even louder, falling weakly into his chest. But you hardly fell far, as he grabbed your face in one hand and leant close.

"You like it when I slap your needy little pussy like this, baby?" His smile moved a millimetre as your eyes darted to his long, pretty fingers. "Want me to bury my fingers inside it till you come too? So you can stop being so needy?"

"Please, Satoru."

"Then show me, show me how much you want them," he whispered, eyes shooting down between you both as he started to circle your clit, not daring to touch it.

"Show me you're dying for it, and we can forget about all of this mess, can't we? You've just gotta show me who knows this pussy best.” The growing gravel in his voice turned the words into ragged commands.

In raptured submission, you yanked aside your panties and guided his fingers, back arching against the door as you ran them back and forth against your soaked cunt. Your breaths finally flew fluidly through the air, like his touch was what your body needed to convert the carbon dioxide.

His jaw grew slack at the sight of you, getting yourself off on his fingers, clumsily rubbing your swollen clit against his fingertips, breaths huffing from your nose in the exertion.

He leant into the beautiful image of you, moaning in your ear as your slick drowned his fingers. The slick wet sounds of your cunt as you run them back and forth, rapidly unravelling him.

"Look at me," he demanded, plunging two of his fingers knuckle deep until it squelched when you didn’t comply in seconds. You let out a humiliating whimper. The pleasure of the sudden yet sweet stretch danced through every nerve.

He grinned, fucking his fingers inside, “You look so pretty like this, I should take a photo.”

"I can't…." You couldn't speak, not when his fingers were relentless inside like this, clenching and fluttering as he bullied that spot inside you.

But his name was a never-ending hot, sweaty mantra.

"Trying to give me scraps, huh? But you're mine," he spat.

"No, I need you, Satoru. I need only you, only you," you babbled.

The lustful look in your eyes catapulted him over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore, his palm granting sweet friction to your clit as he fucked you like the world was about to end. "I know you need it, baby. I've got you. I know.”

He tried to undo your buttons with his free hand but was too fucked out to do it, grunting for your help, so you did immediately. "Say the words, and I'll stretch this sweet pussy out with my cock after you come, baby.”

"I'm yours, please. Fuck me," you whimpered, your entire body shaking as pleasure climbed through your body, building until you felt the pressure about to burst. Your hands roamed his body, eager to feel him as you removed your own shirt.

But like an animal, he was all over you, kissing, licking, and biting as you squirmed close to your climax. His lips closed around your nipple, and your spine straightened at the softness until he bites it hard.

You yelped, but he only laughed, "Hurts? Don't care, baby, it hurts seeing you with that loser, the number of times I've had to come in my fucking hand because of you."

The lewd sloshes of your pussy grew louder, and Gojo delighted in how you were now dripping onto the floor. So, he finally granted you mercy, pulsing his hand until you came in wild thrashing waves that rippled violently through your body.

"Oh yeah? Did that feel good, pretty girl?" he whispered, tilting your chin to devour your breathless mouth. The press of his lips and the erotic flicks of his tongue were making you throb wildly on his fingers. "See, you do like it when I talk.”

He let out such an attractive laugh at your glare that you fluttered around him again. "Baby again? I'm not gonna leave this pussy just yet, let up, or I won't be able to get my cock inside," he hummed. "Isn't that what we both want?"

"Then do it. Put it in me." You spread yourself, and he bit back a moan. His eyes flickered at how you shook when his thumb brushed your clit experimentally.

Your brows knitted at the lingering sensation, “Please, put it in me, now."

"Oh baby, but if you keep squeezing like that." Gojo grew dizzy at how your pussy refused to let him go, helping you tug away his belt and zip down his pants. Hazy, as you let up enough for him to take his fingers out of your spasming cunt.

"You really gonna let me fuck you right here, huh?"

His eyes were half-lidded at the sight of you in your office heels, panties soaked and half-pulled down, shirt hanging limply and open, your skirt a thick black belt hugging your torso.

You were a mess, his mess, his pretty mess.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful." He knelt down, working down your panties with his breath uneven, kissing each knee as he worked them down each ankle and then tossed them behind him.

"Shall I tell you something?" he mused, running his hands up and down your thighs as he kissed and licked at the slick threatening to stick them together.

"Yes, tell me." Your hands slid instinctively into his hair as he reached your pussy and kissed it.

"I'll be honest, yeah?"

He was waiting for a shaky, "Yeah?" so you granted him one laced through a whimper, so he suckled on your clit in return before speaking.

“I can pamper you. Spoil you, fuck you, take care of you." His voice was almost hoarse, thick and affected by something other than lust—a different emotion.

"I know that Toru, I do."

"N' I can—love you, too," he murmured, voice so uncharacteristically small but soft like it used to be when he spoke to you at night.

You gasped. Gojo had never said those words, not once. "Satoru, I-" His tongue dove into your cunt, and you almost toppled forwards, but somehow in seconds, he was carrying you. Holding you close, you heard the unmistakable clatter of the desk's contents clatter to the floor as he pressed you down upon the cold surface.

His large arms locked your torso down, and he swiftly resumed tongue fucking your cunt, delving his fingers in and out. His heart was pounding with his confession and from your lack of reply. Though he knew he was fucking you so precisely and so perfectly that it was indeed impossible for you to respond.

Until you burst once more, hands tugging his hair, bucking your pussy into his face, greedy for not just more, but for him. For the actions to do more than the words you could barely manage, so overstimulated and so sensitive that you felt yourself heating up. But then, as your pleasure erupted, feeling your hot arousal coat your thighs, a garbled "I love you" ripped from your chest.

Satoru froze for several seconds, and then it was as if someone found the remote and clicked play as he somehow tugged off his blazer and pants all at once. Ripping his boxers down just enough to grab the base of his cock.

Peering down at you, hungry and lovesick. "Say it again." You giggled and tugged him down for a messy kiss, working off his shirt.

"I love you, Satoru, I love you. I've never been afraid to say it." Your body was still shaking from your blinding orgasm, and he loved every second of it. He loved that he was about to ruin you even more.

His cheek brushed yours as he folded your body, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, "I love you," he whispered hotly into your ear, "I want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

“I already do.”

“Yeah?” You moaned in tandem as he bucked his hips repeatedly, more of his cock easing in each time. Teasing you over and over, even though you were ready to take him, and he knew it. "Can you take me, baby?"

"Yes!" You whined, breath hitching as he tapped his cock against your cunt before he slammed in and filled you to the brim all at once. You both groaned, the sounds fading into seconds of soft relieved laughter. "Oh fuck, Toru, so good."

He moaned, voice shaky in your ear, "That's it, baby, you're so good. Take my cock. It's all yours. Take every single inch."

"Fuck Toru, you're so deep, too deep!"

"No, baby, feels good, doesn't it?"

Before you knew it, he picked you up and slammed you against the glass overlooking the city. If you weren't on the top floor, you'd absolutely refuse. But Gojo always did like fucking you in front of Tokyo at night.

"You can take it, baby, you can fucking take it, yeah? Cause you're made for me, so made for me," he panted.

"I can take it."

"I know you can." He sucked and kissed on your neck, no doubt leaving his mark on you, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took every slam of his hips. His stamina had always been otherworldly, never tiring, even as he fucked you standing up, hands sinking into the undersides of your thighs.

"Leave him," he moaned, not in the slightest asking.

Luckily you didn't mind, as you tugged him closer and parted your lips, "I will, I promise."

"Because you're mine, baby." His teeth were clenched, and he was groaning into your ear. Usually, Gojo could pace himself, but it had been so long, and you felt so good clinging to him like this, it was so close and so intimate. “I love you.”

So close, and so…

He blinked at the revelation that hit him like a freight train, he wasn’t going to run any longer. He liked the intimacy, he wanted to tell you all the stupid things you wanted to know now, he wanted to be close, he wanted you. He wanted to be everything you needed and wanted.

"Are you gonna come?" Your voice was so sweet it gave him an instant sugar rush, "Come in me, baby, fill me, Satoru. Need your cum," you whimpered. “Want it?”

"Yeah? You fucking do, princess? Haah-" He pulled out and shoved your front against the glass. You moaned at the switch, and as he spread you apart before thrusting back in, his large hands engulfing each cheek.

He lost it as you pushed your hips back on him, moaning and babbling, "Then let's have the entirety of Tokyo be a witness as I give my sweet girl what she fucking wants, huh?"

"Fuck, Satoru, feels too good! I'm close too!" you moaned, both of your bodies meeting in desperate sticky clashes of hips.

He whimpered, “We're gonna come together?"

You were gonna send him over the edge tonight.

"I’m so glad you came. Take me, take it, baby. Oh fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, making you take every single rope of his arousal. Lewd sounds tore from your throats at the sensation of him filling you deeply. After seconds of panting and melting into each other's arms, he still made no immediate moves to leave you.

He thrusted slowly to drive it deeper, "I'm not on birth control anymore," you squeaked. "But I'll take th-“

"Good. We're getting the family started just on time."

You giggled tiredly, "You're on board that fast?"

He squeezed you as he laughed himself, arms locked tight around your waist, "Do you wanna see the engagement ring in my desk or?"

"Satoru!"

He twirled you around to face him, "I was gonna fly you somewhere and propose, but I suppose the cats out of the bag." He pouted and got on one knee, kissing your knuckles, "You'll marry me, won't ya? Think of this as a practice proposal, though!"

You sighed, "God, you're a fucking idiot."

"Heh, heh." He opened his desk drawer and produced a small black box.

“I wasn’t joking, actually,” he popped it open with a proud smile, "Shoko kind of helped me pick it, said it was-"

It was beautiful, everything you’d always envisioned but had never described to him or anybody else.

A slow tear slid down your cheek, another racing beside it seconds later, “Aww! Are you that happy to marry me, sweetheart?"

"Go away! But…yes."

He put the ring on the desk and cupped your cheeks, "Yes, you're happy, or yes, you'll marry me?" he asked tentatively.

"Both!"

"Yay!”

You were half-expecting people to jump out with confetti because Gojo was just that ridiculous sometimes, but instead, you heard shrill knocking and then Nanami's voice, absolutely exasperated. "Gojo! You knew I was working overtime today."

He shrugged, grinning at you recoiling into his chest and half-expecting Nanami to barrel in, "Probably the most action you'll get all year!"

He stroked your cheek, full of adoration.

But I got her back.

He always did like grand gestures.

tagging: @afortoru @luvjiro @sixpennydame @4sat0ruu @fangirlings-world @romantichomicide95 @nkogneatho @p00pdev1l @utahimeow @hayakawasb1tch @yocoochbussin <3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #mdni banner: @fic-dumpster <3 #still getting used to writing my baby <3

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