#Part Two

[jordeynnotgordon]

Oooooooo

in conjunction with a previous art piece-

ten quid well spent

[sunclownsblog]

Because my last post about this didn't get much traction, I'll say it in a text post.

There is an upcoming global strike for Palestine. February 18th to the 25th. Talk about Palestine and other injustices, call your representatives and email them, boycott companies and limit spending during the week. Get your grocery shopping in now and only buy essentials during the week, please. Limit interaction on posts other than injustices around the world. If you can, skip work or school, though this is a privilege not everyone has.

Edit: It is 18th-25th not 18th-24th!! If you've already reblogged this, please reblog this version instead, edits don't show on past reblogs

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

part one

“so how was your first day?” robin asks steve as he slides onto the barstool next to her and chrissy.

“it actually wasn’t that bad,” steve shrugs before taking a long pull from the freshly opened bottle the bartender slides his way.

“it wasn’t that bad?” chrissy asks, incredulous. “so he didn’t make you go to the erewhon all the way across town? the one he goes to because selena gomez was seen there once?”

“that’s why he made me go there?”

“yeah, he really likes that one movie she’s in.”

steve thinks for a moment. “the dead don’t die?”

“no, the one with the dancing,” chrissy snorts.

steve makes a face and then shrugs again. “i made him his breakfast, i drove him around, i organized his tshirt closet… pretty standard stuff for an assistant.”

“you organized his tshirt closet? what the fuck does that even mean?” robin asks, laughing.

“exactly what it sounds like,” steve grins at her. “anyway, really, it wasn’t that bad. sure, he’s insufferable but not anything i couldn’t handle. don’t worry about it.”

“well, thanks for doing this,” chrissy says. “vickie handled it for a while, but i guess once you’ve been fired twelve times in the course of six months, you have to draw a boundary with the thirteenth.”

“it’s really not a big deal, it’s not like i’m doing it for free,” steve responds. “the money is more than worth it.”

“still, i know how he can be. but he’s really not so bad. once he’s… comfortable.” chrissy frowns.

“whatever,” steve shrugs for a third time. “i’m just here for the cash.” he winks and gives her a reassuring smile.

~*~

the next morning, steve pulls up to eddie’s huge beverly hills mansion bright and early, just as he had yesterday. he punches in the gate code, waves to the security guy on duty, and makes his way inside to the kitchen.

eddie storms in while steve is halfway through cooking another omelette, this time with tomatoes and onions and freshly grated cheddar cheese.

“i don’t care, wheeler, i’m not making a fucking appearance and i’m definitely not doing it with him,” eddie snarls into the phone pressed to his face. he hasn’t seemed to notice that steve’s in his house again.

eddie waits for whoever it is on the phone to speak before he says, “well maybe i don’t want to fix it. maybe this is it,” and then hangs up the phone. he lets out a frustrated little scream before he turns to leave the kitchen, finally noticing steve by the stove. “you’re back,” he says, voice monotone.

“i’m back,” steve smiles, sliding the plate full of food across the large island toward him. eddie looks down at it like he’s surprised. “eat,” steve tells him.

“another sweater vest?” eddie sneers instead of picking up his fork.

“i like them,” steve shrugs, still smiling.

eddie rolls his eyes. “whatever,” he mutters and then picks up the plate and retreats from the kitchen.

~*~

eddie is deeply annoyed by how good steve’s omelettes are. he practically licks the plate clean when he’s finished, which only serves to make his bad mood worse.

“can i take your plate?” steve asks from the doorway of the living room.

“jesus christ, man, wear a fucking bell,” eddie grumbles before holding out the plate, forcing steve to walk across the room to the couch and take it from him.

“i’ll remember to announce myself from now on,” steve replies. “chrissy just called; you have another meeting with the pr team this afternoon. we’ll leave here in about an hour.”

eddie doesn’t respond and steve goes quietly back to the kitchen.

~*~

eddie tries to confuse steve with the directions to nancy’s office again, mostly just to annoy him since the car has a built in gps. steve ignores eddie, leaving him to play on his phone in the back seat. the windows are tinted dark, just how eddie likes it & it lulls him into a false sense of security to where he’s almost relaxed by the time they get to nancy’s office.

the meeting is a fucking drag. it’s just a rehashing of the morning’s phone call and eddie had already made himself perfectly clear. he’s not willing to fix anything. nancy and chrissy try to double-team him, begging him to think about the tour & the album roll-out & the rest of the band. the entertainment blogs are running wild with the rumors circulating about the other night and now they’re digging up shit that he wishes would stay buried.

“absolutely fucking not,” eddie spits out. “i refuse to be fucking cordial with that moron.”

“fine,” nancy says finally. “i guess we’re done here then.” she gets up from the head of the conference room table and leaves through the big glass doors and the rest of her team takes that as their cue to leave, too.

chrissy levels him with a look, waiting until the last intern has left the room before speaking.

“eddie, i know you’re pissed right now. trust me, i would be too,” she says, using that tone eddie always hates—the one that makes it sound like she’s trying to placate a rabid dog. “but the label has invested a lot of money into you and they need you to put in some work right now. take a minute, take a breath, and then we’ll talk again. but we need to respond; we can figure out what that looks like. i’ll talk to nance… maybe we don’t need a joint appearance. maybe you can just make a statement.”

eddie knows there are a ton of people relying on this tour & this upcoming album. he knows the band doesn’t deserve the hit from this. but what is there to even say? he’s just so fucking angry about it.

“fine. i’ll make an appearance. but i won’t, under any circumstances, be seen with him,” eddie tells her firmly. he slides his sunglasses back onto his face before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way over to the door. “just tell me when and where. and make sure nancy doesn’t make me sound like a fucking idiot.”

“great,” chrissy smiles so bright she looks like a teenager again. “i’ll talk to nancy. we’ll figure it out.”

any reassurance eddie feels is washed away by a renewed sense of annoyance when he sees steve waiting for him in the lobby, still wearing his pastel yellow sweater vest, drinking a purple smoothie from a straw and scrolling on his phone. he’s laughing at something on the screen and the sunlight comes through the huge front windows just right, making him glow golden, and eddie just feels something inside him twist unpleasantly.

steve looks up then to see eddie coming, but eddie breezes past him to the sidewalk. steve jumps up to follow, handing the valet their ticket. when the car finally pulls up, eddie says, “no liquids in the car,” before sliding into the back seat.

he sees steve shrug before smiling at the valet and handing him his half empty smoothie to dispose of and a tip.

the car ride home is silent. eddie practically leaps from the car before it’s even come to a stop when they pull into the driveway. there are packages on the table in the foyer, likely brought in by the security guy at the gate. “grab those,” eddie tells steve with a wave of his hand.

steve follows eddie into the kitchen, arms laden with paper bags and boxes. most of it, eddie knows, is free product and merch, stuff he never uses and mostly stuff he doesn’t even want. steve places the packages on the counter and watches as eddie sifts through them, clearly looking for something.

“do you want lunch?” steve asks. eddie ignores him, finally finding the package he’d ordered earlier today. he flings it across the kitchen island toward steve on the other side.

steve catches the package in his hands and arches an eyebrow.

“open it,” eddie tells him, nodding at paper wrapping. he opens the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and takes a long sip as he watches steve’s fingers tear at the brown paper.

once the package is open, steve huffs out a laugh, barely a breath, before holding up a bright pink cat collar with a tiny bell attached. he shakes it in the air, making the bell tinkle. the collar clearly will not fit him.

“fuck you, man,” steve says, still smiling.

“fuck you, too,” eddie says.

and then he leaves the kitchen.

[chancloud8]

SKZ Fake Texts - bf!skz x reader, PART 2

~ telling them you got/want a pet

part two: jisung, changbin, hyunjin, jeongin

read part one with felix, seungmin, bang chan and lee know here

disclaimer: please never get a pet without talking about it with your partner first haha paw divider by: @saradika-graphics a/n: I hope you liked this little silly series <3 taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeaonginsbaee

[couslie]

[raspberriesss]

As a sort of part 2 for your work about clingy Simon while reader is cooking, how about in kissing you neck while you chop veggies you accidentally slice your finger a little? Not deep but it is bleeding. How would he react? Love ya!!!

This is my first anon reply, so thank you for the idea! I decided to make this like an alternate ending to my last post, so I hope you enjoy! 💞

ೃ⁀➷ part 1

Ever since Simon came home from deployment he’s been clinging onto you constantly. “Missed you, lovie,” he’d tell you, trying to justify his constant hold on you. Sure, you thought it was cute, this big military man clinging onto you like some kind of koala; but his intentions weren’t always as innocent as they seemed.

•·················•·················••·················•·················••···············•

You decided to try and ignore his soft touches, beginning to mince up the rest of the garlic clove from earlier. His kisses only got more insistent, teeth nipping gently at your skin, his tongue soothing over the skin afterward. “Simon, I can’t,” you began, the knife dropping back down onto the cutting board, the sharp edge slicing the skin on the side of your finger accidentally.

“Shit,” you murmur out, wincing at the sting from the blade of the knife, blood leaking out from the small wound, a drop falling down onto the counter.

Simon’s head leans up from its place against your neck as he hears you wince, eyes darting down to the small wound on your finger. He pulls away from you, moving to stand closely beside you, grasping your wounded hand, eyes inspecting your finger. “Ain’t too bad, I’ll getcha cleaned up,” he said softly.

Blood didn’t have much of an effect on Simon, having seen great amounts of it in his line of work. He gently nudged you over to the sink, turning on the tap, running your bleeding finger under the stream of water. The water burned slightly as it rushed over your wound, brow furrowing ever so slightly at the unpleasant feeling.

“This is your fault, y’know, since you were distracting me,” you said with a huff, looking over at him. He let out a faint chuckle, a soft smile on his rugged face as he looked down at you. After a few quiet moments, he turned off the tap, drying off your hand with a paper towel, holding pressure against the wound on your finger.

“I’ll be cuttin’ stuff up for you for a while, sweets, don’t want ‘cha to hurt yourself again,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Simon, this is literally the only time I’ve ever nicked myself,” you said in protest, your other hand taking his place in holding pressure to the wound while he looked around for a band-aid in a nearby drawer.

He quickly found a box of them, taking one out, pushing the drawer closed with his hip. Peeling apart the paper to the band-aid, he spoke softly as he wrapped it around your finger, “I want to help though, y’know I love to be ‘round you.” You couldn’t help but smile at his words, nodding your head lightly in agreement. “TV’s fuckin’ boring me to death anyway,” he huffed out, eliciting a laugh from your lips.

[voidofthevoidmv]

Uh oh Fordsie, your parents are acting awfully strange… The second installment of the 3 Buck Stan AU and our six fingered munchkin comes into play. Wonder what will come of that lol… I have a good idea on what will come next in this series/au, although I’ll likely be slow to post due to procrastinating- yk how it is lol. But yeah… next segment will probably get back to Stan and Mx Lottie’s nonsense as we finally get into the swing of things. It’s gonna be great, trust.

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[rin-may-1103]

Badger Day Au (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"

Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"

Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.

The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.

A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.

But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.

Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?

About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.

Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.

"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.

"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?

"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."

They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.

Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"

"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.

but he couldn't.

Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.

(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)

If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.

Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.

It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.

after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.

so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.

Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.

Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.

"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.

Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.

Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)

"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.

Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."

pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."

Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."

Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.

Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."

passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."

tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.

"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.

"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.

Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."

"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.

"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."

"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.

Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."

"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.

"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?

Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.

"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."

"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?

Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.

"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."

Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.

"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"

"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.

"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"

sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."

"Oh," was the only response he got.

"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.

"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."

"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.

"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.

Next

[meelusinee]

WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND | M.R X READER

word count \ 1.8k | fluff and stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which you spend christmas with mattheo and his friends (part two to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

THIRD PART HERE - dancing in the rain ep

WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND | M.R X READER

It had been a long while since you and Mattheo had gotten together, a relationship full of notes and songs dedicated to you. You tried to keep everything you could in a small box, the widest smile on Mattheo’s face coming out when he saw the box for the first time.

Suffice to say that his appreciative kisses and cuddles kept you rather warm that night.

Over the course of your relationship, you had met Mattheo’s friends as well. It started indirectly, whenever they would barge into his dorm room and find you both cuddling. 

Theodore was the one you talked to the most. He was Mattheo’s best friend, and often teased him quite a bit about how much he loved you. Theo was the one who told you about the love letters that Mattheo made in the first place, which you shall forever be grateful for. 

Blaise and Draco were the friends that you often went to if you wanted to get on a cruise ship the next week, or whenever you wanted the best wine seller for a Slytherin party that weekend. And Enzo or Pansy were the friends you’d go to if you wanted all of that done illegally.

All in all, a rather good friend group.

Which led you to where you were going right now. A legal holiday adventure hosted by Draco at one of his vacation houses somewhere in the world. Mattheo and you decided to spend some time together driving to the place, which eventually led to Theo coming along. Theo invited Blaise to smoke with him. Blaise invited Draco to pay for road trip snacks. Draco invited Pansy because they were dating. And Pansy invited Enzo for reasons you still hadn’t been told yet.

That meant you had to take your family van.

You and Mattheo sat in the front, with Theo, Ezo  and Blaise in the middle. Pansy and Draco sat in the backseats, dining in on the couple time that you and Mattheo had been robbed of. Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Are we there yet?” Enzo whined, head leaning forward.

Maybe one change or two.

“No, we’re not.” Mattheo said, sighing softly as he continued driving forward. “I told you this five minutes ago.”

“Maybe the path changed within five minutes!” Enzo said to him. 

“Yeah, five minutes closer. Not an hour!” you said, chuckling softly as you squeezed Mattheo’s hand. 

“You two are mean.” Enzo pouted, turning to look at Blaise. “Right Blaise?”

“It’s deserved.” he said, flipping through the pages of his book. He recently got reading glasses that Draco and Enzo had teased him endlessly for. “Ow!”

“No kicking!” Pansy said, swatting Enzo’s head from the backseat.

“I say go full-in.” Theo said, which ensued an argument about the ethics of kicking someone whenever they don’t agree with your opinion. You and Mattheo turned to look at each other with soft sighs, similar to parents dealing with toddlers going to Disneyland.

“Can you all hush back there?” you said, the tiniest smirk present on your face as you started at Mattheo. “Your father is trying to drive, hey don’t hit me!”

“Hush.” he said, gently booping your nose.

“Are we there now?” Enzo asked as Mattheo pulled into the parking lot, gasping loudly at the sight of the cabin. “Woah.”

It was decorated to the most Christmas extent you could think of. Bushes covered in lights, icicle lights hanging from the roof, wreaths placed all over the place. There were bells on top of the mailbox that chimed when you passed by it, and a large and bright star at the tippy top of the roof. If you didn’t know where you were, you’d think you walked into a Christmas market hosted by Santa.

The seven of you walked out of the car, Draco walking through first as he inspected the house.

“My mother has a knack for Christmas,” he muttered, his feet making a rather large imprint in the snow. “I didn't think it was this big though.” 

“I bet the Christmas tree is so pretty.” Pansy squealed, running to the front door. “Open it!”

“Give me a moment, Pans!” he said, trying to figure out which key opened the front door from the ring his mother had given him. You and Mattheo stayed behind while the rest of them rushed forward, watching them rush inside once Draco got it open.

“It looks rather magical.” you whispered, giggling as a small snowflake fell on your nose.

“It really does.” Mattheo whispered softly, his eyes glued on you as he spoke. “The most magical thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re so sappy.” you smiled.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you. There were two puffer jackets separating your skin from his, but you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. “We should go on a walk.”

“We should!” you said, your boots making an indent on the snow as you both walked down the path. 

The path was even more magical than the house itself, you noticed, with Christmas trees lining the whole way down. It seemed that all of the trees within the field were swaddled in Christmas lights. Some were regular, some were colored, and others had ornaments or lights at the tip of them.

“This really is beautiful.” you whispered, gasping at the string lights and small candles that gently flew between the trees. How they didn’t get put out by the snow, you had no idea. “Wow.”

“You’re beautiful.” he whispered, chuckling softly as he kissed your forehead. “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you this whole time.” 

“Well, you better start.” you pouted, turning to him. “The trees are really pretty.”

Mattheo nodded, laughing as you grabbed his chin to direct him where to look. His eyes took in the snowed over area first, the lights on the trees after that. There was red, green, and blue lights bouncing together, along with the regularly colored lights that shined bright on the glittery ornaments.

“They are rather pretty, yes.” he whispered. “Though I feel like it’s quite a lot of color rather than just one.” 

“What really is Christmas if not to turn you blind with bright lights?” you asked, smiling as the both of you walked further down the path. 

“Okay everyone, gather around!” Mattheo said, a bass guitar in hand. The night was rising as the sun was setting, the firepit that Blaise and Enzo had made cracking through the burning wood.

“What are we doing?” Pansy asked, sitting down on one of the wooden logs. Mattheo sat down next to you as Draco sat down next to Pansy. Theo sat next to Mattheo purely to annoy him, while Blaise and Enzo sat on the other log.

“We’re going to sing the Jingle Bell Rock.” Mattheo said, setting the bass guitar on his knees as he began testing it. “Found this in the attic.”

“What on Earth are you doing in my attic?” Draco asked, a cup of wine in his hands.

“Hey, it was open!” Theo said, having assisted with the raid of the Christmas attic. “And we found a bunch of very interesting things.”

“Like what?” Enzo leaned forward with a smirk, before Blaise whacked him in the head. “Ow!”

“They’re just messing with Draco.” Blaise said. “There was only old cobwebs and his parents’ Hogwarts uniforms, nothing scandalous.”

“A shame though.” Theo muttered, lighting a joint before turning to Mattheo. “You gonna play?”

“Yup.” Mattheo said, his fingers running against the strings as he played the opening to the Jingle Bell Rock. 

You and Pansy giggled as the boys all joined together to sing the song, all completely out of tune. Pansy shared a glance with you as you both began to sing the back up vocals, all of you swaying in tune with the music. 

You went from the Jingle Bell Rock to Rockin Around the Christmas Tree. Mattheo and you sang Baby it’s Cold Outside while Theo and Enzo gagged, and Draco dramatically sang Frosty the Snowman with tears in his eyes. Enzo stood up dramatically, pausing the guitar as he began to sing a song about a grandma being run over by a reindeer.

“Okay, that’s enough weed for you,” Draco said, sitting Enzo back down. “We are not running grandmas over with reindeer.”

“Says you!” Theo cackled, crossing his legs. “I for one find the idea rather pleasant.” 

“Pleasant?” Pansy asked incredulously, shaking her head as she very quickly snatched Theo’s joint out of his hand. “That’s it, we’re cutting you off too.”

“My joint!” Theo yipped.

“Mattheo?” you called out, poking your head out of the door as you saw him sitting by the firepit.

“Yeah?” he asked, head lifting at the sound of your voice. You felt your face heating up at the smile that spread on his face, feeling it enough to heat you better than any fire could. “Hi there my love.”

“Everyone’s inside making hot chocolate before they go to bed.” you whispered, walking closer to him. Your hands found their way to the sides of his face, kissing the tip of his nose before you sat down next to him on the log. “Do you want some?”

“No, I’m good.” he whispered, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arm around you.

“You sure?” you whispered, wrapping both of your arms around his waist. “You feel rather cold out here. Your face is all red.”

“That’s because I’m staring at a really pretty girl.” he chuckled softly, kissing your lips ever so gently.

You giggled softly, placing your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him with the cutest expression he could ever think of. For him, you felt like epitome of Christmas. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” you said, nuzzling your nose against his playfully.

“No, I love you more.” he smiled softly at you.

“Not true.” you pouted, kissing his nose. “Because I love you so much more.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, chuckling softly. “Well I wrote you songs. So obviously, I love you more.”

“Yeah, well I saved them!” you pouted.

“You did save them.” he reasoned, nodding his head as he looked at the firepit. He put on a serious expression, pretending to truly ponder whether you loved him more or he loved you more. “Still think I love you more though.”

“That’s not fair.” you grumbled, burying your face against the crook of his neck. “It’s cold.”

“Why don’t we go inside then?” he asked gently, his fingertips caressing your shoulder. “You didn’t come out with your jacket, you must be freezing.”

“I am.” you whispered, standing up as he did. “Hot chocolate?”

Mattheo chuckled softly at your insistence, kissing your forehead once more before putting out the fire. “Anything for you.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

ITS HEREEEEE!!! i wanted to do a second part for mattheo and i thought that i might as well do christmas-themed since it's already blasting on the radio. i'm tryingggg to heal my christmas spirit that i have lost over the years, esp because i always thought it was just about that one mariah carey song since my sister would play it every. single. day. even during my birthday (i was born in june.)

BUT, as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

have a good day everyone!

[toonetowne]

previous next

part 2 :)

[fictionalmenxyn]

᯾𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬᯾

Pairing: dad!husband!rafe x mom!wife!reader

Pt.2 of honey, I’m home (as requested!)

Warnings: language, mentions of period and pregnancy

᯾᯾᯾

It’s been a couple weeks since Rafe had gotten home from his business trip for Cameron Development. Life has been amazing… up until the week that was supposed to be your period.

You are now five days late… this wasn’t like you. Even Rafe knew you had a regular period. He had the app for you, so he knew when to give you even more attention and loving. Which he does, this time only more.

You were currently over TannyHill. The kids wanted to go see their Aunt Sarah. So that’s exactly what you were up to now. You had bought pregnancy tests earlier that morning. Planning on doing them soon, just to be sure.

You and Rafe always wanted a big family. I mean, you can from one. And Rafe loved your family dearly, loving how they were practically like his siblings… even if it’s just through marriage. He loved them like his own.

You told Sarah, “hey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom, can you keep an eye on these?” Gesturing to the boys who were playing trucks in the grass of the backyard. She smiled and nodded “of course, you go do what you need to.”

You walked back into the house, going over to your bag. You pulled out the box and put them into your pocket.

After sometime, waiting for the sticks to work. You held up the first one. You took a deep breath. Oh. My. God… you’re pregnant… really?? Or is it just the first stick… you go to check the other one.. oh, this also says the same…

Oh my god…

You’re pregnant… actually pregnant… again!

You head back to the backyard, Sarah asked “everything, okay? You took a while…” Sarah joked “didn’t get lost did you?” Knowing full well that you knew TannyHill like the back of your hand.

You smiled softly “no… but this…” you handed her the pregnancy test.

This felt normal for you. Sarah was the first to know since she’d always go to the drug store with you to buy them. Also cause she was like a sister to you. Sis you don’t have sisters. Just brothers.

She gasped “no way?! Really!!” You nodded “but don’t go telling anyone outside of the family… it’s only been a week since I’ve been late of my period, okay?” She nodded.

Later that day, Ward and Rose knew. Rose knew because she just had that ‘feeling’ and Ward walked in when Rose gasped lot of excitement. Thinking something was wrong he went to go check, that’s when he was told.

It was now evening, Rafe would be coming home from Golf soon. You sat on the couch. The boys playing on the rug with their toys as you watch the tv.

You heard the door open and your favourite voice “hey baby?! You here?!” You called out “living room!”

You could hear him put his golf clubs bag down in the foyer. Then his footsteps getting closer.

He sat on the couch next to you. Spreading his legs comfortably, and purposefully touching his knee with yours. As he’s always done since you both had been together. After he fussed the three boys. He rested his arms on the backs of the couches. His index finger tracing patterns into your shoulder.

“So? How’ve you been all day? You had fun with the kids up TannyHill?” You smiled softly and nodded. Taking another bite of a grape before holding the bowl out to him. Silently offering. He smirked “only if you feed me one.” You playfully roll your eyes.

As you fed Rafe one grape. Cody called out “me! Me!” Rafe smirked “think someone else wants to be fed a grape, sweetheart…” you hold one out for Cody… then Morgan… Toby was still too young to eat a big grape. So you fed him a snack puff.

You put Morgan on your lap, as he wanted some cuddles from you. You reached into your pocket and placed the pregnancy test on his lap. Like it was the most casual thing ever. You thought of different was each time to surprise him. But the casualness of it would be more surprising.

He lifted it up and saw the two lines. “No way… seriously?!” You held your hand to your face. Trying not to cry, like every other time. His smile grew as he saw you nod.

Rafe spoke loudly “Babe! Now way!? Are you fucking kidding me?!” You spoke playfully yet sternly “Rafe! Language!” He nodded “oh yeah, my bad…” he took Morgan off of your lap. Which Morgan pouted at. Rafe told Morgan “you’ll get her back, let daddy give momma some love, buddy.”

Rafe pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you into a soft yet passionate kiss. When he pulled away, Rafe spoke “god, you’re just the best, love, god, I love you so much…” you replied “I love you too…”

Morgan sensed the happiness after watching you two kiss. He called his fists and lifted his arms and yelled “Yay! Momma!” You and Rafe both laugh.

Rafe told Morgan “Yes, bud! Yay momma!” Cody and Toby come over. Rafe held both of your wrists and moved your arms up and down as he playfully chanted “momma! Momma! Momma!”

The boys, practically being carbon copies of him, soon joined in. All four of your boys started chanting “momma! Momma! Momma!”

After tha chanting died down, Rafe smirked “you better give me a girl this time, baby…” you laughed “I’ll try my best…” he smirked “good…” he gave you another kiss. God, you were his woman, his wife, mother of his children… his world

᯾᯾᯾

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl [Part II]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.

Word count? Do you even need to ask?

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.

It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.

In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.

Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.

Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.

The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.

A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.

It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.

You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.

Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.

Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.

You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.

“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.

“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.

“Home sweet home.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.

Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.

A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.

Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.

Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.

You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.

Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.

“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.

“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.

Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”

You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.

“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”

He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.

You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”

Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.

You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.

Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.

You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”

Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.

His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.

“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”

You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.

Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.

“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.

You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.

“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.

“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”

A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.

“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.

You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”

“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”

Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.

A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”

Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.

“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”

He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”

Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.

“Then just kiss me again.”

What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.

“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.

You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.

He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.

“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.

Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”

Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.

Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.

Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.

“One kiss.” Price breathed.

“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.

That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.

Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.

Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.

Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.

Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”

You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.

Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.

“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.

“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.

You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.

“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.

When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.

You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.

Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.

A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”

Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.

“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.

You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.

Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.

“Atta girl, so good f’me.”

Oh.

You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.

He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.

A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.

It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.

You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.

When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.

“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”

You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.

Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”

You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.

Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.

He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.

You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.

After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.

You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.

“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.

Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.

This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.

“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”

Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”

Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”

It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”

You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.

“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.

He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”

You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.

After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.

Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.

Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.

For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.

The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.

Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.

You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.

Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.

Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.

“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.

“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”

You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.

Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”

Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.

From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.

You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.

“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.

The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?

Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.

He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.

You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”

Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”

You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.

The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”

Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.

Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.

“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”

You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.

Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.

“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.

“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.

Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.

In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.

The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.

You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.

And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.

“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.

You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.

The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.

You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.

“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.

You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.

He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”

You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”

Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.

“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.

“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.

Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.

He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.

You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.

You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.

“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??

He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”

Free of charge my ass.

The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.

You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”

Pound!’

Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.

His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”

Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.

You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.

“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.

The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.

Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.

Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.

Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.

You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.

He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!

“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.

Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.

“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.

“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.

You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”

You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.

“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.

Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”

You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.

Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.

He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.

“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.

You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.

“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.

“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.

Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”

Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.

It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.

“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.

“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.

The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.

Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.

You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.

Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.

“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.

He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.

After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.

Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.

“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.

You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.

Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.

Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’

The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”

Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.

“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.

You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.

You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”

A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”

You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.

Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.

You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.

Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.

The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.

Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.

You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.

Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.

Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.

Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.

You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.

“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.

“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”

His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”

That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.

Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.

Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.

Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’

Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.

“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.

Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”

You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.

Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.

“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.

You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.

“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”

Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.

Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.

It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.

You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.

A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.

His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.

Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.

Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.

“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.

He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.

Knock knock knock’

You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.

Knock knock knock!’

It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.

“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.

Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.

A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.

What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.

“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.

After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.

It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”

Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.

There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”

He looked back at you, “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.

The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.

It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.

Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.

[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.

You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.

If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.

You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.

It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.

“Took you long enough.”

You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.

“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”

Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.

“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.

His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.

“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.

“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.

Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”

You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.

“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.

“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.

“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.

He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.

“How come?” you asked simply.

He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”

You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.

Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.

“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.

Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.

You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”

Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”

You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.

Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”

Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”

Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.

Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”

Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.

“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.

He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.

Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.

“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.

Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.

And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.

What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.

Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.

And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.

Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.

You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.

All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)

Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???

It was Gaz.

You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.

Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.

Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.

He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.

You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.

Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.

You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.

“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.

You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.

Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.

He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.

You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.

You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.

Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.

You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”

Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.

He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.

“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.

Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”

You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”

He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”

Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.

“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)

Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”

You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”

Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”

He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.

You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”

Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.

He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.

Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”

You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.

“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”

You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.

“Okay, I'll think about it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.

However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.

In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.

You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.

The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.

You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.

He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”

You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”

Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.

“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.

While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.

Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”

Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”

You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”

Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”

For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.

For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.

After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.

Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.

You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.

You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.

Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.

To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.

“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”

Price.

The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”

You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”

There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.

You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.

Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.

“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.

You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.

Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.

You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”

There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”

Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”

This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.

“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”

Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.

You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.

Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.

“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.

There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.

Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.

Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).

Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.

You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”

Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.

Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”

Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.

He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.

“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.

His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.

Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.

Price was devouring you like a man starving.

Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.

It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.

You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.

Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.

Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.

“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.

That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.

You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.

“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.

John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.

“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.

And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.

The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.

You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.

“[Name].”

Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.

“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.

With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.

With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.

You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.

“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.

With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”

After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.

With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.

Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”

As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.

Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.

“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”

Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.

You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.

This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.

Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.

“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.

You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.

You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.

“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.

“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.

“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.

You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”

Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.

Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.

Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”

You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.

“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.

You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.

Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.

Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.

For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.

You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.

“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.

“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.

Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”

Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”

You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.

“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.

You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.

“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.

As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.

Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.

“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.

“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.

Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.

Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”

You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.

“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”

You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.

She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”

You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.

Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”

You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.

She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.

“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”

Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”

You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”

There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.

You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.

She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”

You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.

Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”

You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.

After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.

“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.

“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”

He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.

“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.

John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”

You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.

Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.

John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”

You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.

You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”

Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.

“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.

John smiled, “I love you too.”

Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

You were going to be just fine.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, don't go!

Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.

Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.

Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Taglist

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.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Thank you

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[moonlitsmile]

✧࿐𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝟐 ༘♡ ⋆｡˚❀

🝮𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧-𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫🝮

─────────౨ৎ──────────

꣑୧ — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐/𝟑 . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐧-𝐡𝐨 𝐢���� 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 reader 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫..

𝐚/𝐧🝮 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 😔 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈’𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬!

The familiar sound of classical-like music echoed through the speakers as morning arrived, signaling the start of another day. Some of the players were already awake, their movements faint and sluggish, but most remained sound asleep, lost in the brief respite of dreams. Her eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room as it brightened, the main lights turning on. A soft yawn escaped her lips as she stared up at the underside of the bunk above her. Still in this hellhole, she thought bitterly. But despite the grim reality of her situation, a small part of her remained curious—what would today’s game be? What kind of twisted trial awaited them?The music continued to play, its familiar melody filling the space. She had grown tired of hearing it every morning, but, strangely enough, it carried a sense of calm, almost soothing in its predictability. Rolling off the thin mattress beneath her, she let her feet hit the cold floor. The black metal frame of the bunk bed loomed above her as she rubbed her eyes. They still felt heavy, her body reluctant to wake fully.

“The third game will begin momentarily,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker system, cutting through the music. “All players, please get out of bed and get ready. Let me repeat…” The instructions droned on, but she barely listened, sighing softly instead. Around her, the others were beginning to stir, groaning and stretching as they reluctantly pulled themselves out of their beds. Her gaze, however, immediately sought out In-ho. As always, he was already awake, sitting silently on the black metal frame of an empty bunk, his posture calm and composed. She had never seen him sleep in. Did he even get tired like the rest of them? Or was he simply too restless to rest? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Her own eyes were still soft and sleepy as she yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand while the other reached up to rub the lingering drowsiness away. When her vision cleared, she noticed In-ho’s eyes on her. Startled, she froze for a moment. His gaze was gentler than she expected, almost warm in contrast to the cold and detached demeanor he usually carried. It caught her off guard. She hesitated, but then a small, shy smile tugged at her lips as she looked away nervously. Her hands instinctively went to her head, smoothing down her messy hair in a vain attempt to compose herself. She sighed quietly, trying to shake off the awkwardness of the moment. It was time to focus.

~

The doors of the large elevator slid open with a soft chime, revealing the vast room where their next game awaited. The woman’s voice, calm yet unnerving, echoed through the speaker system, pulling their attention forward. “Welcome to your next game. The game you will be playing is mingle.” Her voice lingered in the air as they hesitated. As the group began to step out of the elevator, her eyes darted around the room, scanning her surroundings. She walked hesitantly, trailing behind the others as they entered a large, dimly lit room. It was a peculiar space, dominated by a giant spinning platform in the center. Fifty differently colored doors lined the walls, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The platform itself resembled a carousel, but instead of horses or whimsical decorations, it was an unadorned spinning disk—a foreboding centerpiece for the task ahead.

Her breath caught slightly as she surveyed the room, nerves bubbling under the surface. Mingle. The name struck a chord. She had played something similar before, but she wasn’t confident in her skills. The memory of it only made her chest tighten further. Her hands fidgeted slightly as she tried to focus. Who wouldn’t be nervous in a situation like this? The stakes were far too high. She didn’t want to die. The woman’s voice cut through her thoughts again, crisp and unyielding. “Let me repeat, the game you will be playing is mingle.” The repetition didn’t soothe her; it only added to the weight in the air. Around her, the rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable. Some admired the room’s dim, elegant design, but beneath aesthetics lay the truth: the games were anything but beautiful.

“All players, please step onto the center platform," the woman’s voice instructed. The words hung in the air like a command that couldn’t be disobeyed. “When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size. Go into that room and close the door within thirty seconds.” The instructions seemed deceptively simple, but the reality of executing them in the heat of adrenaline and chaos was another matter entirely. Her stomach twisted as she imagined the chaos that was sure to unfold.

“Oh, this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging,” Jung-bae commented with a nervous laugh. The attempt at lightheartedness felt thin, but it broke the silence. “I’ve played before too,” she chimed in softly, her voice barely audible. “Yeah, except instead of hugging, we go into those rooms,” Dae-ho added, his tone carrying a mix of dread and resignation. Her gaze lingered on the platform’s dim lights and the odd pony-like figures scattered in the center, their presence oddly unsettling. In-ho’s eyes, however, remained fixed on her. He observed her closely, his expression unreadable. She had no idea who he truly was or the depth of his role in all of this. To her, he was just another participant. But to him, she was far more than that. He was a player in his own game, yet his thoughts were consumed with her safety. He was determined to protect her, no matter what.

“If the number is bigger than five, we’ll find the additional people we need.” Gi-hun said as glanced at everyone, trying to offer some semblance of leadership. Dae-ho frowned, his concern evident. “But what if it’s smaller than five? Like three or four?” The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. “No matter what happens, don’t panic. Let’s stay calm,” In-ho advised, his voice steady and reassuring. Her eyes instinctively flicked toward him, drawn by his calm demeanor. He seemed to carry an air of certainty, as if he already knew the outcome of the game. How could he remain so composed in a place like this? The thought lingered in her mind, distracting her momentarily. She shook her head, trying to refocus. She couldn’t afford to be distracted—not now. She had to survive. As the group began moving toward the platform, her steps felt heavier with each passing moment. The platform loomed ahead, its surface wide enough to accommodate all the players. She walked alongside In-ho, her presence near him both comforting and unsettling. Jung-bae flanked her other side, his expression tense. Once on the platform, everyone lined up in uneven rows, spreading out from the center to the edges. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her nerves. She sighed shakily, trying to steady herself, but the anxiety clawed at her composure. In-ho glanced down at her, noticing the slight tremor in her hands as she patted them against her thigh in an attempt to calm herself.

“It’s gonna be alright... don’t think about it too much,” he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. She glanced up at him, her soft eyes meeting his. A small nod was all she could muster as she whispered, “Okay.” Her gaze dropped back down to her feet, the stillness of the platform beneath them grounding her for a fleeting moment. “Let the game begin,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, breaking the fragile silence. Her breath hitched as the platform beneath them trembled, a faint vibration signaling the beginning of movement. Slowly, it started to spin. Gasps rippled through the group as the sudden motion caught many off guard. She stumbled slightly, the unexpected shift throwing her balance. Instinctively, her hand reached out, brushing against In-ho’s before gripping it firmly. She hadn’t meant to grab his hand—it was a force of habit. Her cheeks burned as she realized what she had done. Nervously, she glanced up at him, her face flushed.

In-ho looked down at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he held her hand, his touch steady and reassuring. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that he would keep her safe. For a moment, her fear subsided, replaced by the brief comfort of his presence. But the platform continued to spin, and the game had only just begun. The lights in the middle of the platform shut off, dimmer lights above them flickering as they turned on. She glanced up nervously, her breath uneven. She was still slightly jittery, her hands trembling as she tried to calm herself. The atmosphere was heavy, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, a children’s song began to play softly across the room, the whimsical melody contrasting eerily with the silence. “Round and round, let’s go in circles and dance,” sang the cheerful voice in the music, the lyrics echoing faintly. The platform beneath them began to spin, slow at first but gradually picking up speed. Everybody remained quiet, their gazes fixated on the room and the spinning platform, the only sound being the haunting children’s tune.

There were 255 players alive now. The number loomed in her mind, a reminder of how quickly the others had disappeared. A slight shake ran through the platform beneath them, causing ripples of unease among the participants. Without warning, the platform came to an abrupt halt, throwing some people off balance. reader stumbled, nearly losing her footing. In-ho’s hands darted out instinctively, gently steadying her before she could fall. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins quickly overshadowed it. She glanced at him briefly.

“Ten.” The woman’s voice over the speaker rang out. The room plunged into darkness as the lights cut off, replaced by a deep, warm purplish glow that filled the space. Frantic yells erupted around them, the quiet spell broken as chaos descended. People scattered in all directions, searching for others to team up with. Groups were forming hastily, the countdown ticking away in everyone’s minds. Y/N and the rest of her small group huddled together tightly. There were five of them—they needed five more. Reader her voice shaky from nerves, hurried over to the group next to them. “H-how many of you guys are there?” she asked urgently, her words spilling out in a rush. “Four,” Hyun-ju replied quickly, her expression just as panicked. “That makes us nine,” Jung-bae added, his voice edged with tension.

Another random group of five approached them in a frenzy. “Are you a group of five? So are we. Come with us!” one of them shouted, their tone insistent. They reached out, as if to pull them along, but before they could join, another group swooped in.

“Hey, we have five people too! Come on, come with us!” the second group said, tugging the first group away with them. Now, Y/N’s group and the group of four were left behind, still one person short. Panic set in as the seconds ticked away. “We have to hurry! There’s no time, Gi-hun!” In-ho called out, his voice rising above the growing noise. “We need one more!” Hyun-ju yelled, her eyes darting around frantically. Then, she spotted a woman standing off to the side. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward her, grabbing her arm. “We have ten now!” she shouted triumphantly.

“Room 44! Green door!” Gi-hun yelled back.

“Run!” Jung-bae added, his voice urgent.

reader ran with everyone, her heart pounding as fear and adrenaline surged through her. The group spilled into the room, the door slamming shut behind them. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and shakily. A small beep sounded, signaling that time was up. The door locked with a resounding click, trapping them inside. She wasn’t standing far from In-ho, her eyes instinctively drawn to the small opening in the door. Peering through, she could see the couple of remaining people who hadn’t managed to find a group. Her stomach twisted as she watched a guards approach them. The loud, sharp sound of gunshots rang out, echoing through the room as the players were executed one by one. Her eyes softening into ones of sympathy and remorse. A guy in front of their door catching her by surprise. “Please don’t shoot me!” He said, before getting shot right in the head. Right in front of her eyes through the opening in the door. She flinched at the sudden close noise, gasping softly as her body tensed. She stumbled slightly, bumping into In-ho by accident. Startled, she jumped and quickly turned around to face him. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, her voice trembling. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and it showed. In-ho’s eyes were locked on her, his dark but strangely gentle gaze steady. “Are you okay?” he asked lightly, his voice calm despite the chaos that had just unfolded. She nodded quickly, avoiding his eyes as she tried to compose herself. She didn’t want to look out the door anymore. The image of those left behind was burned into her mind, and she knew it would haunt her long after this moment had passed.

The lights then turned back on. The light beeps of what sounded like a forklift echoed softly in the tense silence. The woman’s voice came through the speaker once again, calm and detached as always. “The following players have been eliminated. Players 013, 043, 049, 054, 060.” She continued listing numbers in a monotone voice, the names blending together as the players in the room exchanged wary glances. This round had been brutal, far more challenging than the others. For some, it seemed almost impossible. After a few minutes, the guards began clearing the room, efficiently removing the lifeless bodies, placing them in boxes, and wheeling them away on carts. A buzz suddenly filled the air, signaling the unlocking of the door. “All players, please step back onto the platform,” the woman’s voice commanded over the speaker. The room collectively sighed, the heavy weight of the situation pressing down on everyone. Dae-ho moved toward the door, opening it as the group shuffled out.

Reader followed hesitantly, still shaken from the events of the previous round. Her mind raced, replaying the chaos. She clenched her fists, reminding herself to stay focused. Caution wasn’t enough anymore; speed was her only option. Quick and fast—that was the strategy now. She walked back onto the platform, her gaze lingering on the dark stains of blood smeared across the ground. A chill ran down her spine. She couldn’t end up like them. She wouldn’t. The thought alone made her stomach churn. In-ho trailed not far behind her, his sharp eyes watching her every move as she returned to the platform with the others. He noticed the slight tilt of her head as she glanced around nervously, trying to take in her surroundings. He could sense her fear, and though he hated to admit it, it bothered him. He didn’t want her to feel this way—even if he knew part of it was his fault. Still, he cared more about her safety than her feelings at the moment. For him, that was all that mattered.

Everyone lined up back on the large platform once more. The overhead lights flickered before dimming, casting faint shadows across their faces. The platform trembled slightly, causing several players to stumble as they tried to steady themselves. Reader felt her balance falter but managed to catch herself just in time. She instinctively glanced to her side, expecting to see In-ho, but he wasn’t there. Instead, he had moved to stand in front of her, next to Gi-hun. She watched as the two men exchanged hurried whispers, likely trying to strategize about the next number. The eerie music began to play once again, a mocking tune that felt out of place amidst the tension. The platform creaked as it began to move beneath their feet. “We will go hand in hand, and have fun jumping around. Round and round—” The sudden jerk of the platform stopping caused gasps to ripple through the group. Some players stumbled again, their nerves frayed.

“Four,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, cold and emotionless. The lights flickered off, replaced by the dim, purplish glow that seemed to swallow the room. readers heart quickened as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. “Your four, go!” Gi-hun shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “No, it’s okay! I’ll go find another group. I’m sure there’s another nearby,” reader yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noise. In-ho’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t let her run off—not when the chances of finding another group were slim. “No. You four go. Go ahead,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“B-but—” reader stammered, her voice trembling. She didn’t want to leave him. What if something happened to him? The thought was unbearable. “Go,” In-ho said strictly, turning away before she could respond. Without another word, he disappeared into the frenzied crowd, searching for another group. Reader watched him go, her chest tightening with worry. She wanted to call out to him, to stop him, but before she could, Jung-bae gently grabbed her arm. “We have no choice. Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her toward the purple-lit room. The four of them rushed inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Reader exhaled shakily, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes immediately went to the crack in the door, straining to catch a glimpse of In-ho. Her heart raced as she scanned the chaotic scene outside. People were yelling, running for rooms, and the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to focus. She couldn’t spot him in the sea of bodies.

The buzzer sounded again, signaling the end of the round. The lock on the door clicked into place, and the unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Reader flinched, her back pressing against the cold wall behind her. Her heart pounded as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to steady her breathing. How many more rounds could she survive? How many rounds were left? The question lingered in her mind, heavy and unanswerable. The lights flickered before tuning back on, the clicking sounds of every door unlocking echoing through the space. As the mechanisms released, each door swung open, and people began stepping out cautiously. Blood smeared across the floor, more than before, a grim reminder of what had just occurred. The guards moved swiftly, disposing of the bodies with practiced efficiency, clearing the way before unlocking the remaining doors. It was then that **reader** stepped out, her breath shaky but steady enough. Her eyes darted around the vast room, scanning frantically for in-ho. Where was he? She pushed forward, her nerves on edge, walking alongside dae-ho, jung-bae, and gi-hun. The group stopped just outside the door, their expressions tense, voices rising as they began calling out for in-ho.

“Young-il!” Dae-ho shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice louder. “Young-il?” Jung-bae called out, his tone edged with concern. reader glanced around nervously, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her wide, soft eyes flickered with worry as her gaze swept the room. Then, finally, she heard it—a familiar voice that made her heart skip a beat. “Gi-hun.” The voice was steady, calm, and unmistakable.

She turned sharply in the direction of the voice, and there he was. In-ho was walking back towards the group, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, softening her expression as a sweet smile replaced her anxious frown. “Young-il!” Dae-ho called out again, this time with a breathy chuckle of relief. “Oh, thank god,” Jung-bae muttered, his tone heavy with gratitude as he stepped forward to embrace in-ho in a tight hug. In-ho stood beside reader, his presence grounding her in the moment. She let out a gentle chuckle, watching as Jung-bae clung to him briefly before stepping back. “I was worried,” Gi-hun admitted, his voice sincere, though tinged with a rare softness. “I’m glad you made it.”

Reader remained still, her gaze fixed on in-ho. Her eyes, wide and tender, were filled with a mixture of relief and unspoken gratitude. “I’m a likeable guy,” In-ho said with a light chuckle, his tone playful yet modest. “So I’m good at games like this.” A small smile broke across her lips as she watched him, her heart settling into a more even rhythm. In-ho’s gaze shifted then, turning towards her. His eyes, which had moments before been sharp and focused, now softened as they met hers. There was something gentle in his expression, a quiet concern that made her chest feel warm. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice light and unusually soft, as though he feared startling her. “Yes… I’m okay,” she replied, her tone quiet but sincere. “I’m glad you made it.” Her lips curved into a sweet, gentle smile, one that carried all her relief and gratitude in its simplicity. In-ho smiled back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that felt personal, almost intimate. His eyes, filled with affection and care, lingered on her for a moment longer before he sighed lightly and turned his attention back to the group. “All players, please step back onto the center platform,” the woman’s voice rang out again, cutting through the moment. It was calm, detached, and yet insistent, as though reminding them that their reprieve was only temporary. Reader took a deep breath, her smile fading only slightly as she prepared herself for whatever came next. Beside her, in-ho remained steady, his presence a small comfort amidst the tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud.

~

Two rounds had passed, and now it was the final round. The remaining players hesitated for a moment before stepping back onto the platform. Tension filled the room as everyone prepared themselves for what was to come. Reader moved to walk beside In-ho, wanting to stay close to him once again. She felt less jittery than before, having learned to be more cautious after the previous rounds. The woman’s voice echoed through the speakers, commanding attention. “Now, the final round will begin.” The platform shook slightly, causing some players to stumble. The familiar melody of “Round and Round” began to play again, filling the room with its eerie rhythm. Reader eyes darted around the room, noting the doors, the flickering lights, and the bloodstains that painted the floor and walls. In-ho, however, kept his gaze on her, watching her closely. She didn’t appear as nervous as earlier, which reassured him.

On In-ho’s other side stood Gi-hun, with Jung-bae behind him. “What do you think the number will be this time?” Jung-bae asked curiously. Before Gi-hun could answer, In-ho replied with quiet certainty, “Two.” Reader glanced up at him, noticing how his focus had shifted from her to the doors ahead. “Why two?” Jung-bae pressed, frowning. “There are 126 people left,” In-ho explained calmly. “And there are 50 rooms. That means there won’t be enough for everyone—only 100 people will survive. The rest will be killed.” His tone was steady and confident, leaving no room for doubt. A tense silence followed, broken only by the haunting music.

Suddenly, the platform came to an abrupt stop. The lights flickered off, replaced by the purplish glow that bathed the room in an unsettling hue. The woman’s voice declared, “Two.” Readers nerves returned, tension rising in her chest as her eyes flicked around uneasily. Sensing her fear, In-ho quickly grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said firmly, leading her toward one of the rooms. Her heart raced as she followed, her cheeks flushing as his hand held hers. But as they neared the door, another group converged on the same target. Before she realized what was happening, a pair of hands shoved her back. She let out a startled squeal as she hit the floor, her breath knocked out of her. The two others rushed past her toward the door.

Hearing her cry, In-ho spun around. He immediately saw her on the ground and his eyes darkened. She scrambled to her feet, running toward the door, but one of the men had already slipped inside. His partner tried to follow, but In-ho intercepted him. Wrapping an arm tightly around the man’s neck, In-ho growled, “Get in!” to reader. She obeyed without hesitation, darting into the room, her breaths quick and unsteady. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. Inside the room stood another man, his presence immediately setting her on edge. In-ho shoved the second man out of the doorway, entering behind her. His expression was cold and intense as he turned to the remaining intruder.

“Get out,” In-ho demanded, his voice low and firm.

The man’s eyes darted between In-ho and reader before shaking his head defiantly. “We were here first,” he spat, referring to himself and the man In-ho had thrown out.

The timer began to beep, counting down from 18. There was no time to argue. In-ho lunged at the man, tackling him to the ground. The sudden banging on the door behind her made reader jump. Someone outside was trying to force their way in. She pressed against the door, struggling to hold it shut as fear gripped her.

“There are three people in here,” she thought frantically. “There can only be two.”

The woman’s voice continued counting down. “Seven… six…” The banging stopped as the person outside ran off, searching for another open room. She turned her attention back to In-ho and the other man, who were locked in a violent struggle.

“Five… four… three…” In-ho had the man in a headlock now, his grip unrelenting. Readers heart pounded as the scene played out before her. Her eyes big, filled with worry. And now fear.

“Two…”

With a sharp jerk of his arm, In-ho snapped the man’s neck. The sickening crack echoed in the small room. Reader gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the lifeless body slumping in In-ho’s arms.

“One.”

A soft beep signaled the end of the round, and the door locked with a final click. The woman’s voice spoke again. “Game over.”

Readers wide eyes glistened with fear and disbelief as she looked at In-ho. He was still crouched on the floor, the dead man’s body at his feet. His dark eyes met hers, showing no remorse. Slowly, he stood, his expression softening slightly as he approached her. She instinctively took a step back, her body pressing into the corner of the room. “Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice low and cautious. “Just…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just don’t say anything.” “I had to,” he said firmly, his tone unwavering.

“I know…” she replied in a barely audible voice.

In-ho stood directly in front of her now. His hand reached out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at his touch, her fear still lingering. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. But he didn’t feel any regret, not at all.

All that was important is that she lived.

[cameronsprincess]

THE STORM (PT. 2) — J.M

— summary: it’s been six months since that night at the chateau with jj, and he’s back for more.

— CW: mean!jj, maybe forced proximity??, slight breeding kink, slapping, choking, degrading, unprotected piv sex.

— note: i kinda came up with something for this, and have had it in my drafts for a minute.. i queued it up before i went on my break, hope y’all enjoy and i’ll be back soon! you can read part one here if you haven’t already!

It’s been six months since that night. The night that has consumed your every waking thought, and every nightmare you had.

You’d always known JJ hated you, so you don’t know why it really surprised you that things went down the way they did. JJ was a horrible person to put it nicely. Sure, you felt for him at times, his home life not being the best and all, but after that night, you stopped caring, you stopped trying, and you tried your hardest to ignore him.

But it’s hard to ignore someone who continually puts themself in your line of sight. You knew you’d still see him, seeing as the two of you are both in the same friend group, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t ignore his presence. The more you tried to ignore him though, the harder he tried to get your attention.

He’d throw mean jabs your way, shoulder check you as he walked past you, you’d catch him staring at you from across a room or when you and your friends are gathered around a late night fire his bright blue eyes stayed glued on you when no one else was paying attention.

This was one of those moments.

You and your friends decided to have a fire at the chateau, and the only thing you could focus on was the blonde whose blue eyes were burning a hole into the side of your face.

“So like I said, he’s a dick, and I hope our dad kicks him out soon.”

You blink once. Twice. Three times before finally putting your focus back on Sarah who had been talking to you.

“I’m so sorry, Sare. I’m just out of it tonight, what’d you say?”

Sarah places a loving hand on your shoulder before laughing. “It’s cool, just me complaining about Rafe, per usual. Are you okay?”

You slowly nod your head, letting your head hang and your eyes focus on the seltzer you had in your hands. Truth was, you were far from okay. Even after everything JJ has put you through — before and after you had sex with him — you couldn’t get him out of your head. You wanted to feel him again, you wanted to let him ravage you again, and you hated yourself for it.

“Yeah I’m good. Just tired, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You pause, looking up and calling for John B. “You mind if I sleep in the spare room tonight?”

John B smiles back at you, nodding his head once. “Yeah that’s fine! Looks like you got the couch tonight, J.”

Your eyes flit over to JJ, his intense fiery gaze already on you. The corners of his lips lift into a small smile, but it looked evil. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He said lowly, responding to JB but his eyes never left yours.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire despite the cold December air, and it wasn’t from the large fire blazing in front of you. No, it’s JJ and his all consuming presence that has your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out.

You quickly drop your eyes, downing the last of your seltzer and crushing it in your hand. You tell your friends goodnight and head inside the old house, tossing the can into the trash and making your way down the small hallway and into the guest bedroom.

You hated the way JJ made you feel. You hated him. You hated how you still wanted him even after he used you and quite literally tossed you to the side when he was done with you.

His words have torn you apart the last six months. “We don’t talk about this, ever. got it? It was just.. hate sex? Someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. This changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you.”

You’re stripping yourself of your jeans and thick sweater, getting ready to climb into the bed when the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door squeaking open has you turning fast on your heels.

JJ.

“What.. What’re you doing in here?”

You hate the way your voice has a slight shake to it, the way you don’t sound confident and how your entire body is shaking in his presence. But most importantly, you hate the way your pussy is throbbing, growing wet at just the sight of JJ and his fucking stupidly beautiful face.

He smirks at you, reaching a hand behind him and locking the door. You take a cautious step backward, your eyes narrowing and head cocked slightly to the side as you watch him watch you.

“JJ! What the fuck are you-”

The rest of your sentence dies when JJ reaches you with just two long strides, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat and shoving you into the wall behind you.

“You’re driving me fucking insane. You know that? I fucking hate you, yet, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

Your eyes go wide, tears clouding your vision as you try and gasp for air. Your lips move, trying to choke out a response or anything, but all that comes out is strangled nonsense.

“I’ve tried! I’ve tried fucking other girls, I’ve tried staying away from you. But you’re fucking everywhere. Do you know how goddamn irritating that is? Why can’t you just go back to figure eight and stay there? Why the fuck do you keep comin’ around here?”

You lift your arms, gripping onto his wrist that holds your throat and clawing at it, begging him to release you. It’s not your fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You weren’t the one that came onto him that night, it was him! So why are you being blamed? Why is he making it so hard to breathe? So hard to… To..

Black dots take over your vision, your body going numb as JJ tightens his hand around your throat, squeezing so hard you’re close to blacking out.

JJ senses your body going slack in his hold and releases you, stepping back and watching as you hunch over, hands gripping your knees as you suck in breath after breath of sweet oxygen.

Once your head is not longer spinning and you’re breathing properly again, you slowly lift your body, your pissed off gaze finding JJ still standing there.

“Fuck you, JJ! I didn’t do shit! You came onto me that night! You told me that it changed nothing, so frankly, I don’t fucking feel sorry that you can’t get me out of your head, in fact, it brings me great pleasure to know I’m all you think about,” you pause, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking in a slow, long breath of air. “So if you don’t fucking mind, I’m exhausted and just want to be left the fuck alone!”

You move to climb into the bed, but JJ grips your upper arm tightly pulling you back and flush into his firm body. His head dips down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and sending a shudder through your body.

His warm breath fans across your sensitive skin, and your nipples harden in response. Fuck him. You won’t give in easily this time.

“I think you want to fuck me again. I think, I’ve been in this pretty little head just as much as you’ve been in mine,” He pauses, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your temple. “Lay on the bed, Y/L/N. Now.”

You turn your head to look at JJ, your eyes narrowed into thin slits as you contemplate what to say. He’s not entirely wrong, but you’d be stupid to sleep with him again.

“Fuck. You. I refuse to let you fuck me again.”

JJ’s eyes darken, and the hand on your arm tightens more before he yanks you to the side and tosses you onto the bed. You lay there, chest heaving up and down as you watch him intently, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He stands there, staring at you, his own breathing erratic. Slowly, he pulls his tight white t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. Your eyes scan the length of his tanned and toned chest. God, you want to feel him underneath your hands so badly, you want to give in and let him fuck you again. No one, and you mean no one, had ever fucked you the way JJ had.

“You look real pretty like this, in nothing but your bra and panties, actin’ like your pussy isn’t fuckin’ soaked f’me, crying f’me and just begging to be filled with my cock again.”

You open your mouth to speak, but JJ climbs on top of you, grabbing both your wrists in his right hand and pinning them above your head. You gasp loudly when you feel his cock pressing against your lace covered core, even through his jeans you can feel every last inch of him. Your pussy throbs, your arousal soaking your thighs as he lays there, unmoving but still the feel of his hard cock has you wanting to feel more of him.

“Tell me, princess. You wanna feel me inside you again? You wanna be fucked properly again? Because I know them kooks ain’t doing you no good. No, a girl like you needs to be dominated, needs to be choked and slapped and fucked nice and hard, needs to be put in her place, that what you want baby?”

You’re weak. You can’t even tell him no when your slick thighs, hard nipples and the way you’re breathing is giving the truth away. And the truth is, JJ is right. No one has compared to him. You want him to claim you, to break your mind and leave you craving more even when you know you shouldn’t.

“I- Please. Please fuck me.”

That’s all JJ needed to hear. He releases your wrists from his hand and yanks the cups of your bra down, exposing your tits to him. He smirks at the sight of your hard nipples, dipping his head down and licking each one before sucking one into his mouth.

He releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, moving to the other and repeating his actions. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking slut, yeah? Loves the idea of fucking the one person she shouldn’t.”

You whimper in response, bucking your hips upward, craving any type of friction on your swollen, needy clit.

“Awww, how pathetic. Begging to be fucked already, don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna fuck this cunt, and I’m fucking it raw this time.”

JJ hops off the bed, popping the button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down with haste. You watch as he slides his jeans and boxers down his legs in one fell swoop, wasting no time in crawling back on top of you and claiming your lips with his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and further into you. You grind your hips against his, feeling his thick cock slide up and down through your slick folds. JJ groans in response, breaking the kiss and pushing himself up, supporting his weight with both his hands.

“So fuckin’ eager, aren’t ya? Wanna be fucked like the dirty little whore we both know you are.”

You nod your head fast, whimpering and moaning as you continue to grind your hips against the air. JJ laughs at you, his hand landing a harsh smack to your cheek before he grips his cock, stroking at it twice before sliding his swollen tip through your folds.

“P-Please, J! Please, fuck me! Wanna be fucked like a whore, wanna be your whore, the girl you hate but fuck anyways!”

JJ groans, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He looks down at you, eyes locked with yours as he pushes himself all the way inside you, filling and stretching your pussy. The two of you moan in unison.

“Fuck! So fuckin’ tight, feels so much better than I remember.” JJ rasps, his hips still, cock unmoving inside your pussy.

You begin grinding your hips, wanting to feel him move inside you, wanting his cock to bring you an orgasm.

JJ slaps at your face again, giving you a look of warning before he dips his head down and captures your lips with his again. He kisses you fervently and begins moving his hips, slowly at first, but then hard and fast.

You moan into his mouth when his swollen tip repeatedly hits at your g-spot, making your toes curl and fingers dig into the smooth skin of his back. “Fuckfuckfuck, JJ! Feels so fucking good!”

JJ picks up the pace of his thrusts, pounding himself inside you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, and you’re secretly praying it isn’t the last time. You need more of him forever, even if it’ll only ever be hate sex. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even think of another girl getting this from him.

“Yeah? Feels good? Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? Make you a mama and be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

A loud moan escapes you at his words, and honestly, the thought isn’t too bad. You wouldn’t mind JJ knocking you up, you would always have a reason to see him, and maybe, just maybe, it would change the dynamic between the two of you.

You bite and suck on his lower lip as he continues his brutal thrusts, your pussy clenching around him with every push and pull of his cock. He slows his pace, slowly pulling out so only the tip remains inside you before harshly shoving himself back in. He continues to slowly pull himself out before shoving himself back in, his swollen head hitting that spot inside you over and over again until you’re so close to exploding you can taste it.

“J-JJ! Need.. Need to cum, please!”

Your teeth are chattering, legs shaking and belly tightening. You can’t hold off your orgasm, and thankfully, JJ doesn’t make you.

“Go on, make a mess on my cock, show me how much your pussy loves my cock being inside her.”

That was all it took, your orgasm gushes from you, soaking JJ’s cock and the sheets below you.

“JJ, oh God! Fuck!” You cry out, your nails digging into JJ’s back so hard you break skin.

JJ picks up the speed of his thrusts again, savagely fucking into your sensitive pussy, chasing his own high.

“Gonna cum inside this little cunt, claim you as mine, because you’re mine now, don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning out a soft “yes”. JJ’s cock swells, twitching inside you as he comes undone, filling you with his cum like he said he would.

He thrusts inside you one final time, stilling and holding himself deep inside you, letting every last drop of cum fill you. Once he’s come down, he slowly pulls himself from inside you and places a kiss to your sweat slick forehead.

“Don’t know what else to say besides, you’re mine. I ain’t sayin’ I like you, or that I am gonna fall in love with you, but I don’t want no one else, and I don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You slowly nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep tries to claim you. JJ quietly redresses, placing one final kiss to the top of your head before he makes his way out of the room. You drift to sleep, your mind consumed with what just happened, with JJ’s cum leaking from your pussy, and thoughts of what the fuck was to come from this little arrangement you just made with him.

JJ taglist: @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @ratatioulle // @maybankskiss // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @simars3 // @urbimom // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @hyperfixationgirl // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @drewsuncrustables // @eviesmoon // @bunbunbl0gs // @enzos-doll // @mishala // @ilovegeorgiaamoore777 // @lovelymiaablogs

JJ Maybank masterlist | Taglist form

[cryptidghostgirl]

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

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Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3