#Fill in the blanks however you'd like

[little-bumblebeeee]

Eddie isn't the type to ask what someone is listening to. If they have earbuds in, he'll just pluck one out and put it into his own ear to see.

He stopped that after he took Steve's headphones, thinking it was some pop or Taylor Swift or even music that Eddie would be into.

Turns out Steve does not listen to that stuff

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl. [Part I]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: After Laswell pitches you a favor to join 141, you're left with no choice but to accept. The only problem arises when you and the Captain start to butt heads, but if the two of you hate each other as much as you say, then why is the rest of the team calling you his girl?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, tension, military romance, forbidden love, smut, fighting, secret feelings, slow burn.

Word count? You know the drill, it’s long.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

‘Captain John Price.’ You skimmed the document again, his name catching your eye for the third or fourth time. The black ink seemed to bleed together against the crisp paper of your enrollment documents into Special Forces Task Force 141. It was a promotion, and an honor at that, special forces to begin with were selective.

But 141 was almost unheard of, a combination of British special forces and American special forces. They were one of the best, and you were about to become a part of it. You read the documents again.

‘All personnel will be working under John Price and answering to Kate Laswell, respectively-’ Your eyes trailed further along the mess of columned words, making sense of the legality aspects of transferring to a new team. You hadn't expected to be transferred over, not until Kate had contacted you with an offer. You could tell she was put under pressure by the way her voice strained against the receiver…

“Look, I need you here. Ever since Shepard went rogue, we've been a bit tight over here. John has stepped in as commanding officer; technically, we already have a sharpshooter on 141. But we could use a hand, just until we sort out our bearings. Then, if you'd like, I can transfer you back to your current team…”

You'd raised an eyebrow, “Laswell, you're acting like I'm the only one who can fill these shoes. Why don't you hire a private contractor from KorTac? I'm sure they have more experience anyway.” You heard her blow out air from her nose, amused. “[Name], I don't think I have to tell you how much these guys hate private contractors. We need someone who can work as a collective team, you know… integrate themselves for the time being.”

You pursed your lips together, weighing out the pros and cons. However, Laswell was one of the best people you had ever met, a long-time friend since the baby days of your recruitment. She was a woman of her word, and she had your back. And if she said this team needed someone, she was being serious. You sighed, leaning back, “Okay, send me the details, Laswell. I'll think about it.”

…You read the contract one last time; it was simple enough. You would be transferred to 141 at the end of the month; it was a year-long contract. Which, in a way, made you a private contractor, too. The rest of 141 was under the impression that you were there to stay, everyone except the Captain and, of course, Laswell, not that she was on 141. If they decided they didn't need you before the contract ended, you could pick to stay for the remainder of the year or transfer back to your original task force.

A sigh left your mouth; you picked up your pen and flipped to the last page. Etching your signature into the blank line. You had till the end of the month; as of that moment, you were officially a member of 141.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Well, you had to give Laswell credit where credit was due. It had been a few weeks since your arrival and you fit in quite smoothly into 141; you believe she called it “integrating.” To nobody's surprise, the team was almost entirely men, aside from Ferrah, who was stationed elsewhere. It hadn't been long since your arrival until you were bound to run into someone; Jhonny was the first…

It was later in the day and you were wandering about; transferring to a new location was something you never got used to, so you tried to get a head start on mapping out the place. Everything was similar to your last base, but you still felt a bit alien. A small room tucked off to the side caught your eye, and you followed in that direction. It was a small break room, a kitchen, and a fridge tucked away in the side; there were a few cupboards and a single run-down couch.

You mosied over to the kitchen, opening cupboards and looking inside drawers. You found the usual silverware, mugs, napkins, junk, and tea bags. You stopped; tea actually sounded pretty good. Sitting on the counter was one of those electric tea kettles; you reached for it.

Waiting until the water was boiling, you grabbed the first mug you saw in the cupboard. As you dipped one of the tea bags into the scalding liquid, the door handle jostled across the room. You heard him before you saw him; his voice was deep, a bit raspy, with a thick Scottish accent. Walking through the door came a man dressed in sweatpants and a military-issued shirt. His head was shaved aside from a cropped mohawk of brown hair. His face was pulled into a subtle frown with his eyebrows furrowed. A phone pressed against his head by his shoulder.

You locked eyes with him, the pale spheres of his eyes boring into yours. You could tell he was studying you, maybe trying to deduce if he had seen you before or if you were a stranger. Suddenly, you heard muffled talking coming from the receiver of his phone. You looked down at your tea, not wanting to be considered rude for staring.

The man's voice came again, but it was almost unreadable. It was like a different language, probably Scottish, and then it stopped. When you looked back up, he was standing a few feet away from you, reaching into one of the cupboards.

“Sisters.”

You blinked; it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you. “I-What?” You asked, caught off guard by his comment. He looked back at you, holding up his phone. “S’who I was talking to.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you nodded slowly; it was an odd way of making conversation. “Oh, okay…You uh- don't look too happy about it, family troubles?” You asked, his lips cracked into a soft smile, and he shook his head. “Nah, she's just a bit dafty. She's auld, so she feels the need to boss me around from time to time.”

You nodded along, trying to use context clues to understand some of his choice words. You watched him fill his mug with some water you had just boiled. “Ah, I see. I'm not sure I can relate; I'm the oldest sibling, so maybe I do all the bossing around.” He nodded, one of his thick eyebrows rasing, “How many siblings?”

You smiled, “Just two, a brother and sister.” The man hummed, looking down at his tea. “Gotcha…” A silence enveloped the room, and after another agonizing moment, he spoke up again. “You a new hire around here? Can't say I would forget a face like yours, lass.” You nodded, glad that the silence had been put to rest, a smile growing on your face at his comment. “Yeah, new transfer to 141.” Suddenly, his eyes grew more comprehensive, “You're the newbie?” He said, astonished.

You chuckled softly, “I wouldn't say newbie; I'm just a transfer from another unit.” His face cracked into a grin, “No kidding, apologies, didn't mean to come off as rude.” He held his hand out to you, “Johnny McTavish, team calls me Soap.”

Your eyebrows raised, “You're a part of 141?” His smile didn't fade as he nodded, “Aye, sharpshooter and sniper.” You felt a grin creeping up on your face; this Soap guy was friendly. Way friendlier than you thought the people on 141 would be. “I’m [Name]. I'm also a sharpshooter, but I also work with mechanics and firearms. Soap is…uh pretty interesting call sign, any meaning behind it?” You saw something in his eye; maybe it was pride, or perhaps something more sinister, “Well, when you clean out a room as fast as I do, people notice. You ain't got a callsign, Bonnie?”

You shook your head, “No, I guess my name has always just done the job.” Soap pat you on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” You and Soap just talked for the next few minutes; it was nice. The conversation ebbed and flowed without problem; he nodded to the door after your tea was nearly empty. “Aye, Bonnie, why don’t I take you to meet the rest of the team? Give you a head start on the meet and greet.”

You smiled, “Yeah, why not?”

…The more time you spent with the team, the easier it got; it helped that they made good conversation. Jhonny was…well, Johnny, good sense of humor but never knew when to quit. Ghost was quieter; he didn't trust you immediately, but you'd managed to pull a few chuckles from him and the occasional polite conversation.

Kyle Garrick, or ‘Gaz,’ was an all-around good guy, funny, polite, and incredibly talented. You could never get over the time that you had gotten drunk off your ass, and Ghost told you a story of when Gaz fell out from a helicopter and was shooting at people while he was swinging from the airborne vehicle.

And then there was Price. Captain John Price, you'd met Price a day after Soap introduced you to the rest of the boys. To say the atmosphere was tense between you would be an understatement. From the minute he laid his eyes on you, they went stiff. His whole demeanor around you reminded you of a rock; it was like he didn't even want you on the team. His voice went curt, and whenever you spoke, his eyes bore holes into your head like he wanted to shoot lasers into your brain by just staring.

You'd talk about it to the rest of the team, but they shrugged it off. “Maybe he ain't used to you yet; it takes a while for the lad to trust anyone. He usually puts on the tough guy act for new recruits.” Ghost had said; Jhonny snorted at that. “Tough guy act? Dinnae, nothing bout that; when I first joined, the man made me want to pull out my hair. Think that's more than a tough guy act L.T.”

Usually, this wouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. But for some odd reason, he got under your skin like nobody else could. And believe, you were no stranger to difficult co-workers and bosses. Even worse, your first interaction with him was incredibly awkward, and you couldn't have left a good impression even if you had tried. It was almost etched into your mind like a stone tablet…

It was your last day to set up, get used to the team and your surroundings before you started working. The three days you had to relax were mostly spent either in the base gym, or eating in the cafeteria. What could you say, you were a creature of habit.

Until this point, you had met almost the entire team besides the captain. Technically, you weren’t required to meet him until you started working, but you'd already met everyone else. So, you figured it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. You pried the information about Price’s whereabouts from Gaz: “I haven't seen him up and about today; usually, he's around. It probably means he's hauled up in his piss-poor office. The guy hates it there but usually locks himself up there when he's in a bad mood or has paperwork.”

Despite his warning, you went ahead and searched for Price’s office. That was mistake number one. After a minute or two of searching, you came across a door with the engraving “Price” carved into the wood in neat lettering. You reached for the door and tried to turn the handle, but nothing. It was locked; you frowned and tried again. But to nobody's surprise, the door remained shut.

So, you resorted to the next best thing. You knocked a few times but were met with radio silence. Maybe he wasn't in there, you chewed on your lip, thinking. There was a small window in the door, but it was covered by blinds. You squinted, pressing your hands to the wood and moving your face inches from the glass; you tried to peer inside despite the closed blinds. That was mistake number two.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped. The voice came from behind you. It was deep with a smooth British accent; you whirled around to face the person. Your eyes met what was possibly, in your opinion, sex on two legs. The man was tall and built like a tank, judging from how his biceps and chest filled out his cotton shirt. His face was stern, with short-cropped brown hair and a muttonchop beard. His eyes a deep shade of blue, you swallowed.

Damn.

You didn't believe you had a type, but this guy probably would've checked off all the boxes if you did. You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment; when he raised his eyebrow, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I’m-uh looking for Captain Price. I thought I'd check his office, but I don't think he's there.” You cringed; your voice was rushed, a pitch higher, too.

The man crossed his arms; god, he could probably pop your head like a balloon with those things alone. “Well, you found him.” He said plainly. You stared at him briefly; of course, he was the captain. Why else would he be here? You wanted to punch yourself in the gut. “Oh,” you breathed, “great then. I wanted to introduce myself; I'm the new transfer.” You tried to muster up a confident smile, which most likely had the opposite effect, given he was looking at you like you'd grown a second head.

“[Name], I know. I read your file.” He deadpanned. His voice caught you a little off guard; he wasn't irritated per se, but he didn't seem happy about this introduction. You cleared your throat, “Great then, I'm sure Laswell told you I was coming?” You were grasping at strings here, trying to prolong the conversation.

“Yes. I'm well aware you are here. Laswell has a way of inserting help into my team.” You paused; well, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. Your smile faltered, and you looked around the room like this was some prank. “She said you guys needed someone…?”

Price nodded, his demeanor unsettlingly calm, “That’s her opinion. Now, I respect Laswell; she knows what she's doing. That doesn't mean I always agree with her; 141 was just fine, this is just a precaution on her part.”

You felt your eye twitch a little; you transferred from your other unit, the unit you were extremely close to, mind you… for this? You joined out of the kindness of your heart, only for this jackass to say you were ‘just a precaution.’ “Well, I hope you won't hold a grudge.” You said a bit curtly. Price pursed his lips together in a tight line.

“Wouldn't dream of it; a year is an awful long time to hold a grudge.” He said, the malice and ego coming off his tongue so strong you could almost taste it. What was this guy's problem with you? You did the nice thing and took time out of your day to introduce yourself to him. And he was treating you like you'd personally wronged him. “Good, then I won't either.” You breathed, frustrated. Price looked down at you, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Well, that's good to hear; now, are you going to let me into my own office or keep standing there like a human blockade?”

This guy.

Your palms squeezed into fists, shooting him a nasty glare. You forgot you were standing right in front of the door, the embarrassment making the tips of your ears heat up. You pushed yourself to walk away, “It was nice meeting you, Captain.” You spit, venom in your tone, walking away like a wounded animal.

Suddenly, you somehow forgot about how hot he was; at that moment, you wanted to smash his gorgeous face into a wall. You liked your new Captain a lot more when he didn't speak. But the reality set in: John Price hated you for some unknown reason, and you were starting to hate him back.

…You had calmed down since that first encounter. Maybe it was a one-off thing; after all, you did go when Gaz warned you that he may already be in a bad mood. Maybe you had jumped the gun? and Price didn't hate you.

News flash: He hated you, and it was not a one-off encounter.

You were now a month into your new job, and if it weren't for Price, you would've actually been enjoying your time with 141. Everyone else was great; they were warming up to the idea of having you as a teammate. The training was hard on you, but you expected that, you were improving day to day. But no matter how well you did, you always had Price’s voice in your ear telling you that you could've done better. The man was running circles around you.

Slowly, you started to lose patience with him; when he laid out the bait, you bit. It was getting easier to react instead of keeping calm and passive-aggressively telling him you were grateful for the friendly criticism.

Even the team started to watch every interaction you had with the Captain keenly. They would tease you ruthlessly, saying his name while your back was turned just to laugh at the way your whole body seemed to go as stiff as a board.

“I swear the two of ya seem to bicker like an auld married couple. It's like watching my parents fight.” Soap had said to you once after an agitated conversation you'd had with Price moments before.

Was it your fault for causing some of the arguments between you two? Possibly. But he instigated just as much as you did; it was like a competition of who could get under the other's skin the most. And you couldn't even avoid him; Gaz wasn't kidding when he said he was out and about when Price wasn't in his office. He was like your shadow.

You were in the cafeteria? Oh, so was Price. You were in the gym? That's funny; Price was just about to do his workout. Training? He was practically glued to you and nitpicking everything you did. You were trying to go for a fucking walk around base past lights out? Price couldn't sleep, and as your captain, it was his obligation to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.

Intrusively, you wondered if he had implanted a tracker into you while you were sleeping. That had to be it; there was no way you just happened to experience so many ‘coincidences’ back to back. 

Eleven more months, you had eleven more months stuck with him. Maybe in that time, you could come up with a detailed plan on how you would murder, hide, and successfully get away with killing your Captain.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was one of those off days where you didn’t have much to do. Like the calm before the storm, 141 had an incoming operation; plans were laid out, and everyone knew what to do. All that was left was playing the waiting game before you loaded into the helicopter and landed in a checkpoint base in Urzikstan.

With nothing to do, you figured it wouldn't hurt to hide away in the break room with some tea and scroll on your phone. You rarely had time to yourself, so you might as well make the best of it. You peeked into the break room and smiled when you found it was empty. You made a beeline to the small kitchen counter; you'd managed to snag some different types of tea for yourself over the few weeks you had been at base. It was the floral and sweet kind that nobody touched, despite Ghost's comment that: “It's not real tea.” You found it incredibly enjoyable.

As you turned on the electric kettle, the doorknob jostled. You looked up, and your eyes met Price. Well, shit. He made eye contact with you. Obviously, the feeling between you two was mutual based on how his lips dropped into a frown when he saw you. You stared at each other for a beat before you turned your head away.

You weren't doing this today; you were too tired to bicker with your captain over something useless. You stared at the counter, waiting for him to leave or speak. But he did neither. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a mug. The silence between you was so loud that the room might've been quieter if you were arguing.

He was close, not enough that you were touching, but enough that his presence almost tickled your skin.

You just continued to watch the counter and your mug. Glancing at the kettle, you almost grimaced; it was barely bubbling. When did boiling water take so long? The tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. But, Price was the first to crack.

“Interesting mug,” he commented, his voice as it always was when he spoke to you. Dry. You debated not responding, but the silence was killing you just as much. “It's my favorite.” You said back, matching his tone. However, your eyes were soft as you looked at the mug before you. It was ceramic, with hand-painted fish drawn onto it. Cod, salmon, tuna, and swordfish, too, their colors vibrant compared to the barren beige of the rest of the cup.

He made a low hum sound, almost like he didn't believe you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you finally turned to look at him. You stopped briefly; his eyes had heavier bags than the last time you'd seen him. He didn't look as stern or unshakeable as usual; rather, he looked more weary, human. You forgot you were going to say something to him, “What?” You said, suspicious.

His eyes broke away from yours, looking down at his hands as they tore away the top of an instant coffee packet. Price emptied its contents into his plain white mug and cleared his throat. “Nothing, s’just that's my mug.” He said; his voice wasn't mad or accusatory. Instead, it was just like he was stating a fact.

You frowned, your eyebrows sinking further down your face. What was he talking about? You'd been using this mug for weeks; in fact, this was the first mug you'd used here, back when you first met Jhonny and the rest of the team. “That's not true; all the mugs in the cupboard are communal.” You pointed out, looking at him like you'd caught him in a bad lie.

He looked back at you, an almost smugness to his gaze. “Look at the bottom of the cup.” He said plainly. Your frown deepened, but you grabbed the mug and turned it over in your hands out of curiosity.

JP. It was painted in small lettering in the middle of the circular bottom. Your face dropped. Oh. JP, standing for John Price. It was his mug. Your face reddened as you realized you had been drinking out of his cup for the past month. Why hadn’t he said anything about it to you before now? He obviously knew, considering he'd seen you drink from it before.

You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a good defense. “But- Jhonny told me all the mugs in the break room were for everyone. Including this one.” You said, pointing at the mug in your hands.

Price raised one eyebrow, “And you believed him?” He said. The gears in your head started to turn; the guy had a point. Why had you trusted him of all people? You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “fucking christ Soap.” You muttered, primarily to yourself.

The steaming whistle of the kettle broke your train of thought, and your head snapped in its direction. You looked from the boiling kettle to the mug in your hand, a sigh exiting your chest. You held out the mug to him, “Here. It's yours, I'll get another one.”

Price looked surprised for a beat before his face went neutral again. He shook his head, pushing the mug back towards you. “No need; I've already got this one.” He grunted, nodding to the plain white mug sitting on his side of the counter. Before you could protest, he grabbed the kettle, pouring the hot water into his mug. Your nose scrunched as the aroma of instant coffee hit you.

He raised an eyebrow at your visceral reaction, “Not a fan of coffee now, are we?”

You cleared your throat, looking away from the blackening devil concoction. “I like coffee-” You clarified, “-just not that instant crap; it tastes like sewer water.” The curve of his lip twitched into a half-amused smile. Bringing the mug to his lips and taking a hearty sip, “noted.” Price hummed. You reached out to grab the kettle, but he handed it over to you before you could.

You raised your eyebrow; this was the closest thing you'd ever had to a friendly conversation with your Captain. You skeptically took it, breathing a ‘thanks’ to him. A comfortable silence fell on the both of you; Price could drink his coffee while you waited for your tea to brew.

Your eyes seemed to pull towards his direction as you waited, observing the curve of his lips, his nose that was just a bit crooked, and the coarse hair of his beard that thinned into stubble the further down his neck it went. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed his drink and how his large hand seemed to make the mug seem small. He somehow pulled off looking like he hadn't slept in weeks, which ticked you off somewhat.

He shot you a sideways glance, “You're staring.” Price said flatly; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I was…zoning out. And for the record, I was looking at the-uh wall behind you.” You cringed at yourself; the long pauses and uhs weren't adding to your credibility.

Price gave you a funny look, turning to look at the refrigerator behind him, which was most definitely not a wall. He turned back to you, “The wall you said?”

Well, shit, thanks, captain obvious. You frowned, giving up, “It doesn't matter-” you huffed, “Point is, I was zoned out.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him or at least force him to drop the subject; Price shrugged and took another sip from his mug. “Let's hope you don't make a habit out of it. Wouldn't want to add that to the other list of…qualities you have.” Here we go again. You raised an eyebrow, the edge in his tone all too familiar. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Which are?”

Price cleared his throat, gesturing his mug to you and your tea. “Theavory, for one.” Well, he got you there. You blew out air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you'd let him pull from you.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically.

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Yeah, well, just trying to lighten the mood between us.”

There was a pause.

The way he said ‘between us’ didn't sit right with you; what he said had undertones of bitterness, almost similar to the layers of an onion. Now, was it possible that you were reading too much into this? Yes. Was it also a tone-deaf thing to say, considering he was the primary reason you two didn't like each other in the first place? Also yes.

Don't bite the bait; don't bite the bait, “The mood you created?” You bit the bait.

He glanced at you, one of his eyebrows arching. For a second, it was silent, like he was mulling over whether it was worth it to engage. Price sighed, setting his drink down. “Look… [Name], if this is about that time when we first met, I was in a bad mood. I wasn't trying to be harsh; I'd just had a shit day. Nothing personal on you.” He craned his neck to the side, sliding a hand over his nape.

You crossed your arms. “You could've apologized,” you pointed out. Price paused, staring at you quizzically, “Why would I need to apologize?”

You almost gaped at him; his ego seemed to know no bounds. If it wasn't so irritating, it might have been comical, “You called my job a ‘precaution,’ and me, a ‘human blockade-’” You deadpanned, “-I don't like when someone downplays my whole career.” Price just stared at you blankly, his face morphing into more confusion.

“But you are a precaution.” He said, “That's the whole reason why Laswell put you here.” It was like he was explaining something to a child.

You huffed, “Captain. With all due respect, I'm a part of this team whether we like it or not. I don't want to be treated like an outsider- everyone else here seems to treat me like I belong here so why don't you? What's not to trust?” You questioned, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips pressed into a not-so-subtle frown.

“You don't belong here, though,” Price said frostily. “You're here for a year [Name], no more, no less. You belong to a different task force, so excuse me if I treat you as such.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment. A familiar feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you like the electric tea kettle. Your hands squeezed the ceramic of your mug, “Just because I'm not here to stay doesn't mean I'm any less committed to my job. I work my ass off every day to show you that I belong here. I just don’t understand why you’re too stubborn to even see that.” You huffed.

Price pursed his lips into a tight line, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer. “I don't have time to micro-manage everything you do. That's not stubborn; it's having other responsibilities besides making you feel included.”

Well, if he hadn't made you feel like a toddler before, he definitely was now. “Well, that's funny because you seem to do a perfectly good job at micromanaging everything I do despite your ‘lack of free time.’ And- I’m not asking you to make me feel included; I’m not an infant. I’m asking you to treat me with the same respect you treat everyone else with.” You hissed.

It didn’t surprise you how quickly the polite interaction with him turned into another bitter argument. When it came to Price, emotions ran high. Higher than you would like to admit.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would respect you more.” He bit back, and you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I’m not though- I’m clearly telling you the problem between us. But since you have this…this grudge against me you won’t even listen to me.” You huffed.

Price shot you a look that said, ' I'm winning this argument, and there is nothing you can say to stop that.’ 

Internally, you wondered if getting dishonorably discharged was worth throwing hot tea into your captain's stupid face. Instead, you decided to look away, setting your mug on the counter with a sharp ‘clank.’ “Fine then, don't listen to me. That works, too.” You breathed through your teeth.

Price downed the rest of his coffee, throwing his head back and then setting his mug upside down in the small sink. He turned his whole body to you, crossing his arms. His blue eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pinched together in scrutiny. “You want me to listen? Go ahead. Say what you want; I'm all ears.”

Your voice died in your throat. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you didn't put up much of a fight against him, especially not with his ‘I'm the Captain, and you are one word away from cleaning toilets’ voice.

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and the silence between you hung dangerously quiet for another moment. “Nothing, Captain.” You said through your teeth.

Price nodded, his eyes drilling holes into you, “That's what I thought. Now, it better stay that way for the duration of the next week or so help me; I will take away every privilege you have.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out. Leaving you, a seething statue.

You looked down at his mug, still held tightly in your hand. You glared at the painted fish, “Fuck you.” You whispered to the watercolor salmon. Your frown deepened, substantially disappointed that whispering ‘fuck you’ to your Captain's mug didn't carry the same satisfaction you'd feel if you said it straight to his face.

Arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall. Scratch that. Arguing with Price was worse than arguing a brick wall, a brick wall wouldn't intimidate you and then storm off.

You didn't feel like finishing your tea anymore. You grit your teeth together, dumping the liquid into the sink and watching as it slides down the drain. You had a few days before the mission, and you were going to make sure that you didn't fuck anything up. Lest you suffer the wrath of Price and your own self-doubt.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Shit!”

Your head snapped toward the voice, even with the night vision gear you had everything was difficult to identify. It was safe to say you weren't a fan.

It had been 72 hours since you landed in Urzikstan, and 4 hours since you left the checkpoint base. If you had to guess, it was most likely around 0300 standard military time. Which meant you and the rest of 141 only had another two hours before you had to evacuate and hop on the trucks back to the checkpoint.

Your orders were simple enough, break into the compound and locate the underground terror group that was allegedly creating a bio-warfare laboratory. While it wasn't concreated information British and American SAS couldn't risk not sending a team to see if the tip was accurate. Being the genuine pigs of the situation didn't sit right with you but you weren't employed for your opinion on what the government chose to do and not do.

Still, being sent on a wild goose chase or worse into a trap made you more on edge. Everyone had paired up in case this was a setup and because the universe could never let you win you were grouped with Price. Which brought you back to the present moment.

“Price whats going on? talk to me.” You said in response to his curse. Trying to keep your voice as low as you could while still being audible. You weren't an expert but typically someone hissing ‘shit!’ wasn't a good sign.

In the split second before he could respond you heard the click. Along with the sound of Price’s footsteps trying to get out of the way, then came the sharp boom of a gun being fired. Only after the sound had left the barrel of the gun did you see it. The building wasn't finished, half of the construction was halted, leaving rooms unfinished, walk-offs, and random piles of rubble. Hidden behind a cement pillar a floor above, looking down at you was a person. More importantly a person behind a giant ass gun.

Shit!

You immediately threw yourself out of the way, ducking yourself behind a large amount of rubble. Your eyes scanned for Price in the darkness, frantically making sense of the objects around you. Another fire. Followed by another one. You didn't have time to look for Price. You turned your body, shielded by the debris, and pointed your gun up. It didn't take long before you locked onto the figure, you drew your breath in and pulled the trigger. The firing stopped.

You peered up over the rubble just in time to see the limp body flop over the drop-off and slam into the concrete. You were met with a deafening silence, “Price you copy?”

After a moment you heard someone move, “Yeah-” Your shoulders dropped, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped. You never thought hearing that deep British voice would ever make you this relieved. “Yeah, I copy.” He breathed. You stood, carefully making your way over to the corpse of your attacker. Looking down at the body, their face hidden by a cloth and glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling.

You grimaced, it was like looking at a dead fish. You looked up, nobody else was above. The only thing remaining was the unaccompanied sniper.

“This guy was alone.” You said, eyebrows furrowing. “And his aim was shit.” You deadpanned. Your head turned, expecting to meet Price. But were only greeted by an empty space, “Price?” You asked looking around.

“Over here.” He gruffed, you turned around. Price was standing next to a wall, his palm flat against its surface. It was like he was leaning against it, your eyes narrowed. His left leg was slightly raised off the ground, something wasn't right.

You jogged over to him, “What's the matter?” you asked, because of the night vision goggles coupled with the amount of gear he was wearing you couldn't see his face well. However, you didn't miss the way his jaw flexed. Before he could respond you pinpointed the issue. The leg that was raised had a small bullet-sized hole in his boot.

“Shit.” You breathed.

This really wasn't what you needed. You and Price had to be out of the compound in the next hour and a half, being shot in the foot was a major problem. At least it wasn't an organ, you thought. “Can you still walk?” You asked.

Price put his foot on the ground, putting his weight on it. You cringed as he let out a quiet hiss, “Yeah just fuckin’ hurts like hell.” He took a step, he was limping but he could walk. Which was a small win for both of you. Just as you opened your mouth someone spoke in your ear piece.

“[Name], Price, you copy? We heard shots.” The voice was grave, deep, with a thick British accent. Ghost.

Price answered, “We’re fine. Bastard with a sniper nicked my foot. Did any of you find the lab yet?” He said through clenched teeth, despite your dislike of your captain you felt a little guilty. If you'd seen the shooter before Price would probably be fine.

“We just found it, nobody’s here. S’a fuckin’ ghost town… no pun intended.” Ghost’s staticky voice rang in your ear, if you were in a better situation you might have laughed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned.

“That makes no sense.” You chimed in, “If this guy was here there should be more people. It doesn't make sense for only one person to be set up here.” You looked at Price. His head was already turned to look at you. It was a beat before anyone spoke again.

“Price.” A raspy Scottish accent this time. Soap. “The labs empty, no inventory at all. Everything is sterile.” You felt your throat run dry, the silence on the radio spoke louder than anything you or anyone else could say. Either they evacuated before the team had gotten there or the whole building was a ruse.

You looked back at the corpse lying a few feet away from you and Price. “They knew we were coming.” You breathed. The weight of your words seemed to carry for miles, but the implications might have been worse. You looked at Price, the same thoughts you had probably already running through his head. “We need to fucking leave, right now.”

Price gave a small nod, “Everyone get out. Gaz, call for emergency evac now. Leave the same way we came do not under any circumstances go further into this building.” Price demanded. Which was followed by a series of ‘copies.’ You started for the way you entered, just as you reached the empty doorframe you heard a grunt behind you. You looked back, fuck. You forgot Price was hurt, fuck, fuck, fuck. He could walk but there was no way he could run with his foot.

You doubled back, and as you ran to him Price raised his hands. Almost in protest, “I can keep up, I'm not immobile.” He exhaled, and you shot him an unimpressed look. The situation was bad enough, you weren't going to deal with this. You couldn't waste time and walking on a bad foot would only worsen it for Price in the long run.

You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, one arm grabbed the back of his vest, holding his side up so his injured foot didn't hit the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable but it worked.

Price opened his mouth but you spoke before he could get a word in. “You can't keep up and you know it. Whatever problems we have don't matter right now, we've got to get out of here. God knows what the people who were here before us did to this place. But we don't have time to think about that-” Your eyes met his, the red hue of the night vision goggles making his navy eyes seem black. “-I’d much rather keep you alive but I would gladly die with you than have it be my fault that you die. So shut the fuck up and move.”

That seemed to do the trick because Price did in fact, shut the fuck up. You quickly exited with Price. It wasn't as fast as you would've liked to leave but it was the best you could do with a six-foot tank of a man leaning against you.

A few minutes later you and Price successfully made it out. The rest of the team was already waiting a ways away from the building, you let out a relieved sigh. Just being out of the compound seemed to lift a weight off your chest and calm your racing heart. Price seemed to feel the same way judging by his taunt muscles relaxing slightly.

You made your way over to the team, Ghost was the first to notice you. He did a slight double-take as he saw Price, “Thought you said the bloke nicked you?” He commented, you gently released Price letting him lean against the outside wall of an abandoned house.

Price grunted, “Yeah well he nicked me good.” He said back, Ghost nodded. Soap and Gaz peered at the bloody hole in his boot, “That’s gonna be a pain to heal I’ll tell you that.” Soap commented, and Gaz nodded along. “No kidding.”

Price’s frown deepened, and he let out a breath. “Gaz how long till evac trucks pick us up?” Gaz looked out at the open area then looked back, “I’d say twenty minutes give or take.” That answer seemed to give Price a little peace.

A few minutes had gone by, and Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were all talking with you while Price leaned against the wall silently. You glanced at your Captain, gingerly making your way over you leaned against the wall a few inches away from him. You didn't know what to say if you should say anything for that matter. Making conversation with Price wasn't your strong suit, but you felt bad.

“So…you okay?” You asked dumbly, Price gave you a look that made you want to go right back to the others. He was silent for a beat before speaking. “I got shot in the foot [Name], you tell me.” He deadpanned.

You swallowed, nodding. Asshole. No matter, you decided to take it in stride, “Right.” You breathed, “I just… wanted to check.” On second thought maybe you really should leave, it was like you were communicating with an alien. And after your last argument with Price, you walked on eggshells whenever you were around him.

The stretch of silence between the two of you lasted longer than you would've liked. But after a moment Price cleared his throat and nodded, “Thank you.” He said.

You did a bit of a double-take, thank you? Price never thanked you. It was like he was allergic to congratulating or acknowledging you in any form that wasn't to reprimand you. You must've looked as confused as you felt by the way he glanced at you and then went on. “For helping me out of there, you were prepared for the worst back there and you still had my back. I appreciate that-”

“-you uh, you did good.” He clarified.

Your mouth was probably hanging open at this point, ‘you did good.’ The words hung in the air around you, filling your ears with cotton. Price your captain, Price your mortal enemy had praised you. He gave you a sideways glance, “Don't look so shocked [Name], you're still on thin ice.”

Ah, there it was, your shoulders slumped. It was better than nothing though, “Right, uhm thank you.” You said a bit awkwardly, Price gave you a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was acknowledgment.

After some time passed by you and the rest of 141 loaded into the trucks, starting the long drive to the checkpoint base. You tried to lean your head back and get just a little bit of rest, but after thirty minutes of failing to do so, you gave up. There was just too much in your head, too many unanswered questions. You thought about the man you'd killed, why was he there? What was the use of evacuating a building if you just left a single sniper with terrible aim lying in wait for someone to come looking around?

Did that mean they didn't know 141 specifically was coming? The question that worried you the most was the fact that if they did plan for you to raid the lab, who on the inside was feeding these people your team's operations? You shuddered. It was bad enough that commanding officer Shepard went rogue a few months prior. The SAS really didn't need another mole. Especially considering the amount of enemies the American and British military had made.

Your shoulders slumped, it didn’t really matter, what mattered was that everyone made it out. You didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if the previous occupants had left explosives inside the building. It was better to just be thankful that nothing happened.

Your first operation with 141 had been a bust, but considering the circumstances you thought it went as well as it could’ve. Not counting Price’s foot.

Subconsciously your eyes drifted over to Price, his boot had been taken off and his foot was wrapped in white garb. Just until someone could look at it properly, everyone had taken their night visions and helmets off to get some shut-eye. Your gaze drifted up until they met his face, navy eyes met yours. You froze, you hadn't realized Price was awake. The two of you didn't break eye contact for a minute, almost like a challenge of who would be the first to look away.

“You make a habit of staring at people or is it just me?” He deadpanned. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, he could never let you catch a break, could he?

“I wasn't staring, and you were looking at me too.” You defended, it didn't matter if you were staring, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you confess that. One of his thick eyebrows raised, “I glanced at you. There's a difference, you just happened to look up at the same time.” He said back, calm as ever.

You half rolled your eyes, he could word it however he wanted to, but in the end, it was pretty much the same thing. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” You hummed, matching his nonchalance. Your gaze dropped back down to his bandaged foot, “How’s the foot?” You asked, hoping he wouldn't catch you changing the subject.

Price grunted, his head lulling back onto the seat. You shot a glance at his adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down before averting your eyes. “Feels like I got shot in the foot, so…not great. It's better than an organ so I won't complain that much.” He breathed.

You nodded, “You ever been shot before?” you asked, what could you say? You were curious. He nodded, clearing his throat he cast his head down to look at his chest. One of his hands pulled up his bullet vest and shirt revealing the beginnings of his abdomen, right above his hip bone there was a small scar. “Two years ago, caught me while I was down. Took forever to heal, fuckin’ hurt like hell too.”

You zeroed in on the exposed skin, it was all muscle, no surprises there. The man was built like a 4x6 brick, his skin was shiny with sweat, and from what you could see his bullet scar wasn't the only one that littered his skin. Just below the dipped fabric of his shirt was the start of a happy trail. You swallowed.

What the fuck was wrong with you? A few days ago you were plotting how you could murder him and now you're ogling a sliver of his stomach like a horny teen girl.

You absolutely did not find a single part of your boss attractive. Forget your first interaction with him when you were practically gaping over him like a fish. That didn't count. This was Price you were talking about. Sure, he was conventionally attractive with just the right amount of ruggish charm to make him mysterious. And yeah, he was built like a tank, so what? And you couldn't forget about his stupid fucking British accent, who the hell was into British accents anyways? (You were. Embarrassingly so.)

Price looked up at you, the silence making you raise an eyebrow. “See something you like aye?” He said, amusement dripping from his voice. Your eyes immediately snapped back to his face, embarrassment churning away at your insides.

“You wish,” You said back. So maybe you found some parts of your Captain hot, that didn't matter. In the end, it was still Price. And the flames of hatred don't die out just because one's enemy is a little (a lot) attractive.

Price breathed out what sounded like a laugh, he dropped the shirt. “Keep telling yourself that [Name].” Your fists squeezed together as he threw your words back at you.

You glared at him, “You're so full of it you know that?” You breathed, which only seemed to pique his interest further. You were glad the rest of the team was either sleeping or so used to your fighting that at this point they tuned you out. Jumping off a cliff seemed nice in comparison to the ruthless teasing that Soap and Ghost would enact if they found out you'd been caught ogling Price.

“Didn't realize this would strike a nerve, any particular reason why?” He said, you grimaced. You could almost taste the smugness from his tongue like syrup, “It didn't.” You said through your teeth, “Then again, egotistical men are a pain to be around. Especially ones that think everyone around them wants them.” You grumbled.

Your words seemed to have the opposite effect, Price straightened. A small tug at his lip made you want to slap that smirk right off. “I never said you wanted me, but liars always do have a way of telling on themselves don't they?” He grinned.

Something flashed in his eyes, you didn't have time to see what it was. But right now, all your willpower was devoted to not picking up your gun and giving him a matching hole in his right foot. “I think I'd rather shoot myself than be anything but professional with you.” You said frostily.

Price hummed, the smirk never leaving his face and he leaned back. “Glad the feeling is mutual.” He spoke calmly.

Your eye twitched, he was pulling that card now. Reverse physiology or whatever it was, the ‘I don't have to want you but you have to want me.’ Well too bad you didn't care, you couldn't care less. If Price didn't want you that was great-better even.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “Super glad.” You turned your head away so you didn't have to look in his direction. Maybe you should've left him in that building, it was a tempting thought. The rest of the drive back to the checkpoint was spent in silence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The base felt dreary, everyone was still in a funk from the previous night. Everything felt just a bit more surreal, nobody was talking about what happened either. Not that there really was anything to discuss.

The checkpoint base wasn't as nice as your previous base. It wasn't even a full building, there were a few small ones but those were mostly used to store weapons. Everything else was industrial-sized tents, making privacy a luxury. It didn't even have a proper barracks, just a large tent with several stretcher-like beds placed in rows. To be completely honest the entire thing was a pile of shit. But it was a roof over your head so there was that.

You sat at a bench in the ‘commons,’ a poor excuse for food sitting in front of you. Gaz sat next to you while Ghost and Jhonny sat across from you. They all had similar grimaces plastered on their faces as they ate their protein paste.

“If I have to eat this shite for another day I'm going to go into that food storage room and light the thing up. They got us eating like dogs.” Ghost said after draining the last of his rations. You half-heartedly agreed, humming a sound of approval that was accompanied by Gaz’s small chuckle.

Soap grinned, “Don't get yer panties in a twist just yet L.T, heard they're serving dessert paste too. Courtesy of Price’s injury.”

You shivered, it sounded just as bad if not worse. Then a thought popped up, you looked around the common space. “Hey, you guys seen Price? Isn't he eating?” You hadn't seen him for almost the entire day, which was a blessing for you but it did strike you as odd when normally you couldn't get rid of him.

Gaz shrugged, “He was in the medical tent last time I saw him. The guy was getting his foot looked at, he’ll probably show up soon.”

Ghost turned his head to face you, while it was a little hard to tell with his balaclava, one of his eyebrows raised. “Awful concerned about Price aren't you? Thought you hated the man.” Your lips curled into an exasperated frown.

“I'm not. And I do hate him. I was just curious.” You brushed him off, trying to avoid his stony gaze. Soap and Gaz exchanged looks that made your eyebrows furrow.

Gaz looked at you, “What about the other day when you helped him out of the building?” Soap was next to chime in, “Or that you use his mug all the time and he lets you?”

You shot Gaz a glare, “First, he's still my Captain I'm not going to leave him in a building where I think he's going to die.” Then you directed a similar glare at Soap, “Second, I didn't know it was his mug because you tricked me into thinking the mugs were communal.” You said through your teeth.

Ghost smirked, “Sounds like you care.”

Your hands gripped the table with unnecessary force. “I do not.” You defended, the looks exchanged between them made you want to crawl into a hole. Suddenly you weren't as inclined to finish your meal. You stood, grabbing your tray of half-eaten food and trash. “I'm not hungry anymore.” You said dryly.

Soap laughed, faking a disappointed frown. “Come on lass we were just getting started with ya. Where's the fun in leaving before the real jokes start?” You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the bench and walking towards the trash.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” you replied as you dumped the remanence of your ‘lunch’ in the trash. Just as you were exiting the tent Soap's voice called out to you.

“Oh, if you see the old fart, tell him his dessert paste is waiting for him!” That earned an amused tug at the corner of your lips, shaking your head in exasperation as you pushed past the floppy tent entrance.

You didn't even make it a foot outside before your momentum was halted by a larger mass. Your face met something hard, but also somehow soft at the same time. You stumbled back, gaining back your balance from the force of running into something. Or more specifically, someone. You looked up in dismay to see what kind of idiot ran into you.

It was Price, because of fucking course it was.

But it was Price with the addition of a single crutch and a newly wrapped foot. Your eyes slowly crept up to his face, the mortifying reality that you slammed right into his chest setting in. What’s worse was that the previous conversation with the guys was still very fresh in your mind.

‘Sounds like you do care,’ Ghost’s words echoed in your mind, haunting you like a…well a ghost. Ironic.

“Do you mind?” Price's words snapped you out of your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was silent for a moment before your vocal cords decided to actually comply and let you speak.

“You ran into me.” You said lamely, the tips of your ears felt hot. Like lava was slowly being poured onto your head. Price’s eyebrows furrowed, his navy eyes studying you. Even on one crutch, he seemed to tower over you in a way that made you antsy.

“Why are you red?” He asked, the question caught you off guard. Making you falter for a second time, “I-What?”

Price’s eyes narrowed a bit, a finger pointed directly at you. “Your face. It's red,” It wasn't a jab, more like he was observing a simple fact. Suddenly you became hyper-aware of the heat spreading across your face. You touched your cheek, and the pads of your fingers burned at the touch.

Oh my god.

Your face was hot, it was flushed. You were blushing. Blushing. In front of Price.

You swallowed, feeling a bob in your throat. It was like you were in one of those dreams where you showed up to school naked. “I'm allergic-” You blurted out.

A beat of silence ensued, and Price raised a single brow. “Allergic?” He said, to which you responded with a hard nod. Think, think- what was a believable lie? “Yes… to the dessert paste.”

Price didn't look skeptical now, he just looked downright confused. “What the hell is dessert paste?” He questioned, while a good question, you didn't want to stand around to explain it to him while your face looked like the cover of a period ad. You shook your head, steering around him like a robot.

“Ask soap.” You said as you made your escape, “I'm going to the med tent so I don't go into anaphylactic shock.”

That was a lie, you were going to the bathroom to rethink your career and splash cold water on your face. Leaving Price a standing statue, a perplexed look on his face.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A pack of 8 beers was slammed down onto the small table in front of where you were sitting. The bottles lightly clanked together, you looked up. “What’s this?” You asked, Soap stood in front of you with a confident grin.

“This is how we’re going to make it through our last 10 hours in this shit hole.” He proclaimed, his hands on his hips.

It was late, everyone but Price was in the sleeping tent. True to Soap’s words, in 10 hours you and the rest of 141 were finally going to load up into the heli and return to the original base. Thank goodness too, you didn't think you could stomach another meal here. Ghost looked over from his cott, “The hell did you get that from?”

Soap waved him off, smoothing over his poor example of a mohawk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He fished into his pant pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, grabbing one of the bottles he flicked the cap off with a soft pop’ “Since it is our last night, why not celebrate?” He went on.

You eyed the pack suspiciously, if it came from here it was probably shit beer. But it was still something, you shrugged. You reached for one, “I'll take what I can get.” You sighed.

Grabbing a bottle you snatched Soap’s knife to knock off the cap. Throwing your head back as you took a generous swig, it burned down your throat. The pungent flavor making your nose scrunch and your mouth curl. Soap did the same, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Well…It could be worse.” He muttered.

Ghost and Gaz followed suit, walking over to your space and grabbing two bottles. After some time had passed the four of you had settled into a sort of circle, you were two beers in and things were already getting fuzzy. You didn't normally drink, mostly because you were a lightweight. But when you did drink, you got drunk. You were tipping your head back with laughter at every story, the warmth in your stomach making the tent somehow feel cozy.

Soap reached for his third bottle but Gaz swatted his hand away, “Leave some for Price Jhonny.” He scolded, Soap simply rolled his eyes and groaned. “The old man won't care, he only drinks at those shitty pubs. He's a stickler bout not drinkin’ on base, something about ‘not mixing business with pleasure’” He mocked, doing in your opinion, a decent Price impression. You chucked.

“I don't think Price takes ‘pleasure’ in anything, he's such a stick up the ass he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face.” You breathed, and while not the most articulate thing to say, your tongue and thoughts were loose enough that you didn't care.

Ghost’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, “For someone who hates Price, you sure do love to talk about him any chance someone brings him up.” He said smugly, earning snickers from both Soap and Gaz.

“Oh fuck off will you?” You grumbled to Ghost, this whole teasing you about Price thing was getting old fast. “I say one thing and you guys act like I have some schoolgirl crush on him.”

Soap grinned, “You said it lass, not us.” He coughed abruptly when you smacked him in the stomach, making him lean forward to catch his breath. You glanced at Ghost who’s hands were now raised in surrender.

“Come off it [Name], we’re just teasing, you're not doing yourself any favors by acting with him the way you do.” He commented, which only confused you. All you did was argue with him, where was there room for speculation? The look on your face must've told them everything they needed to know.

“What do I do that gives off that impression even remotely?” You said defensively, they all exchanged looks.

Soap spoke up, “It's not just you bonnie, Price acts differently around you too. It just gives off a certain impression. Some people just take it the wrong way.” There was an underlying uncomfortableness to his words that you didn't miss. And who were ‘some people??’

Ghost smacked him upside the head, earning a startled grunt. “Fuckin’ twat, Soap doesn't know what he's saying.” Ghost said facing you. “He's already tipsy, don't take what he's saying to heart.” Soap was holding his head, shooting a glare at the lieutenant.

You shook your head, not ready to let it go. “No, who's some people? And what did you mean when you said ‘taking it the wrong way?’” Your eyes narrowed in on all three of them, waiting for someone to speak first. Gaz looked away, immediately giving him away as the weakest link. “Gaz what's he talking about?” You asked firmly.

He tensed up, glancing at Ghost and then back to you. “It's really nothing, it's just a silly rumor.” Ghost shot him a firm look, “Kyle-” He warned.

A rumor? What the hell was there to talk about? The last time you'd heard of a rumor going around about yourself was in high school, it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Your lips pursed into a tight line, something about how secretive they were being set you off. “What rumor?” You said, after a minute of silence, you slowly got more frustrated. “If it's about me I deserve to know.”

Ghost didn't speak, neither did Gaz, but Soap did. He blew out a sigh, glancing back at Ghost who was maintaining strict eye contact with you. “There is a bit of a widespread rumor back at base that you've been shaggin’ the boss. People started calling you Captain’s Girl.”

The pit of your stomach dropped.

You felt dizzy, looking between the three of them. Waiting for one of them to break, to smile and say ‘got you!’ but it never came. “You're joking right?” You said, laughing nervously, the longer the silence the more nauseous you became.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes hard but his demeanor a bit solemn. “We didn't want you to know for obvious reasons. Thought it would make things worse between the two of ya’ and it was just too far.” You swallowed, this was a joke. This was a joke and they were just teasing. When nobody spoke after the reality set in.

Of course, this would happen to you, you worked your ass off just to be respected in a field dominated by men. You were asked to be a part of 141. But all people saw was a slut who worked her way up the ladder by playing Miss ‘Hard to Get.’

“We tried to stop it as best we could trust us, it's just a little hard to keep quiet when word spreads fast,” Gaz interjected, his eyebrows scrunched in…guilt? Second-hand embarrassment? Sadness? You couldn't tell.

You sat there in silence, processing everything. “But- but I'm not. I'm not sleeping with him.” You sputtered.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, “We know you ain't. You don't need to listen to those people anyways, it's just barrack talk, people needing a story to make their lives more interesting.” A well of emotions started to flood your senses, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the gravity of the situation hitting you.

Captain’s girl.

What. The. Fuck.

This was Price’s fault. It had to have been, Soap said he was acting weird. Maybe this was all his elaborate plan to destroy your career and kick you off 141 for fraternization. It had to have been him, right? You weren't thinking as clearly as you would have liked considering you were borderline drunk, but that didn't matter. You shot up from where you were sitting, making Soap jump.

Stumbling you started to make a beeline for the entrance, Gaz also got up and followed you, much to your chagrin. “[Name]? Where are you going??” He called after you.

“To find Price!” (And kill him.) You shouted back angrily, storming outside before Gaz had the chance to stop you. Obviously, you didn't think this through enough because it was pitch dark outside. And Price was nowhere in sight, fuck.

Whatever, you could search this place for hours if you had to. He was bound to pop up somewhere, like how the tide is drawn to the moon you and Price always had a way of being pulled into each other. You stormed through the dark, almost tripping on your own feet once or twice in the process.

You'd been there long enough that you could tell what area was what. Even in the pitch-black cloak of the dark, you could feel your heartbeat in your head. It was like your body was pulsing with the rhythm of your anger. Just as you were about to start shouting his name a light caught your eye. You swiveled your neck so fast it burned the muscles in your nape. Low and behold it was Price walking out of the medical tent with his single crutch.

He stopped when he noticed you, his face a mix of confusion. “What are you doing? I thought I told you guys not to go outside after lights out?”

You felt every emotion rush back to you at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the fucking absurdity of the whole situation. Your hands clenched into fists, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I thought you sucked before but I underestimated how much of a jackass you could be!”

Price stood there like a deer caught in headlights, so baffled he couldn't even speak. “Excuse me?”

You marched straight up to him, “You heard me. Apparently making my life a living hell wasn't enough for you was it? You sadistic fuck. Do you get off on torturing me? Is that it?” You spat. The heat in your face rising with each word.

He didn't say anything, his navy eyes looking at you like you belonged in an insane asylum. After a minute of silence, he breathed, “[Name]. Realistically I should be laying into you right now and giving you every single punishment there is for the rest of your stay here for cursing me out after lights out with no provocation on my end. But, I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you're acting like a screaming banshee before I send your ass straight to the bins.”

His words only ticked you off further, well two could play dumb. “You know exactly why I'm angry! No provocation is such bullshit. You- You just think I'm so stupid don't you?!” You were stumbling, your mouth felt heavy. It was like your mind was moving faster than your body could keep up with.

“Are you drunk?” He asked incredulously. You shook your head, “No! I mean yes I had a few drinks but I'm not drunk. Stop deflecting-” You rambled on.

His eyes turned to narrow slits, “I don't even know what I'm deflecting- you can't just start making a scene and expect me to know why you're angry. I'm not a mind reader.” He groaned.

“The name! The rumor- whatever you call it. You spread a rumor about me to the entire base that I'm sleeping with you! People are calling me your girl! The guys told me, everyone thinks I'm some slut because of you!” Everything in your body was burning, it felt good to finally yell at him but the words hit you hard.

You were labeled as the slut. No matter what you did there was always going to be a man overshadowing you just because of a preemptive notion that you were weaker. Something you'd spent your life fighting was now your reality.

Price’s eyes went wide, he almost resembled a wooden board. For a moment his eyes softened, like he was taking pity on you. “That's what this is about.” He breathed, “Look, I’m just as upset about that rumor and the name as you are. I don't know who started it but I can give you my word it wasn't me. You can ask any one of the guys and they will tell you the same thing.”

You started to speak but he raised a hand to stop you, “-I know it's not fair. But the damage has already been done, the thing about rumors is that they pass. And nobody thinks you're a slut. You're just as capable as anyone else on this team.” He said calmly.

It was silent for a moment. You didn't really know what to do or what to believe. All you had to go on was his word, which wouldn't normally hold much weight but something about him seemed so genuine. “I- how do I know you're not lying to my face? You hate me. And I’m just supposed to believe a random person made this rumor up when you've been trying to kick me off the team from the start.”

Price halted for a moment, his face reflecting a series of conflicting emotions. “I don't hate you, and I am not trying to kick you off.”

“Well, it sure as hell doesn't seem that way, even Soap said you act differently around me. I don't understand why you fucking hate me so much when almost all I ever do is try and suck up to you!” You shouted, your voice slightly slurring with how fast the words escaped your lips.

A vein bulged in Price’s temple, his jaw working with his growing temperament. “I don't know how often we have to go through this same conversation before you get it through your thick head. I don't hate you, I'm hard on you. There's a difference.”

“Well, that's not what it looks like to me. Especially not to the mystery person who just conjured a rumor that we’re sleeping together out of thin air.” You seethed, until now you'd been standing a few feet away from him. But somehow, amid the argument, you found yourself now uncomfortably close.

Price scowled down at you, “What do you want me to say to you?! That I'm sorry I also got caught up in some dumb rumor. That I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt because I was a little harsh.”

Your mind was telling you to communicate your feelings like a normal person. The alcohol and your heart told you your fist connecting with his face was the better option. And right now, your heart (plus the alcohol) was winning.

“I want you to fucking show me you don't hate me! You can say all you want that I'm just being dramatic but there's obviously a reason why I think you hate me.” You fired back.

The two of you stood there for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours. A scowl on Price’s lips and his eyebrows pinched together, there was something about the heat of the moment that made you more on edge. You were hyperaware of everything around you, most importantly you were hyperaware of your proximity to him. The night air was cold but you were on fire.

“You want me to show you? Fine.” He grit out, and before you had time to react he was on you.

His hand was on your neck, thick and warm. Pulling you close so that his lips captured yours in what you could only describe as ‘a hungry kiss.’ The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and before you even knew what you were doing, you started kissing him back.

Fuck. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, a woody smell clung to him like sap. Greedily your hands pulled at him, your fingers bunching the cotton of his shirt like he'd disappear. You'd kissed men before but never in your life had anyone kissed you like this. The kiss was hot, desperate, almost angry. His tongue slid along yours, you felt the drag of his teeth nip at your bottom lip and his throaty groan when you only pulled him closer.

You couldn't remember why he was kissing you, or why you started kissing him back. You didn't know why you were so angry, nor did you pay mind to the chance that anyone could walk outside and see the two of you.

You heard his crutch absentmindedly fall to the ground, clattering against the hard dirt. Price's other hand snaked to the back of your head, curling his thick digits into the locks of your hair. His nose brushed against yours, he felt so warm. Asshole or not this man knew how to kiss.

“[Name]!”

Gaz’s voice broke you out of the trance you seemed to have been under. Immediately you and Price tore apart, your heart jackhammered in your ribcage. You looked at Price, he looked at you.

His blue eyes were blown wide, his lips parted and shiny with the reminisce of your spit. A reddish tinge colored his ears and cheeks. He looked horrified.

You didn't fair much better. You probably looked like a gaping fish. You'd just kissed Price. Price had kissed you. You two had been kissing. Holy shit.

Footsteps snapped your attention away from him, Gaz ran to meet you. His breath heavy like he’d been running around for a good amount of time. “[Name] Price didn’t start the rumor- you left before I could tell you. I-” He stopped, his eyes darting between both you and Price. You probably looked as guilty as you felt. “I…uhm I guess you two worked it out?”

There was an awkward silence before anyone spoke, Price cleared his throat, quickly wiping his lips. “She’s aware… You two go back to the tent, it’s late. We leave early tomorrow so get a good sleep.”

You were still in shock, could you even move your limbs? Another silence hovered over the three of you like a looming dust cloud. Gaz awkwardly shuffled to you, patting your shoulder as if to say ‘party's over, let’s go.’ He nodded at Price, “Right, see you in the morning Cap.”

Before you knew it, your legs were moving as Gaz led you back to the tent. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You alright?” He said hesitantly. You didn't know what to say to him, you didn't even know what you were feeling. And you doubted saying, ‘Honestly I don't know because two seconds ago Price's tongue was down my throat and I can't tell if I'm turned on or horrified,’ was appropriate.

So, you settled for a simple: “I’m fine.” Gaz gave you a skeptical look, but he chose not to comment on it. Once you got back to the tent Soap and Ghost had already started to get into their respective cots. Soap gave you a funny look over his shoulder, “What happened to you? You look shell-shocked.” He laughed.

You didn't even have the energy to respond, giving him a disgruntled grimace in return. You fell into your cot, burying your face into the thick sleeping bag. Your cheeks burned, and the taste of Price still lingered on your lips.

Apart of you wished that you were blackout drunk, then maybe it would be easier knowing whatever happened would disappear by the morning. But his groans, his hands in your hair, his lips, they were carved into your brain. And they weren't leaving.

You had to grapple with the reality that Price had kissed you. And you had kissed him back.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, wait! Don't go!

Well… hello there. It's me again! To those of you who aren't familiar, you can call me Baebae. And to those who are welcome back! I've written fanfiction a bit before (check out my other stuff on my home page) but nothing like this. So that makes this special, and I'm happy you can join me while I embark on this new journey.

There is no spice in this chapter but it is coming in the next part. There are only two parts to this so you won’t have to wait that long. Trust me I am trying my best to crank out the next one so I’ll try my best to be quick!!

I would be so, so, so, soooo grateful if you would like, follow, or repost. Don't feel any pressure but I love hearing any feedback you can provide as I am relatively new to this and it spurs me on to know people enjoy what I put out. If you so choose you can message me or comment if you'd like me to @ you in the next part so you're notified. <3

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you in the next part. Toodles! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part II of Captains Girl!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[dreambunnynotes]

bunny's 60-day glow up challenge ❤︎

hi my loves! my birthday is right around the corner and i want to end the year strong, so i thought it would be a cute and encouraging idea to host a challenge for all of us glow-up girlies! the steps for the challenge are very simple and customizable, and they give plenty of space for low-energy days. this challenge is all about trying your best to remain consistent in your goals, not to strive for an impossible "perfection" but instead to build trust in yourself that you can show up for your beautiful self and achieve the glow up that you deserve!

steps for the challenge:

pick three habits or things you want to dedicate time to every day

write a sentence or two on why you want to focus on these habits so that you have motivation and inspiration to complete them on hard days; this could include a basic "why" or you could write out specific goals you'd like to achieve through these habits

write out three different energy level variations of the habits so you can achieve your habits even on low-energy days

optional step: write an intro post sharing your habits and goals with everyone! you can use the tag #bunny60days to connect with others doing the challenge and hype each other up with accountability and love - you can also tag me and i can cheer you on hehe! 🥰 otherwise you can simply keep track on your own using a journal or planner or whatever works best for you!

optional step: write daily (or weekly) check-in posts sharing what you accomplished on the different days of the challenge, what you'd like to improve on the next day, or just a general update on how you're feeling. remember that this is a feel-good challenge, not a shame-filled one, so be kind to yourself and use this reflection as a way to show compassion and empathy to yourself 💕 again, you can use the tag #bunny60days to track your progress and see how others are doing!

the only very important rule for this challenge:

if you fall off and don't complete every habit you've written down in a day, do not start the challenge over, just pick up from where you left off! remember, this challenge is about building self-trust and resiliency - this means that you won't let one bad day or break in a streak stop you from continuing your habits. being "strong and hardworking" doesn't mean doing everything perfectly from day one, it means picking yourself up when you fall off course and trying again even though you may feel imperfect.

why only three habits?

when we do challenges, it's so easy to want to accomplish everything all at once, from working out to sleep schedules to everything in between. however, when you eventually burn yourself out or don't complete everything on your super long list of habits, shame is bound to follow, and shame does not make healthy soil for a beautiful plant to grow. starting off with three habits with different energy levels is a good way to ease into habit building while still feeling challenging enough to be interesting.

i don't know where to begin! can you give me an example of some habits or goals?

absolutely! if you'd like an example, you can check out my own personal goals for the challenge here. i'll be participating too, so you know that you have at least one person joining you in your glow up! 🥰 there is also a blank template below for you to use for your own glow up adventure.

blank template for you:

my chosen habits:

-

-

-

my goals and why's:

habit one:

habit two:

habit three:

my habit energy tiers:

habit one:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

habit two:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

habit three:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

let's do this! bunny xoxo

[artinvain]

pls pls pls more abby strapping/scissoring. make it NASTY NASTY NASTY 🫶🏾🏃🏾‍♀️

+ pervy/creepy roommate abby bc why not, if i'm going to be nasty!!

cw: manipulation, slight overtones of sacrilege, grinding/scissoring, strap usage, finger n oral, crying, sub!top abby, squirting, possessiveness.

no men, minors blank or ageless blogs allowed!!!!!!!!!!!

abby has been pining over you for months. it started as soon as she had met you for an interview about the room she was leasing. she opened the door and there a scent permeated from you, she swore it was an aphrodisiac. your soft skin and plush hips under that sundress. she was completely infatuated.

abby was head over heels and she'd be damned if she didn't see you again, so she lowered her rates for you after you'd mentioned the place was a little out of your budget (though, completely worth it -- you added). when you tried to politely decline out of respect for her. It was her father's apartment after all. however abby insisted in such a way that you couldn't say no.

she offered to help you move in, to show you around the city. she was already prattling on about dinners her father would pay for and roomie movie nights. you really couldn't say no to her offer if you tried, lowered rates, clean, spacious and a nice roommate? you were new in the city -- every other apartment you saw in your budget was loaded with roaches, dirty needles and loud noises. this was probably the best it would get.

to you abby seemed quiet, innocent and very very kind. she'd mentioned she didn't have many friends as she helped you move in, and slowly but surely she became your best friend. and of course a part of you had fallen for abby. how could you not? she was beautiful, funny, smart, protective and nurturing and god she was so fucking hot. but you weren't sure if a relationship was something you wanted, let alone not if it ruined the great friendship you finally had.

abby disagreed, she had read it in your journal and she wasn't worried about ruining your friendship because she was convinced that all roads let to bringing the two of you together. what else could explain how much she loved you?

what, if not love could explain why the scent of your panties, worn and damp from the day made her so wet. what but love could explain how hard she cums from looking at the pretty little bikini posts on your Instagram while her nose is filled with your scent, her tongue laps at the wet spot on your panties.

she's only worried today, about how long she's waited, when you mention how well your date went earlier that day. you hadn't stopped speaking about ellie since you walked back into the apartment this afternoon. abby tried to hide her agitation. how could you actually consider dating someone else. the thought nearly made her sick.

she'd seen it everywhere - the way you look at her, when you bring her coffee in the morning or fall asleep in her lap. you love her. and she loves you. it was simple and maybe now she needed to show you, really let you know how she felt instead of beating around the bush.

"abby?" your voice cracks the glass of her dissociation and brings her back into her body. you shift so that abby's long legs and entangles with yours. it's normal, you sit like this all the time, knees up and face to face but this time, her body so tight with need for you -- abby groans under her breath at the heat between your legs near her thinly clad thigh.

the familiar smell of your pussy dizzying her and she can't help that her hips buck. and your breath hitches when her warm cunt bumps yours.

"abby," you gulp, eyes low and meeting hers a small smile etched on her face. you've barely touched and yet your stomach is tight with lust. "tell me you want me to stop and i will," abby whispers, bucking her hips again and moaning when you meet her thrusts.

"see? baby we're made for each other," she groans at the feeling of your warm thick thighs on hers, "she could never make you feel like this." abby says very matter-of-fact. abby licks her lips and grips your thighs pulling you close and grinding her clothed pussy against yours.

"f-fuck you feel so good," abby whines, closing her thighs tight around you and watching your eyes roll back at the feeling of her winding her hips against you.

"abby - god," you groan "fuck, fuck please," you're already so desperate, your pussy wet and slippery against the lace of your panties and dampening your shorts.

"hmpfuck that's it baby, m'so glad you're finally mine," she whimpers, grunting and humping you, her blunt nails biting into your thighs. her statement flies over your head as you reach your highs, your bodies twitching as abby grinds you through your orgasms.

"god, sweet god, look at you, you're so pretty all fucked out for me," abby moans, looking over your flushed face scrunched up in the aftershocks of pleasure. abby leans down to kiss you and your tongues taste each other, sweet and wet and you're both moaning into each other's mouths.

abby's hands come to play with your nipples like she'd watched you do that once you left your door open a crack. her fingers roughly tugging and twisting your nipples as you moan, your back arching at the sweet pain. abby's hand slither down into your panties and circles your clit.

"god, you're so fucking wet," abby moans, her fingers sinking into you as you pull your shorts and panties down. abby groans at the sight of your pussy wet and swollen and swallowing her fingers all the way to the hilt and she curls them, watching your eyebrows raise and your mouth fall open.

"yeah honey? that feel good?" abby cooes, her forehead pressed against yours so she can taste your moans and squeaks when she starts strumming your clit, rubbing so quickly your breath can't keep up. she can feel you twitching erratically around her.

"cum for me, please baby i need to see you - fuck you're so beautiful," her teeth gritting and she moans as you do, your cum leaking down her wrist and abby whimpers, going down to lick and tase you. her hips humping you leg desperately as she sucks your clit into her mouth and stills her fingers if only to readjust them so she can keep fucking them into you.

you cum so quickly around her "jesus fuck, abigail," you yelp -- her full name falling from your mouth like a command and her body twitches as she cums, whimpering and moaning around you clit. tears leaking down her face as she sputters into you, fingers locking up inside you.

"god, so good -- you're so good to me abby," you gulp and abby licks her fingers and then comes up to kiss you. "i am, and i'm gonna keep you safe - treat you good, no one will ever treat you like i do, i love you baby," abby kisses you before you can reply.

her fingers sinking into you so deep again your eyes cross and when abby hears you say "i love - love it abby love you" she grunts, her fingers fucking faster into you - kissing and sucking marks into your neck and chest.

"mine," she grunts into you, "you're mine baby, not letting you go - ever," you'll agree with pretty much anything she says at this point, dizzy with pleasure you can't quite compose yourself as she clambers onto the bed and handles your legs, folding you in half and sinking her lubed cock into you.

abby bucks and snaps her hips into you. her strap stretching you, so deep your belly aches with each thrust. "god you're so fucking tight," abby moans, one hands starting to play with your nipples and then rubbing your clit and the other wrapping around your throat.

"my girl," abby whimpers with such faith as if it's the end of a prayer. your legs twitch and you hum lowly as you squirt around her, "christ, yes yes thank you baby, god give me your cum that's it," she moans, snapping her hips and then pulling out gently just to lap at your pussy, her legs falling over her shoulders.

abby has to hold you down as she cleans and licks your taste from your thighs and cunt. "good girl, so good for me," abby whines laying kisses to your mound and then belly, your breasts and chest. she kisses you neck and cheeks and eyelids. pressing a final kiss to your mouth.

"mine," abby sighs happily as you cuddle into her side.

🤫🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @emiliabby (comment to be added to tag list xx)

[rizsu]

ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤ◟ toast to reality; may tomorrow come again. ── toji fushiguro ﹕ jujutsu kaisen.

﹙ a husband’s wish ﹚ ⊹ it's your marriage anniversary! toji prepared an entire table worth of food for the night. this beautiful night shall be one to remember.

+ love, ‘su: so basically he gonna kill himself no wife no life

the night falls. the once blue sky blanketed with clouds are now replaced by a dark, blank sky littered with twinkling stars. though the moon lacks presence, it doesn't take away from the beauty the night holds.

in tokyo there's a home. it's not a huge mansion, but it's not tiny either. it's a mid-sized home with traditional japanese aspects here and there. if you were to ask toji about the house he'd say it was built around you. every detail was put in your favour. from the garden to the curtains, they were all for you.

he didn't care about himself in terms of aesthetic. if it's usable then it's good. what he did care for, however, was you. you were toji's ray of light that held significant presence inside a dark room.

a beauty you were. toji worshipped you in every way possible. he was always gentle; making sure to not bruise your skin with his strength. you weren't fragile glass, yet he treated you as such. like a dandelion that'll lose its pappi if the wind is got strong.

now, his daily routine found a change: gathering flowers at your gravestone every weekend. each week he'd rotate different flowers in the order that you liked them. if he was unable to obtain the bouquet of the week, he'd substitute it with a trinket you'd always buy.

tonight he'll reunite with you. the young night will welcome his death with warm arms. there isn't a date that's more fitting than this. celebrating your marriage anniversary throughout the day and ending it with a death he's been meticulously planning.

sure, he's listened to the repetitive “she's always watching over you” quotes a million times but there's only so much comfort it can provide. he doesn't want you watching over him, he wants to be with you. to hell with the ghost stories.

at the dining table toji sits alone. the main lights are dimmed — the candles are the only thing properly illuminating the table with a soft orange glow. the dishes are laid out, the glasses were filled with wine, the ice bucket homed what was once your go-to red wine.

“a toast to us, dear,” he says, raising his glass before he downs the entire glass in one go.

despite the poison dancing through the liquid, the taste remained bittersweet.

unbothered, toji continued his meal. why not finish what he started while waiting for nature to take its course? soon, he'll be with you again. just wait, please. it's all he asks. his only regret is that he took a year to reunite with you.

[obsessedwrhys]

The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)

Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly

can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))

Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother

Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them

-🌑

I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader

ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)

Parts: 2

With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.

Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.

"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.

"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.

"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.

"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.

"Hey... take it easy���"

"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"

"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"

"I fucking said what I said!"

"Fuck you!"

"FUCK YOU!!"

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.

"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."

"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.

For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.

However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.

Even though you convince yourself you were happier.

You never felt secure.

You always felt like something was out to get you.

Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?

You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.

"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.

"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.

"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.

"Thank you"

Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.

"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.

"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.

You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.

Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.

....

"Will it work?"

........

"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"

...........

"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"

...............

"Yes sir"

.....................

"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"

...............................

Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.

You were... in a cage?

You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.

"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.

It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.

"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.

"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.

"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.

"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.

"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"

Powers? You have to be high right?

Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?

Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?

"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.

Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.

"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.

As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.

"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.

"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.

"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.

Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...

"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.

Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.

"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.

"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.

Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.

"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.

Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.

But why is this happening?

Why you?

The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.

"So... did you like my gift?"

"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.

"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.

His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.

"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.

"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.

"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.

Fuck... this cannot be your life now...

You're now an animal kept in a cage.

Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.

You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.

"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"

"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"

Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.

"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.

"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.

"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.

When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?

After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.

"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.

"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.

"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.

He did?

"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.

The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.

"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.

"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.

"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.

"Don't touch me"

"I got it"

The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?

"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.

"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.

"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.

Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.

"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.

"They can protect you"

"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"

"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.

"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.

"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.

"What the fuck did they do to you...?"

"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.

"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.

Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.

"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.

"Thank you..." You muttered.

After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.

"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.

"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.

"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"

"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.

"Do we go after them sir?"

"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.

(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)

[prokopetz]

The next revision of the playtest draft for Eat God is now up. This version includes all of the missing rules from the previous version – advancement, Progress and Calamity Clocks, etc. – as well as numerous expansions and clarifications; the game is now considered feature-complete, though it still needs worked examples, pre-made scenarios, and a whole pile of Big Stupid Tables™.

The most noteworthy addition to this draft, however, is (mostly) complete character creation rules. All but one of the remaining blanks have been filled in, and many Traits have been revised to make them more flexible and add a few interesting new rules toys. You can more easily stat up horrible little gargoyles, there's a little something for the hypno kink crowd, and also you can be a (very small) werewolf now.

(The one remaining blank alluded to above with that "mostly" is the 36th Trait, which I'm leaving off for now because I can't decide exactly what to slot in there and I don't want to spin my wheels on that any longer; for now it just reads "reroll".)

Last but not least, Eat God now has a cover illustration, thanks to the very talented @magpiemalarkey. We decided to be forthright about the game's inspirations; for legal reasons, the depicted characters are not Muppets. (To be clear, only the illustration is their work; the text design for the game's title is a placeholder I threw together myself using a commercial font, so don't blame them for that part.)

As always, questions, criticisms, and bizarre rants are welcome – and if you'd like to give it a spin but don't have a group, character creation is its own little self-contained minigame, and all you need is six-sided dice to give it a try; feel free to post your creations in the notes!

You can find the latest revision at the links above, or below:

https://penguinking.com/eat-god/

[phyrestartr]

Prisoner of the Coast | Sukuna x M!Reader (WIP)

#SFW wip, reader is a water dragon, sukuna is a ronin, lore, mythology, there's plot, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, probably sad ending?, AU note: I JUST WANTED TO POST SOMETHING IDK

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

Fear was not what he felt. Ryoumen Sukuna did not fear you who he faced; he was not a weak man. He was not a faint-hearted warrior. He was not a coward. But gleaming, ghastly eyes reminded him of mortality. Of the very human blood embedded in his veins. 

And the longer those round, moonlit eyes stared, the longer they sliced through the endless, empty blankness of the forgotten seaside palace, the louder that sound of drumming shook Sukuna's skull, against his ribs. But he was not afraid; he did not fear the gods. He would not fear one of their ilk in the flesh. 

The sound of water shifting echoed in the infinite void, dancing off distant walls as shards of light managed to catch on gentle, lapping wakes. Yet your head never moved an inch. Sukuna had seen other snakes do the same in his travels, keeping their heads still while their bodies squeezed and slithered–but their eyes were bound to fall closed. Yours stayed awake. Staring like the head of a Lion Dance puppet. Abnormal. Unaware of such abnormality. 

Sukuna gripped one of his swords tightly, ready to quick-draw if you'd chosen to strike. Gods were like that–hateful, horrible, honourless–and he expected nothing less from a beast like you; however, you'd been meandering towards him his entire stay, he realized too late. Slow. Quiet. Patient. The way one might approach a scared animal. 

I'm not getting paid enough for this shit. Sukuna found a smile, though. Maybe I’m getting paid too fuckin’ much. Who the hell does this thing need protecting from, huh? 

The question gnawed on his mind as your grandeur size became near-tangible–then, your eyes closed. Right when Sukuna started to make out the glint of scales against the moonlight of your eyes, the shimmering glow vanished, leaving only dappling sunlight streaming in from time-worn holes in the towering ceiling. 

“What do you want?” A man’s voice, your voice, asked from the shadows. The source was lower than before, ringing from a height so oddly human it gave Sukuna whiplash. 

“Ho? A shapeshifter?” Sukuna wondered, grinning. “You think you can take me on like that?”

“I don’t intend to ‘take you on’ at all, samurai.” You sighed and paced. Sukuna followed the sound of bare feet stepping on stones, coupled with the stiff drag of something scratching against the floor. Perhaps a tail? Perhaps fins? He didn’t know. The sunlight protecting him proved too stark against the shadows you dwelled within. 

“Someone has sent you here,” you decided. Sukuna felt your stare on him, though he could not see the twin lights. “My parents.” 

The grip on his blade lessened. “More or less. Said there was a godling that needed babysitting.” 

“Babysitting–?! The fucking audacity. Well, I promise you, this isn’t babysitting.” You snapped, bitter. 

Sukuna smirked. Never did he imagine a god-like thing would be so rough around the edges. “Then what would you call it?”

“Imprisonment.” You stepped toward the light when you said it, coming from an angle Sukuna didn’t expect, making him whirl in place and face the shadowed silhouette standing too close yet too far away. “And you’re my own, personal jailer.” Then, after a moment, you added, “Well. I guess it is glorified babysitting afterall. Expensive babysitting, at that. Congratulations on the easy money.” 

“That mean you’re gonna make this simple for me?” Sukuna asked. He tucked his arms into his sleeves as he waited for you to say something, but you only stepped back into the empty blackness filling your glorious cage. 

“Might as well,” your voice echoed, wilting, “I don’t care to leave this place anyway.” 

“‘N why the hell not?” He asked. 

But there was no answer; there was only the quiet splash of water, and twin ghost lights disappearing into the depths.

[zae-heeyyy]

Piquancy- II

Summary: You wake up in Arthur's room. Pairing: Arthur Morgan X Female Reader Word Count: 1,486 Tags: High honor Arthur, developing relationship, alcohol and intoxication, fluff, before the Blackwater Massacre

previous next

A/n: Well, I got carried away with the story, and now I don't know how many parts there'll be. I split some things to give you about 1,500 words instead of 5,000. I'm having a great time writing again, and I hope you enjoy!

piquancy: a sharp or stimulating quality that provokes a strong, often intriguing reaction.

For six seconds, waking up felt weightless. You'd forgotten where and who you were, your mind mercifully blank of heartache, running, and lawlessness. In that tenth of a minute, your lifestyle of living out of tents, squatting in abandoned houses, and sleeping under the stars felt far away, like some other poor girl's life and not yours. The logical, constantly worried part of your brain stayed asleep, and only half your senses stirred.

Despite the fireplace long gone cold, warmth enveloped you from all around. Sunlight beamed through the window, illuminating dancing dust particles and kissing your skin while plush blankets shielded you from the lingering morning chill. Most of the warmth, however, emanated from the colossus of a man beside you. Arthur's heavy arm anchored you close. You were spooned against him, his chest molded perfectly into your back, and his long legs loosely tangled in yours. And at seven seconds, you were fully conscious. Heaven's floodgates opened, and you were swept away in the deluge of your life.

Getting out of the bed was like breaking through the surface after being plunged deep into the ocean; you didn't even realize you were holding your breath until you surfaced and both feet landed on the dry land of floorboards. Standing now, you glanced back at Arthur, still sleepily adrift in the sea of blankets.

Cognizant of every creek and groan of the worn wooden planks beneath your feet, you walked nimbly across the room. The ark to save you from the flood, the door, was just within reach. Before boarding, you looked back at the sleeping man with a crinkle in his brow. Worry always seemed to plague him, even in his sleep. Part of you wondered what would happen if you stayed, how he'd react to waking with you in his arms, but you didn't even get to finish the thought.

Distracted by your own yearning, you got swept away in the debris of cowboy left by the previous night's tsunami of liquor. The heel of your boot caught on his gun belt, dragging the damn thing–– and everything attached to– it across the floor. 

The rouse was up then, the room filling with the racket of scrapping metal. Arthur's cattleman fell from its holster, striking the floor with a jarring clatter. The gunslinger jolted awake, and his hand instinctively shot to his side, searching for the very weapon that caused the racket in the first place.

His shoulders relaxed when it dawned on him that he wasn't in danger and was, in fact, looking at the one person who brought him a semblance of peace. He rubbed his face with both hands, wiping away the sleep and keeping out the morning sun. The room was silent now as the two of you marveled at each other.

"You stayed?" Disbelief and hangover thickened his already deep voice. 

"You asked me to," you answered quickly, "said you didn't want to do anything stupid."

Your words hung in the air, and you cursed yourself for acting so frantic. Arthur pretended not to notice, throwing the blankets off himself and walking around to your side of the bed. You didn't realize you were frozen all that time, an iceberg finally being thawed by the heat of him next to you. 

"Hope I didn't say anything more stupid than usual," he said, bending to retrieve his revolver. Seeing his belt still tangled around your feet, he offered a supporting hand while you fished yourself free.

"Youu get touchy and when you're drunk," you mused, feeling the awakeness dissipate with his hand in yours. "And sentimental." Upright again, you dangled the belt in front of him.

He chuckled nervously, buckled himself back in, and put the gun back in its holster, "Yeah, that sounds about right. M'sorry if I– "he scratched at his beard, frowning and internally fighting to find the right words.

"Whiskey does that to a man," You joked, trying to ease the new tension between you. Arthur nodded slowly, then shook his head and turned his back to you as the memories of last night came crashing back. 

"Ain't an excuse." Shame cast a dark veil over his handsome face. "Ain't an excuse for me to do what I did. Say what I said. I mean––talkin' like that, actin' like that—" he settled back down onto the bed, clasping his hands in front of him. His jaw was clenched like you'd seen after a job gone wrong or a disagreement with Dutch. "You're too good— too sweet for me to treat you like some —"

"Arthur..." you cut in on his self-deprecating monologue, sat beside him, and laid a hand on his knee. He seized that opportunity to lace his fingers in yours.

And his gorgeous blue eyes sucked you in. You were swimming again, more like floating away in them. His eyes were water, and his voice lulled you like waves.

"Want you to know I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or self-impose, I just—" Then he stopped himself and tore his ocean eyes away from yours again. "I just let the liquor get the best of me."

Your face fell despite you willing it not to, and you started to retreat into yourself, a lump swelling in your throat. Of course, everything had been taken out of context with the effects of the liquor. You should've known better, should've known that's just how he is. He'd have danced with anybody; would've said the same things to the next woman helping him up the stairs. He didn't mean it; he never did when he was drunk.

And then his grip tightened a desperate urgency to keep your hands in his. He shook his head as if reading your mind and dispelled everything you'd thought to yourself.

"Wasn' too far gone though. Not gone enough that I don'tremember what I said—what I meant—it wasn't just the whiskey talkin'." How his rugged man could soften himself so much and take your breath away would remain beyond you. His thumb stroked your knuckles tenderly, his eyes bore into you, and he swallowed.

"I know better. If I want a lady, I gotta court her right. I might've been raised rough, but I got enough sense to know that much."

Your four hands seemed to have minds of their own, twisting together as if trying to close the distance between you.

"Oh, Arthur," it was barely a whisper. You didn't know what to say, but you scooted in closer to him.

"Ain't good at this kind of talk," he confessed, "but whatever I said, I meant it."

There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading, like he couldn't bear the thought of holding it in anymore, couldn't bear you not knowing how he felt. You placed your hand soft on his cheek.

"You are stupid," you teased, pressing your forehead to his. He returned a chuckle and locked his fingers around your wrist, needing desperately to feel your skin under the tips of his fingers. He had to make sure this was real––that you were real— that this was happening, and he wasn't still trapped in some drunken hallucination from the night before. Blood rushed to his head, turning his ears a bright vermilion. With his other hand, he caressed your cheek despite the self-doubt pumping through him. 

And then you were submerged again, his lips an undertow, dragging you beneath the waves as they cut the air from your mouth. Drowning wasn't so bad as long as you were drowning in him. 

And the kiss lingered, both of your hearts pounding in your chest. You could've just about melted into him, but you pulled away as the town clock struck eight, its chimes slicing through the moment. Your hand dropped from his face heavily into your lap.

"Should get back," you sighed. "Got chores to do and all. Don't want Grimshaw to lose her head. She ain't exactly a fairy godmother."

Arthur's shoulders lifted with amusement, and he brushed a piece of your hair out of your face with a contained smile.

"I'm sure they're handling things just fine without you. Take yer time getting back; get a meal, have bath, wash the night away. I'm sure that weren't too pleasent––sleeping beside me and all."

It was all too pleasant, and you wanted to do it again soon. But you were on your way. Arthur put his boots back on and walked you down the stairs to the hitching post. You tried not to squeal as he gripped your hips tight and lifted you onto your house.

"Come back tonight," he said, stroking the animal's muzzle. An edge of nervousness scratched at his voice once more. "Spend the night with me, for real this time."

You departed, the lingering warmth of a kiss he'd left on your hand still tracing your skin. And, of course, you'd return.

next

[spdrvyn]

i'll be lonely with you — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: with the passage of time and whispers from your acquaintances at the spider society HQ, you've found out that your boss has a habit of sneaking out of his office during the dead hours of night to eat dinner. completely alone.

NOTES: new formatting for fics !!! do you guys like it? :3 i decided to include summaries that way it would be easier for people to understand the general jist of the plot without me spewing nonsense in the notes. anyways enjoy !!!!! thanks for the support on my recent works as well ^_^

You didn't consider yourself the most introverted person.

Even when it came to hundreds of Spider-people, you tried to get to know who you could and become acquainted with as many of them as possible. How could you not?

However, there were few that you knew on a more personal level. People that you'd keep close to your side whenever you visited headquarters. People that you'd enjoy having an exchange of gossip with during lunch in the bustling cafeteria.

Miguel O'Hara wasn't exactly one of those people.

It's not like you didn't want to develop something more than a boss-coworker relationship. Though, conversations with him were always difficult, to the say the least. Most of the time, he's talking about work and anything that goes past that boundary goes unspoken.

Quite literally. You've forgotten the amount of times that you've built up the courage to mention anything about your other (not deceased) relatives or your friends and the amount of times that the room was filled with a silence so awkward that crickets are on the same volume as missile launchers.

Though, you didn't want to lose hope. You sort of understood where he was coming from. People go through grief and mourning in different ways, Miguel's was probably just isolation and a complete avoidance of discussions of personal life.

He was a leader. A good one. A trait of a good leader is to connect with their subordinates, establish relationships. So it really made you think.

How messed up was he that he missed that one quality?

"Hey. Your food's getting cold." There it goes, the sound of your train of thought leaving the station. Sometimes, you were grateful for Jess being there for you. She could snap you back to reality you like nobody else could.

You mutter an apology before stabbing your salad with your fork and taking a bite, Jess rests her head on her palm. Raising a brow at you, "So, did you want to eat lunch with me for fun or are you just using me to get info about Miguel? Again?"

Nervously, you shake your head. "It's nothing like that!" She leans in a little more, waving her other free hand in the air in a circular motion.

"...But if you have anything that you'd like to share then I'm not going to refuse entirely—"

"Oh my god. Fine, fine. What do you want to know?"

With that question, it felt like your mind blanked. You fidgeted with your fork, twirling a leaf of your salad against the plate as you pondered on what question to ask.

Jess responds with a deep sigh, "If you're trying to find a way to talk to him more, he doesn't leave that office of his much unless it's for work. He's in there most of time. Although..."

"Although?"

"Although, I've seen him come here normally somewhere around midnight to get a very late dinner alone. The place is less crowded, most are just in their own universe or sleeping or working."

Your face falls a little upon hearing that. "So I can only catch a non-serious conversation with him... in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly. Besides, there's a good chance he's going to just— continue talking about work with you whether he's in his office or not. You know that, right?"

You drop your utensil in defeat, burying your face shamefully in your hands. "I know..."

You quickly wrap up your lunch with Jess, as she shares bits and pieces about him. You had really wondered how she was able to learn all of these things about him anyway but before you had the opportunity to ask her, she told you to not.

Respecting her wishes, you keep your mouth shut. Respecting her even further, you decide to pack up both of your plates and wave her a goodbye before picking up those thoughts that you were left a while ago.

Admittedly, you didn't know why you were so persistent for something like this, for someone like him.

Determination was a strength of yours but that didn't mean that you didn't know where your limits rested and you would back off when you needed to.

There was just something. A swirling feeling in your gut that was telling you to keep going.

That it would be worth it.

So, you follow everything that Jess told you. Around midnight, he'd be alone, in the cafeteria, and looking for an empanada to snack on before heading back into his office. A very small fraction of his time left for personal conversation if you tried hard enough!

This most likely wasn't a good idea. You didn't sleep at all through the day but the thrill kept you alive and thriving. You confidently stride up to the counters of the cafeteria, picking out a small bag of chips for yourself and the last empanada for your soon-to-be snack companion.

Now, you wait.

You surveyed your surroundings and as you were doing that, you realize why he particularly emerges during these kinds of hours to eat. There was a significantly less amount of people.

Whenever you came here during the day, it was a miracle to be able to find completely empty seats. At times, you were forced to sit with a group of people.

You weren't entirely ungrateful for that though, you've made a lot of friends that way. Sure, it was awkward at first but the more you were forced to interact with people that way, the more you adapted to making small talk.

Even then, there were a lot of tables that were taken here save for one completely empty one at the far end.

Then, you finally see that navy and red suit.

Deciding to observe him just a little bit more, you watch him curse under his breath seeing the display case for the empanadas empty. Before he walks away any further, you tap him on the shoulder.

His mask was on, his eyes widen a little bit before you hand him the small box. "I saved the last one for you."

With a soft huff, you see the muscles in his shoulders and back grow loose once more, he hestitantly takes the container from your hands. Looking at it then looking back at you, "Thanks."

You two share a few seconds of awkward silence, you felt a little exposed. You decided to unmask for this because you wanted him to feel more comfortable talking to you rather than who you were as a Spider-person yet there's still that same awkwardness in the air.

Clearly without nothing to do and no idea on how to makem something better out of this, Miguel's about to walk off before you stop him once more.

"W— wait," A little piece of yourself dies inside as you hear yourself stutter but nevertheless, you keep going. "Uh, there aren't any other spots so is it alright if I sit you? I don't know any of the people here."

The way that you see the eyes through his masks narrow ever so slightly once the question escapes your throat makes your heart quiver like crazy.

You wanted to get to know him but damn, if you said that he didn't scare you sometimes then you would be lying.

You cry on the inside with sweet victory as he says...

"Fine."

That was it. That was all you got but you gladly take it! You have to catch up to him though because once you're done mentally celebrating, he's already a little bit far from you.

You try your hardest to keep your head straight but you can't help but look up and spare him one glance, the fact that you even had to look up at him really only emphasized your height difference with him.

Another factor that made you just a little bit more intimidated by him, his physique. You considered yourself to be of average height, you weren't the tallest person in the room but you were never the shortest as well. Just average.

The way he practically towered over you, his hand nearly being the size of your head. It made you feel something.

The moment that both of you have a seat, you take your opportunity.

"So, is there anything that you plan on doing after this?"

You get a little distracted once his mask comes off, he raises an eyebrow at you, crimson eyes that feel like they're looking straight into your soul. Though, side-tracked as he bites into the dough and meaty goodness of his empanada, with a shrug— he replies,

"Not really. Unless there's an anomaly I haven't heard of yet then I have no plans. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Was just curious is all." Why was this so hard?!

The conversation goes as what you expected. You'd ask a question every moment or so and he'd give you a short response before going back to his food. He wouldn't ask you anything back, wouldn't add any 'unnecessary' comments. Just bask in the silence.

You simply couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know how to express your interest in him without asking him more questions about himself which he seems to avoid trying to answer.

You couldn't ask him about his hobbies because he'll most likely say that he's too busy working to actually spend time gaining and branching out to different interests.

Dejectedly, you sigh. "I'm sorry for imposing— on your alone time, I mean." It was like everything that you wanted to say just kept spilling out of your mouth.

"I didn't want to eat with you at this hour because I pity you or— or I found you lonely or whatever. I just thought that whenever you weren't talking about work, we'd be able to get along."

You stand up from your seat, eyes mindlessly darting arounf the labels of the bag of 'Spider-O's' in your clutches.

"I'll, uhm, let you eat in peace now. Once again, I'm—"

"Wait."

Which ever brain cells died from that interaction certainly reignited now. "Sit back down," It comes off an order. An order you certainly obey.

"I wouldn't have actually said yes to you if I didn't want to talk." He starts. "I know a lot of people but it's not in the same way that you do. I know their names, their faces, their canon events. You know their feelings, their mindscapes, and their troubles—"

"—And those are the exact kinds of things that I can't comprehend most of the time. We understand people differently, is what I'm saying. I still have no idea why exactly you sought out me of all people but I will... try to gain this new perspective of things."

You want to tamp down the smile that creeps up on your lips as you hear those words but you can't. What he said, it all made sense now. You couldn't see the full picture still, but you were willing to find it—

"I understand. It's fine."

"So? Do you have plans after this?"

Together.

[kurokawaia]

❛ LET IT OUT ❜

Illumi Zoldyck X Fem!Reader

WC; 700+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; ANGST!! tears, crying, ooc illumi?

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Hiii, I read the illumi and wife reader fic you did and it was really good!! I was wondering if I could request an angst for illumi where he starts silently crying (probably ooc but I hc him as crying, even though there is no emotion on his face, when he feels too many emotions running through him ex. Grief, rage) but then reader would comfort him by pulling him into her lap and starts stroking his hair saying "it's alright" and "let it all out" and then his emotions starts bursting out like a waterfall and reader just comforts him through it all - @esrieddai

m.list | hxh m.list

You frowned as Illumi wasn't here with you, it should be the two of you together all the time because your married, right? But he isn't here. Well, Illumi was there, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere, Illumi is sitting very straight on the bed and staring at the wall in front of him. His expression was blank.

But he felt different tonight; he couldn't place this feeling. It tightened up on him real hard.

"Illumi?—uh," you called softly, stepping closer to him.

He didn't answer, his body seemed locked at every muscle when you called out. You reached out and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer a bit of comfort. You noticed his breath hitching when you touched his shoulder, and then your eyes widen when you see a tear fall from his eyes, then more.

It was the first time you'd ever seen him cry. And you just knew that finally everything was catching up with him.

You scooted around to sit beside him on the bed, drawing him into your lap and wrapping your arms protectively about his body. He didn't fight you one bit and his body was surprisingly limp as he leaned on you. Your fingers stroked his hair gently through the dark strands.

"It's all right," you said softly. "Let it all out.".

The only answer this time, however, was silence, though your heart cracked just a little at the hitch of breath. That's when Illumi collapsed into sobs, his previous quiet tears coming harder as his body shook, his face buried into your shoulder.

You pulled him closer into you, still stroking his hair as you murmured soft reassurances. "It's okay. I'm here. Let it all out."

His sobs grew louder, desperate, and with that, you could feel your own tears rise up within you in response. You rocked him softly, trying to comfort.

"Illumi," you whispered again, "you don't have to bear this alone."

He held tighter to you, cried harder, his tears soaking into your clothes. You ached with his pain as if it was your, you guess that's what it is like to love someone truely. Yet you stood. You held him through all this in a tight haven within your arms.

The minutes turned into hours as you sat there, soothing him with a silence that rang out. He cried slowly into sniffles, then nothing. His breathing had grown slower now, his body feeling lax against yours. "You're not alone, Illumi," you whispered out, your fingers still stroking through his hair. "I'm here for you. Always."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

i hope this was okay-

[jamimix]

Lipstick # 4 💄

Imagine your genshin S/O making you try on lipsticks of different colors and shades and then making you kiss them on their face to see if it suits them too.

Kazuha (For my bestie who is currently getting ready for their thesis defense):

Sadly for him, you don't like wearing lipsticks. Meaning, you don't have any on hand that he can test with. And he's not about to be wasteful by buying so many just to be not used again.

Fortunately, with the help of a friend who somehow got 20 spare lipsticks that were only used once by his own partner, he was determined to do this with you.

But first, he got to find a way to convince you.

--------------------------------------------------

Your Kazuha is drunk.

You looked at Venti blankly as he handed your boyfriend to you with a sheepish chuckle. Said boyfriend was quick to snuggle in your arms, preventing you from going after his friend.

"Well, he's all yours. Bye!" Venti didn't even give you a chance to scold him for getting your lightweight boyfriend drunk.

"My love..." Kazuha whined in your arms as you bring him inside, sitting him down on couch. Once you so so, he leans closer to your face, a whiff of sake greeting your nose, but it wasn't too strong as he probably got drunk from just a shot or two.

"I want kisses."

"Kisses?" You repeated, amused at how adorable he's being.

"Yes... here." He pointed at his cheek, hand swaying a bit.

You sighed, aware of how much of a simp you are for this man that you'd do it, before nodding. Leaning in, you tried to kiss him.

However, before your lips can touch his skin, he suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes like he's thinking. Well, as much as a drunk person can think.

"No... no wait." He gently pushes you away before drunkly reaching under the coffee table, almost falling off the couch if it weren't for your hand quickly moving to make sure he doesn't.

Kazuha muttered a quick thank you before handing you a box half filled with lipsticks.

"What is this for...?" He merely sends you a look that has you sighing in defeat. You eyed the contents of the box before hesitantly choosing one of the lipsticks, a red one that is almost as red as the streak on Kazuha's hair.

You applied it on your lips, a bit slowly since you're not used to putting one on.

When you looked back to Kazuha, you see him watching you with a loving gaze that made you a bit flustered. Even when he's drunk, he always seek to find his way to your heart.

As his drunk mind finally realized that you're done applying it, he eagerly leaned his face closer to you. His cheek looking like a blank canvas, ready to be painted.

"Please?" He whispers with pout, making your heart clench at his cuteness. You calmed your raging heart first before giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek, leaving a kiss mark once you pulled away.

"There. Now can you-"

"More. Please, love." ...You should've expected this. But how can you refuse?

Another kiss.

"More..."

And another.

"More..more..more..." You had to reapply the same lipstick when noticed that the next marks are not as vivid.

It wasn't long before Kazuha passed from his drunknes. Still, you made sure that every inch of his face and neck is covered with red lipstick. It suits him.

You only stopped when you realized that there wouldn't be any of the lipstick left if you keep this up.

When you rummaged through the box Kazuha gave you, you frowned. None of it are like the current one that you've used.

"... I should buy more of this." You mutter under your breath, ignoring all the others, wanting only this one lone lipstick.

--------------------------------------------------

After a few hours, Kazuha finally woke up, his head throbbing with hangover. You're not there with him, much to his confusion. But he's grateful for the water and hangover pills you left on the coffee table.

As he finished drinking the two, his eyes spots the box of lipstick, looking untouched, making a sad sigh leave his lips as he thought that he failed in his endeavour.

However, he spots his reflection on the mirror at the wall, immediately shaking off his distraught, hope blooming in his heart.

When he counted up the lipsticks, a grin grew on his face. He's quite happy to see at least one lipstick got approved.

Diluc is next on our list 👀

Once I'm done doing 3 more of this, I might go back and start updating my SAGAU again.

(Tagging you again for this, @neigesprincess!)

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Part two to the fwb series. Angst, mention of Eddie going down on Reader, payback. Eddie is still an ass. 18+ minors go away.

Part one

🖤

Eddie knew you'd be back. You always came back to him, so for the first week or so he didn't take your threat seriously.

Chrissy was back so he'd be fine. He didn't need you, not one bit.

Then it was two weeks that passed, soon turning to three weeks and there was a sliver of doubt inside him that you meant what you said this time.

He's growing restless, but no way is he making the first move. Why should he? You walked out on him, he made his feelings clear on your relationship many times so he didn't know why you didn't listen.

It wasn't his fault. So he was going to ignore this feeling of unrest, wasn't going to go begging for you to come back.

Chrissy being home isn't all it's cracked up to be either. He doesn't know why, he's just sick of the fights between them, growing tired of how hard it is for them to make this relationship work.

He didn't realise how much you took away the tension he felt all them time, tension over him and Chrissy and their deteriorating relationship.

But he was still stubborn that he didn't need you, him and Chrissy would get through this... Wouldn't they?

🖤

When he sees you out and about with Robin it's like a blow to his chest. He doesn't expect it, hasn't seen your in over a month.

Dustin is grinning at you, rushing to give you a hug which you return. Traitor. Eddie thinks annoyed as Dustin gushes to you.

You're super friendly. Well... at least you are to Dustin. In fact you barely acknowledge Eddie one it, nothing more than a cursory nod in his direction.

To say he's miffed is an understatement.

You however don't particularly care, you do however want Eddie to feel exactly how you've felt the last several months. You have a plan and you're anxious to get it underway...

🖤

When there's a knock on his door later that night Eddie is surprised to see it's you, considering your attitude earlier.

He knew you would be back, it's arrogance yes but he knows you, knows you would still want him.

You're in a dress that shows off your curves, every inch of you looks fucking incredible. He's missed your body, your amazing tits.

He feels himself grow hard immediately, doesn't even question when you walk forward and kiss him. Doesn't think you're here for any other reason than you couldn't be without him.

So yeah, he's a little bit smug and he leads you inside.

...

Your moans fill the air in Eddie's trailer as he goes down on you, taking his sweet time as you mewled in pleasure.

You were so wet for him, so responsive to his tongue and fingers, your hand gripping his hair as you come. Legs shaking, a blissful look on your face as you enjoy the orgasm that sweeps over you.

Then you surprise Eddie, you get up and fic your dress. Ignore Eddie's questioning look.

"Where are you going?'' you cock your head as you look at him, your smile sweet but with a cold edge.

"Oh Ed's, I'm doing what you do. Take my pleasure then leave" you say as you put your coat on.

"But... he splutters and you smirk, reapply your lipstick and blow him a kiss.

"You really think I'd just come crawling back to you huh? That you can fuck me around for months and I'd be okay with that" his mind blanks as you go to leave, he scrambles up before you can go.

"What the fuck? You fucking used me" he snaps and you stare cooly at him, unbothered.

"Sucks doesn't it?" you leave without a second glance back at him. Leave Eddie stunned. He was so sure you were back for good.

He was so fucking wrong.

❤️

[intuitive-revelations]

I've got a kind-of crack theory about Ruby's mother...

Back in The Church on Ruby Road, Ruby is invited onto Long Lost Family, a genealogy TV program hosted by Davina McCall, with the hope of finding some information about her bio family. Unfortunately, they come up with nothing.

[ID: 6 gifs showing Ruby and Davina McCall talking to each other on the phone from The Church on Ruby Road. Davina apologies to Ruby, who tries to hide her upset at the news.

DAVINA: "There is no trace of your mum or dad. I'm sorry. It happens sometimes." RUBY: "No, that's fine... Thanks but, um, could you keep looking?" DAVINA: "No, there's nothing more we can do. If your parents aren't on some kind of database, we can't find them." RUBY: "Ok, um... isn't that unusual though? There's not a single trace anywhere? I mean... in the whole wide world, my mother's never left a blood sample or anythin'?"]

Now obviously, I know tracking down family is hard and, especially for orphans and adopted children, there's no gurantee that you'll be able to get the information you need. But I do find it odd there's seemingly "no trace" of Ruby's parents.

The section where I go on an odd tangent about genealogy

Speaking as someone who isn't a genealogist, but does enjoy researching family history in what little spare time they have... in my experience, close DNA matches aren't that hard to find. Especially if you're of white european descent, as Ruby is (presumably).

(It's generally harder for other ethnicities, as most research resources are white english/american focused. I know this is especially tricky for people like african-americans, where many of one's ancestors may have been enslaved. I've personally also found it tricky with Jewish communities as historically many of them used patronymic names prior to the 1800s, plus you have to account for immigration name changes, pogroms etc.)

For example, as someone who is white, with a mix of various british, mainland european, and ashkenazi ancestors, I actually have thousands of DNA matches, just from an autosomal test on Ancestry alone, let alone something like an mtDNA, xDNA or yDNA test:

[ID: Edited screenshot showing maternal and paternal DNA matches on my AncestryDNA profile. There are 16279 maternal matches and 9745 paternal matches.]

Obviously, due to the way family trees work, most of these are distant matches, however it does include plenty of close ones too, which I've been able to trace to real records and identify relationships with. Personally, my matches even already include many 1st and 2nd cousins, albeit usually a one or two degrees removed, especially as the userbase tends to swing older on these websites. This includes a few people close enough for me to have already known them from family functions and shared annecdotes. Meanwhile, where I did have blank spots, from immigrations, estranged family members, early deaths etc, I've been able to fill in a lot of information.

So what does it mean that there's "no trace" of Ruby's family?

Deliberate or not?

The big question I've had since The Church on Ruby Road is: just how untraceable is Ruby's family?

On one hand, I feel like if this was real life and professional TV genealogists were helping you, you'd get a bit more information than a quick phone call saying they've got zilch. If they're sharing nothing... do they literally have nothing?

On the other hand, this also feels like a writing shortcut. We don't really need 3 hours of Davina McCall sat with Ruby at a computer breaking down every question and theory about possible family members. Ultimately, this was probably just a way to quickly get some major exposition out there, plus throw in a Christmas celebrity cameo for casual viewers. The fact they only talk about Ruby's "parents" being in a DNA database, and no-one else, doesn't give me a lot of faith in the care for accuracy RTD took with this plot point tbh.

Indeed Davina does say 'it happens sometimes', which could indicate it's not as extreme as having zero close relatives...

...but Ruby also asks if it's unusual for there to be no trace of anything, which Davina doesn't answer. If we're asking that question, it sounds like things really could have turned up that blank.

It may not be easy for orphans and adoptees to find family, but I assume it must be quite rare to have zero possible leads? Especially if you're a younger person, and thus may have a good number of people of the right generation to know/remember your family members still alive. Worst case scenario, I can imagine having some leads, only for someone to be uncontactable, or lack the information that would be useful. That being said, maybe I'm being too optimistic, as someone who had the priviledge of never having as much difficulty.

The weird sci-fi parallel (TW: incest (kinda), intersexism)

This is where we get to my theorising. Because in a science fiction context, and specifically a time-travel one, there is one quite famous short story that has a protagonist with zero family connections: '—All You Zombies—' by Robert A Heinlein.

(Fun fact: "All You Zombies" is also the name of a planned Class Ongoing story, once I get the time to resume that.)

You may also be familiar with the movie adaptation: 'Predestination'. It's also seemingly the inspiration for all sorts of similar stories, from 'The Man Who Folded Himself' to Red Dwarf and Futurama.

You might see where i'm going from that last one...

(Again disclaimer: if you seek it out, that this story may be quite triggering. It also was written in 1959. While it's actually somewhat respectable of a trans (kind-of, you'll see what I mean - I'll generally use the pronouns used in the text below) protagonist, it includes sexism, intersexism bordering on medical horror, and selfcest/incest.)

In 1963 (funnily enough), a lonely, orphaned 18 year old woman named Jane has a sexual encounter with a man in a park which ends up leaving her pregnant. When complications arise, the doctor discovers during a successful caesarian she's actually intersex, with a form of ovotesticular syndrome, with her immature, partially developed organs "a mess". He removes the now damaged womb, ovaries etc and, without consent, 'rearranged things so that [they] can develop properly as a man".

A few weeks later, the baby is stolen from the hospital by a man.

Despite all this tragedy, they do decide to complete their transition, restarting life as a man. He struggles to find work, but eventually finds himself making a living selling fake confession stories to magazines as "the Unmarried Mother".

Years later In a bar, he tells his story to a Bartender. After it all, the Bartender reveals he's actually a time agent and offers the chance to see his baby's father again. He drops him off in 1963 to find the man.

Meanwhile, in 1964, the Bartender steals a baby from a hospital, and drops her off at an orphanage in 1945.

The Bartender returns to the Unmarried Mother a month later in 1963, just in time to see him leaving a lonely young woman he met with in a park...

"Now you know who he is", the Bartender says, "—and after you think it over you’ll know who you are... and if you think hard enough, you’ll figure out who the baby is... and who I am.” He drops the Unmarried Mother off in 1983, where he can be recruited by the Temporal Bureau.

The Bartender, Jane, the Unmarried Mother, the kidnapper, the Father, and the Baby are revealed to all be one person, a family tree onto themself. The perfect time agent, causally disconnected from the rest of humanity and thus safe from Faction Paradox - if they are truly human at all (possibly explaining their biological bi-sexuality).

Thus, literally, having no relatives.

NO, OF COURSE I don't think this is what's up with Ruby!

But...

A lot of people have suggested that the woman who drops off Ruby could be herself. Obviously this doesn't necessarily mean Ruby is her own mother - let alone her own intersex father, child, and recruiter too!

But the story did come to my mind watching the Christmas special, and I do think the less squicky side of it, the 'perfect time agent' angle is worth considering. Could Ruby really be causally/genetically disconnected from the rest of humanity? Could she literally have no close relatives?

Assuming her DNA is not taken from any other person, but some semi-random mix of genes, she really may not match with anyone. At most, she would have some distant false matches, who share very small portions of DNA with her just by statistical fluke.

"BUT", I hear you say, "Didn't she get rewritten by the literal butterfly effect in episode one? She must be connected to humanity!"

Yes she did. But you know else happened?

She was still there.

Seriously think about it. Time travel fiction often doesn't think about the full consequences of time being altered even slightly, especially for a gag, but think about it literally. If all of human history was changed and a whole new species, possibly descended from Silurians, became dominant on the planet...

... why would the Doctor still happen to be travelling with someone with a name beginning with 'Rub-' who looks like Millie Gibson? Remember her name comes from Ruby Road... so does 'Ruby Road' exist on Rubathon's Earth? The Church presumably doesn't, unless there's a lizard Jesus...

At the very least we can point to the Web of Time being particularly reinforced around Ruby for some reason, even after all the damage it's taken between Flux and now, letting Ruby persist into the new timeline. This is explicitly confirmed in the last episode, with the Doctor calling it a fixed point.

At worst, it may imply whatever 'designed' Ruby just needs her to meet the Doctor, no matter what the dominant species on Earth is.

Mind you, both of these do open questions about what happened in the timeline where Ruby was eaten by the Goblin King. Maybe targetting her after her birth left her temporally vulnerable? Or maybe it was a necessary event, to bring the Doctor to Ruby Road...

Add this to some other things we've seen this season:

In Space Babies, we're introduced to the concept of 'baby farms', allowing people to be loomed born without a parent.

We also know, at least, that Ruby registers as human to the TARDIS (though given Sutekh's influence, who knows how trustworthy that scan was now!).

In The Devil's Chord, Ruby is not erased by Maestro destroying humanity. Granted we can put this down to the Doctor/TARDIS, and how time travel effects people's biodata, but I think it could be a misdirect.

(Interestingly there was a very similar plotpoint in "City of the Daleks", the Eleventh Doctor adventure game, which saw the New Dalek Paradigm invading Earth in...1963. Unlike Ruby, Amy eventually actually does start to fade, needing a 'chronon blocker' to stabilise her. Hey remember how we just heard the word 'chronon' used a bunch in the show.)

In Boom, the Ambulance is entirely unable to find a next of kin for Ruby, despite seemingly having her in its records. This is a little hard to dissect, as you could take a lot of different interpretations away from it. At the very least, it suggests Ruby doesn't have any living descendents in the 51st century. Carla probably doesn't either (which makes sense with her not having any bio-kids, and Ruby seemingly being the only child she fully adopted rather than fostered?) But for its extensive records, it's notable it still couldn't find anyone after that, even presumably with access to Ruby's DNA like the genealogists had.

Everything in 73 Yards.

Between the snow falling in each episode, plus context in The Legend of Ruby Sunday, we know that Christmas Eve on Ruby Road, while fixed, is also uniquely vulnerable and 'raw'. With the woman's changing reactions to the Doctor, it's also flexible enough to change, somewhat.

Similarly, the possible connection between the woman who dropped Ruby off and the woman in 73 Yards, between her face not being visible and the CCTV camera being around 73 yards / 66.6 metres away. And if that woman really was Ruby, then maybe the parallels to All You Zombies may not be as insane as they sound.

[jenomov]

nurse’s office (l.jn)

wc: 2k

the office was cold.

there was never anything comforting about doctor offices. with sick people either coughing or sneezing, it bothered jeno to death.

actually, he had every reason to leave considering there was nothing wrong with him.

after his dance practice with jaemin, the pink haired boy wanted him to go and get checked out just in case there was anything wrong. he never spoke up about something like that. it was strange, but jeno caught on quite quickly when he saw haechan talking to the buffoon around the corner, with hushed voices. jeno had heard his name brought up, and began the trek to the nearest doctor's office. he knew if he hadn't, he wasn't going to be left alone by either of the two because neither knew how to mind their own business.

he had to admit, however, there was something peculiar going on in his wrist that he had no issues in getting checked out. so, there he sat; awaiting for his name to be called.

he'd made sure to sit close to the door that he needed to go through once his name was called. he didn't want to walk by all the people that were actually sick, believing if he had, he would've caught something himself.

no one wanted to see a sick jeno.

with his phone in one hand, he scrolled through his instagram feed, bored out of his mind. the only noise that filled up the quiet room was the constant typing on the computer the nurses did, light chatter from a couple a few rows away from him, aside from several coughs from other patients.

a vein forced its way across his forehead when he sees a post of a certain colored haired prick. it was a picture of the two of them at the dance practice, in the hallways, walking together. jeno was clearly not paying attention to jaemin at all, and hadn't known about the picture whilst the blank expression in the image.

"annoying," he muttered, and almost commented a colorful comment underneath the post when he heard his name get called.

"Lee Jeno?"

he looked up with a half annoyed look in them taking so long to see him, and nodded. "hi. yes."

"i’m very sorry for calling for you so late," you said with a light chuckle, ushering him through the door and letting him follow you down the hallway. "we've been quite busy today."

jeno was going to reply with something dry in false understanding when he noticed the height difference. he wasn't as tall as jisung, his other friend, but he stood at a height good enough to make you look smaller than you really were. he didn't miss the curves of your hips and supple breasts that all tried their best to stay confined in your tight nurse's dress.

as he followed into what looked to be the room he was going to be in, he mentally berated himself for falling as low as thinking provocatively about a complete stranger. he made a mental note to do better at distancing himself from haechan since that was who he was sure was trying to rub off on him.

"you can sit anywhere you'd like. i’ll just check your basics, put it all down in the computer and the doctor will be in so that you can ask all of the questions you need to. now,—" you took the stethoscope from around your neck, and placed the cold metal piece over his heart. "can you breathe in for me? then breathe out slowly."

"of course."

he let you check everything you needed, and was patient when you put all of the information in a file for him. as he waited for you to be done, he drummed his fingers against the cheap hospital bed, eyes roaming along the room, scanning anything he could see. he noted how bland everything looked. it wasn't stimulating at all so he went back to watching you and his breath hitched.

you were squatting as you were finishing up typing the necessary information, resting your body weight on your toes. jeno noticed that there wasn't a chair or anything for you to sit on, and almost thanked the heavens for such an inconvenience (for you).

he was able to see the outline of the pink panties that you had on, and had to readjust the way he was sitting to keep from growing an erection at the sight like some schoolboy. it already annoyed him that you were dressed in such a manner for a nurse's line of work, but he was more put off that he kept ogling you even when he felt bad for doing so. you were just so...

"did you hear me?"

"sorry?"

you giggled. "i said you're all set. the doctor will be in shortly to discuss things further with you. it was nice meeting you, Mr. Lee. have a good one!"

it was a mystery to what had made jeno genuinely speak up in stopping you from leaving the room. when you stopped to hear him out, there was a clear blush to his cheeks (and ears) as he racked his brain on what he was going to say to you. there was nothing else you needed to do for him. what was he supposed to say?

"uh..." he used his index finger to scratch at his temple as he said the first thing that came to mind. "could you check my wrist? it’s been giving me strange shoots of pain for a good while.."

you blinked, and shuffled on your feet as you thought about it. you tilted your head a little with a tiny smile. "well, it's a good thing a doctor will be seeing you, yes?"

jeno felt like he was out of things to say at that point. you were right. you were only a nurse after all. perhaps you weren't qualified to do what he was wanting you to. maybe you had other patients waiting on you to check on. it was quite selfish to keep you in the room with him.

"yes...i apologize. i can wait. thank you."

you visibly pouted, and his calculating eyes caught it before you blanked your expression. "um...well..." you took a peek out into the hallway and found it empty. what if you weren't needed? the doctor you were going to get for jeno was still busy with another patient whom had been having a few asthma attacks so the kid would need a new prescription and some other things...so what was the harm in staying with the beautiful man a bit longer? plus, his poor wrist was hurting him. it couldn't hurt to just go and take a small look at it...would it?

you closed the door, and sent him a warm smile. "let's check out that hand, shall we?"

————

"oh i see… wow, i can quite literally feel the tension in your hand here... how long has it been this way, sir?"

jeno found it incredibly difficult to remember your question with you caressing his hand the way you were and how you referred to him as 'sir’. it gave him a sense of power over you, like his height did. your voice was also a bit soft. everything about you was hard to ignore. he was beginning to feel less and less ashamed by his thoughts with you by the minute. he cleared his throat before answering, "not long. it's not painful but it’s bothersome, if nothing else."

it was also the way you were a bit nestled between his thighs as you checked him out. your cute body in front of him in nothing but a tight, flimsy white dress; your breasts ready to burst out of it. your pretty lips in a pout and your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you studied his hand that he had noticed was a lot bigger compared to yours. another physical difference that he liked very much.

"i see. would you want medication for the slight pain? or is that not necessary?" you asked him, letting his hand go that dropped back into his lap. you already missed the warmth that it provided you. jeno shook his head. "no need. i don't take medication."

"oh?"

"yeah.”

"i see."

the room was silent for a moment, and unbeknownst to either of you, it was filled with sexual tension that emitted from the both of you. he wanted to touch you, and you wanted him to touch you. it was just against everything your job stood for, and you were terrified of getting caught. he was above doing something so out of character, and refused to make such a bold move. it was up to you.

"um...are you...maybe...hurting somewhere else as well? that i should check out?"

the way your eyes peered up at him as you waited for him to answer made his cock twitch painfully against his slacks. he had never wanted to fuck a complete stranger senseless so bad in his entire life until in that moment, looking at you. so oblivious, so innocent, so cute... like a pretty fawn in front of a hungry lion, ready to devour it whole. you whole.

he cleared his throat, and hummed. "since you asked..." he moved his legs further apart, his eyes on you like a hawk. his eyes darkened as he stared you down. "—there is a place that needs immediate attention. will you take care of it... nurse?"

your breathing picked up as you watched him rub a hand down his thigh, taunting you. as nervous as you were, you had the courage to squat down in front of him, between his legs. you kept your eyes on his, and licked your lips. you knew what he was asking of you. there wasn't an unsure part in you. you wanted this. wanted him. even if you got caught and lost your job. it would've been worth it for a man as beautiful as him.

"yes, sir."

"such an obedient girl. just as i imagined."

jeno plucked the pins that were holding your hair up in a neat bun, out and watched your pretty tresses fall across your shoulders. he ran a hand through your hair, and gripped it at the root. "what do you think you'll get if you do a good job?"

you gulped. "a k-kiss?"

he chuckled. "stupid slut,— he grabbed your jaw, the action made your eyes water, but you loved it. “—you'll have the pleasure of my cum running down your throat. that's rewarding enough, don't you think?" you nodded, wanting to take anything he was willing to give you.

the hand in your hair tugged your head back roughly, making you gasp. he frowned. "why haven't you started? what are you waiting for?"


"i..i th-thought-"

"for a nurse, you sure are a dumb one. get started or someone will catch you in a very compromising position here." there was a hint of amusement in his voice that made your nipples hardened. God, was he turning you on.

"y-yes sir."

you unzipped him, and he let you pull his cock past his boxers and into the cool air. you had him in your hand, and felt how heavy he was. he was big, huge even. had girth and length, which still managed to surprise you as it twitched in your grasp. you let out a puff of hot air, taking him in. he wasn't hairy, but he wasn't clean shaven. neat, which made perfect sense. it matched his personality. you traced your polished finger on the vein near his tip, making him groan. heat rushed to your face when you felt fingers brush against the underside of your clothed breast.

"i won't ask you to take it off, but i do want to see you." he wasn't specific, but you weren't dumb. you knew what he wanted.

"y-yes." you quickly unfastened the buttons to the front of your dress, and let your breasts spill out, the dress halfway buttoned underneath your boobs, holding them against their weight. "is this what you want, sir?" his eyes ate up the sight, hungrily.

"good girl, now suck me off like the good slut you are will ya?”

© jenomov do not repost/translate

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch11 A Husband...Some Wives???

(Warnings:   Rengoku cursing and semi threatening Akira, mentions of the mers mistreatment,etc.

Y'all simps are going to eat with this one. Apologies for the short chapter. This is a sorta filter before the real meaty chapters ahead.)

taglist: @six-eyed-samurai @lavenderdrxp @jjamsbangtan @camilo-uwu @hopefulworld1

@shadyd3ar @amypop122

Remember if you wanna be added to the tag list lemme know.

The silence was deafening as you were in the middle of being held up by Rengoku. Warmth enveloped every part of your body and fireworks of fluster lit up in your mind. The image of the man lifting you bridal style into his arms and pressed against the upper part of his bare, toned chest and facing up into the fiery eyes just inches away from your own. The smile both handsome as it was happy and loving for whomever it was aimed at.

Amongst the fireworks was a blank white sheet blocking out and rationality shoving at the wall and screeching out to the mind closed off to it. However the mind's focus was thinking about other things. Like how nice the body was leaning against you. How soft the hands were that held your face. How handsome the face suddenly was. How gentle the arms were holding you. How warm the lips were pressed back into yours. 

Rengoku hummed as he once again dove down dipping the woman in his hold and pressed into a passionate kiss you've only seen other couples do and read in romance novels. The same kind of passion that he'd shown his other three wives. Only now he's satisfying an itch he's been feeling for the past half month. He had no idea he could fall for another so much but he couldn't help it. The heart thudding in his chest whenever she would be so loving towards him, but what really made him fall for her was the way she interacted with his wives. The way you'd coo at and comfort Suma's emotional outburst as she'd cry into your shoulder. The way you'd look at Makio and all it took was one understanding sentence to quench her moody behavior. How you'd actually be vulnerable to Hinatsuru and allowed her to comfort your current stressful state. You got a long so well with them...It was like you were one of their own already. And you had gotten along so well with him despite knowing him you always smiled at him. Always smiled at him. Always laughed whenever he tried to cheer you up. It was destiny. 

He almost all but forgot about the uninvited spectator in the doorway until he happened to open his eyes again and see the shocked man still frozen solid in the doorway. An immediate  wave of rage filled his body. This man and his sickening blood was responsible for taking away his wives and his family being torn apart. Responsible for all of the misery and mistreatment they suffered. Responsible for his husband crying tears and nearly tearing his own scales out from worry and fear every night they were gone. And now he dare come back here and face him while begging for you- His wife and the reason any of them are still alive!! To abandoned them and run away together like some stupid love unrealistic love ending from some fairytale! No!...Oh no no no. Not again. He already lost his wives once and gained you. He wasn't about to lose any again so easily a second time. 

A hiss escaped his throat and if his face wasn't angled slightly down, Akira would've seen the large inhuman fangs stuck in his maw. "L E A V E." A snarl enraged and flowing full with a fearful edge pushed out of his chest."Get out of my sight and don't come back. You're not welcome here."

Akira shook. Lip trembling as he stared at the shocked woman who seemed somewhere between shock and absolute whiplash. "Y-You have no R-Right! Wha-What man do you think you are?!"

As if reliving a scene right out of the most scary ghost story. As the blonde head of fire shot back and laughed out. A loud sinister laugh that was condescending and rude and mocking, yet it was boisterous and happy. A scarily terrifying indeed. 

"More of a man than you are! You're a mere boy compared to even a child. No woman would lower their standards enough to do anything with you! You really think my wife would leave me alone for an immature little narcissistic minnow pretending to be a shark when you're far from being the biggest fish in the pond? No. You are nothing. Even compared to the ground you walk on you are nothing. Nothing but a clingy barnacle who is never going to change even if it'll mean becoming a better person. You're greedy, obsessive, and probably would only treat her like another toy until you're bored easily again and seek your own amusement somewhere else..No. No no no. You're not claiming that here. Now leave this sanctuary you only stain and don't let the door hit you on the way out...Or please do. It might knock some sense and decency into your stupidly thick head."

The eyes molded and melted with malice and hate not letting up on the other..Until like a scared prey, he backed up and left . Rengoku's head followed the sounds of the footsteps as they echoed throughout the hallway until eventually the sounds of a door opening and closing sounded off making the merman sigh. 

That was a close one. If that man had come any closer, his true identity would've been exposed or worse. He could've seen his wives hiding under the water. Then they all would've been in big trouble. Eventually there was a shift in water as Hinatsuru poked her head slowly out of the water right by his hip. 

"Is he gone?," she asked barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer right away still listening to the silence before nodding. "Yes. Yes he's gone. Good riddance."

She sighed in relief rising further out of the water leaning on the edge just as the other two poked their heads out. "Oh thank goodness. I was terrified just hearing his voice again." Her hand pressed against her chest. "My heart is still pounding in my chest I was so worried." 

The tension in his body melted upon hearing her tone. Looking at them, all three looked genuinely horrified by what just happened. The fear was truly real and deep for them. But he wouldn't let them be scared again. No no no no. He'd never allow any of his wives to be hurt again but the only way to ensure that they were was for them all to leave this place. And the only one who could make that happen was currently in his arms frozen-.....OH GODS!! Y/N!! HE'D COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT HER!!

"Y/N!" He jumped mentally cursing himself for forgetting and looked to the frozen, red faced, wide eyed woman in his arms. "Ms. L/n?" He jostled her a bit. "A-Are you alright?!"

You continued to stare at the ceiling. "...M' good." You squeaked out as meak as a spooked mouse. 

Rengoku stared at you- Before a flurry of more giggles behind him made him jolt. Despite their earlier fear, they couldn't help but giggle at them again. Making him snap to them red faced and frowning.

"N-N-Now you three s-stop that!," he barked out flustered. "I-I was merely saving her like she did me!"

"With a kiss?," Makio asked with a raised brow.

"It was an act to fool him! Besides, s-she also saved me with her medical kissing!"

"I-IT WASN'T A KISS!!" 

You finally found your voice amongst the blank scene until your mind finally answered and you went full red face blushing. All that was going through your head was you got kissed by a handsome merman, you got kissed by a handsome merman, you got kissed by a handsome merman over and over again! The shock of your sudden shout caused all four of them to jump and Rengoku quickly laid you back down onto the floor. You were quick to scoot away from him and sit up. And then the five of you all just sorta say there staring at one another for a long while until eventually you reached out to touch your mouth and look at Rengoku again.

".....Did you just kiss me?!"

"YES!!," he shouted proudly despite his heavily blushing face and crossed his arms. "You saved my life and so I figured I'd return the favor! It was the very least I could do after you've been doing so much for us!"

"Why kiss me then?!," you shouted flustered. He didn't have to kiss you! Why'd he kiss you?!

"My first thought to make him go away was to pretend to be your spouse and it worked! The kisses were so he actually thought we were together!"

"You didn't have to kiss me?!"

He hummed blinking, losing his smile, and tilting his head. "Oh? Was that wrong? Or was I a bad kisser? We can redo it again it you were displeased-"

"NO!!" You held up your head shouting and feeling your face burn red. The girls giggled at you both as you held up your hands. "THE KISSES WEREN'T THE PROBLEM!!"

"So you did enjoy them!" He lit up again. "Good! I aim to please!"

"YOU'RE GETTING OFF TOPIC!! I NEVER EVEN KISSED ANYONE BEFORE!! A- AND THIS WAS TOO MUCH-"

"So I was your first kiss and it was good? EXCELLENT! IM GLAD ALL MY WIVES ARE PLEASED!!"

"W-WIFE?! I NEVER-...YOU DIDN'T-...I MEAN-...." Your flustered face slapped into your hands. "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"  Your slightly muffled scream bounced off the walls and they all looked pleased at their handy work. ...Wait a minute. You peeked between your fingers and stared at them. "Wait...Did you say wives? We're not married?!"

Again he tilted his head confused. "We're not? I thought it was obvious that the ceremony was completed as soon as we kissed."

"OH! I get it!" Suma shot up a hand. "It's not official yet because we haven't kissed her yet."

Kyojuro lit up once more. "You're absolutely right, Suma! How could we have forgotten something so simple. She's not married until we all initiate her in!"

You stared blank trying to process what was happening. "What?"

"ME NEXT!"

"HEY!" Makio shouted as Suma clumsily shoved her aside and practically crashed through the others just to get through.

You weren't sure what was happening. One moment Suma was pulling herself up onto the edge of the tub, the next she was grabbing your cheeks and kissing you making you go wide eyed again as she did it with an overdramatic 'MWAH' sound that got Makio growling from annoyance.

"Ok! That's long enough for you! Scoot over, Kelpbrain!" Suma squeaked and then whined when Makio roughly grabbed her by the back of her dress and yanked her back before taking her place. You didn't even have time to recover before you were kissed yet again by the yellow banged mermaid.

"NOT FAIR!! KYOJURO GOT TO KISS HER TWICE!!," Suma whined pulling on Makio's arm as she kissed your blank mind and looked at Kyojuro. "KYOOOOO!! MAKE HER SHARE!!"

He chuckled at them. "Now, Suma. Hinatsuru hasn't even gotten a chance to kiss her yet. Let us all love her equally as good wives and husbands should!"

Makio left. You stared at the wall ahead. "....EH?!" 

You STILL did not get a chance to recover from anything as two hands gently turned your head and you briefly saw Hinatsuru smiling at you before you were once again kissed. Albeit a lot more gentle compared to the three others. Taking the moment Kyojuro slid one of the many rings decorating his fingers off, a gold one with a bright green emerald, and reached out. Your left hand was taken from the floor limply and with ease the ring slipped on perfectly over your ring finger just as Hinatsuru back away smiling so happily at you.

"There now. So beautiful and perfect for us." He cooed happily rubbing a thumb over the jewel and your hand. "We'll have to get you to meet Tengen to actually get things settled, but I'm sure he'll love you as soon as he sees you. Mrs. Uzui."

You could only stare. The weight on your hand feeling heavy as Suma pulled you into a side hug and the others looked so happy with themselves. "...HUH?!"