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lovifie · 9 months ago

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 7: Price’s Date

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Price x Reader, inaccuracies around gun-related stuff, use of Sir (like a brat), something with cameras.

Not too far away, at the base, a phone rings inside Price's office. His eyebrow furrows for a second at the unknown ringtone, until he remembers is the burner phone he has with only your number on it, the same case for all the 141 task force. An extra security step he is more than willing to take.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, once he picks up the phone, worry clear in his voice.

“Nothing!” You quickly reassure him. “I was just wondering… are you busy tomorrow?”

Price looks at his agenda, it is filled to the brim with meetings and things to do. “I could move some things, why?”

“I thought you would like to go on a date… with me?”

“Are you… are you asking me out on a date, doll?”

You remain silent for a second. “Maybe… Only if you want…”

“I do!” He quickly says before you can step back. “I just thought it would be me asking you out.”

“So do it.”

Price chuckles, the sound travelling through to your ears making you smile. “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You quickly answer. “I would like it very much, John.”

The sound of his name leaving your mouth travelling straight to his dick. “Sounds like a date then, love. I’ll drop by the house tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you then the time, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect.” You mutter back. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, love.”

After another beat of silence, the beep beep beep indicates one of you hung up.

Price claps his hands as if his football team just scored a goal before quickly collecting himself and getting back to work wanting to get done as much as possible.

On the other side of the line, Johnny keeps teasing you about how you looked like a teenager asking his crush out while Simon laughs at the both of you.

“You are just teasing me ‘cause you are jealous you were not the first one.” You say sticking your tongue to him as you sit on Simon’s lap like a kid hiding behind his parent.

Johnny looks at you offended while Simon laughs at him before adding. “She got you there, mate”

“Good morning, lovie.” Price says smiling when you open the door for him in the morning, stepping aside to let him in. “Good morning, John. I’m still having breakfast, want to join me?” You ask smiling.

“I’ll join you to the end of the world, love. Breakfast is just a plus.” He says dropping a kiss to your forehead as he walks in. “I brought you this.” He adds, raising his hand and letting you see the bag he is holding.

“And what is that?” You ask taking the bag from his hand when he lends it to you. You leave it on the table as you fill a second cup with coffee for him, both of you sitting down before you take the bag again to check what's inside. “Oh! This is mine!” You say surprised.

Price smiles back at your surprised expression and says: “We went back to your apartment, picked up everything that we left the last time. It is mostly bathroom stuff, and some clothes we were able to find.”

“Aw, John… Thank you, really.” You say looking through your stuff, until you come across an unfamiliar red colour. “John?”

“Yes, doll?”

“How many women being followed by terrorists do you know?

“Hm, a couple actually. You are the only one I'm hiding, though.”

“Johnathan!” You exclaim slapping his arms when he laughs. He grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles and keeps your hand on his.

“Keep saying my name and we will not be leaving the house today, love.” He says looking at your eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Another chance, John. How many?” You ask, raising a finger keeping the rest interlocked with his, raising an eyebrow.

“Only you, love. I promise.” He says smiling softly, no teasing left in his voice. “I bought you that dress, for tonight, you silly girl. You could get me on my knees in your pyjama, but I assumed you would rather wear something fancier.”

“Oh.” You say a little bit embarrassed, but accepting the compliment. “Okay.”

He chuckles softly at you, drinking his coffee and standing up, he cups your face with both his hands before kissing your lips harshly before pulling away. “I'll pick you up at seven, love. Be ready by then.”

You nod quickly, he gives you one more kiss and he says goodbye before heading out to work.

You basically start getting ready after lunch, you don't have much to do anyway. So you run yourself a bath, taking your time, not a rush in you.

It makes you think about how your life was just a couple of days ago, you didn't even have a bathtub and now? Two baths in two days!

The dress Price brought you fits you like a glove, and you make a mental note to ask about it. Almost your whole back is exposed, the dress almost reaching the floor with the heels on. You choose a red lipstick that luckily matches the red colour of the dress and decide to do your hair up so it doesn't cover your back.

You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, happy with the result. And if there was any bit of self-doubt left in you, it quickly dissipates the moment you walk into the living room where the other three men are currently at. Laughing when their mouth falls open like in the cartoons.

“Fuckin' hell, bonnie.” Johnny groans looking at you.

“Alright, is she ready?” Price asks entering the flat, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a suit that could be tailored by how well it fits him. You walk up to him smiling, bending down a bit to smell the flower. “For me?” You ask softly.

He nods, unable to find words to answer and helps you take the bouquet taking care that you won't touch any thorn. Once on your hands, you walk to the kitchen to put them in water. Price looks at you up and down when he sees the dress flow with every movement of your hips. He definitely needs to send a good bottle of wine to Laswell for her help choosing the dress.

“Ready?” You ask looking at him once you are back and you find him with his eyes still staring at where they were before you entered the kitchen. He quickly looks up at your face and smiles. “And waiting, love. Let's go.” He finally says, lending you his arm which you gladly grab. He turns back to the three massive scary military men in your living room who look like kids who have gotten their desert stolen. “Good night, boys. Be nice, we'll see you tomorrow.” You chuckle blowing them a kiss and getting out first, what you don't see behind your back is the way Price raises his hand with his middle finger out and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuckin' bastard” Soap chuckles once the door closes.

Once on the street, you take a deep breath, savouring finally being out of the house. And Price must take notice because when both of you are sitting in the car (he opened the door for you, of course), he pulls your window down slightly letting the night air hit you.

“I’m definitely making all of you take me out more often.” You say looking out the window.

“And we will do it gladly, love.” He says resting a hand on your thigh. “You just gotta ask.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You say smiling resting your hand on top of his.

The street air flows through the open window taking with it the last worries on your mind, it is easy being with him. With the four of them to be honest.

“Are you hungry, love?” He asks, moving his hand from your thigh to the gearstick to switch gears as he gets closer to the restaurant.

“I'm starving, Captain.” You say smiling when he side eyes after you talk. Chuckling softly at the double meaning of your words. Once the car is parked, he exits the car to open your door, holding his hand out for you.

The restaurant must be the fanciest you have ever set foot inside of, as soon as you enter a waiter comes to walk the both of you to your table. The other guests are calmly eating at their table, the decorations of the plans and folding screens making it feel like a separate room for each couple.

Price pulls your chair back to allow you to sit and then push you closer to the table. A waiter comes after a while to take note, and not much later comes back with a bottle of wine. He pours the glasses and Price and you are left alone.

“Can I ask you something, John?” You ask, resting your hand on top of his, caressing it with your fingertips. He quickly nods, and you add: “How… how did the relationship between the four of you work?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It's a bit blurry how it started to be completely honest… As a team we expend so much time together, we must trust each other with our lives, and sometimes these things just… happen?” He ask, just to check if you understand. He continues when you nod. “It was not the four of us at first, Soap and Simon were the closest and as far as I know, the ones who did it first. Then Gaz and I were sent on a mission together for a couple of months and it simply happened. Then Gaz and Soap talked about it, they got drunk and did it too. After that, we realised we were not hurting anybody so… we continued.”

“And now there is me…” You add, looking down at his hand. There is an underlying question, about how exactly do you fit in a relationship that seems to have been built around a web of trust and years of knowing each other. And now you appear, and in 48 hours, you are in the centre of it all.

“And now there is you.” Price answers, interlacing his fingers with yours. “And we are really happy you are, you know that right?” He asks, and he squeezes your hand when you don't answer him. “Look at me, birdie.”

“I'm sorry.” You mutter looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I know we talked about it, but I can't help it, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, easy now, love. Don't apologise.” He says, extending his arm easily reaching the other side of the table to cup your face. “What is it, love?”

“It's just… you are like… bigger than the CIA.” You whisper, unsure of how much you can say. “And it's not only like, the name. The four of you are just… so big, and cool, and handsome, and nice, and kind, and strong, and you can fight, and people respect all of you… and me… I'm a fucking loser.”

“Now, that's where I'm going to stop you. Because I'm not letting you shit talk about my girl, birdie.” He says, bopping your nose with his finger as he does. “You are not a loser. You are breathtaking, you have a job, you have a house, you have a car, you are smart, you are kind and for god's sake, birdie, you have an entire SAS task force begging you to even look at them. Take pride in that, love.”

“But that's not the same, Price. What if… what if my apartment didn't have the hiding spot on top of the closet?” You ask, and you can see his expression change, disliking to even think of the possibilities. “I would have been at their mercy so fucking easy, you remember how easy it was for Soap and Ghost to pick me up and handcuff me to Gaz. They'll raise their voice at me a bit too much and they'll have me at my knees begging for forgiveness because that's the only thing I know how to do. Fucking useless…”

“And if you knew how to fight back?” He asks, looking directly at your eyes. “Would it help you feel better?”

“I don't want to be even a bigger burden, Price.” You sigh, unconsciously pouting slightly.

“That's not what I asked, birdie. Would it help if you knew how to fight back? How to defend yourself?” He asks, and when you nod, he nods back, thinking to himself. “All right, luckily for you, I know just the Captain to teach you a couple of tricks.” He says, making you smile. At that moment, the food arrives at the table and when the waiter walks back, he says; “So eat up, we have things to do tonight, love.

Dinner turns out to be delicious, nothing that you didn't expect. And after enjoying each other company through it, he pays for the food and walks along you back to the car.

You still don't know what's his plan, and he won't tell you any more information than what he has already. It's not until later, when he is already driving that you start to recognise the road and you ask: “Are we going to the base?”

He nods. “I'm gonna train you. Is as good as any time to start doing it, right?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Is it?” You ask, looking at the clothes the both of you are wearing. “Aren't we dressed a little bit too fancy?”

“Well, you never know when you are going to be attacked, it'll add to the realism.” He answers chuckling, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking your head and smiling as well.

Once he parks in the base, he opens your door again and the both of you walk hand in hand to the shooting range. He turns on the lights to illuminate the empty room and walks to one of the cupboards on the side. He opens it, taking a gun, some bullets and a pair of glasses for eye protection from the inside. He puts the glasses on you, smiling for himself and hands you the gun.

You pick it up, a bit surprised by the weight and look up at him. “Straight to shooting? I was expecting maybe some sparring for my first class, John.”

He chuckles nodding before saying: “I know, but it's really weird to find the shooting range empty. So let's take advantage of it, shall we? First lesson, how to reload the gun.”

He explains to you how to do it, stirring something in you as he uses a different from what you are used to. You assume that's how he talks to his soldier when instructing them, and even though a part of you is curious about what he must sound like when he is pissed at them, you follow the instructions earning yourself a “Good girl” that has you smiling and blushing like an idiot.

He steps behind you, separating your feet with his foot and telling you what's the best position. His chest is pressed to your back and his hands are around your hands. He points to a little relief on the end of the barrel and says: “This is the front sight, and this is the rear sight.” He says pointing to a second one on the back. “Align them, and then you'll know where you are aiming. Once you have done that, take the safety back and pull the trigger. Careful with the recoil, I'll help you with this one.”

You follow his instructions, grabbing the gun with steady hands so it doesn't fly away once you press the trigger and when you can see the target through the align sight, you shoot. Price's hands over yours keep the gun in place, and he looks up to the screen on top of you to see where the bullet hit and he whistles looking back at you. “You hit the target, birdie. Quite impressive, love.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You say and chuckle when he looks at you with a face. “What? You don't like it when I call you sir?”

“You have a gun on your hands, birdie. Behave.” He says sternly but still gently. “Shoot again.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say smiling and going back to aiming the gun. Just when you are about to shoot, Price presses his growing boner against your arse, completely distracting you and sending the bullet out or the target.

“Birdie! That was worse.” Price says behind you, with a fake worrying tone.

“What did you expect?” You exclaim, looking back at him offended.

“Now, now. It's part of the training, love. You need to work through the distractions.” He says chuckling.

“Yeah, I'm sure all of the boys went through it.” You reply.

“Gaz did.” He says simply. “And he didn't complain, so back to work.”

You groan, clearly knowing what he planning on doing and getting ready for the teasing he is about to put you through. You close one eye to be able to focus more clearly, and position the gun to shoot and again, just before you pull the trigger, he rubs against you making you miss the target. He laughs softly behind you and you groan pulling your head back “John!” you whine

“What is it, love?” He asks nonchalantly. “I am not going to learn like this.” You answer looking back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says peppering your exposed shoulder with kisses. “You are right, I’m sorry, birdie, you just make me lose my mind so easily. Get back at it, I’ll try my best to not eat you up for now.”

You shake your head at his dramatism and raise the gun again. Once Price is back in Captain's mood it is fairly easy to get the hang of it, after a while letting you hold the gun on your own, the recoil shaking your whole body the first couple of shots. Not that Price shamelessly ogles your whole body when it jiggled because of the shoot. At the end, and actually fairly soon you get more and more clean shots, getting closer and closer to the bullseye earning yourself a pat on the back by Price. “You’re a natural, birdie. I’ll keep you in mind if we get an opening.” He jokes making you laugh.

“Sure, I’m sure I’ll be at you guys level in a week.” You joke back and then look at him. “You can go back now.”

“Sorry?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“You know, back to that… distraction training thing.” You say, struggling to keep the eye contact and when he gets what you are talking about he laughs loudly before going back to hugging you from behind. “Does my sweet girl want a bit more extra training?” He says grinding against your arse, his boner more prominent now than on his last try. You nod breathless, unable to speak. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir”

A groan is everything you hear before he grabs your hips pushing you flush against him. He kisses your neck leaving a wet trail as he goes up to your ear. “Shoot the gun, birdie. Don’t miss.”

You try to focus as hard as you can with his warm mouth against the skin of your neck and his hard dick in between your ass cheeks; when you shoot it goes terribly out of the target and when he realizes a slap lands on your clothed cunt making you shake a whine escaping your mouth. “Again, birdie.”

As you adjust the gun, you feel his hand find its way under your dress beginning to rub your cunt over your underwear. When you are about to shoot, he presses his index finger against your clit making you miss again and another slap land on you, harder with the loss of the dress in the way. “You are getting these underwear ruined, birdie. Such a nasty girl. Try again, and I'll give you something.”

Once again, you raise the gun, closing your eyes for a second when he circles your clit with his fingertips. He gets his hand under your underwear, slipping his finger back and forth from your hole to your clit. You can feel your whole body shake, but somehow your hand remain steady and when you shoot this time you feel his finger enter your cunt forcing you to close your eyes. You leave the gun on the table, not trusting yourself with your eyes closes and whole body shaking again once Price begins to piston his finger in and out of your cunt making you moan his name.

His other arm finds his way around your neck, pushing you up and keeping you in a headlock only able to moan his name and take his finger in your cunt. “Look at the screen, birdie.” He whispers in your ear, and when you look up you notice the bullet hit straight into the bullseye, a weak smile appearing on your face.

“Such a good fucking girl, birdie. Shooting so good so soon.” He whispers against your skin as he enters a second finger into you making you whine at the stretch. “Now I need to give you something, right?” He asks and you quickly nod moaning. “How about I give you a good fuck, birdie? Hm? Almost my whole team has already got a taste of fucking your sweet little cunt, and here I am, waiting for you to let me get inside, love. You want that, birdie? Are you gonna let the Captain fuck you stupid, hm?”

You eagerly nod earning a chuckle from him, but his fingers don't stop fucking your cunt the ball of his hand hitting your clit with every thrust sending a shock up your spine. You can only whine and moan at his mercy as you feel your orgasm approach, for a second you fear he might leave you wanting but you quickly realize that he much rather have you crying from overstimulation. You come with a loud moan of his name as you whip your head back on his shoulder unable to stay still as he keeps going not slowing down making your juices lazily drip down his hand.

“Ask for it, birdie. Please, I want to hear you ask for it.” He says, moving the arm from your neck letting you hold yourself up holding onto the table, slowing his fingers but still slowly fucking you.

“Please… Fuck me, please, John.” You half moan, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Price groans letting his forehead rest on your back, laughing to himself. “Birdie, you are going to kill me one of these days.” He says before dropping a kiss to where your exposed back begins and dragging his tongue up to your nape making you whine and arc your back onto him.

You hear the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone, and you feel his fingers slip from your cunt only to appear right on your lips. “Taste yourself, birdie. Taste how fucking delicious you are.” You take his finger on your mouth, making him groan as you hear him fist himself; his tip grazing your wet cunt once he moves your underwear to the side. He pushes his finger down on your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth and a loud moan leaves your mouth as his dick enters your pussy stretching you out.

And then, a series of praises and compliments begin to fall from Price’s mouth as he fucks you that takes your mind to a blissful state where the only thing you can do is moan and take in the love Price is pouring onto you. “My sweet fucking girl… taking my dick so fucking good, the best fucking pussy I have ever had, love. You just fucking ruined me for everyone else, gonna keep you with me forever, hm? You’ll like that, birdie? Keeping you with me forever, and with the boys. Oh, birdie, if you have heard them… fuck… fucking obsessed with you, birdie. Stay with us, birdie. We’ll be good, I promised. We’ll take care of you, of everything you want, everything you need.”

To hear the respectable Captain Price practically whine in your ear, begging you to stay with him has you weak on your knees and you fear you may collapse when the hand on your hips disappear for a moment. It quickly comes back, and the hand inside your mouth goes out grabbing your jaw instead and forcing you to look at the screen, and the sight makes your eyes widen.

On the screen is the clear image of you getting your gut rearranged by the 141 Captain, being livestream by the security camera of the shooting range. Price goes back to whispering filth in your ear when he feels you clench. “Look how good you fucking look, birdie. Going to fucking steal the footage, watch it every night. How about we let the boys see it, hm? How good you take my cock on this tight fucking pussy, hm? Like a fucking champ.”

You whine clenching again earning a groan from him, unable to peel your eyes away both by his hand and by the hypnotic image on the screen. The mental image of Price or any of the boys pleasuring themselves with the ongoing images has you getting closer and closer to the edge, and Price must be able to tell because he gets a hand down to your clit rubbing quick circles in it making you cum with a loud moan as you clench on him like a vice. He groans behind you, your hands find their way back to the edge of the table when he takes back the hand from your jaw, just to slap your ass making you whine and grabs your hips fucking you hard, the sound of his hips hitting the meat of your ass filling the room. You wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to bruises on your body, Price chasing his own release like a madman moaning your name when he finally reaches it releasing his hot cum inside of you.

Still buried inside of you, he hugs you from behind his forehead resting on your shoulder, groaning when he feels you clench around him from the aftershock of your orgasm. He raises, grabbing your leg in the process and raising it, leaving you spread-legged directly to the camera. “Show the boys, doll. Did I fuck you nice, birdie?” He asks, and when you nod without talking he gives you a quick thrust with his softening dick making you moan of overstimulation. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir.” You moan softly, and whine when Price bends down biting the joint of your shoulder and neck hard, possessiveness taking over him and urging him to leave a mark on you as if his cum leaking from your cunt around his dick wasn't enough. “Good fucking girl, birdie. So fucking good.” He says licking the mark of his teeth he just left. He leaves your leg down, dropping kisses around your shoulder before asking: “Can you hold still for a minute, birdie? I’m gonna be back in just a minute, I promise.” You nod, leaning more of your weight onto the table making him chuckle and you hear him walk away.

Being true to his word, he comes back just a minute later, a pen drive in his hand and two hours' worth of footage deleted from the security system. He lifts you bridal style and he starts to walk to his room, turning the lights off on his way out.

Once inside his room, he takes your clothes off as well as his own and gets in the shower with him. A warm innocent shower, just him washing the sweat and saliva of your body. Once the both of you are cleaned, he covers you with a towel sitting you on the toilet and uses a wet towel to clean the make-up off your face. The both of you brush your teeth in comfortable silence and then he dries you up. Neither of you bothers to put on any clothes before getting under the cover, the heat of each other body keeping you warm.

Price cups your face, finally kissing you for the first time in the whole night, sealing the deal of all the promises and feelings he professed for you. He lets you readjust your position against him before hugging you and whispers before falling asleep. “Sleep nice, birdie.”

Hii 💗

Hope you liked the first date with the boys, Price won the poll like, with a huge difference 🤣 so I hope I met the expectations.

I already have most of the other dates planned, but let me know if you would like for something to happen hehe.

Thank you so much for the support, make sure to leave a comment if you liked it so I can see, really I love to read the comments so don't be worried about writing.

If you want to be added to the permanent link it is on my masterlist, and I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

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simp-ly-writes · 11 months ago

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Safehouse

Pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes south, the team is looking for a safehouse to keep their heads down but little do they know of the small family you keep hidden away from the world.

Warnings: some light swearing and depictions of blood.

A/N: Inspired by the Avengers: Age of Ultron - Safehouse Scene.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The night mission had gone terribly. You had been deployed for over six months now and for all that stress to amount for nothing had a new rage encompassing your mind- distracting you from the bullet wound you sustained while trying to escape from a collapsing building. The intelligence your team was meant to collect falling down with it.

Shaking your head at the back of the SUV, you grasped your thigh tight- doing your best to hold the bleeding. Gaz was doing is best to help aid your wound as Johnny fished around in the trunk- throwing medical supplies over the seats as he let out a string of curse words and unknown English.

"Fucking-hell Johnny- you curse more than I do- and I am the one bleeding!" You croak out, sweat dripping down your forehead as Kyle fishes out the bullet. John is doing his best to keep the car ride smooth as Simon tries to radio Laswell to only receive silence in return.

Communications were down, Simon is now telling Price off for driving shit as you were about to lose your shit if Kyle did not get this bullet out of you sooner and Soap stopped sounding like a chicken with its head chopped off while flinging himself around in the trunk.

"Hows it going back there Gaz?" Price asks while gripping the steering wheel- your sharp breath intakes of pain are sending guilt flooding down his spine. He should have accounted for the possibility of more hostiles being at the location.

"Oh you know Captain, its going swell- blood and all sorts," Kyle retorts, his hands shaking as he finally gets ahold of the bullet and starts to carefully remove it from your body. The car runs over a hole in the road causing his hand to waver significantly as he apologizes to your groan of pain. The metal tools digging into your skin again.

"Any pain receivers back there Soap- booze... anything?" You ask as your vision turns slightly blurry, your head swimming side to side as the car turns from the ever-growing pressure in your thigh.

"Negative. Can't find anything back here- Simon, you have a torch up there in the glovebox?" Johnny calls out before swearing once more as a piece of gear slams on to his hand. Shaking out the pain a flashlight hits him square in the head- "thanks-mate, much appreciated."

"No problem," Simon replies calmly before testing the radio once more, looking in the rear view mirror in pity as he witnesses your pain without being able to do anything about it.

Kyle fishes the bullet out of your thigh, dropping it into a clear plastic bag before temporarily dressing your wound as you whisper out your thanks, your voice gone horse as the need for sleep overtakes your body.

"Hey, hey, hey. Gotta stay awake for now. Your wound will soon become infected if I can't dress it properly. We haven't got enough supplies in here-" Kyle starts to say before Price cuts him off- taking another sharp turn as you make your way out of the city.

"Anyone know of any places we can stand down for awhile, get their leg done-up?"

The car is met by silence as you groan out, closing your eyes harshly before cursing. Simon turns to look back at you- he knows what you are planning to say before he tilts his head to your opening eyes. Asking if this is really what you were going to do.

You only nod once before looking through the rear-view mirror at Price, "I know a place..."

"Tell me which turn to take next." And before you know it, the last of your secrets withheld from the group are about to fall like a house made of cards.

The sun had began to rise as Price pulls into the dirt driveway. A dull-yellow farmhouse sits atop a hill with a wrap-around porch to add to its charm. Gaz looks out the window and back at you, confused as to why you know of this place- seemingly off-the-grid. You only offer a small bittersweet smile in return before asking him to help you out of the car and to the front door.

Johnny stumbles out of the trunk as Simon pulls him aside, warning his best-mate to keep his outbursts and comments to a lesser state before walking up the front stairs. Soap looks around with squinted eyes, the garden is well-kept as is the exterrior of the home. The lawn freshly mowed as a swing drifts lightly in the wind from under an oak tree just down the hill. A few sets of bikes sit by the garage- painted a farmhouse red as he hears you fumble through your keys kept within your tactical vest.

Swearing out, Simon shoves him once in warning before the door is opneing and the boys soon follow you inside. Dusting off their boots while staring into the space in awe.

"This is not the usual safehouse- what is this place?" Gaz asks you while stepping into the living room and picking up a picture frame from a side-table. He looks at the image intently before turning it to the Captain who clutches the frame in his hands, a softness coating his eyes as he stares at your back.

You are unknowing of their stares as you walk into the kitchen. The sink is flowing as dishes are being stacked on the countertop. A radio plays a distant tune from the sunroom as you wrap your arms around your partner who looks up quickly. Viewing your reflection with theirs as they scream out in suprize. Dropping the plate while drying off their hands- they give you a large hug and kiss on the cheek, you feel as their hands shake against your form.

Price, Johnny, and Kyle all race over to the commotion as Simon leans against the archway to the living-room, his eyes crinkled as he hears feet stirring from up the stairs.

Wrapping your arm around your partners waist, they lean their head on your shoulder before narrowing their eyes playfully at all the new bodies in the home, "And who might these people be, luv?"

"Hmmm, just a couple of strangers from work" you say in a teasing tone before kissing their forehead and casting a smile at Johnny who stands with his mouth-agape.

Price steps forward, your wedding-day picture found back on the table as he extends his hand towards your partner- giving it a light shake while introducing himself. His brain still firing on how you managed to hide this all from him for years. His eyes shift over to your own, his head with a slight tilt as you mouth, not now at the sounds of little feet running down the stairs- calling out your name.

"Mom/dad! you're back-you're back!" they call out, clashing into your legs as you wince out slightly- your wound still open as your partners eyes fall to it in shock before removing the children from you.

Kissing the tops of their heads and giving their hair a slight ruffle. You look over at Simon who stands with his arms crossed by the stairs- someone is a bit disappointed. "I think you forgot to hug Uncle Simon back as well," you tease out as the children jump up and down before tackling the man to the ground.

Shaking your head at the scene as your partner laughs beside you, Kyles cough breaks your focus as he points to your leg, "ah-yes, sweetheart? do you know where the medical kit is?"

"by the sink dear... I will... leave you both to that one," they say with a slight wince escaping their mouth at their ends yet their eyes hold determination- you will be getting an earful of it tonight in bed.

Giving them a wide smile, you crack Gaz one on the back before hobbling over to the kitchen sink once more.

As you exit the room, Kyle following in tow. John speaks to your partner, "Had I have known- I would have never came here. I apologize for barging in on your family."

Your partner looks as the men, throwing a waving hand in their face, "My love did their best to keep this place off the files and databases- that could only last for so long- I suppose. Laswell did her fair-share to help us as well- she knows of our situation all too well..." they trail off- staring at Johnny's freshly inked tattoo with a smile.

"You know- I was very confused when they wanted to get new ink done. Good to see the reason why now- I was always happy to know they had more partners out there. Thank you for making sure they come home to me every time... I-I would never know what to do without them- the kids would say the same."

"It's an honour truly, ma'am/sir, serving by your partners side. Seeing what you both have made here... it only pushes me to work harder in order to obtain the same," Johnny says, a blush coating his cheeks as he feels Simon staring him down from building legos with the kids on the rug. The masked-man gives Soap a nod in gratitude before introducing the kids as your partner moves to clean the upstairs guest rooms.

John exits the house, seemingly overwhelmed by the images and nature of the estate. Looking at the various rolling hills, the flowers drifting in the morning breeze as birds sing in the air. He closes his eyes, standing on the porch- letting off a sigh.

"Everything al'right, John?" Gaz says from the doorway, drying off his hands with a hand-made hand towel. The Captain closes his eyes before turning around to answer, "I think that an old man like me is discovering everything that this job hasn't allowed me to do."

"Cap-" Gaz begins to reply, his eyes falling in worry as he walks over to Price.

"No, no. Its what must be done so others can have lives like this," Price says while shaking his heads and looking off to the side. You yell lunchtime from the kitchen as every flocks to the sunroom overlooking the farm-grounds.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you enjoyed this!

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formulauno98 · 6 months ago

Text

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Six / Tuesday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: 🌶 This one is spicy, 18+ only. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

TUESDAY MORNING

The unexpected interruption jolted you. George's expression hardened, his grip on your hand tightening reflexively before he dropped it and moved to sit down on the bed. You exchanged a quick glance with him before you moved to open the door.

Toto stood in the hallway, his usually composed demeanour now tinged with uncertainty. His eyes met yours, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face, concern, regret and something deeper that you couldn't quite place.

"Can we talk?" Toto asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, aware of George's presence sat on the bed behind you. He remained silent and brooding, his eyes fixed on Toto.

“I’m not sure if now is the best time. Can we talk in the morning?” you asked, knowing that you needed to explain the situation to George and disappearing with Toto would send the wrong message.

After a tense moment, Toto replied, “Fine. I will see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

Closing the door once more, you turned to George to explain yourself further, only to see that he’d flopped down fully clothed, fast asleep.

Sighing, you set about getting ready for bed, knowing that when he woke up in the morning, it was going to be more than awkward.

– – –

You woke up in the warm embrace of George. His touch was gentle, his mind only on one thing as he snuggled closer, his hand caressing the curve of your thigh. A wave of surprise washed over you. Considering what you revealed to him last night, you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Morning beautiful,” he said. A very odd reaction indeed.

"Morning,” you murmured, before adding “You’re perky this morning, do you remember anything from last night?" trying to keep your tone casual.

George groaned softly, shaking his head. "Nope. The last thing I remember is dancing with you. Everything after that is a blur. I couldn’t tell you how we got back here. How about you?”

Guilt gnawed at you. Deciding not to fill him in entirely, you forced a smile. "Things are hazy. Must have been the drinks," You extricated yourself from his embrace, knowing you needed some space to think. "I need a shower, I’m hanging badly," you lied.

“Ugh me too,” said George, “I’ll snooze for a bit, maybe shower after breakfast. I doubt Toto has anything planned for today.”

Nervous at the mention of Toto, you nodded as you disappeared into the bathroom, “Yeah probably not. Everyone drank a lot.”

– – –

Heading to breakfast, hand-in-hand with George, you had a knot in your stomach. The thought of facing Toto was daunting and you weren’t ready for that difficult conversation. A small part of you hoped that he’d be hit with the same alcohol-induced amnesia as George but deep in your heart, you knew it wasn’t the case. He hadn’t been anywhere near as drunk as the others and had appeared sobre when he’d knocked on your cabin door.

As you joined your fellow guests at the breakfast table, it was clear that they were all nursing severe hangovers, worse than the previous morning. James was silently sipping his coffee with a haunted stare, Cara had dark sunglasses on, her head hanging low and John kept rubbing his temples. Marion was nowhere to be seen, presumably too delicate to make an appearance.

Toto, conversely, looked wide awake, alert. “Good morning,” he said, somewhat stiltedly.

“Morning boss,” said George chirpily, causing Toto to raise his eyebrows.

“You’re in fine form this morning,” he said, his eyes not leaving yours as he was clearly trying to suss out whether George was onto him.

“I slept like a baby! I don’t know what was in those drinks but it was some strong stuff,” said George, “I was just saying that I honestly can’t remember how we got back last night.

Toto’s eyebrows raised even further, turning to you, “And do you?”

Stuttering you blinked, “It’s a little blurry here and there.”

“Interesting,” said Toto, still looking at you transfixed, your fellow guests distracted enough by their hangovers that they didn’t clock the awkward interaction.

Throughout breakfast, he continued to look at you with an intensity that made you almost uncomfortable and as George was chatting to James and the plates were being cleared, he asked you in a low tone, “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” you said cooly, “Maybe you can show me the sea kayaks you were telling me about?”

Getting the message, Toto raised his voice, “Ah yes, the sea kayaks, I’ll show you them now and you can take them for a spin later if you’d like?”

‘Great,” you said, your smile not meeting your eyes before turning to your boyfriend, “George, love, Toto mentioned he has some sea kayaks we can take out later. He’s going to show me where they’re stored and how to take them out, is that cool?”

Oblivious, George waved you off without a thought, "Yeah sure, go ahead, sounds cool. I'm going to take a shower in a bit anyway."

– – –

Away from the group, Toto's steely manner shifted, his expression warming considerably. "I kissed you last night," he started, his voice low and apologetic. "I shouldn't have, considering George."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "Yes, I know and I felt guilty. I told George when we got back, but he doesn’t remember."

Toto looked taken aback. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate things or to upset you. I couldn’t help myself though. Have you not felt the same way these last few days?"

His question caught you off guard so you told a white lie, "No. I was too drunk last night to know what was going on. It was just a drunken mistake. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

Disappointment flickered across his face, "Not at all. In that case, I should be the one saying sorry. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. It’s been refreshing to talk with someone not about racing.” he paused for a moment before adding, “But yes, let’s put it down to a drunken mistake."

You nodded again, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Great, well if that’s all, I should go."

You turned and made the great escape before Toto could say anything else. As you made your way back towards your cabin, tears began to fall, what on Earth were you going to do?

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Fully repaired after the storm had damaged the electrics, the yacht had successfully headed back out to sea, setting sail for one last round of the Mediterranean before returning to dock in Port Hercule. You’d had a lazy day spent sunbathing and reading a book, trying to clear your mind.

In the late afternoon, you got up and stretched on the lounger you’d spent the last few hours on. Deciding it was time to get up and do something, you thought a swim might do the trick, "Anyone interested in going for a quick swim before dinner?" you asked the group.

“I don’t think I can physically move.” groaned Cara, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m done for,” said John, equally as lethargically, “We’ll come tomorrow.”

Much to your despair, Toto volunteered, “I’ll come.” he said, sitting up on his lounger.

“George?” you asked, hoping he would join you.

“I’m working on my tan,” he said, stretching out luxuriantly. “Tomorrow I’ll come.”

“No worries,” you said, not able to back out of it. You gathered your things, kissing George on the cheek as you left, "Go. Enjoy." he said, quickly returning to his sunbathing, unbothered.

– – –

Reluctantly, you found yourself alone with Toto once again, diving off the back of the boat, Toto following close behind. You swam out a little way, the tension palpable.

Floating ten metres from the boat, you felt the presence of Toto in the water beside you, "Sorry, I thought George would want to come too.” he said apologetically, “And it was weird to change my mind immediately.”

Your eyes softened, “No, don’t be silly, it’s nice to have some company.”

Toto quirked his eyebrow, “I didn’t get that impression this morning.”

Turning to face the older man, you sighed, “I’m sorry. Last night was… something. It was surprising. That’s all. And I feel guilty because of George…”

Toto looked at you, his eyes full of concern, “I feel guilty too. I shouldn’t have kissed you. George is my employee and my friend but I just couldn’t help myself. As I said this morning, getting to know you has been interesting. It’s the first time in a long time I find myself enjoying talking to someone.”

Surprised by his admission, you weren’t sure how to respond.

Filling the silence, Toto swam a little nearer, his voice dropping low, “Look, one last question and we will never speak of this again. It’s driving me crazy talking like this over and over.” he paused, looking you dead in the eyes, “Do you love him?”

You couldn’t respond. The silence stretched between you, heavy and laden with unspoken feelings. Glancing up at the sun deck as if to check no-one was looking, Toto swam even closer, approaching you gently, one hand gripping your waist, pulling you close to him, and the other caressing your face. "Do you honestly feel nothing?" At that, he leaned in for a kiss, his touch tender, softer than the passion of the night before.

Breaking the kiss, you gazed into his dark eyes, shining warm amber in the late afternoon sun, finding them sincere. “Toto…” you started, before catching his lips once more, wrapping your leg around his torso as he effortlessly kept the two of you afloat with his free arm.

Time froze as you remained locked together, intimately embraced as the waves lapped around you. It was then that you knew. You had fallen out of love with George. George didn’t kiss you like this, he didn’t make your stomach lurch with butterflies. It was too early to tell if you loved Toto - Christ you’d only just gotten to know him, but you knew the potential was there.

The kiss growing more heated, you forced yourself to break apart, “Hang on, we need to stop.”

“Why,” asked Toto, growling as he pulled your leg further up his torso, grinding into you under the water, his growing hardness apparent.

You let out a moan, your heart not wanting to stop but your brain telling you otherwise. “It’s not the place.”

Reluctantly, Toto released your leg, “Sorry, I was getting carried away.”

“Don’t be silly,” you said, reaching up to cup his jaw as you pressed a chaste kiss once more to his lips, “I was too. But we just can’t. Not unless I end things with George.”

Looking somewhat deflected, Toto released you entirely, returning to treading water by your side, “You’re right. This is so not right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, you’d of course heard his infamous “Michael, this is so not right.” during a Grand Prix a few years ago. Realising what he’d said, you were surprised to see his face tinged pink.

“Sorry for laughing,” you said, stopping your giggles, “But look, let’s not do anything stupid.”

“Agreed.” said Toto, his face stoic, “Shall we head back to the boat?”

“Sure,” you said, keeping a careful distance between yourself and Toto as you swam back towards the yacht, your head racing with thoughts.

What you hadn’t clocked was the figure on the sun deck, leaning over the railings, mouth hanging open having witnessed your and Toto’s intimate moment.

TUESDAY EVENING

That evening, dinner was more relaxed, with the group discussing plans for your final day at sea. Plates were filled with delicious food and the air buzzed with an easy camaraderie, the previous nights’ shenanigans well and truly breaking down any remaining airs and graces.

You settled into your seat beside George as he leaned in intently to listen to what Toto was planning for the following day. After what had transpired in the water, you couldn’t quite look the tall Austrian in the eye as he proposed taking the jet skis out for the day.

James nodded in agreement, "Jet skiing sounds fun. We could also set up a race. You know, just for laughs."

Rolling your eyes at the forever competitive older man, you knew George would not be able to resist the idea of a race. As if on cue, he nodded eagerly, “I’m down for a race.”

“Such a surprise,” you said dryly under your breath, Toto smirking at your comment.

Raising an eyebrow, Cara seemed to share your sentiment, "Friendly competition, right? Count me in.”

Sipping her wine, Marion nodded, "Agreed. But maybe first some sunbathing on the deck. I was all for a chilled morning."

Toto clapped his hands together, “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow let’s relax in the morning and a jetski race in the afternoon.”

George agreed enthusiastically, "That sounds fantastic. We could set up a course around that island we passed today. Start here, loop around the buoy near the cliffs, and back."

Nodding, John chimed in, "Yeah and let’s time each other. The winner gets bragging rights for the rest of the trip."

“The rest of the season,” said George mischievously, knowing that he would likely have the edge.

Stroking his chin, James added, "We could add some challenges too, maybe a slalom through some buoys. Keep it interesting."

“Are you guys ever not competitive?” you asked, the men denying it in unison. Shaking your head and laughing, you stole a glance at Toto, noticing his dark eyes lost in thought.

Breaking eye contact, Cara leant across the table to clink her glass with yours, "Here’s to our silly other halves."

Marion raised her glass in tandem, "Cheers to that.” before turning to Toto, “ And to good friends."

Smiling at everyone, Toto raised his glass in turn, "Indeed. Cheers. Thank you for making this week very enjoyable. We needed this break."

You raised your glass, joining the toast to the memories you had made together. As the conversation shifted to other topics, you caught Toto’s eye across the table. He gave you a reassuring smile which you promptly returned. The butterflies were back.

Clearly privy to this moment, Cara suddenly piped up, “So how was your swim earlier?” she turned to you pointedly, “I saw you two out there, it looked like you were having fun.”

The blood drained from your face. No. She couldn’t have seen. Could she?

You exchanged a worried look with Toto, Cara’s face lighting up as she knew it meant that the two of you had been rumbled.

“It was lovely thank you.” you said politely, “Actually, we spotted an interesting island, if you’d like to see it I can show you from the sun deck?”

Catching your drift, Cara nodded, “I would love to, maybe we can head up before dessert comes out?”

“Great idea.” you said firmly, excusing the two of you from the table, George looking a little confused at your sudden departure and Toto shooting you a look as you disappeared up the stairs behind Cara.

– – –

Once you were up on the sun deck, safely out of earshot you turned to Cara.

"Okay, spill it. What's going on?" she asked, “I saw you two canoodling in the water. How can you do this to George? What on earth were you thinking? Has this happened before?”

Feeling overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, you paused before admitting, "I don’t know. Like I told you, things between George and I are… not great. And then last night at the club, Toto and I... we kissed. I don't know what came over me."

Cara listened quietly, her expression turning serious as she processed your confession. Her eyes narrowed, “So then you went in for seconds today?”

“It wasn’t like that.” you said quietly, “I told Toto that we shouldn’t.”

Cara raised a perfectly pencilled brow, “But you did it anyway. Look I will say this once. These things happen, but you need to sort this out. George is a lovely lad, he doesn't deserve to be messed around.”

You nodded, tears welling up, feeling somewhat cathartic after sharing your guilt, “I know. I feel terrible about this."

Seeing your regret, the older woman’s expression softened as she gently put her hand on your arm, "Okay darling, take a deep breath. We'll figure this out. Just... be honest with yourself about what you want and who you want to be with."

You nodded gratefully, thankful for Cara's understanding and support.

"Be careful though," she advised. "Toto is much older than you. You’re probably smitten because of all of this,” she gestured around the yacht, “If you’re not happy with George, end things first. Don’t jump into something with Toto. He’s likely only after a fling. I’ve never known him to be serious about any woman since his divorce and even during his marriage he had a wandering eye."

Her words left you at a loss. Had you misjudged Toto? After all, what kind of man pursues a woman who is already taken? Let alone one taken by someone who works for him.

“I will be,” you said, thankful that the woman seemed to be level-headed. “Thank you, Cara, I hope you don’t think badly of me.”

“Not at all,” she said kindly, “I can see it’s upsetting you, but equally, please be careful.”

You smiled, the warmth of her friendship offering comfort amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you.

She turned suddenly, "Let's head back before they send out a search party. You've got a lot to think about young lady."

“Indeed,” you said, following her back down to the dining table where thankfully the chat was flowing freely once more.

Settling back down in your seat, George barely registered your return so you found yourself once again chatting away with Toto. This time talking about dancing, having shared opinions on the music last night.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” asked Toto, leaning in with a smile.

“Self-taught.” you teased, “How about you?”

He smirked, “Years of practice, I suppose.”

“Well you got moves,” you said with a smile.

“If only you knew,” he said suggestively, dropping his voice so only you would hear, your companions deep in conversation around you, oblivious to the overt flirtation.

Blushing furiously, you tried to steer the conversation back to more innocent territory, “So a jetski race tomorrow huh? Think you have what it takes to win?”

Ever humble, Toto chuckled, “Probably not. George and James will have the edge. Perhaps I can beat John, Cara and Marion. You, I’m not so sure.”

You laughed, “Wanna make another bet?”

“Why not?” Toto asked, amused at your competitive streak.

“If I beat you, you have to jump off the boat and skinny dip tomorrow night.”

Toto quirked his brow, “And if I beat you, you are going to do that?”

You chuckled, not having thought this through, “Hm, maybe not.”

“Why not?” he asked, “It makes the race interesting.”

“Ok, deal.” you said, your eyes sparkling, taking his hand in yours to seal it “I’m ninety per cent sure I’ll beat you anyway.”

“That’s confident,” he said, dropping your hand, “Something you probably don’t know, I used to rally.”

Fuck. Maybe the bet was not so wise after all.

“What are you guys shaking on? Making a bet?” asked George, suddenly noticing your exchange with his boss.

“Yep.” you said, “On who will be faster tomorrow? We all know you’re going to win but for us normal folks, we’re spicing it up.”

George laughed, “I’m not sure about that, a jet ski is a bit different to a car. Besides, you’re much lighter, I reckon you have the weight advantage.”

“Are you calling me fat George?” said Toto, his eyes widened in mock horror.

“No, no.” said George, backtracking, “Well, you’re much taller. And all muscle. Very muscular. Yes not fat. I mean no… not fat.”

The table were now all engaged in your exchange and laughed at George’s furious backpedalling.

“What’s the forfeit?” asked John.

“To be decided,” said Toto tactfully, not wanting to share the true nature of the bet.

“Walking the passerelle?” suggested James with a laugh.

Toto’s eyes sparkled, the irony not lost that James wasn’t far off your wager, bar the nudity clause “Yes, let’s say that.”

– – –

Later that night you found yourself lying in your bed in your cabin, unable to sleep once again, heart pounding with uncertainty. George had quickly drifted off to sleep beside you, wrapped up in the duvet, looking cosy as a bug.

You had to talk to Toto. Despite the easy banter at dinner, the kiss, his confession and Cara's words swam around your mind. With a deep breath, you slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb George. Quietly, you tiptoed across the cabin, pulling on a bathrobe and snuck out into the narrow corridor, trying not to make a noise as the wood beneath your bare feet creaked.

Toto's cabin wasn't far. You navigated the dimly lit hallway, your thoughts racing as you approached his door. With a hesitant hand, you knocked softly, hoping he was still awake.

After a brief moment, the door opened a crack, revealing Toto's silhouette against the soft glow of his cabin lights. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face.

"Can I come in? We need to talk," you said, keeping your voice low, not wanting to wake anyone.

Toto nodded silently and opened the door wider, allowing you to slip inside. The master cabin was spacious and elegantly appointed, a stark contrast to the cozy simplicity of yours. Toto closed the door behind you, the latch clicking softly into place.

You stood awkwardly in front of him, painfully aware that he was wearing nothing apart from a tight pair of boxers. Of course, you’d seen him in swim shorts but this was much more compromising. You gulped, he wasn’t making your life any easier standing there looking like that.

Noticing your awkwardness, he crossed the room, taking a seat on the large bed, “Sit down,” he said, patting a spot next to him, “What's on your mind?"

You perched on the edge of the bed, nerves fluttering in your stomach. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of recent events hanging in the air. You were very much aware of the fact that you were now sitting with a half-naked Toto on a bed. A very handsome, half-naked Toto. One move and you could be back in deep water.

Stealing yourself and meeting Toto’s gaze, you spoke to him from the heart, "Today... what happened between us. I don't know how to explain it. I shouldn't have..."

His voice gentle, Toto surveyed you, "It's okay. We talked about it. You don't need to apologise."

You shook your head, "But I do. Cara saw us. She knows."

Toto looked at you wearily, “You snuck out of bed to come and wake me up and talk about Cara?”

Taken aback, you retorted, “No, what I’m saying is I don’t know what to do. She told me some things about you.”

“Like what?” Toto asked, curious.

You sighed, “Basically she told me to be careful.”

Breathing steadily, Toto looked at you fondly, "And you think she’s right?"

“I don’t know,” you said helplessly, fighting not to react to the fact that Toto was edging nearer to you. "I feel so confused. About everything."

"I understand. These situations are never simple." Toto offered up, his eyes darting down to where your bathrobe was gaping, offering him a view of your skimpy nightdress.

Silence settled between you, the gentle hum of the yacht's engines filling the cabin. Toto's eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of understanding and something more difficult to define.

"What do you want?" he asked breathlessly, leaning closer.

Answering him wordlessly, you brought your lips to his, this time your lips locking in fiery passion.

Breaking the kiss, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said, shaking slightly, not having planned to do this when you’d snuck out of your cabin.

“Well if you insist,” he said, suddenly scooping you up and throwing you back onto the bed so you were now splayed out underneath him, your bathrobe flapping perilously open to reveal your thin cotton nightdress that left little to the imagination.

Dipping down, he kissed along your neck, whispering in his deep voice, “But this has to come off.”

Tugging at the belt, you got flustered as you tried to extricate yourself from the terry-towelling prison, Toto growing impatient and pushing it down off of your shoulders as you finally managed to untie the knot.

Hands exploring everywhere in the heat of the moment, Toto’s hands quickly found your breasts, palming them through your nightdress, setting you on fire. You reached around, clasping one hand around the back of Toto’s neck, pulling him closer, the other grabbing at his broad shoulders.

As you kissed once more, Toto began to grind his hips into yours, his hardness more than apparent as you gyrated underneath him, desperate for contact.

Just as you were starting to find a rhythm you froze suddenly, painfully aware that you were about to cheat on your boyfriend. This was not just so not right, this was downright wrong. You glanced towards the door, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. George was fast asleep in the cabin down the hall, unaware of your clandestine activities.

Noticing your hesitancy, Toto stopped, his hands dropping to your waist, holding you tight. “Are you okay?” he asked, for the first time looking nervous. “If you want to stop we can.”

Torn between feeling guilty and wanting to carry on with what you were doing, you looked up into Toto’s eyes, the warm brown meeting yours with concern.

“I’m more than fine,” you said, leaning up to kiss him once more, too far gone to stop now.

As the kiss deepened, Toto began to divest you fully of your bathrobe, then making quick work of peeling off your nightdress and throwing it wildly behind him, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties underneath him. Shy under his gaze, you shifted a little awkwardly, feeling exposed.

“You.” he kissed your neck, “Are,” he kissed your collarbone, “So,” he kissed your breast, pausing to take your nipple in his teeth, “Beautiful.” he kissed your stomach.

The sensations drove you wild as Toto parted your legs gently and kissed his way lower and lower, from your stomach to your hip, pausing to lift up your legs and pull your underwear off before continuing to kiss you all the way down to where you were now dripping wet.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he said, seemingly mesmerised. He took a moment to gaze with admiration before kissing his way from the inside of your thighs all the way to your core. His tongue lapping gently as he found your sweet spot.

“Fuck.” was all you managed as he went to town, his tongue skillfully swirling, expertly flicking your clit. “Fuck,” you exclaimed again, grabbing a handful of the sheets you were lying on.

Toto came up for air, his eyes almost black with desire, “Tell me how you like it.”

“Keep doing that.” you breathed, never having felt like this before. You felt another pang of guilt. George never did this, never made you feel like this.

His deep laugh rumbling against you, he continued his ministrations before coming up for air. “Sit on my face,” he commanded, his authoritive tone making you blush.

“Huh?” you asked.

“Sit down on my face,” he said, sitting in front of you before twisting around and grabbing your legs so that you were now straddling his face. “Sit down and smother me.”

Bracing yourself against the headboard, you did as he asked, his tone hard to resist. His strong arms held your legs apart and pushed you down, your thighs wrapping around his shoulders as you pushed into his mouth.

It was heaven. His tongue lapped gently, exploring, making your stomach do backflips.

You couldn’t stop moaning and it seemed the more vocal you got, the more enthusiastic he became, pulling you tighter to his face with every grind of your hips.

It wasn’t long before you were seeing stars, his tongue setting you on fire. “Fuck, Toto.” was all you managed to say as he pushed you up, his mouth wet with your pleasure.

“Gladly,” he said, promptly moving your legs off of him, pulling off his boxers and coming up to kneel behind you, his prominent bulge digging into you as he pressed up against you tightly, your legs pulled apart straddling around him as you sat on his lap. “Focus,” he said, lifting you up and teasing you with the tip of his cock.

He continued caressing your breasts, nipping gently at the patch of skin behind your ear as he lazily rubbed up and down, agonisingly slowly. “Toto,” you said, your voice hoarse with need.

“Yes,” he rumbled, right against your ear, “Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck me,” you begged, discontent with his slow teasing.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, lifting you up off his lap once more before easing himself in, taking things slow and pushing in inch by inch to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck.” you breathed, “Fuck, this is nice.” As he bottomed out, you felt full, complete even.

“Nice?” he taunted, nipping at your ear lobe “That’s all?”

“You know what I mean,” you muttered, starting to impatiently move your hips, grinding down onto his lap.

“Is this nice?” he asked, before lifting you up and slamming you back down onto his lap, making you feel as if you were about to be split in two.

“Yes.” you breathed, barely prepared when he did it once more, and then twice “Fuck.”

Slowing down, he pumped up into you, starting to find a rhythm, one hand creeping forward to caress your clit. Oversensitive already, you were almost on the brink from the first touch. “Does that feel good?” he asked, his voice vibrating through you as he continued to thrust in and out.

“Fuck yes,” you said, moving your hips against his, bracing yourself once again on the headboard.

“Hang on,” he said, suddenly pulling out, leaving you disappointedly empty before grabbing you by the waist and flipping you over onto your back.

“I want to see your pretty face,” he said, lining himself up once more, entering you again, this time at a relentless pace, leaning down to kiss you as he found a new, faster rhythm.

All you could do was lay back and try to meet his thrusts, his muscular build pushing you further and further back up the bed.

“Ouch!” you said, as one particular thrust had your head crashing into the headboard.

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” said Toto, slowing down, kissing your head where you’d banged it and impatiently grabbing a pillow to stack behind you, “Sorry, overenthusiastic.”

“I’ll survive,” you said, pulling him down for a deep, sensual kiss.

It wasn’t long before you were reaching your second orgasm of the night, losing yourself in pleasure, your bodies moving as one.

You could sense Toto slowly throbbing slightly, nearing his own high so you slowed down, pre-empting.

“I’ll pull out,” he said kindly, “But I need you to cum for me first. Cum for me.”

Once again, his domineering instructions had you on the precipice and coupled with a few, short, sharp pumps, he pushed you over the edge once more, your entire body shaking as you experienced one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You barely had the chance to recover when he expertly pulled out, tugging a few times before he too found his completion, warmth spreading over your lower stomach.

Collapsing beside you, he leaned across and kissed your forehead before getting up to the bathroom to go and grab a towel. Returning shortly after, he wiped you down gently, making sure to clean up thoroughly before dipping back down to pull you in for a cuddle, his strong arms wrapped around you.

You lay there in content silence before he broke it, “That was… I don’t know. Fuck, you are out of this world.”

Smiling, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting yourself, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Looking pleased by your admission, he drew you in closer, enveloping you from behind. You snuggled contently, not wanting the moment to end but knowing that you had to leave so as to not arouse suspicion. What had you done?

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen

#toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #george russell x reader #George Russell x you #yachtgirlsummer

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cmncisspnandmore · 11 months ago

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Coming home to you: Captain John Price X Reader

Pairing: Captain John Price X Wife reader

Warnings: Slight OOC John (? maybe??), mentions of dead child, mentions of death, typical COD violence. Sad john.

A/N: This is probably going to either be a mini series, or maybe even a whole series. Im not entirely sure yet, but I cant get Farmer!John Price out of my head. So here it is. This first part kinda gives you a look into what I feel like can happen when missions are tough and John is able to come home to someone he trusts completely, what happens behind the scenes.

Word Count: 2412, On the shorter side, mainly setting the scene. next part will be longer.

You toe off your mud caked boots as you pull your hood off. Droplets of rain fall to the dark hardwood floors. Leaving a small puddle on the floor, a deep sigh leaves your lips as you look down at the mud tracks. You had just washed that this morning, which you wouldn't have done if you had watched the weather and knew that you were going to be getting rain and Gale force winds this afternoon.

But while John was gone, you couldn't bring yourself to watch the News. There was always this dreadful turning in your gut when we tried to watch the News when he was on deployment. The kind of anxiety you feel when someone says they need to talk to you. You remember the first time you watched the News after you and John started dating, he was away on deployment. You had sat down on your small couch in your too small flat, curled up with a cup of coffee, and watched the morning News like always. It wasn't until they announced that a Military Helicopter had been shot out of the sky that you started to panic.

You called John 8 times that morning, begging him to pick up the phone, to tell you he wasn't on the helicopter. But he didn't answer once, it wasn't late that night that he finally called you back. Apologizing profusely for not being able to call you sooner, he spent almost 2 hours on the phone with you that night. Shushing you as you sobbed, telling him how you thought he was dead all day. John was patient with you, he explained it wasn't his helicopter that he and his team were safe. He told you how he couldn't receive cell phone reception until they got back to the base they were working out of, and how he was so sorry you went through that.

From that moment on you promised to never watch the news while he was gone, you would wait for someone to tell you personally that something had happened. Because you never wanted to feel that way again. So now during John's deployments, no matter how long, the Tv in the living room remained off.

“Pretty wet out there huh?” A deep voice rumbles, John's shadowy figure leaning against the wall, his boonie hat pulled down shielding his eyes in the dim lighting of the kitchen.

“Bloody Hell!” you gasp, your hand flying up to your chest. Your eyes wide as you look up from your wet shoes. “You scared the hell outta me!” You scold, desperately trying to keep your smile at bay.

John pushes off the wall, his blue eyes trailing up your body as he takes in your wet clothes and hair. “Just now, I didn't mean to scare ya, Sweetheart,” he smiles as he stands in front of you. His tight fitted gray shirt stretched across his broad chest, as he reached forward, pulling you into his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into the center of his chest.

“I missed you so much…” You mumble into the soft fabric, the scent of tobacco and his cologne flooding your senses. The nagging voice that constantly whispered all the terrible things that could happen while John was away finally quieting, as you held onto him.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry I was gone so long… Things didn’t go as planned…” he clears his throat, as he pulls you a little tighter.

You pull back slightly so you can look at his face, in the dim lighting of the kitchen you can see how tired he is. Deep purple bags under his bright blue eyes, his skin a little paler, his usually well kept beard is longer and in need of a trim. “Is everyone okay? Did.. Did they all make it home?” You whisper, one hand coming up to rest along his cheek, your fingers smoothing down some of his facial hair, trying to tame the too long strands.

“They all made it home Baby, Soap is a little worse for wear but he’ll be okay..” he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead. You were always so worried about the members of his team, although they were around your age you were more like a Mother Hen to them. Always fussing over them when you got to see them, even Simon allowed you to fiss over him. Price thought it was funny to see the hulking 6 '4 man follow your orders, you had even convinced him a few times to let you tend to a wound under his mask. He had of course only agreed as long as you did it in a private room so no one outside of the team could see his face.

“How were things around here?” Price asks after a moment, pulling you back into him, tucking your head under his chin.

“It went well for the most part. Although I think something fell on one of the fences in the big back pasture on the edge of the property. I had put the sheep out there a few days ago and Mr. Watson showed up a few hours later with Michelle, his little herding dog and a few of our sheep. He said he found them standing outside his fences by his sheep.”

“Well. first thing in the morning we’ll go out and check the fence line, i’m sure this storm is probably going to do some damage,” He mumbles, as the wind howls against the old farm house. The glass panes on the windows rattle as the wind whips around. Leaves and rain swirling across the ground as it pours down.

After a few moments of listening to the rain and wind, you pull away from John. Reluctantly stepping out of his warm embrace, you pull your wet jumper off, leaving you in nothing but a thin t-shirt. The ends of your hair leave small water droplets on the thin fabric. “I didn't make anything for dinner..” you mutter as you glance around the kitchen, trying to mentally take inventory of what you can throw together for him.

“Don't worry about it, Sweetheart, I’m honestly not that hungry,” John says softly, as he takes his boonie hat off. He tosses it onto the table and runs a hand through his hair, it's slightly longer than the last time you saw him. A little on the wild side much like his beard.

“Are you sure?” You ask, brows furrowing. He was thinner than the last time you saw him, of course he was still a force to be reckoned with. To most people they wouldn't be able to tell that he had probably spent the last few weeks in the field, surviving off MRE’s, but you could. You knew John's body better than anyone. You had a habit of studying him while he was home, constantly trying to burn the memory of him into your brain, in case he didn't come home.

“I’m just exhausted, Sweetheart, I was kind of hoping we could head to bed early.. I just.. I just want to hold you,” he scrubs a hand across his beard, blue eyes burning into you. There was something he wasn't telling you about his last mission, but you knew not to pry. He would tell you when he was ready, and if what he needed right now was to hold you then that's what you would give him. Without a moment of hesitation you lock the back door and grab his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

Even in the dark you could navigate the house with ease, you knew this house better than anyone. Maybe even better than John, with the sheer amount of time you spent cleaning and taking care of the old house while he was away. You did everything in your power to make the house as warm and inviting as possible for when he came back. As you reach the top of the stairs John's hands wrap around your waist. The warmth of his fingers seeping through the fabric of your shirt. He gently guides you towards your room, the door open revealing the spacious bedroom.

It was bigger than the other 2 bedrooms on the second floor, but it was still cozy. The four post bed against the back wall, the bay window on the left that was adorned with soft pillows and fuzzy blankets. A few stacks of books left on the floor, from the last time you sat there and read. The fireplace was stocked with wood and newspaper all ready to be lit. The glass doors open slightly to allow easy access for whoever was to light it. The soft gray duvet laid on the bed, slightly rumpled from where your elderly cat had napped on it during the day. The grumpy old barn cat had decided a few years ago he was going to be an indoor cat.

He had run in one morning and refused to go back out, so now during the day when the sun was out you would often find him lounging on your bed. Basking in the sunlight, until someone came into the room. When night time came around he was often sleeping downstairs on his lavish cat tower you had ordered for him. Soaking up the warmth from the fireplace you usually had lit.

As you walk into the bedroom John quickly releases your waist, crouching down next to the fireplace where he lights the newspaper. After a moment the wood catches and he closes the glass doors, the fire light flickering across his face as he stares into the flames.

“John?” You whisper, coming to stand behind the tall man. Your arms wrap around his waist as you lay your cheek in the space between his shoulder blades.

“Hmm?” John hums quietly, his hands coming to rest over yours.

“I know.. I know you don't like to talk about it..” you pause a moment, “but if you do want to talk about it.. I’m here.”

“I know.. Im..” John fumbles over his words, “I..” his voice cracks.

Your heart breaks as his voice breaks, his shoulders pulling tight as he struggles to contain his emotions. This massive mountain of a man was hurting, and there wasn't anything you could do to help. Your arms tighten around his waist as his breathing grows ragged, his large shoulders shaking slightly as he cries. You don't move, your head resting against his shaking form as you hold him. “Shh… it’s okay… it’s okay…” You whisper, as your own eyes burn with tears.

John has always been calm, cool and collected on the outside. That's what made him a great leader. He was able to compartmentalize in the worst situations. He would never let the members of his team or even his enemies know that something had bothered him. He was ruthless on missions, and straight to the point. He was every bit the hardened soldier he needed to be on the battlefield.

But at home, where he didn't have to be the grumpy superior of his team, he was softer around the edges. He was a man who cared deeply for those close to him. He wasn't a stone wall of impasse, it was here tucked away in the quiet of the countryside that he allowed his walls to come down. He allowed himself to feel the things he locked away while deployed. It was in the soft light of the fire that he showed you the parts of him that enemies would use against him.

John Price was just as much a human as anyone else.

You wanted nothing more than to be able to erase the horrors that plagued him. To chase away all the horrible things he witnessed in the field.t. You stand there for a long while, continuing to whisper soft reassurances to him, your hands pressed flat against his chest as he struggles to pull air into his lungs between sobs. It takes him several minutes to be able to calm down enough to speak again.

“There was a woman… She.. got caught in the crossfire.. She was killed.. Her 6 year old daughter watched. We tried to help her but the girl was just too far gone after everything that happened, when we went back to the small village to look for anything that could give us a clue to where the man we are after went.. I found her.. She was just hanging there…” His voice cracks. “ A 6 year old little girl hung herself after watching her mother die.. And I just keep seeing her hanging there.. So small and lifeless..” He whispers, his voice hoarse as he relives the horrors of finding her.

There's nothing you can say to make him feel better about what happened. There were no magic words that could take it away. There was no way of bringing the little girl back or making the scene erase from his memory. So you just guided him to the bed, having him sit on the edge. Gently pushing his shoulder so he laid on the soft fabric duvet. You climbed over him, curling up into his side, your head resting on his chest as you laid there. Allowing him to hold you against him. His arms wrapped around you, pressing the entire length of your much smaller body against him. The warmth from your body grounding him. John closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I try not to bring this stuff home.. But I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe I was faster.. If I had gotten there just a moment earlier I could've saved her mom.. And in turn saved her. But I wasn't there in time. I wasn't able to help her..” He whispers.

“It's not your fault.. You didn't pull the trigger, you didn't know she would take her own life.. She was 6.. Not many 6 year olds would do that.. But the kids in those places. In the face of constant war and death… they’re sometimes already too far gone. It's not your fault.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I know.. I just need some time.”

“Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Next: Part 2

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

#call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #john x reader #price x reader #Captain price x reader #call of duty x reader #Farmer!Price X reader #Farmer!Price

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nocturnesanomaly · 4 months ago

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Chapter 5: Is your blood authentic?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 5: Is your blood authentic?

Wordcount: 6.1K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, depiction of suicide, self harm, blades

Description: You make plans to finally ship out, getting ever closer to your fate.

A/N: Hope you enjoy my work!

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

Simon has been absolving his distance a lot faster than you can handle.

He did as he promised, tries to go slow and from the beginning, yet the history between the two of you prevent you from feeling like it's a true beginning. It feels like you're both hiding from it, the looming truth over either of you. He doesn't fully know what happened, he doesn't know why your pen pal ship ended.

Even when it had begun it was tense, more distant than you wanted. Yet you clutched onto those letters from him like lifeline, no matter how much it burnt to read them over and over again, to whisper his words out in the night like a prayer.

You had wet those papers with your tears, crushed them, tore them and taped them back together. You had held those papers tightly in your hands, much like how you hold the files on the man you're meant to detain.

"We have to be discreet, if he senses something is up, he could get spooked and skip" Price proposes. He's holding a fat cigar between his lips; the smoke makes you dizzy. When he had originally been gracious enough to ask if it was alright, you had been enough of a sucker to nod your head.

Simon stood beside you in a rigid stance. He had said nothing either, so who were you to deny the captain his bread and butter.

"It's a small-time, close-knit community but new residents aren't foreign, tourists even less so. If we pose as one of them, stay low, don't attract attention nobody should suspect as anything other than another group of careless tourists." You offer up your idea to the room. You wish he would open a window.

Captain Price takes another long drag from his cigar; he keeps the smoke in for so long you think he might actually choke on it before he let's it go. "Hm, not a bad idea, gives us the advantage" his eyes flicker to Simon taking note of his careful gaze towards the scattered plans on the table.

"Ghost?"

You don't know when he turned this quiet. Even when you were kids, he was never the most talkative person in the class, but he was never this brooding. He's honed his focus a lot more over the years, you wish you could say the same for yourself.

You really wish the captain would open his window. Not only is the smoke starting to smell bad, but the smoke is already hazing the already dimly lit office. Meeting this late in the evening hadn't been your ideal choice, but the captain is a busy man as he said.

"If they find us out, we could be overrun quicker than we could defend ourselves" Simon speaks up after a moment of thought, "we have no idea how many they actually have."

"It's a risk we'll have to take if we're meant to make any progress," Price says while still holding clear consideration for the lieutenant’s proposed dilemma. Simon was objectively right, if the collective were to get aggressive it's likely they wouldn't be able to fend them off. Still death was an unlikely scenario, it wouldn't be their first resort.

He doesn't seem keen on the idea either way. "Even with Spider's intel it's a lot of uncertainty, what they have brought is extensive but...not much in the same lane," he glances towards you. His eyes say nothing but his gesture seems almost apologetic. You don't get why.

Most of the intel you brought on the cult was extensive but only scraped the tip of the iceberg. The things you once knew about the cult could have been changed, and most of the things you had on paper got burned when you went into hiding. All you had now was the few official documents that still counted, and your memory that often times don't serve you all that well.

"Spider?" Price asks confused. Your stomach drops. It hadn't even registered in your brain that he had used the nickname in front of a superior. "You two made up then," he smiles.

What.

"We're fine," Simon interjects before you can cast that bewildered glance you so desperately want to, "civil."

"Works for me," Price shrugs his beard creasing in a weird way when he adjusts his smile. "Spider could work for a good callsign, should you ever consider joining up with us again," he proposes. He is getting way ahead of himself.

"Unlikely..." you whisper quietly in response, the word concealed behind a heavy exhale. "We'll need to make our move soon. We don't actually know whether he will be in one town or the other, and if he is how long will he be."

"I'll clear it with Laswell and with any luck we ship out in the evening, there's no use delaying" Price concludes with a nod "can't waste our talents away here when we're needed out there."

Johnny hasn't felt this anxious in a long time. It borders excitement, but he wouldn't dare call it that openly. The promise of actual direction, the promise of being able to do something worthwhile, plus an interesting new recruit with them left him buzzing with newfound energy.

It has him pacing back and forth in his room, still with energy in his muscles even after Simon had dragged him to the gym in an attempt at tiring him out. "Would you calm down," Simon grumbles at him when he continues to pace back and forth.

The mental checklist in Johnny's head kept getting disordered. He had already packed what he needed for mission; it was an indefinite stay so the restrictions on what he could bring was more lax than usual. He doubted they would get much free time between the work they needed to conduct, but he'd be damned if he didn't put in some time to relax with his sketchbook.

There was a lot to keep focus on, a lot to keep track of and with his brain already focused on the wrong things it was difficult to not get into a frustrated confusion. "Johnny," Simon calls out when he doesn't stop.

He still doesn't answer, and keeps walking back and forth between the duffel bag in front of the bed and the dresser in the other side of the room. He needed to recheck his clothes. Did he have enough socks?

"Johnny."

He did have his pen, right? Extras. He should get extras if there was still space. Who knows how long they'd be staying, until they had something more concrete on the target mayhaps, more likely until there was a more finalized outcome on the whole thing.

"MacTavish..."

He really hoped it wouldn't surpass Christmas. His mother would be furious if he didn't make it home, it's been too long since he was able to see her and the rest of the family again, and despite Simon's apprehensions he knew they'd all want to see him too now that they've finally warmed up to each other.

"Hey! MacTavish, come help me."

Like a chord snapping in his brain, he spins on his heel to come plop down to his knees Infront of the bed where Simon has been sitting impatiently. "What is it," he huffs out looking up into his partners eyes. They had a way of being so expressive even behind the mask and the eye black, it had taken him a long time to learn to read them properly.

"Hold it," Simon hands off a small roll of support bandages into his hands. Johnny gives him an unimpressed look. Simon had been struggling with pains in his wrist, which was ironic as that was usually where he ended up himself with excessive drawing.

"Ye should really change it...get this one washed" he scrunches his nose up pretending there was a smell to get the dramatic effect across.

"I'll do it before we go," Simon mumbles and stretches out his wrist so it pops. His mask twists when, as Johnny assumes, he pulls his face into a grimace. "What's on your mind love," he mumbles out afterwards.

"All of it," Johnny huffs nursing the roll in his hands.

"Out of the ordinary?"

"Yeah, just everything about them," he thinks back to you, back to the meeting. You had been an antsy thing ever since he met you. He had chalked it up to you being shy, but later on he realized that wasn't exactly the case. You weren't as much shy as you were just anxious 99 percent of the time.

"Been getting along with them?" Simon reaches out to grab the roll from him again.

"Let me..." he mumbles reaching out to take a hold of Simon's wrist instead. He begins wrapping it around just like how he wants.

"Yeah, I have," he continues. "Ah think anyway..."

"They're difficult," Simon characterizes you rather nonchalant.

"They're new," Johnny corrects him, "they just need a little time, a little push. I still remember what you were like when I first met you, cold bastard"

"I remember you to be a pain my arse" Simon scoffs and turns over his hand so it's easier to wrap the rest of it.

"Still am sir" He answers cheekily.

He finishes the last wrap around his wrist, sealing it with the two little clasps. He watches as Simon retracts his hand, flexing it and almost stretching it too much before he could stop him. He had been there a few times himself; he knew how restrictive it felt, but any rest would do. It would be hard to get more rest for it when they deployed very soon.

"I like them," Johnny perks up again. "They can be charming in their own way; ah don't even have to drag them to lunch anymore they come willingly."

Simon snorts quietly in response, huffing out amused.

"Ah think yer little talk helped them calm down a bit, they seem more relaxed around me and Garrick too. Still tense but..eh...relaxed. Not so much of a laugh that one, but ah think they just need a bit more time, they have a funny side ah can feel it," he says with a light-hearted smirk.

"Lot of hope coming from you, taking a real liking to them then?" Simon asks, little crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes indicating the smirk beneath his mask.

"Can't tell me ye haven't? Used to like 'em something fierce didn't ye?" Johnny turns a suggestive look, one that is only reciprocated by a groan from his partner. He slowly rises off the floor and back to his feet, his knees starting to throb from the harsh wooden panels.

"That was a long time ago," Simon reaches out for him, puts his hands on his hips to pull him closer.

"But you did. They are a cute one, I definitely see the appeal" Johnny lifts a suggestive eyebrow. Though he somehow doubted it would happen, it wouldn't be the first time they had shared a person, it wouldn't be last if it turned out like it always did. For a brief moment he allowed himself to indulge in a pointless fantasy.

"Careful, Johnny. You don't know them like I do."

"Yeah, well ah seem to have a lot of luck with dark, gloomy, emotionally constipated bastards," he says with a smirk on his face. Simon's hands squeeze the meat on his thighs.

"I don't think they're interested in us like that. Don't got half a mind to know what they've been through; they seem very determined to get the job over and done with quick."

Johnny scoffs at that. He had always found it amusing how Simon couldn't see what was right in front of him. He was right that you weren't showing the same interest that Johnny was looking for, but the subtle attention you put into the details of your surroundings was noticeable.

"Ye have no idea how they look at ye then," Johnny blows air out through his nose, "got ways to go in warming up to myself but ye...ye already got them locked in."

"Easy." Simon says his hands traveling up to grab Johnny's wrists. It gets his attention, gets him to pause. "Just..." Simons clears his throat, "Just go easy on them, we don't know how they'd even feel about that. It's hardly professional, and they don't seem enticed in anything that isn't."

"Bit stuck up then?" Johnny mentions cheekily.

His smile drops when Simon gives him a look. "I'll go easy Simon, jus' jokin' around..." he turns his smile warmer, more welcoming to ease the looming anxiety that's no doubt building in his partners chest.

Johnny brings his hands to Simon's shoulders. They glide over them, squeezing at pressure points he knows gets his partner to relax. He trails his hands up, letting them hold the sides of his neck.

He doesn't miss the way Simon's breath hitches. He smiles at it, only satisfied when Simon finally allows himself to close his eyes and release the air in his lungs through a deep sigh. It wouldn't be the first time they would have invited a third into their bed, though he can see how this would be different for Simon.

He's typically not this worked up over a person. Then again this would be the closest Simon had to family that was still left, and he hadn't even been in contact for years. While he had originally meant the suggestion as a joke to lighten the mood, Simon hadn't exactly said no. It got further questions to stir in his mind, he would make sure to get answers one way or another eventually.

"At the end of the day it's jus' a mission like any other," Johnny reassures him, "with them or not."

Simon stirs, leans forward to bury his face in Johnny's stomach. It makes him feel mushy inside. "I'll tell you eventually...everything." Simon mumbles against him.

"I know..." he let's out a soft breath of relief, his arms moving to encircle around Simon's head instead. He leans down to place a kiss on his scalp. "Whenever ye're ready, we've done this before" he reassures him.

By nightfall it's reaching freezing temperatures. None of the clothes on your body is yours, and its warmth feels superficial. The plane is different than what you're used to, not so much packed to the teeth as what you'd have thought. Laswell was already having your new place of residence prepared with everything you needed.

You had always known her to be a resourceful woman. There wasn't much you could ask of her that she wouldn't be able to get you, the only real question was whether she wanted to or not.

Gaz took your bag from you, throwing it with the rest under a couple of seats. He had clearly stopped questioning your lack of belongings, though he seemed to find it no less weird.

"You got everything?" he asks looking you over as if you were supposed to be hiding something beneath your fuzzy jacket. You nod your head, finding no energy to offer him a verbal response.

The rest had already settled in, with their own things tucked neatly away. You didn't miss a lot about the military, but there was something to be said about the clean order enforced.

You walk past Simon and Soap, sparing them half a glance. Their hands are pressed against each other, a sorry attempt at making their affection subtle. You take a seat besides the captain. He's got a beanie on, tucked into a coat looking just as fuzzy as your own.

His eyes are closed, head tilted back, his hands folded neatly in his lap as if he were in a meeting. "You got a problem spider?" he asks amused, sensing your stare. Your chest heats up, your neck too from the sudden rush of blood.

You can't decide whether you dislike the new nickname or not. It sounds weird coming from his mouth; it sounds weird coming from anyone but Simon. It had been something intimate once, then it died along with some old memories, only to be reawakened on the wrong tongue.

"No sir."

You rip your eyes away from him, you could admire his beard from afar. The spiking pain you've been ignoring starts to come back through your nerves when you start to feel something warm and smooth trickle in your palm. Masking your hand with your other, you unwrap the chain from your wrist and pry the little crucifix from your skin. You wipe the fresh blood on your cargos, taking a moment let yourself linger on it.

You're getting closer to the source now, closer than you've been in a long time. There was little chance to back out now, but you knew you still wanted to. The only thing to carry you forward back into the den of wolves were the pure hatred you held for it. You could do little from afar, you needed to get in real close if you were to set it ablaze one last time.

You could already see it in your mind. Another system set on fire, coated in oil and with a single lighter flame, you could burn it all down like you were taught to. You could bring down the hellfire on the right person this time.

"Oh, are ye religious?" the feint Scottish accent pulls you out of your fiery thoughts. You clutch the chain back into the little wound you've created. It stings beautifully.

"No."

Liar, liar, liar.

You tuck it back around your neck, hiding it beneath the layers that feel foreign on your skin. It's heavier than normal.

The chain rests comfortably beneath the military slacks that was just one size too big. Your heart is all the way up in your throat, pounding furiously against your ribcage. You had been ignoring the nausea for the last 10 minutes, but one encouraging clap on your back from a teammate had you bucking over and heaving for air.

You could still hear his mocking laugh at the sight.

When you had finally agreed to join up, you had expected it to be hard but not this excruciating. You'd had at least 10 thoughts of quitting this morning alone. Though you couldn't deny there was a sense of community among your teammates, you also couldn't seem to penetrate the invisible barrier that kept you from being apart of that community.

The sun is blaring atop the blue sky making it hard to see. Sweat dripples down your forehead, you no longer know whether it's from the heat of the sun, or from the drills you've been running the entire morning.

Everybody here had their own layer of cruelty to them. It could loud and brash like the group on base that you always made sure to avoid, or it could be quieter more calculated. Ones you had fallen for more than once before learning your lesson. You tiptoed around it, making yourself just good enough to qualify without standing out terribly much.

"You alright?"

You raise your head to look at her. About the only person you could rely on even a little here. You had joined up around the same time, through the same unconventional way. She had taken notice of you first, practically pushed her way through the crowd to introduce herself to you specifically. The weirdness of it in general was still throwing you off till this day.

"Thanks, Emma...yeah I'll live" you accept her outstretched hand offering support despite not truly needing it. At least she had always been nice, never demanding.

She claps her hand over your back, letting out the sweetest sunshine giggle you've ever heard. It makes you want to barf, yet you can't help but love it all the same. A nice cooling gust of winds pass the two of you, and her hand shoots up in a protective manner for her hair. She was still seeming to struggle with her new hairstyle, long black hair wound up in the tightest bun known to man. How her scalp isn't hurting constantly you have no idea.

"Don't worry, lunch will be here soon, can get some nutrition into you- "

A loud whistle interrupts her and sets everyone into motion. She quickly grabs onto your arm to pull you over in the forming line. You do your best to bite back on the hiss of pain, when her thumb presses down on the bruise beneath your long sleeves.

You straighten your back after she has practically shoved you into formation, eager to have you do it right on time. Her own version of a kind gesture after you came last three times in a row, and got pointed out even more than that.

One of your superiors starts walking down the line with someone else awfully familiar. You keep your eyes straight whenever your superior looks your way, but you manage to catch a glimpse of who he is. The man who got you into the whole thing in the first place. You hold back the excitement in your chest.

He stands tall, a true leader, blonde hair sleeked back and an expression on his face that would send any recruit running. It makes you smile. You had a lot to learn from him, and he had promised to teach you.

Your eyes dart to a furry companion he had brought. A big dog, you think. It looks a little too big to just be a dog, a little too wild for you to trust it wouldn't bite. It walks perfectly in line with him, it's tail swaying slowly behind it. Its coat is beautiful if it wasn't for the giant red cross painted across its head and down it's muzzle.

It has something uneasy stirring in your stomach. You force your gaze back up, catching yourself staring at him, he's staring back. He nods towards you, and sends you a smile that makes your legs feel like jelly.

His office is pristine. Not a single thing out of place, not a speck of dust to be found. It didn't get used often. He was always out travelling between places of God knows where, doing things that was to prepare for His grand plan. Or so he said anyway.

"Come in," he calls on you, your name sweet on his lips like the beckoning echo of weeping angels. He'd finally show you the way, like he had promised in the graveyard turned to ash. His elbows rest on his desk, his chin prepped on top of his folded hands as he regards you with a cold gaze.

You advance without falter in your step, coming to a stop at a more respectable distance. The same overgrown dog was resting in a corner of the room. Its black eyes follow you your every movement, as if just waiting for the command to strike at you.

"I'm not going to waste your time with menial formality," he slides an open convolute across the table, yet it's still too far away to read the small text. A formal invitation he clearly doesn't expect you to actually read.

"You'll be finishing your basic training soon, and what will happen to you next will be decided." He takes a moment to watch your reaction, but you remain stoic, giving him a simple nod in confirmation. "I've made a couple of deals to have you transferred directly under my care for my own initiative. All I need is for you to...agree to it," his tone turns leading, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Ofcourse, I'll agre-"

He speaks your name sternly, cutting you off before you can go on your rant about how you were practically ready to devote your life to this thing, whatever it was.

"I need to know that you'll be in it, truly in it. This new project is unconventional to what you've previously been exposed to. It will test your patience, your willpower, your faith. Do you believe you have the strength for it? Do you believe your blood is authentic? and will you be ready to spill it for the cause being run in His name?"

You nod fast. Too fast.

"Good, I didn't expect anything else from you. You'll be finishing your training here, I believe there may be others among your rank that would be inclined to join our cause as well, I expect you to find them and lead them towards the path."

He looks at you with an unrivalled determination, a fire roaring loud and hot inside him to drive him towards his goal. His expression doesn't leave much room for question or doubt, and before you can even comprehend what you're agreeing to, you take the first real step in.

"Don't worry, I have someone in mind, sir."

It's a little cabin in the distance. Laswell hadn't promised anything luxurious, you were there on "vacation," but you apparently couldn't afford something proper closer to the town itself. Still the sorry thing that tips over in hill in the distance made you want to turn around and walk the 30 minutes back to the plane.

You knew it was going to be an uncomfortable few weeks, if the ache in your body had anything to say for it. You had already declared snow your new mortal enemy in the first ten minutes of walking through the forest and sinking into the ground with each step.

There had already been the expectation and the preparations for a colder climate, but you hadn't expected to have snow up to your midthigh in some areas. Luckily it didn't go that deep near the dedicated paths. Some of them must be irregularly cleaned for tourists.

You've been walking at an irregular pace yourself, getting continuously passed by the others until Simon fell into step with you a few minutes ago. He blends in with his surroundings uncannily, each step he takes is thought out, quieter than the rest. You don't doubt that he's made an impeccable soldier, back in your own prime he'd likely have been able to take you down with minimal struggle, if size was something to go off of.

The fatigue was already starting to enter your legs, your brain fighting hard to not give into any brain fog. You could only hope you wouldn't catch a cold from the drastic change in environment. Price shouts out something you don't quite hear, but you know what he wanted to say. You're finally here.

It looks a lot bigger when you're this close. A one story that makes itself look better than it is by raising its roof higher, giving the illusion of more space when none of it is utilized. Soap and Gaz are getting agitated the more Price struggles with the keys.

Simon comes to a stop a few steps behind you. He's always back there, trekking behind everyone else. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you a little antsy. Price utters a loud curse you haven't heard before when he finally gets the door to budge open.

The five of you seem to have pretty much the same idea of immediately throwing the heavy bags in a big pile on the floor. The fire is already going. Whoever you were renting this from atleast knew a little about hospitality.

"Finally," Gaz groans, stretching out his arms till they give off a nasty pop, going to do the same with his neck.

Soap is the first to go on a little exploration adventure through the living room you stepped into, the open kitchen at the end, and the smaller hallway connected to them both. You had been right, not as big as mistakenly advertised.

"Aye...no food though, going to have to do some shopping asap!" Soap shouts from the kitchen followed by a louder bang, likely having been the fridge door.

You internally thank yourself for packing an extra lunch you could eat as breakfast the morning after, should your stomach allow it.

"Really, this the best Laswell could scrounge up?" Gaz says frustratedly, "I saw at least four better options on the way to this isolated thing."

"Be grateful you get a roof over your head sergeant, it'll do" Price responds in a tone no less frustrated. He didn't seem to be any happier with the place than his subordinate. You couldn't really put fault on either of them, it was far from stellar only the necessities to remain inconspicuous.

Simon acquires the keys from Price, promptly doing his own little surveillance to make sure all the doors and windows had proper locks on them, and that they were in fact locked. You weren't the only one skittish about this place.

"Alright round up everyone, for tonight you are ordered to rest. It's been a long day, I know some of you are weary from the flight," he gives you a pointed look that feels almost accusatory. Soap walks back to little circle you had unintentionally formed, dragging Simon with him by his sleeve on his way.

"We don't have a lot of space to deal with so, Garrick and I will be the taking the smaller room at the end of the hall, Ghost, Soap and Spider can share the bigger one, figure out sleeping arrangements amongst yourselves."

"Only two beds, shouldn't be a problem for you two to share" Gaz says in a joking tone, putting a hand on Soap's shoulder that gets almost immediately shaken off. You keep your eyes to the ground. It wasn't any of your business. You fear they take notice.

"You're grown adults, I expect you to be able to figure it out," Price says already laying the ground rules of don't disturb him today. "I will be turning in, I suggest you all do the same, the real work starts tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah" Simon grumbles in a lower voice than normal, putting a firm hand on Soap's back to steer him away from the conversation before it drags out. Wordlessly you follow them down the hall, keeping a greater distance, at least as much as the narrow way would allow.

"Better not be cramped" Soap grumbles turning the handle and using more force than necessary on the door. It was his lucky day. The room was a lot more spacious than you had imagine it to be, it almost makes you feel bad for the captain and the other sergeant that they didn't opt for this one.

Two beds, two dressers, a big mirror on top of one of them and large windows at the end of the room looking onto the snowy mountains. It was better than you'd had in over a year, you had little to complain about.

Mountains. The mountains. The idea strikes you like a quiet zap of electricity. If the cave systems were still accessible it would be a viable place to investigate. If you knew the cult well, and you did, they were likely going to put the old pathways to use again.

Soap says something you don't catch as he walks over and claims one of the beds for him and Simon. You walk and claim the other one by placing your duffel on top of it. It was going to be weird sleeping next to them, or opposite of them. You could only pray that you wouldn't be visibly weird about it

"Ah guess It won't be so bad," Soap let's out a relieved sigh, finally able to dispose of some of the heavier gear and clothes that kept him warm.

"As Price said, it'll do" Simon agrees with a quiet hum and nod of his head.

Soap starts to roam around the room, opening the closet doors, moving the curtains around, stifling his curiosity the practical way. "Well should do, we have enough space, plenty of closet space for each of us, a damn good scenery out the window, can almost excuse it for a small vacation."

"Going to be far from a vacation this," you chuckle quietly, slightly enthused by his own newfound excitement over your living space.

"We should keep the curtains closed; we're exposed like this" Simon ever so practical walks over tugging on the curtains. He leaves it halfway open to let some light in while the sun was still up. It wouldn't be long before it would descend again and cloak the woods in a thick darkness.

"What do ye reckon is in there?" Soap gestures towards the door behind you. He walks a little close as you turn around to inspect it yourself. You hadn't even noticed it when you first claimed your bed. It's awfully close too, perhaps you could move your bed a bit further away from it so it wouldn't bother you if anyone should go in there, or out of there.

"Don't know...more closet space?" it's meant as a joke but turned away from them you can't see their reactions. You place your hand on the handle. It's ice cold. Your eyebrow furrows. The rest of the room had been comfortably warm, not even chilly despite the icy temperatures outside.

You open the door towards you to take a look inside. You feel your blood run cold. Your body freezing in place. Your hand gripping the handle impossibly tighter.

It's a bathroom. Ugly tile floor, small toilet to the right, sink next to it, shower right in front. You could almost have missed the blood from how well it mixes in with the orange tiles. But it's hard to ignore the body.

Her dead eyes are staring you down. Her last accusatory yet sad words are still on her lips unspoken. Her body is still wet from the water, the blood pooling from her arm mixing in with the water on the floor too. Her naked body is still littered with scars from head to toe. Though the cut going from wrist down her forearm hadn't been meant to add to the collection.

It had been final.

Intentional.

You can feel the glint of metal in the corner of your eyes. You don't need to look down to your feet to know that the blade is there. You can feel the blood coating your own arms, tainting the door handle with your sin.

Do you feel it yet? The pressure?

The shadows pool around her, grasping at her skin, pulling at her flesh.

They'll know. They'll dig dig dig. They'll cast you out to the wolves.

You don't know what she wants with you now, what she wanted with you then. You can't remember, your brain a vast empty space, a mere echo of who she was. There's a chill in your bones, something lost and angry, wanting you to know and answer. You still haven't answered it.

You try to remember her name, her significance to you. A misplaced droplet of blood runs down her forehead. The red complimented her complexion well. It had been her favourite colour.

"Hey.....hey....you okay?" his voice is muffled, far away, in a different reality from yours. He's going to reach you eventually, they all are. They'll see it all eventually, they'll figure it out, distrust you for it, abandon you, punish you.

Soap places his hand on your shoulders and your reflexes fire like a gun. You grab his wrist hard, looking at him with an angered look that only lasts a second before you tuck far away. His eyes widen, guilty entering his features as he removes his hand and puts them up in defeat.

"Woaah, sorry didn't mean to scare ye," he starts off in a gentling tone "ye weren't answering, it's just a bathroom, right?"

"Oh fuck...yeah...I zoned out" you excuse it moving a few steps back. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look back into the bathroom. Orange tile, toilet, sink, shower. She's gone. Soap nods looking in himself, to your luck he seems to let your weird reaction go, yet you can still feel Simon's stare in the back of your neck. You don't turn around to meet it.

You bite your lip, keeping your eyes on the bathroom as if she would appear again. You almost wish that she would, because you know who she is, who she was to you. You've always known, as if you could ever forget it.

Her name had been Emma, and she was the first to die.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @islnd-vybz @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami

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middlingmay · 7 months ago

Text

German!Gale AU Part 2

Part 2 of my headcanons for my German!Gale AU. We deal with language barriers, the resistance, and an opportunity for Gale.

So, now Gale has a fugitive American airman on his hands, and he's not quite sure what to do with it. But he knows, he can feel that this is finally his time to do something rather than enabling others. This is his chance to help someone. That need that always burned in his core to help others, that his dad regularly scolded and beat out of him whenever Gale couldn't quite keep it down in his presence? Well, it was back with a vengeance, and Gale didn't think he was ever going to be able to put it out.

And it's completely inappropriate. There are more important matters at hand, literally life or death, but when he unearths John from the hay cart and ushers him inside, Gale can't help but be bewildered by the sheer amount of hay that can get stuck inside dark curls.

"You look ridiculous," he says with the patchy English he knows. "Like der Löwenzahn."

And John might not know a lick of German beyond the basics the brass drilled into him, but he knows when he's being judged. And if he weren't in so much pain he might be of a mind to get pissy about it, but he can feel a whole hell of a lot now the adrenaline's wearing off.

He tries to scrub a hand through his hair but winces and curses and bites on his lip hard.

"Stay, no," Gale shakes his head and gestures with his hand and John gets the point. "Mein Vater..."

The idea of his father getting his hands on John, and the prize he would be for the Nazi's makes Gale want to vomit.

John gets it and tries to stand. "Got it. Thanks. Just point me to safety and I'll be on my way."

And Gale rolls his eyes because he'd heard American's were dramatic, but trying to embark on a solo expedition across enemy territory is a bit much.

So he pushed John back into his chair.

"Ich habe..." he gesticulates, searching for the words, "time. To fix." He points at John's face.

And so he does, all whilst trying to think of a plan - or a better one that the mad idea that occurred to him almost as soon as John showed up.

He gently cleans the blood of John's face, John who doesn't look away form him once even when Gale hits a particularly sore spot around his eye. And when he's done Gale notices that he's uncovered a wild amount of freckles and doesn't notice he's smiling.

When John asks why, Gale struggles to find the words. "You look, like himmel," Gale points up, meaning the sky. "At night. All spotty."

And John laughs barking, tearing his face from Gale's grip and grins at him. "Yeah, fuck you too."

And he gives John some warm water and a cloth and some privacy. He also fetches him some clothes, a white undershirt and a grey sweater and dark grey trousers, and Gale strives to ignore how well they fit him.

He makes a plan to dispose of John's soiled clothes, but when he goes to take John's jacket - a disgusting, perhaps-it-used-to-be-white, utterly terrible sheepskin thing, John snatches it off him and shoves it on over his fresh clothes.

Gale wrinkles his nose and looks at John like he's stupid and gestures at the patches signifying the US Air Force. And John might blush, but still refuses until Gale hands him a short black overcoat, too.

So Gale ushers them outside, and John manages to stay quiet until Gale gets into a beat up old car. John just leans down to the window.

"What's the plan, Buck?"

And Gale wants to tell him everything - about the resistance, about his father, about his need to do something - but he can't. Not here. So he says, "To keep you alive."

And that does the trick, until they start to get closer to town and John's leg bounces up and down until it's driving Gale crazy and he has to put his hand over to settle it, and miraculously, it does.

"I have friends," he says as he drives. "Der Widerstand, yes?"

No. John just looks at him confused.

"They... no Nazis, ja? They...make trouble for Nazis."

And John's face clears like the summer sky and he slumps back into his seat.

"Are you fucking tellin' me, that of all the farms I could have stumbled upon, I find one part of the goddamn resistance?!"

But Gale hushes him fiercely, paranoid, and corrects him. "Not farm. Not father. Just...me."

And John mutters something about crazy people and no appreciation for my lucky jacket, and follows on Gale's heel when he reaches their destination and deems it safe for them to get out the car.

It's only a few feet to the non-descript door, but they feel like the longest chasm John's had to cross.

A square hatch opens and Gale mutters a word and he's yanking Gale inside.

And a whole bunch of arguing follows and someone shoves Gale and John is up in that fucker's grill before he knows what he's about, and exhausted or not, he drops that sucker on his ass with a busted nose so fast, and the place is silent.

"Now I don't know what you're hollerin' about, but if someone wants to get me back to friendly territory, well. That'd be swell."

Gale gestures at him to take off the overcoat, and the other guys in the room see his air force sheepskin and it's like someone cuts a puppet's strings. Everyone relaxes and the guy on the floor looks embarrassed and if Gale kicks him a little as he walks past them, well. John wasn't gonna snitch.

So they come up with a plan to smuggle John out, and he notices Gale is getting further and further way from him, and John digs his heels in and the guy trying to lead him away jerks back.

"Where are you going?" John says to Gale. "He's coming with me."

And the blood rushes from Gale's face but everyone else seems ecstatic at the idea.

"I can't leave you here, Gale. Those Nazi's will figure out you helped me eventually. So just, come with me."

And Gale hears the others thrilled at having a source connected to the Allied forces: the help they could offer, the resources. And Gale trembles, thinking of all those times he'd thought of escaping his father, and all those times he really wanted to help people, and how he just couldn't, being stuck here.

But he didn't want to swap one prison for another.

"Your - Luftwaffe. They will prison me?"

And John looks angry at the idea and vows, "No they fucking won't," and Karl, the leader of their local resistance group, scribbles a note in the code he used that Gale didn't understand and thrust it into Gale's hand."

"Give this to the commanding officer. It will keep you safe."

And that evening, Gale finds himself in the back of a truck, tucked against American pilot John Egan's side, with no idea of what was ahead of him. He was terrified, and excited, and finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be.

#german!gale #mota #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #buck x bucky #masters of the air #headcanon #alternative universe

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infernalodie · 1 year ago

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hello! could we maybe get some more sarah cameron where the reader is a bit of a hardass, but has a soft spot for sarah — and maybe jj & kiara? the reader is pope’s older brother, so he’s always on pope’s ass for something he did or whatever 🤷. reader is always getting into it with john b because (you can make up whatever) so he steers clear of him, but has to hang out with him during the pogue parties and whatnot. sarah sees the tension, so she’s a buffer and always know ways to calm the reader’s mind - even just glancing to the reader would subdue him for now.

been loving the writing! hope you’re doing alright and staying safe!

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

"𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯' 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳"

Inspo: Russ - ALL TO YOU Keshi - UNDERSTAND

Pairing: Sarah Cameron x Black!Male!reader

Summary: She completed your character...

Warnings: Angst, Haphephobia, fluff, soft smut, bot!reader, top!Sarah Cameron, praise kink, and some fluff.

Words: 5311

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

When Sarah first saw you, she knew that you weren’t like the Pogues at all.

Being the big brother to Pope, you picked up the slack where he fumbled. It had begun to almost become a job for you whenever they showed up at the shop. Scooping Pope up from doing his chores, leaving you yelling and threatening your brother of the consequences.

“Oh, I hope to God that you aren’t about to leave all this shit to me and Dad!” You followed your brother down the dock, hot on your little brother’s heels. Able to spot the HMS Pogue at the end with the same group all occupying the vessel. “Show some damn respect and turn to me when I’m talking to you!

“I promise you I’ll pick up your chores next week,” Pope promised half-heartedly over his shoulder. “There’s this thing going on in Figure Eight. I need to go-”

Before he could continue or step onto the boat, Pope’s arm was grasped and he was yanked away. Forcefully turned to face you and he could finally see the annoyance written on your expression. But to be fair, when weren’t you angry at him? There seemed to be always something for you to be pissed about when it related to him. And having to be put under it since his return home wasn’t exactly the “welcome home” surprise he thought he would get.

“You think I give a shit about what is going on over there?” You barked. “You threw away your scholarship for doing this shit.” You slapped his chest harshly, eliciting a grunt from the young man, rubbing the spot tenderly. “So, you can earn your keep by doing what is asked of you. First: clean this dock.”

Pope pursed his lips. “I have to go-”

Once again, you interrupted him, but you didn’t speak. Grabbing his collar was enough to send the message for him to shut up. But it made the occupiers of the boat finally step in. “Yo, Y/n! Hey, man. You want a sip?” JJ lifted a beer, wiggling it in his grasp as if it would hypnotize you and force you to just forget what made you angry in the first place.

Sparing a glance, you looked back at your brother and let him go. Step toward the blonde and grab the drink and twist the cap off with the assistance of your calloused palms. “What are you guys doing down there anyway? You know people are still pissy about what happened.”

When they got back, they were welcomed back with open arms for discovering the mystery of the treasure. But Kooks still looked down on them and were even jealous. So, your brother's protection was priority number 1. Behind him was him earning his room back after leaving OBX and going missing for so long.

“But when has that ever stopped us?” Kiara questioned, smiling up at you from her spot beside JJ. “I mean, you know us. When have we ever listened to what’s in our best interest?”

You snickered, glancing between the pair. Noticing their interlocked hands. Glancing amongst the other teens, you took notice of Pope’s girlfriend, Kleo. Sweet girl. One that could keep Pope in line when you weren’t there to it yourself. Then Sarah Cameron, who hadn’t removed her eyes from you since she saw you. And you couldn’t quite decipher if she was judging you or something else.

Back when you were their age, you had your own run-ins with the Camerons. Rafe was primarily being a pain in your ass, but Ward was as much of an asshole as his deluded son. So, some part of you had been skeptical when Sarah joined the Pogues. Yet, you knew she was just as responsible as the two other girls.

Then there was John B. A thorn in your side since Pope met him. Pulling each member into problems they didn’t need to get into. The treasure, the mystery of Big John somehow being alive, Ward Cameron–There were too many reasons for you to hate him. And you weren’t afraid of letting it be known to everyone.

For two Pogues from the Cut to hate each other was a very rare occurrence. Rarely did people go to parties and end up witnessing two kids from around the same neighbourhood seeking to kill each other. But for you and John B, there was bad blood. Too much to even keep count.

“John B.”

“Y/n.”

You sipped your drink, staring at the boy. You allowed the tension to build, swallowing the liquid with a hum, and smacking your lips. “I’m guessing you’re pulling them all into this one?”

He forced a smile, leaning against the helm with a smug look on his face as he waved his hand. “They all came willingly,” he countered. “I don’t need to strong-arm them like you do with Pope.”

A deep chuckle fell from your lips as you stared down at your drink. Pope wanted to speak up. He wanted to de-escalate the situation from becoming a full-out brawl that would enable his father to step out and break it up. But he knew better than to step in your path when it came to this rivalry you had with John B. Everyone knew that.

Sniffling softly, you looked up at the boy for a long moment before you tossed the glass bottle at him. It caused everyone to sigh, stepping out of the path with Sarah glancing around in confusion. The looks on their faces; annoyance. It seemed like they knew the drill when it came to something like this except for her.

Sure, she knew had heard faint conversations relating to your existence. You were a hothead. Quick to jump the gun if your mind wasn’t fixated on something. It resulted in you getting expelled from school and being sent to juvie for 7 months. But from what Kiara told her, it just seemed to make your outbursts more regular than normal.

But her cluelessness and lack of just letting two guys fight it out showed when John B grabbed the bottle and pulled his arm back, making her jump up into action. “John B, stop!” But before she could restrict his arm, he whipped it at you. You raised your arm, the bottle coincidentally hitting your watch, causing the bottle to shatter. Glass shards delving deep into your coffee bean-toned skin. Sarah stared at the injuries in shock, face twisting in anger as she turned her eyes toward John B. “What the fuck, John B?”

Despite the injuries and the faint pinch of pain, you growled in annoyance. “Well, I’ll tell you what, JB.” You scanned your arm, plucking the tiny shards from your skin, plucking them out with a grunt. “I’m surprised your Dad didn’t teach you how to fight before he died. Raised a real brat.”

That was enough for John B to finally move from the helm. Damn near launching himself off the boat at you. But Sarah and JJ were quick to stop him, restraining him and pulling back.

Whenever it came to either you or John B, insults were almost limitless. He insulted your inability to get into the military because of your mental issues. And you weren’t afraid to mention that maybe his mother, who abandoned him, would’ve done better than his pitiful excuse of a father. Usually, a group of guys could joke like that and know there wasn’t anything malicious. But John B had enough reasons to hate you and you felt the same for him. There wasn’t any room for respect to be held for you two.

And everyone in the group was used to it now. From the countless bickering matches to the fist fights that have occurred. They genuinely had lost all hope of stopping either of you. Sarah, this being her first time experiencing it, was so lost and bewildered by such childish emotions.

Clearing your voice, you glanced at her for a moment. It had only been a moment. But it felt a whole lot longer than that. She could see the e/c in your eyes that glowed brightly under the warm glow of the sun. The faint bristles of facial hair rose from your jaw and a scar that ran over the right side of your top and bottom lip. It was narrow like a blade had glided over the plump mounds. It suited you.

“Sarah, can I talk to you for a moment?” Her being called upon made her blink a few times. Shaking from her daze, glancing at Kiara who understood and took her place in holding John B back. Whispering hushed words in an attempt to calm her friend down.

Hopping off the boat, she walked to where you stood by your brother, hands on your hips. It broadened your shoulders and made you stand taller and wider in the stance. “I need you to keep an eye on this little shit, alright-”

“I’m not a child, man!” Pope whined, slapping your finger that was pressed to his forehead.

“Bullshit!” You laughed. “I’m not letting you go missing again. In return, I’ll take up your offer. All my chores are yours next week. I don’t care if pissy pants over there needs you, you do my shit. Or your ass is 6 feet underneath.” Pope pursed his lips, seeming to contemplate whether the decision was good. It made you flick his ear, making him yelp, groaning in pain. “Got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah.” Pope waved you off, stepping onto the HMS Pogue and taking his spot beside Kleo.

Which left you to look down at Sarah. “Keep him, Kiara, JJ, and Kleo out of trouble, alright? I don’t know if you are dating John B still, but I don’t trust him after everything,” you explained, huffing a breath with your hands finding their places on your hips.

Yet, through the simple request, she couldn’t help but think of your well-being. “Are you alright?” She motioned toward the wounds on your arm, slowly leaking droplets of blood that seeped through the cracks of your skin.

She attempted to reach out, fingertips just barely brushing against your skin before you recoiled. You clenched your jaw, Adam’s apple bobbing as you kept her gaze. “Just keep an eye on them, alright?” As you were about to make your way back to the shop, you stopped short and turned to her. Leaning down and whisper, “And it isn’t nice to stare, Sarah Cameron.”

And she wasn’t given a chance to respond or make up an excuse because you were already marching up the dock toward the shop. Likely to pick up the work Pope left for you.

That was the first encounter Sarah had with you. But as more time went by and the more the two of you interacted with one another, she learned more about what type of person you were. You were an easily aggravated person. In certain cases, she found it adorable. Especially when she scolded you, hearing you grumble in annoyance, but follow her order.

Your presence and attendance at parties became more common than the occasional task of keeping an eye on your brother, an order given by your parents. You came voluntarily but spent most of your time sitting with Kiara and JJ, sharing some quiet hushed talk. Those were the only moments Sarah saw you smile. Where you finally showed a side of you that she wasn’t entirely used to.

Tonight, that was no different. The Boneyard was filled with kids from either side of the island. You were leaning against a log, listening to some conversation happening with some guys that you guessed were some of your friends. They all looked to be around your age, same work-worn expressions from hard labour. Yet, out of all of them, they didn’t look as good as you.

In the few months of you accompanying the group, she had developed some sort of crush on you. The moments when you were too busy messing around with JJ, she liked to just stare. Take in the beauty that you were given. From the hardened features of your face, the glow of your skin under the sun and campfire, to the minor ticks you had. Like, when you were listening intently to a conversation, your lips parted and your tongue peeked out from between slightly. Or how you sometimes covered your mouth when you laughed. As if someone would judge how you looked when you showed such emotion.

These little things set you apart from any of the other guys she had encountered. When no one was paying attention, you were present. You looked up at the birds that flew past. You gave people you cared about the attention you wanted in return. You went to lengths to just chek in on someone. And she would know considering she saw you breaking down Kiara’s door to just ask if she felt alright when she was sick. Although that last one was a bit alarming, it showed a side of you that she wasn’t sure John B ever could consider.

And even now, being around people she knew you wouldn’t talk to in a normal setting, you gave them your attention. It was surprising to her.

“Are you just going to stare at him or actually make a move?” Kleo’s voice scared Sarah, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the girl.

“What the hell, Kleo?” Sarah said in exasperation. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

But the girl didn’t seem to show any type of remorse, nodding in your direction. “You going to do it or dance around it all day?”

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and looked toward you. Still in the depths of conversing with your friends. A faint smile presses to your lips as you lift your bottle of beer to your lips.

“Has he always been like that?” She inquired, glancing at her friend. “Like, any of the times you’ve had dinner with his and Pope’s parents?” She iterated.

Kleo stood there for a second, crossing her arms over her chest. The look of thought crossing over her face was apparent to Sarah. But when Kleo reach a response, she shrugged. “He was like this before Pope and I ever got together or even before you appeared in the Pogue's lives,” she responded, looking at the blonde. “Pope’s told me a lot about Y/n and his problems and I don’t blame him for being so damn hostile with John B, who in my opinion is completely deserving of it.”

That created more intrigue for Sarah who was already invested in whatever you gave away. When she first met you, she wanted to know more about your process in the military. But judging by John B using it as something to spit out at you, she guessed it was a sensitive topic. Or your repulsion from touch. You hated it. Even when Pope tried to do something brotherly to tease you like wrap his around your shoulders, you shoved him away willingly.

There were just a lot of question marks that surrounded you that Sarah wanted to pluck from the ground to get closer to you.

A commotion pulled Sarah from her thoughts. Spotting you standing behind a few of your friends with John B spouting out incoherent insults. But whatever he was saying was pissing you. Face twisting in anger as you tried to move around the growing crowd. Your entire goal was to attack John B who could barely stand on his own two feet.

It pulled a groan from Sarah’s chest. “Y/n!” Her voice made you snap your head up, looking in her direction. She raised a brow, lips slowly morphing into a smile. For a second, it made you release the tension in your arms. Allowing yourself to step back and try to exit the altercation and move in her direction.

But John B being drunk had to spout something that finally broke the restraint in you.

“Yeah, go to Sarah! We all know you need my ex to come save you, pussy!”

And you didn’t know if it was simply the fact that your ego was hit or that John B was so clueless, but you exploded. Sprinting and shoving people to try and get at the arrogant little shit. There were so many voices that it became just a jumbled scramble to try and stop you from killing the drunk Pogue.

But it was only Sarah appearing, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you away. And it was the shock that made it so easy for her to pull you back. It was the shock that allowed her to grab you by the hand and march you in the direction of where the vehicles were parked.

Listen, you were used to Sarah. Her voice, her presence, her energy- all of it! But her touch was something you weren’t accustomed to. It was a brief jumpstart to your heart that you hadn’t even believed you needed. But it got your blood flowing. It made you feel something other than the countless emotions flowing through his system. All of them aided by the consumption of alcohol. Yet, her soft hands seemed to melt through the fabric of your shirt and heat your body up. Its scalding warmth brought you down to reality and placed you in the present where you willingly held her hand and allowed her to guide you back to your car.

This wasn’t normal in any certain circumstance. You broke a kid’s arm in juvie for even grazing you with his finger. But she didn’t care. Then again, maybe it was just the morals and expectations of man that prevented you from reacting how you usually would. But you felt safe under her touch.

By the time the two of you got back to your Jeep, you had broken the physical contact and followed behind her a few steps. Wordlessly understanding that she might’ve stopped liking the party and silently requested you to take her home.

“Let’s go back to the Chateau,” she answered, discrediting your prior assumption. But you followed her order obediently. Putting the vehicle in drive and pulling from the make-shift parking lot made of dirt and sand.

The drive was slow and quiet. With the roof off and doors taken off, the wind nipped through the air and froze exposed pieces of skin. Yet, the stereo playing Frank Ocean, the moon hung high and gave a semblance of comfort amidst the disorder, it was perfect. And feeling Sarah’s eyes carefully take in your features, that familiar fuzziness in your chest formed bigger.

It was a tangle. Mixed emotions to mixed communication. You didn’t know what to think. You knew how you felt, but what did that mean to her? Did she share the same fondness and genuine attraction you had for her?

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the constant thoughts. Or maybe it was you taking in reality for once. But you wiped your eyes, allowing the consoling strings of White Ferrari to take your mind elsewhere. Somewhere you allowed your imagination to run free with fantasies that felt more and more hypothetical.

Arriving at the Chateau, the two of you hopped out of the vehicle and made your way to the house. Sarah followed behind you, quietly wondering how you seemed to know your way around the premises. And when the two of you stepped on the deck, shutting the screen door, you motioned for her to take a seat on the couch out front. She listened, letting her gaze follow you through the window as you stepped over the garbage until you reached the fridge, grabbing two beers.

“I can’t understand how you even dated him,” was the first thing that slipped past your lips when you came back outside. Sarah’s face twisted in confusion and you collapsed in the open spot beside her. “What I mean is, you’re a rich girl. Hanging out with an arrogant, annoying, slimy, egotistical-”

“All right. All right, I get it.” She laughed. “But I dated him because I liked him. I guess as time went on, I realized that I dated him based on the fact that we were in the same situation and always together.”

You hummed. “So, you just kinda forced yourself into it? Seems kinda disingenuous.”

That earned a swift slap from Sarah, who blushed. But the action made you flinch, shifting away slightly. Sarah’s smile slightly faltered as she pointed at you. “That.”

Her one-word reply made you frown. “What?”

“That! What is that? Why don’t you like being touched?” She questioned.

No one had really asked you that. Truthfully, most people weren’t able to get close enough to pick up on your phobia. That or you hid it pretty well by fighting people. And although you can touch people, feeling other people touch you sent chills down your spine. Like a brand pressing to your skin and leaving their mark forever.

You’ve hated it since you were born.

Biting your bottom lip, you exhaled heavily. Head bowed slightly with a gentle sway of your body. “It’s called Haphephobia,” you muttered. “I-I can’t stand human touch.” You clenched your jaw, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I have no problem hurting someone, but anything else outside of that intention is impossible. I can’t hug my parents or brother. I can’t be intimate. I can’t comfort anyone. I-I can’t be normal.”

Sarah was quiet for a few moments, allowing the confession to sink in. Until she lifted her gaze from her beer to you. “Is that why you couldn’t do the army?”

That made you laugh, shaking your head. “Uh, no. That was actually just my psych evaluation. A lot goes on in my head and they didn’t see it as a chance they wanted to take,” you explained with a bittersweet tone.

You did seem a bit preoccupied in your thoughts a lot of the times you have spent with her and the pogues. Drifting off into open space along the bow of the HMS Pogue. Or sitting out on the dock at The Wreck. Staring out at the barely noticeable coastline in Figure Eight. But you also looked at peace when those intrinsic trances passed over. And if it was the opposite, you didn’t give anything away.

She shifted closer to you. The movement was obscured by the constant thoughts racing through your buffering mind. From exhaustion to the consumption of alcohol, it became harder to focus on your surroundings.

But it was until you felt her hand press to your chest. It made you flinch, looking down at the placement and attempting to shift away. “Sarah-”

“I’m never going to hurt you, Y/n,” she reassured gently. You believed her, but the touch was warm. Much like before, you enjoyed it, but it was intensified now. Maybe from the toxins you’ve put in your body tonight, but it fell under too much. “I want to be able to hold you.” Her hand smoothly and slowly went down to your stomach, able to feel the divots of muscle beneath the shirt. She wished she could say she was also intoxicated and she wasn’t thinking clearly, but she was. It was solely desire flaring her thoughts and dictating her actions. Yet, it was pure. “To touch you.”

You tilted your head, eyes clamping shut in hopes that your uncomfortable expression would be enough to get the message across. But she didn’t. Her hand went further down until she snuck underneath your shirt. It felt oddly comforting once your mind began to slow and your body became accustomed to her. And once that happened, you were melting beneath her.

Her smooth palms meeting your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and when she added her other hand, the feeling grew. “Sarah, stop- Fuck!” You breathed in exasperation, a muffled moan slipping past your lips when your nipples slipped between her fingers. The slight squeeze made a chill run down your spine. Face growing hot as you avert your gaze to the side, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

She smiled, damn near pressing her chest to yours, chuckling softly. Her hands moved across the expanse of your chest, soaking up every little detail of your sable-toned body. “But seeing you like this, God, I want to ruin you.”

It was all too much. Her words. The intention of them. Her touch. Burning into flesh and marking you for life. And the way her right hand drifted further down, breaking past the hem of your shorts, everything was on fire.

When her hand wrapped around your hardened cock, you let out a sound. One that you never thought possible for yourself. And undoubtedly, you tried to brush past it with a cough. But you should’ve known better than for Sarah Cameron to leave it at that. She tilted her head, lips curving into a grin, wrist slowly flicking to stroke.

“Did you whimper, baby?” Sarah teased, eyes half-lidded with their focus placed on your very own. Content on watching them part and tremble faintly as you tried to hold back the noises from slipping past your lips.

“Shut up,” you panted, hands gripping the couch for dear life. Sarah found it all too adorable that you, a strong, tall, intimidating guy were crumbling under her touch. Even though it inflated her ego it turned her on. How much more could she could before you finish? Would she be able to hear you whisper out her name?”

She had control. You were falling apart in her hands. And she was going to take full advantage of it.

Time was lost upon the first hour. Had it been an hour? It was hard to tell at this point. With your arms bound above your head, mouth gagged by Sarah’s panties, and her pussy hugging your abused cock. It all numbed your thoughts.

All you could focus on was the girl hovering over you. Hands sprawled across your stomach. Applying enough to keep her stable as she bounced on your cock. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth with her gaze unwavering.

She’d wanted to ruin you after all and she was succeeding.

Through moans, Sarah managed to pant out, “You look so fucking good like this, Y/n. Everything I imagined.”

Strands of her hair fell in front of her eyes, but it did not hide the predatory nature that took hold of her. A completely different look on her. It made you wonder how many people have seen this side of her. Or if anyone had given her this much control. Either way, this felt oddly intimate. Maybe a bit special. But after all, this is your first time and you can’t figure out how many times she’s replaced a condom to only put a new one on.

She was using you as she wished and something in you enjoyed it.

You felt loved. Not that you hadn’t felt it before but this was different. Vastly different from your parents or your brother showing their appreciation. But this was with someone you never imagined being this close with. She was under your skin in every pleasing way possible.

And you loved it.

Her velvety walls fluttered around you, squeezing with each drop of her body. Moans flourished from her lips and filled the living room of the Chateau. Despite the possessive nature she had, she was still soft in her touch. Careful to show you no harm, just as she promised. And you melted beneath her. Whatever hold you had before being tied down is now lost with groans and whimpers falling from your own lips.

Sarah couldn’t help but smile.

Her hands slowly moved up your stomach, past your chest and finally your cheeks. You exhaled shakily, uneven gaze meeting her passionate one. Two polar opposites in the act of intimacy, tet, both present. “You are beautiful, Y/n.”

And for the first time, you initiated the kiss. Lifting your head to press your lips to hers, tilting your in an attempt to deepen it. The only experience you had was the brief kisses Sarah shared with you after she tied you. Teasing you till you were panting. So, you tried to replicate it and understandably, Sarah was amused.

She rocked her hips gently, keeping her lips pressed against yours. Swallowing your moans greedily. Able to feel your cock twitch inside of her, signalling a familiar release A release she craved every time she experienced it.

But when you did, she parted, allowing you to catch your breath. Hovering over you, watching a sweat droplet slide from your hairline and down your temple. Carefully, she sat up just enough for you to slip out of her. You hissed, sensitive and she was quick to comfort you with delicate kisses across your cheek.

Cleaning you up and untying you, Sarah soon lay sprawled across your chest. A thin blanket keeping the two of you covered with body warmth is the main source of comfort. She listened to your heartbeat against your chest. Its tempo became a slow constance that she relied on to allow exhaustion to take hold.

“I don’t want to be another John B, Sarah.”

It was the first time she’d heard your voice in the past few hours. The wavering of each word had her looking up, finding your tired gaze focused on the ceiling. Unable to meet her own which was full of confusion.

“I don’t want to be something you force yourself into,” you whispered, scared to even think that after all this time, she was just wanting sex. “And if it is something like that, then tell me so I can go home.”

Sarah could see the fear in your eyes. How you blinked rapidly, hoping it hid the emotion you never dared to show. The first inkling that there was something deep within you that wished to flourish. An ulterior presence that could rival your usual disposition. It seemed like that’s what you hoped the military could give, but once that fell through you kinda gave up. Bidding farewell to the idea of completion for yourself.

But ever since you started spending quality time with the Pogues, there was something that shifted inside you. A sense of belonging almost. Sarah had seen it first-hand and it was beautiful. She found it with the Pogues, much like you seemed to have. Besides John B, you loved each member of the group.

Sitting up slightly, Sarah softly traced shapes into your chest. It drew your attention from the ceiling to follow her finger.“You’re the first guy that feels genuine with me. You’ve expressed yourself more than Topper and John B ever have,” Sarah said. “It’s all I ever wanted from someone who I date.”

Clearing her throat, she sniffled. “I guess what I’m saying is that for the first time in any of my relationships, I don’t feel like there is something internal fighting for what I think is right for me,” she explained. “And I think I finally found someone that I could share years with.”

The confession was followed by pressing her lips to your chest before laying her head on your chest. “I want everything and more with you, Y/n.”

Love.

That was the feeling you have been feeling. An unconditional, unmoving, everlasting love. Because love wasn’t a choice. It’s the feeling. A force only you can describe as it is unique. Like a memory only you can think back on and know from your perspective.

And you felt it the moment you saw Sarah Cameron.

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lisbeth-kk · 8 months ago

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Sherlock fandom

Big Brother’s Observations

Since the day I held Sherlock in my arms for the first time, I loved him fiercely and I instantly wanted to keep him out of harm’s way, whatever the cost. I was only seven years at the time, but I tried my best to keep my promise.

At first, it was easy. Child’s play, so to speak. He followed me with his eyes, always smiling, filling my chest with warmth and joy. When he learnt to walk, he never let me out of his sight. Where I went, he was close behind.

I taught him everything I knew about nature; biology, geology, meteorology, when we were outdoors, mathematics, languages, history, geography and logic reasoning when the weather was bad, and we stayed in Father’s library or in my room. He was like a sponge, and it became quite clear that he was above average intelligence; just like me.

However, there was a big difference in our personalities. Where I avoided other people, Sherlock couldn’t get enough of studying and talking to others. For a while…

The other difference between us was sentiment. He was full of it, I was empty, apart from my undying love for my brother. I told him he would get hurt if he wasn’t on the alert. He was naïve and always thought every person was good and meant well. For a while…

***

My heart broke several times during the years, and in the centre of it was Sherlock. His tears and sobbing were unbearable to witness.

“Why do they hate me, Myc?” he cried so many times, I lost count.

“You must stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, Sherlock,” I told him. “Everyone will take the opportunity to hurt you if they know you’ll react like this. There doesn’t need to be a reason other than they want to see you cry. People are evil like that. Sentiment is never an advantage, brother mine.”

He wouldn’t believe me. Not at first. It was a hard lesson for him, and I hated every single person who dared to give my brother such a difficult time, but finally he managed to put up an armour of indifference. I knew how much effort it was for him to maintain it, because I caught him more than once crying himself to sleep after the more trying days.

When he started university, the contact between us was sparse at best, but I kept my eyes on him of course. Alas, I was unable to foresee and stop his drug addiction before it was too late. By then he hated the sight of me, which broke my heart in a totally different way. He turned his back on the one person who wished him well. It was a blind spot he dealt with for years, put there by me.

***

I couldn’t believe my luck when Sherlock met Gregory Lestrade of New Scotland Yard. The detective saw Sherlock’s potential and promised him work if he got clean, which he achieved in record time.

Despite the trust Lestrade put in Sherlock, my brother didn’t trust him fully. The police wanted results, which Sherlock was able to give, but it ended there. Lestrade was no friend in Sherlock’s eyes. He just used Sherlock for work, nothing more. My brother failed to see that the detective cared for him outside of crime scenes. He didn’t even bother learning Lestrade’s Christian name.

***

I saw a crack in my brother’s armour the day he realised that John had killed a man to save his life, mere hours after they’d met. When I mentioned it, Sherlock waved it off as John’s need for danger, excitement and his military background, but I observed a second of insecurity. It vanished soon enough.

My instincts when I met John Watson for the first time, told me he could be just what my brother needed, or quite the opposite. His loyalty baffled me, but spoke volumes, and it increased for every passing day. He protected Sherlock just like I had done decades ago. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think of that. Of course, I wanted my brother to be cared for and kept safe from the criminals he recklessly chased through London, but it should be me doing that. Letting go and placing my trust in an ex-army doctor with PTSD and a passion for danger, wasn’t exactly what I preferred, but it seemed I didn’t have much saying in the matter. John Watson was Sherlock’s confidant and friend now, and I should be glad, but my treacherous heart ached for the loss of my brother’s trust and love.

When it became clear to me how John felt about Sherlock, I prayed to the universe to let Sherlock’s blind spot disappear. It had finally happened; there was a way for Sherlock to gain happiness and love after all, and perhaps his hostility towards me would dissipate a little if he felt content and loved. My prayers weren’t heard, and John was too scared to jeopardise their precious friendship to pursue the matter.

***

I never dreamt of that an Irish criminal mastermind should be the answer. When Moriarty kidnapped John Watson and Sherlock realised he might lose John when he emerged with that bomb vest strapped to his chest at the pool, the blind spot instantly vanished. When the danger was over, John had proved that he would sacrifice himself so that Sherlock could live.

“My life isn’t worth living without you, John,” I heard Sherlock say in the surveillance video.

I had ushered my men out of the room and watched the scene alone. It was a private moment I didn’t want anyone else to witness, and I turned off the recording once I was sure both men were safe and had finally confessed their love.

My mission was far from over, but my faith in John’s capability to keep my brother as safe as possible, was absolute.

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#flash fiction friday #sherlock fandom #mycroft holmes #sherlock #john watson #greg lestrade #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #johnlock #FFF247 #blind spot

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bladekindeyewear · 2 months ago

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-10-08

(Previous post - current page 666)

Just caught the tweet announcing an Update as soon it went up! From the look of the log it seems we're moving on, unless there was an addition to p666 which I doubt since they would have warned people to update their cache in the tweet or what have you. So it's time to finally move on from this page, I'm clicking that Next button!

I get the feeling from the log moving onward that this situation isn't going to be resolved in the next page, and we're either going to cut back later... or cut back to Vriska emerging from the Plot Point from John and the others' perspective, because we know she only has one thing left to do. (Other than the question of exactly how she's leaving there, which I assumed would be something special rather than the Plot Point simply "running out of time".)

(==>)

Yep, the resolution with Vriska is coming later.

ROSE: This is an impressive shield. ROSE: I don't think I've ever seen you make one this size before. JADE: ive been practicing! JADE: if i stay focused i should be able to keep it up for quite a while.

Oh heck I didn't notice, that's a cool-ass green Spacey shield with a Space symbol on it! That ought to be a tough nut to crack with any weaponry! (Is she protecting the ship, or the rebel forces maybe? The bubble doesn't seem to be wrapped around the meteor.)

ROSE: Honestly, if it gets to be too much of a hassle, we should be fine as long as the kids stay inside. ROSE: This ship was specifically designed to take a battering. JADE: from artillery maybe JADE: but who knows what kind of other nasty weapons jane has tucked away in her diabolical business pantsuit! JADE: its not like she tells jake everything JADE: or almost anything, really JADE: when it comes to the kids id rather be safe than sorry ROSE: Sure.

Ohh, of course they're shielding the ship, especially the part containing the children. A good chance they won't just stay inside though, especially given this caveat being announced-- though whether they can or can't get through Jade's shield is a different story, unless they break out some new powers or the ship's possible transportalizers.

JADE: by the way JADE: i saw kanaya leave earlier ROSE: She's meeting Karkat on the field. JADE: without you? ROSE: Yes. ROSE: She made it pretty clear that it wouldn't be wise for me to join her. JADE: oh... ROSE: Mhm. ROSE: Some barb about the danger of me "Being Maimed Quite Viciously" on account of all humans looking the same once the bloodshed begins. ROSE: Then she shot me a peace sign and walked away. JADE: ugh, im sorry rose :(

Yeah, Kanaya's off working out some SERIOUS stress most likely. And Rose was very awful pulling that Sapphire future vision excuse to avoid contending with the emotions of the present, to "stop trying" with her. Hopefully someone or something lights some sense under her ass, maybe something to do with the children and them going off to do something dangerous simply because Rose hadn't bothered with the trouble of discussing more of the live situation with them... I dunno. She clearly needs something jarred loose about her attitude, if what Jade said earlier didn't explicitly do it. Maybe Jade can help more right now?

JADE: this should never have happened JADE: between yiffys capture and rescue and finding dave... JADE: like that... JADE: i just feel like my life flashed before my eyes and it made me a little crazy! JADE: after being unconscious for a bit things feel way clearer now ROSE: Nothing beats a rump to the skull for mental clarity.

Oh my god, Tavros actually knocked her out cold when he fell from the ceiling?! (And I'm reminded again that she was carrying the stuffed corpse or arm of someone, presumably Dave but we can't be 100% sure.) I wonder if this is trying to make excuses for some of her Candy-timeline behavior... though out of all of them, she has the least to excuse, really? I feel like both versions of her were remarkably in character and didn't do nearly as much weird potentially-Muse-guided stuff like Roxy and others at that initial funeral for Dirk back in the epilogues.

JADE: the mistakes we made are so obvious to me now JADE: embarrassingly obvious! JADE: we should never have talked to john in front of kanaya, for one thing JADE: they required way different approaches ROSE: Oh, so that was the problem? JADE: one of them at least

Bolding Rose for dryly pointing out that this is VERY MUCH a backslide into the wrong approach to this entire situation that Jade's having, focusing on the actions required to approach or defuse each person as if fulfilling video game objectives, trying to make everyone happy instead of trying to come clean and trusting the others to do as they will. She's trying to control (Witch) the situation too much, which was her issue in the Candy timeline in the first place.

JADE: i definitely wasnt expecting you to say all THAT either JADE: but i know she hit a sore spot so its understandable why you lost your temper JADE: its my fault for panicking ROSE: Interesting. ROSE: I didn't even realize I was mad. JADE: i mean JADE: it brought me back to the last time i mentioned your mom and you flipped that table ROSE: I was eighteen. JADE: you didnt talk to me for a month! ROSE: Eighteen years old. JADE: yeah and i havent tried to talk to you about it since!

Oh damn, those are some gigantic fucking unresolved Mom issues she has in this version of events that it sounds like she should have seen a psychologist or dozen about! D:

JADE: look all im saying is JADE: i understand why things went downhill the way they did and im not going to get caught off guard again JADE: this whole situation is my fault and even though it just keeps getting more frustrating and shitty im going to do right by you JADE: were going to figure this out ROSE: Are you sure it's prudent to keep this amateur marriage counselor performance up? JADE: rose... JADE: youre taking this seriously JADE: right? ROSE: I don't know what you mean by that.

Jade is still thinking she has to be in control and responsible for everything... and Rose is so afraid of tackling everything that she's practically dissociated from her own marriage. Her distorted Seer of Light vision or not, that's not going to help-- again, Steven Universe taught us that with Sapphire in Keystone Motel.

(==>)

COOL-ASS shot of Jade and her adorable pawprint gloves-- goofy shot of Rose with her short hair practically invisible. :D

JADE: i think you do but bleh whatever as long as we don't have a repeat of last time we can still position you as the good guy JADE: or at least less of a bad guy JADE: though playing stupid and cajoling her into slapping me around for catharsis wont work anymore JADE: well have to think of something else... ROSE: Jade, I've been compliant with these clumsy machinations partially because they weren't all that consequential at the time, but you need to cut your losses. ROSE: It's time to start looking beyond the end of your own nose, and accept that these methods aren't going to work. ROSE: This is not a situation you can win. JADE: im not trying to "win" anything!

Yes she is, this is exactly what I was talking about! Jade treating this like a problem to be solved instead of confronted, much like she did with trying to be in a relationship with Dave and Karkat at once in this timeline, instead of allowing others agency to help determine the endpoint of the situation. Because if she's too controlling, those methods themselves are going to dismantle her efforts, which at least Rose recognizes even if SHE'S wrong about other things.

JADE: im trying to be an adult and not run away from this ROSE: Look, I know better than anyone the satisfaction of gaming people's reactions and getting into their heads. JADE: (oh my god are you even listening to me) ROSE: But it's a losing game. ROSE: You're going to push too hard, or misconstrue something critical, or cross another line. ROSE: And you'll regret it. ROSE: That's not conjecture, it's a guarantee.

She IS right. But she's also being defeatist to avoid opening up and admitting fault, and ESPECIALLY to avoid confronting any uncomfortable emotions or problems she's still stopped trying to confront both without and within herself. That Mom stuff especially from the sound of it. Maybe unpacking that at some point soon will help shake Rose loose a bit.

JADE: youre so frustrating to talk to these days! JADE: "ohhhh bluh bluh blah i can see the fruitlessness of all our clumsy insignificant thrashing in fates cosmic current" JADE: dont forget im more than a little versed in future sight myself ok JADE: i dont care how credible it seems, you cant depend on that information!

An allusion to her long, long childhood stint inverted to Seer of Time and guiding everyone with Skaia's clouds before she was knocked violently loose from the habit out onto a true path of active agency!

ROSE: I know it's hard to hear, but you need to take a second to think about what I'm saying. ROSE: Don't you feel the least bit relieved? ROSE: You've spent so many years wrangling this dirty little secret. JADE: that "dirty little secret" is my fucking daughter ROSE: Well, now she's not a secret anymore. ROSE: You don't have to shoulder the burden of keeping her tucked away from everyone in the entire world for fear of the consequences, because the consequences have happened. ROSE: You're free to invest all that energy elsewhere. ROSE: Maybe work on yourself a little bit. ROSE: We could even unpack the hamster guy. JADE: oh we are not talking about the fucking hamster guy JADE: i don't want to talk about any of it really!

It's kind of fascinating how they've constructed a conversation where not only are BOTH parties acting so wrong, they're also completely right in naming each other's faults. Jade, the problem *IS* that you don't want to talk about it.

JADE: ever again! JADE: thinking back to that whole conversation makes my skin crawl!!! JADE: "abloo hoo hoo, my life is a monkey paw, everything i want hurts me in the end" ROSE: It was a little pathetic. JADE: I KNOW!

Jade has been hiding her vulnerability from the ENTIRE WORLD to the point where she essentially wanted to stop existing, except vicariously through her daughter, and she thinks now that it's been uncorked a little she can just go RIGHT BACK to never dealing with her problems ever again. NOPE! Doesn't work that way, Jade!

JADE: it had nothing to do with what we were trying to DO JADE: it just derailed everything... JADE: and worst of all, yiffy heard it! JADE: ugh!!!! ROSE: You can't keep trying to control the narrative forever, Jade.

Hah!!! (Bolded for emphasis.) Controlling the narrative, controlling her friends, controlling reality because reality IS "the narrative" here (and Space is the story's pages).

Geez I've had a lot to say and I'm only partway through the second page of this upd8.

ROSE: If Kanaya wants to hate me, or punish me, she has every right to. ROSE: She asked for the truth. JADE: oh come off it!!! JADE: the truth is whatever people WANT to believe JADE: you can either try forcing them to understand your side JADE: leave it completely in their hands and take no responsibility JADE: or you work with their wants and perspectives JADE: and make some informed compromises ROSE: Over the state of reality? JADE: rose i am begging you can you please cut it out with all the cryptic cosmic crap and come back down to earth???

Rose is absolutely WAY too defeatist here, and Jade is still trying to take too much control. FORCING them to understand your side? It's impossible for people to perfectly understand each other-- and mutual understanding takes time and being open about yourself. Jade had to be forcibly pried open into revealing what vulnerabilities she actually had here and she thinks it's pathetic and regrettable, instead of the biggest step towards salvaging this situation that anyone has taken so far, which it was!!! Taking responsibility means taking responsibility for your own flaws; at least Jade is right here that Rose is basically taking NO RESPONSIBILITY AT ALL for her side of the relationship, consigning it all to fate so she doesn't have to work on herself. Neither of them want to confront what's wrong inside their own hearts and their own insecurities. (When really they should be opening up about themselves and getting closer to my Kanaya/Rose/Jade OT3 ship. /s )

ROSE: Things aren't like they used to be, Jade. ROSE: There are no right or wrong routes, anymore. ROSE: Just a tangle of meandering side-paths. JADE: so what, that gives you a free pass to self-destruct? JADE: the best choice was to "double down and say a bunch of horrible insane shit to your wife" ?

Rose still feels deep down that because this isn't a "relevant" timeline anymore, that nothing here matters, just like Vriska used to. Maybe if they pull off the Plot Point plan and forcibly drag this timeline closer to relevance, something will kick off in Rose's mind that tells her, GUESS WHAT, THE STAGE LIGHTS ARE ON, you can't just say that this entire timeline doesn't matter anymore? Hmm.

ROSE: Jade, over the course of 15 years, when have any of your efforts done a grain of good? ROSE: For yourself or Dave? JADE: woooooooow i know what youre doing ok? JADE: go ahead push every button i have i dont give a fuck JADE: youre the one that has everything to lose here JADE: and no matter what awful things you say it wont change the fact im worried about you ROSE: Don't be. ROSE: I've done fairly well for myself this past decade and a half. ROSE: I've been happy. JADE: thats whats scaring me! JADE: youre not prepared for how bad it can get JADE: you have no idea at all!!!!!!!!!!! ROSE: If you say so.

Having felt like she failed with Dave, and then had him go off and die on her rather than stay with her, Jade is TERRIFIED that Rose is going to ruin the amazing thing she's had with Kanaya out of apathy and fear. Maybe if Kanaya turns out to be in serious danger from something she didn't foresee, and Rose actually has to confront being genuinely scared of losing her for good, it can dislodge Rose from feeling like she'd be happy letting everything keep falling apart around her? That she absolutely HAS TO FIGHT to keep this relationship, that a relationship requires "trying", and that you can't waste time not trying at all thinking you have everything locked down tight and nothing to lose, because as Jade recently learned you can lose EVERYTHING in a moment.

JADE: ... between you and dave and john i dont know whos worse JADE: is it really that hard for any of you to care? JADE: if you dont get your head on straight and begin trying shell leave you JADE: all youve had together and everything you could have had JADE: gone! JADE: and since youre so cool with talking about your mom now JADE: you shouldve learned that lesson from her a long time ago! ROSE: Excuse me-

OUCH. Bringing up all the regrets from the moments after Rose realized she'd lost her mother, lost ANY CHANCE to make amends with her before Jack killed her... the moments which Jade was there for over pesterchum talking to her during, right before she flew into a Grimdark rage.

JADE: look it takes a lot of concentration to hold this perimeter JADE: i think itd be best if you looked after the kids ROSE: ... JADE: inside. ROSE: Fine.

Why is the next command "Rose: Ramble"? Is she going to start talking to herself? Probably, set up by Jade's "(oh my god are you even listening to me)" line. Pulling a Dave Strider and talking to herself since she can't hold a conversation with Jade here.

(Rose: Ramble)

Yeah that's a dark, hopeless, kind of dissociated look on her face.

Oh she's rambling INTERNALLY, there's a lot of black text on this page. XD

You saunter on out of there. You could say so much more, but it’s fine. Jade has no idea what she’s talking about. There’s not a thing to worry about here. You came out the womb playing defense, you’re not about to drop the ball now.

Opening up for self-examination, being vulnerable like they BOTH need to let themselves be to move forward, is the polar opposite of "playing defense". I wonder if she's dunking on herself, here.

If you hadn’t, maybe you’d be more concerned with the torrent of bullshit you’re dealing with. You really are getting it from all ends here, between Jade’s guilt-ridden busybodying and the glint of rage and pain in your wife’s eyes and the sudden, inexplicable tragedy of your brother’s demise.

Ohhh fuck. Dave's death is hitting her too. I'm not sure why I forgot it would. No wonder she's been shutting down instead of confronting anything.

All that on top of the twist of your gut every time you see your mother in Roxy’s face or hear her in Roxy’s voice. Really, you should be losing your shit. Instead, your emotions are in order and your shit is on lockdown exactly where you tucked it away, smooth operator that you are. God, you need a fucking drink.

Gosh, that's sad. And yeah, she totally IS dunking on herself. She knows on some level that something's seriously wrong with her, and she's just avoiding it, conceding defeat even though she knows she's undoubtedly part of the problem. A part of the problem she's partially given up on fixing.

Submission -- to fate, to the oblivion of drink, to everyone else's will -- is Void, simultaneously the essential duality of and a weakpoint of her nature as a Light player.

Instead of folding, you try to curb the craving by focusing on the inside of your hand and slowly moving that energy to your fingertips. Jade is right, of course, but only on a base, intuitive level that is otherwise lacking in specifics and easily misinterpreted and manipulated. For there to be inarguable truth there has to not only be an authority, but one that cares enough to reinforce their intentions absolutely, and you can’t imagine any such authority caring all that much about this laughable mess.

I'm not sure if I completely agree on inarguable truth being contingent on an authority existing (I mean I suppose so in terms of the limits of both-scientific-and-historical observation in our universe, relying on human and imperfect accounts, and also it's DEFINITELY true when talking about A STORY and being able to read the author's interpretation of something or if there was one at all as opposed to the Death Of The Author that Andrew has been foreshadowing since most of the way through Homestuck is what he believes to be a better outcome for the work), but I suppose she doesn't realize that Calliope is the one who authored this timeline-- the living, non-ascended Calliope back in the Meat side. And she absolutely cared-- and we, the readers, do too!

If there’s no truth, then why even bother looking for your best option? Just leave the hierarchy of choices in ashes, the Mayor would be so proud. And then horribly disappointed, realizing this doesn't mean democratic power to the people. It means total fucking black out.

She's really, REALLY hung up on this being a non-canon timeline isn't she? Not only that-- but an AUTHORLESS timeline. She sees this whole timeline as Void (a black out, devoid of meaning and importance) and she can't see how she should actually be caring about it; she's just as doubtful about the validity of non-canon works of Homestuck, that the fanfics that we come up with because we care about these characters could be anywhere as interesting or worth caring about as canon, much in line with Dirk Strider's viewpoint that nothing could possibly matter if it doesn't have a Higher Purpose to the main, author-stamped story. Luckily enough HS^2's entire thematic structure is built to eventually prove her wrong, to teach her and Dirk and all the rest of us that Homestuck and its characters are worthwhile even wrested from the author's grip!

It’s only through quite rigorous contemplation of this metaphysical miasma (to the detriment, some might say, of your attention to the present moment) that you’ve managed to glean much of anything at all, a wonder in and of itself. Trying to decode these countless twisting paths has taken years of practice, but like all your favorite games the tedium enhances the satisfaction of playing. A small pastime, like a crossword, to privately enjoy outside the scope of any intrusive third persons. Currently, for example, you know that Vriska’s up to something important within the meteor. Exceedingly important, actually, far more important than anything here has had any right to be in a long, long time. It’s a point of almost disturbing clarity in the otherwise nebulous and ill-defined milieu of your prognosticative purview. You’re not quite sure what it actually is, though.

Interesting look into her non-ultimate Seer of Light talents, and the current limits they possess based on the combination of her abilities' limits in this Candyverse and her own beliefs and perspective. Why IS what Vriska's doing so important?

It doesn’t really matter, in the long run. Important or not, Vriska’s going to fail. Jane’s going to fail, too; really, just about everyone is going to fail to do something that really matters. In an unsuccessful effort to stave off that failure, and perhaps to atone for it on some level, Calliope will sacrifice herself, fruitlessly. You’re not exempt from the firing squad, either. In the imminent battle, you are going to be shot in the head, the bullet burying deep into your moral grey matter and jamming up the works of your conditional immortality, leaving you confined to a hospital bed. You had to pull all kinds of ridiculous, eyebrow-raising Chaos Theory shit to figure that one out. The rat-tail was worth it, your daughter’s anguish aside.

I'm not sure what she means by "the rat-tail" (does one of the people she knows have that hairdo?? Meenah? what does that have to do with her daughter? if anyone knows what she's alluding to by saying "the rat-tail was worth it" let me know in the replies), but I'm starting to see why she's been acting so hopeless. She doesn't mind Kanaya getting serious distance from her because she thinks she's going to get locked into a coma soon and she doesn't want Kanaya to mourn her as badly. That's pretty fucking depressing. I wonder which parts of this whole prediction are wrong, and why?

Calliope, this Calliope, sacrificing herself I can absolutely see (she's done observing within her fanfic, in a sense, and while not in a serious relationship with anyone she might decide to step out of the way and relinquish her Ring of Life for the sake of saving someone else)-- but fruitlessly how? And if Vriska is going to "fail", then why is what she's doing so damned important, hm? Fail at what, and gain what else in the process, to still invoke such importance? That's not something Rose has addressed or been willing to see. (EDIT: To clarify a bit here, not only is she blind to the purpose Vriska will accomplish-- it's definitely possible that Vriska leaves the plot point WITHOUT resolving her psychological issues, "fail" to, but even then she'll be only one step away from becoming her Ultimate Self at a pivotal moment and she'll already know what that last step IS inside herself, holding on to the Point's importance to finally do the most important step at a later time after getting out. That's just one of many ways to spin things, and she's blind to the true purpose of the Point regardless, or what "failure" truly constitutes in this situation.) Will Rose really enter a coma, and if she does, is her fatalism keeping her from seeing that some unexpected ray of hope is probably going to free her from said coma?

Kanaya may not see it this way at first, but your lobotomy sleepytime will be a well-earned, golden opportunity for her. A chance to experience life unshackled from the ol’ ball and chain. Even if it requires you to foist some compelling motivation for her to embrace it. She can’t waste her independence waiting on you again. You refuse to accept that outcome. What’s the point of a world where anything is possible if the love of your life won’t explore her full potential?

Yeah fuck that!!! I figured this was where Rose was leading, seeing herself as a net negative and refusing to believe that she's WORTH Kanaya, an insecurity she holds so tightly to that she's unwilling to fight for her own happiness. Thinking Kanaya's true potential lays in places that won't circle right back to you eventually. (Rose might be hinting at Kanaya unlocking some of her latent power, quite possibly-- considering the Sylph of Space as a healer, breaking through to that potential might even be enough to save her from the coma she's mentioning.)

It might even be gratifying for her romantically, though you haven’t peered too deeply down those corridors out of respect for her hypothetical privacy (surely not because they’d make you want to rip off your own face to perceive; that’d be hypocritical). Whatever. It’ll be good for her to stretch her legs, and it’s not like you’ll be awake to miss her.

Interesting... now THIS is a huge, huge blindspot for Rose. Since she's refusing to look down the paths of possibility where Kanaya feels for anyone other than her, what if this is one of the biggest reasons she's missing the path of possibility which eventually saves her and reunites them? (No, I'm not just saying that for the sake of Kanaya/Rose/Jade OT3... not entirely, anyway. >_>")

Or everything will collapse and everybody will disappear. It’ll certainly happen eventually. Maybe in an hour, maybe a day, a couple weeks, millenia from now. Who’s to say? Those specifics are beyond you now.

Everyone's seriously underestimating the Candy timeline. Everyone except Roxy and Calliope, the Rogue of Void and the Muse of Space, working together across the canon-to-non-canon barrier... the perfect pair of heroes to set events into motion that will make everything outside of canon real.

It’s this thought that unwinds you, untwisting your knickers. It’s hard to take things too seriously when you know that the details don’t matter and the ending never changes. It’s out of your hands. There’s nothing left to lose.

When Did You Stop Trying

She's practically LETTING herself get shot just so she doesn't have to see the rest of a story she doesn't think matters! Hopefully she'll be rather ridiculously surprised to find her timeline mattering after all-- to everyone both inside and outside their story. Hopefully we don't have to watch her agonize TOO long waiting for her to figure that shit out, even if the possibility of a certain duration of coma ends up making that wait longer than we'd like. At least in that case, we'll get to see the flabbergasted look on her face when she's brought out of her condition and realizes that everything suddenly matters again!

(==>)

A preview of what she sees ahead. Damn.

You’re nobody now. Just a shadow. Dirk was right to leave. He would have hated this existence. Ah, well.

I'd hoped both this Rose and Rosebot wouldn't make the exact same mistake, because hopefully we get to see them both convinced out of it... but possibly it could be circumstantially simultaneous? That'd be pretty appropriate given one of them is Ultimate Rose.

All tension has left your body, at this point. You don’t retreat to the heart of the ship; you have somewhere to be, so you set off, moving not towards a definitive point on the horizon but in cadence with a song that dances on the periphery of your awareness. You heard its first few tentative notes years ago. A subtle ‘ding’ when your ecto-father died. A little ‘dong’ when your wife handed you your daughter. A clear ‘ting’ when an old friend asked you for her first and only favor. Over time, and especially within the past few days, these scattered sounds have woven together into a compelling melody.

This sounds sort of like a mix of what meat!Calliope wrote into the Candy timeline, and intervention of other authors like Dirk excising himself to strengthen his meat!timeline importance? But mostly that Calliope, the story written in part by that distant author who wouldn't leave you to such a fate as you're expecting.

It helps you drown out the noise of war and focus, taking you back to times when there was destiny and indignation and righteous fury. A colorful cat-squid princess, advising a young girl to “play the rain.” She wanted so much, always needing to be seen, desperate to fight for some shred of validation. Only to never appreciate what was already in front of her. Thankfully, you aren’t her anymore. You don’t owe her anything either. You are unbound to that person completely. Defunct. As above, so below.

I wonder if that statement, behaving like this is Hell (to go with Vriska's purgatorial little trip in the Point), is also a reference to her making the same mistakes on both sides of the Candy/Meat divide? And I wonder if Rosebot truly believes, deep down, that she's the unlucky one in Hell too. Probably not yet, or at least not consciously, especially with Dirk artificially suppressing her doubts. (Also, playing the rain brought up again because at least ONE of these Roses is going to have to pull it off before HS^2 ends!!! It's one of the biggest unfulfilled threads that people wanted to see filled in Homestuck before it ended, and its subsequent continuation-- and goes hand in hand with all of Rose's unresolved psychological issues too somehow most likely, unless it's going to be done to show us that it wasn't indeed the biggest point after all?)

Also, just noting on the side the comparison of the woven thread of the narrative and fate to a musical score, one where the different authors, participants, are contributing parts of the music and different instruments, like the Fraymotifs that blended their aspects to write reality like a song.

Also also, it occurs to me that if Rose is going to enter a coma, she's quite possibly already going to have left a VERY INFURIATING farewell note for Kanaya that shows she saw her coma coming all along, and inadvertently clues Kanaya into the stupid game Rose had been playing by distancing herself so cruelly.

(==>)

A troll soldier looks down from something.

(==>)

Oh, they're bumping face first into a (much taller than them? and very pissed) Kanaya aren't they.

(==>)

Ooh, aglow, too. I wonder if this is a younger recruit or if Kanaya is just tall and huge now; she didn't seem like she compared much taller than Rose and Jade, though most people have always seen Kanaya as tall. This seems like the sort of thing I'd like to see artist commentary on when it comes out. (I've been trying to chew on the artist commentary first back-to-front from where HS^2 first became Beyond Canon, but I'm very slow at it due to some energy issues lately, so even Part 1 of that will be some time coming.)

(==>)

Literally haloed in light! If you weren't so preoccupied with your imminent demise, Rose, you could take some time to appreciate how amazing your wife is and believing in how much she loves you instead of thinking yourself less worthy than SHE thinks of you and casting her off.

(Commanders: Congregate.)

Ooh she mad.

Nothing too important in this page's dialogue, other than Kanaya acknowledging that Rose and Jade won't be involved in directly attacking and that she'd rather that be the case regardless, from an emotional standpoint. She definitely still wants Rose out of the line of fire, even if she's mad at her. (And Jade pulling defensive duty around the children might lose you a big offensive card but it isn't TOO bad, hopefully.)

(==>)

KARKAT: FUCK ‘EM.

Hah! Totally moirails. (Also look at that BLOOD imagery behind the grasping of hands, in all colors of the hemospectrum. That's not subtle Aspect imagery at all! I love unsubtle Aspect imagery! :D )

(==>)

MEENAH: shell yes motherblubber MEENAH: wayward wenches betta step the fuck back MEENAH: its a troll thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang

you're ruining the mood meenah

(Jane: Push the big red button. Blast it all to high heaven.)

Yeah Jake's gonna have dismantled that moon superweapon WELL before it fires.

You do not push the button because that would be incredibly stupid. The battle hasn't even started yet. Instead you take advantage of the momentary quiet to breathe. To think about life. About situations you could have handled differently. Feelings you could have... considered better. People you could have saved.

Does she? Does she really? Really now? ¬_¬"

(==>)

OH GOD IT'S A GIANT CAKE LASER THAT'S HILARIOUS

Your father never did voice any kind of opinion on your parenting style. In hindsight, he was probably avoiding the subject altogether. Or didn’t think much about it, focusing his pride on your exploits instead. He did raise a businesswoman, after all. At any point you could have asked for his advice. Now you can't. 15 years. Utterly botched.

Yeah, she definitely screwed the heck up on the parenting front, I suppose that *IS* something she's seriously reckoning with now that Jake has pulled back the curtain. It's too late for her to consider backing down, but she's at least going to feel some regrets and let that eat deservedly away at her before her final moments in this timeline.

Oh pfff, I hadn't even looked at the title of the next link (I'm guessing the answer is YES OF COURSE)

(Jane: Consider, is it too late?)

Of course not.

Really?

You remind yourself, you are incredibly young for a god. It’s natural for your growing pains to be this calamitous. All of the struggle and regret will feed into a brighter future. Newfound order will ensure stability, leading to a period of progress this planet has never seen before. There is so much living left. So many opportunities. This will not be your last chance. You’ll do better with the next one.

This is pretty in line with the way megalomaniacal way Jane behaved back when she was controlled by the Condesce, envisioning an empire with Jake at her side bearing her children forever. Candy is essentially an entire timeline where she followed through on her ambitions without constraint.

Speaking of constraint-- (Gee I thought he was totally going to take the Third Option and fly up to destroy the laser, this can't be over this quickly with a gun to the head--)

(Jane: Look behind you.)

Oh dear, so it definitely IS assassination, then. You must really hate how bad she's been for the children, Jake, to really go through with this as personally as BGD suggested. I was thinking about turning points like this for Hope players (in other media actually, a certain Hope player in Murder Drones actually) and moments of Rage being negative or positive turning points in equal measure, points where their belief in the breadth of possibility is pushed into a corner and it's time for them to narrow everything down to ONE CHANCE, to do or die, to a gun to someone's head or a blade to someone's neck and a willingness to cut a possibility off forever when it REALLY COUNTS to come in balance with their role (in ways depicted in Murder Drones with, hint hint, exactly one of their eyes showing a murder-mode X and the other eye open, as if on the tipping point before that Hope is cut off). How for a Hope player to be effective and balanced, they HAVE to know when they can't just sit on their heels and need to take action even if it means cutting off all the other paths they WISHED were true but can't be, acknowledging reality.

But seriously, if he was fast enough he could have just flown to space and blown up the Cake Laser. I guess this is more effective.

JANE: Jake? JAKE: Hi. Sweetheart. JANE: What are you doing here? Is everything ok? JAKE: It's all gravy train, don't worry! I was only thinking to myself and... JAKE: realized how sorry i'd be if i didn't come wish you good luck. JANE: How thoughtful! JAKE: Mm hm! JAKE: Come here.

Is that really going to work? Maybe with Jane deluding herself this much right now. I feel life if Jake actually pulls this off it'll end the battle far too quickly; maybe he'll shoot her and her Maid of Life powers will bring her back to retaliate the moment he turns his back on the body?

(==>)

Oh dear, he's going in EXTREMELY personal for this isn't he. A point blank shot through the heart in honor of Dirk maybe?

JANE: Well! That felt very lucky. JANE: Hoo, hoo! JAKE: I was hoping so ha ha! JANE: Thank you. ;B JANE: Wow you sure are holding me very tight, I assure you we don't have that kind of time sir! JANE: *eyebrow wiggle* JAKE: So right! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. JAKE: Oh Jane. JAKE: Before I let go, I wanted to say first. It's been a hard life and all but, JAKE: I'm really happy I got to see you. JANE: Me too J! JAKE: And... I'm going to miss you. JANE: Aw! JANE: Wait, what?

Looks like she didn't see it coming, even if I don't think it's gonna stick. Just exhausting whatever extra life she's built up in reserve, I'd bet.

[click]

(==>)

OW, to the head! No wonder there was a blood/violence warning in the tweet announcing this upd8.

(==>)

Oh god that's horrifying it didn't finish her off

this dialogue is horrifying why do you have to traumatize Jake more like this he's promising it'll stop oh that's awful okay serious fucking trigger warnings ouch

(==>)

OH GOD and she healed herself and knocked his aim off course. This is why you always double tap. D:

She's gonna be PISSED. (I didn't need the vivid mental imagery of bullets stuck in heads a third time counting Rose AND this anyway, brain damage is a bit of a trigger for me.) Hopefully Jake at least gets away, or destroys the launch button, or with his assassination attempt failed NOW goes to fly off and destroy the cake laser directly on the moon.

(==>)

Alright that's pretty cool! Not good obviously, but inevitable.

JAKE: W-w-w-w-w-w-wha? JANE: As I was saying- JANE: Jake.

Counter-attack incoming.

(==>)

JANE: IF YOU HAVE ONE SHOT

(==>)

OH THAT'S SOME HYPER VIOLENT PISTOL WHIPPING OUCH. EVEN IN BEYOND CANON THEY AREN'T HOLDING BACK A BIT ON THE MATURE GODDAMN RATING even when it isn't a psychological deep dive owowow

JANE: YOU BETTER JANE: MAKE IT JANE: *FUCKING* JANE: COOOOOUUUUUUUUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wonder how he's going to get away? He deserves to after this, and also he's possibly the only one who knows about the space laser and isn't coming out of this without at least one big solid heroic accomplishment that sticks under his belt. The space laser seems pretty much designed for him to intervene.

(==>)

You stop your onslaught, knowing the next couple blows will finish the job. A just death. How romantic.

Pfff-- I guess even if she killed him, it wouldn't announce that the death had been Heroic over his head.

Oh wait, I just realized--! Jake has TWO GUNS. Both the prior shots ought only to have been from one, unless he switched to single shot pistols for some arcane reason.

Between the adrenaline and taste of blood in your mouth, the decision is clear to you. You will not fail yourself. You will claim the spoils of this war and oversee a thriving planet. Cultivating an ever bettering stock of humanity. Your future. On and on. Forever. Alone.

Yeah sure you will.

Wait, what does that next link even mean? --Oh, it's Spades Slick and the co-opted Felt gang members she captured isn't it?? :D I've been waiting for her to unleash them!

(Jane: Release the Brig Boys.)

Wait what the fuck

As if!!!!! Maybe some time in the trenches with the Brig Boys will do him some good.

Oh my GOD she's seriously letting him go?! I'm not sure if that's not even more messed up in the head of her than killing him! She's seriously got a screw loose. She's really afraid of being alone and sure he'll come back to her side, isn't she, even if she needs a leash to force him? (And plot-speaking this just gives him a chance to fly up and bust the Moon Laser.)

Why are they Brig Boys, doesn't that mean prisoners? I mean I guess she probably paranoidly imprisoned some of the clone soldiers, but...

(==>)

Oof, Jake splats to the ground.

Death would be a kindness, after all. You gave Jake a shot to stay by your side and make something of himself, but in the end he proved himself just another deserter. You should have seen it coming; you learned 15 years ago that people will slip right through your fingers if you let them.

well what's your plan then

It’s fine. You won’t let go again. Jake is your means to an end. When you scramble his frontal lobe, you’ll make sure it doesn’t heal right. It won’t be much of a change, anyway.

JESUS CHRIST WOMAN

If I didn't know better I'd accuse someone who worked on this slate of updates to have known about my trigger about the idea of brain damage and personally stacked this one up against me! Good thing I worked out a lot of my fears in therapy so much before this, sheesh. Beyond Canon might know when to STOP punching and crack a joke but when they punch they don't pull those punches, ouch.

(Jane: Commence battle.)

Good thing Jake's already sitting up. You'd better not wallow in that discouragement from the failed assassination attempt, GO AFTER THE MOON LASER. (Though, Rose did warn us that from her biased point of view "just about everyone is going to fail to do something that really matters".)

(Jake: Look out into distance.)

JAKE: TAVROS!

Aw damn, is he going to fly in to help and leave the moon laser problem to someone else? At least he's the one parent of Tavros's focused on something he should of the two.

(==>)

That's a letter from Rose and a pack of trail mix. Rose, now that we know you're lining up future events so things turn out a certain neutral-victory sort of way, I can't help but wonder what the fuck you're planning with the kids. (And how they're going to potentially far surpass your limited expectations.)

On the plus side this means that as soon as we've reckoned with that letter WE FINALLY GET BACK TO THESE KIDS AND POTENTIALLY HAVING SOME FUCKING DIALOGUE THAT INCLUDES YIFFY OR IS ABOUT AND AROUND HER AT LEAST, I'VE BEEN WAITING SO EXCITED TO GET BACK TO THEM AFTER THAT JADE HEART-OUTPOUR THAT YIFFY OVERHEARD AND IS LIKELY STILL MIFFED ABOUT! :DDD Gosh I've been waiting for Yiffy and the other kids to interact more.

I'm extra busy with family stuff for a couple weeks so I probably won't post anything extra between now and the next update, but as usual I'll be right there when it arrives. Until next time!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck^2 #upd8 #spoiler #spoilers #Rose Lalonde #Jade Harley #Light and Void #Calliope #Jane Crocker #Jake English #Kanaya #Hope and Rage

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randomquadballpun · 3 months ago

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DAY 0 (attempt no 1)

It all started out pretty harmless. That was: harmless measured by the Watson-Holmes household standards.

When John returned from work Monday evening, he expected to hear Sherlock and Rosie playfully debating the advantages of squared over lined paper for efficient note-taking or maybe the sound of the two of them battling each other on Rosies Nintendo Switch. Instead, he was greeted halfway up the stairs by hushed silence and a faint burnt smell in the air. Needless to say, he took the last couple of steps a little bit faster.

The picture that presented itself as he walked into the flat was both better and worse than what he had dreaded. His daughter and his boyfriend were leaning over the messy kitchen table, a bowl of ice, a stack of Petri dishes and a burning Bunsen burner between them. To give Sherlock credit, they were both wearing lab coats and gloves and Rosie had been additionally equipped with safety goggles and even wore her messy blond hair in a neat high ponytail to keep it out of the flames.

John let his groceries slide to the floor with a loud thump. "Alright, does anyone want to tell me what you two are doing here?"

Two pairs of startled wide eyes snapped over to him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, as the two exchanged one quick and not at all ominous glance before starting to explain.

"We are making Ecollies glow green. That’s bacteria!", Rosie declared proudly.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "E.coli. I wanted to show Watson some fluorescing bacteria under the microscope and thought we could make a little lesson in molecular biology out of it. So we are cloning GFP into an expression vector and then transforming the E.coli with it."

"Er …“" John stared at him with a blank face while his mind tried to make sense of the information that had just been conveyed to him. "Alright?"

He could sense the eye roll even though his boyfriend did his best to suppress it – from the corner of his eye, he could see that Rosie had no such restraint. Sherlock clarified. "We are forcing bacteria to produce a protein that glows green under a special lamp. Green fluorescent protein - GFP. We have already put the gene for GFP into a piece of bacterial DNA and shuttled that DNA into the bacteria. Tomorrow morning we can have a first look at them under the microscope!"

That did make sense - sort of. "As long as you clean up properly after yourself. I don't want our toilet to start glowing green in a couple of days!", he reminded them sternly before he stooped down to pick up the bag with groceries again and squeezed past his two favourite mad scientists to deposit milk and butter in the fridge.

"Have you done your homework for tomorrow, sweetheart?"

There was an exaggerated groan behind him. "They are sooooo boring, Dad!"

This was not the first time that they had this discussion but Rosie did sound more like Sherlock anytime they did. "I am sorry, but you still got to do them!"

"Do I reaaaally have to though?"

He had to suppress a grin at the audible pout and tried to force a no-nonsense tone into his voice as he answered: "I told you, if Mrs Harkins asks for any extra parent-teacher conferences this year, I am going to send Sherlock, and no one is going to like the outcome of that." Everyone in the room winced at that prospect.

"I can show you how to do long division once we are done here, Watson. The experiment will only take another 10 minutes, we just have to spread out the bacteria over the agar plates now", Sherlock added in Johns direction.

The doctor nodded absentmindedly before faltering. "Wait, you remember how to do long division?"

This time Sherlock did roll his eyes at him, but with a grin that softened the effect. "No, calculators have been around since before I was born." He winked at Rosie but continued quickly when John shot him a warning glare. "However, I know that there is a tutorial for pretty much anything on YouTube nowadays. Rest assured, Watson and I are going to be able to puzzle out long division."

"Good, thank you." John let his gaze swipe once again over the biohazard that was their kitchen and made the executive decision that he could not be bothered with this tonight.

"How do you guys feel about ordering Pizza for dinner?"

"YES!" Rosie threw her hands in the air excitedly, barely missing the flame that was still dancing merrily between them and not in fact missing a rack of small plastic tubes that had been placed close by as well and was now clattering all over the tiled floor. "I want pineapple, artichokes and pepperoni on mine."

John caught a quick glance at his partners face before the other man dove under the table to hunt after the sample tubes. Well, no matter what the outcome of this experiment would be, at least Rosie had managed to make Sherlocks face glow faintly green tonight.

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

Troubleshooting, part 1/?

-> Will this whole series be incredibly self-indulgent and nerdy - yes!

-> The next snippet can be found here!

#bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #ficlet #sherlock holmes #john watson #rosie watson #Fic: Troubleshooting #my writing

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adipostsstuff · 1 year ago

Text

We need to talk about the prisoners' memories

We know that none of the prisoners remember being taken to Milgram, so they must have had some memories removed, and it seems it wasn't limited to the kidnapping since Mu in her first voice drama claims that the last thing she remembers is committing her murder. I suspect their memories cut off at the moment they realised they committed murder based on the last scenes in their music videos. This would mean that:

Haruka, Yuno, Mu, Amane and Kotoko would have their memories cut off immediately after their murders since it would be pretty difficult not realise you committed a murder after literally beating someone to death.

For Mahiru and Kazui it would be once they realsie their partners committed suicide and related it back to their own actions.

For Futa it would be when he starts getting posts directed to him how his victim's death and was blamed for it. (Side note: imagine being Futa, getting called out on social media and not knowing when, realising you caused the death of a human being, and then waking up in a prison and being called a murderer with no time to process any of that. No wonder he's so jumpy.)

For Shidou it would be when he gets told his family was diagnosed with brain death and asked to offer up their organs for transplants, realised how hurtful it must have been for others to hear the words said from him, and retroactively consider all of his previous transplants to be murders. (I know this isn't confirmed to be his murder but its the only theory that fits this one and based on other stuff seems the most likely to me.)

This leaves Mikoto, who seems to be the odd one out as unlike the others he had time to clear up his crime scene. It seems like a contradiction to be able to do that without realising he committed a murder. I have a couple of possible explanations for this (but I have to speculate about his crime to do that. ugh).

The first, and what I believe to be most likely, is that he killed someone and immediately started to dissociate. Remember what I said earlier about it being difficult to not realise you committed a murder if you did it directly? There is actually an exception to that rule: if you happen to have a dissociative disorder, which just so happens to be the case with Mikoto. This could be when John was "born" (which checks out with his statements in Neoplasm) and was left with the task of clearing up the scene while Mikoto was unconscious (don't know the proper system terminology for that). If this is the case, then it's unlikely there were more than one victims or at least incidents since it seems a little pedantic for this to happen every time (unless John did kill someone after the first event; have to keep an open mind, especially since I'm not going to bother looking into it much further than this myself).

The other possibility is that it was an alter committing all the murders without Mikoto's knowledge, but since Double I've been less convinced. John is clearly not giving us all the information he knows.

Either way the end is the same. Some time later, Mikoto starts to remember what he did before getting knocked out kinda by John and forgetting again. This realization is what enables him to be sent to Milgram. In fact, if you look at the final scene in MeMe

Yep, that’s the last shot either of them have. Their last memory before entering here. As an aside it's interesting (and also kind of annoying) that the memory wipe is applied to both alters despite only Mikoto being considered the prisoner. They might have just tried to remove all memories after this point regardless of who was fronting. The one time it would have been useful for John to not be considered a prisoner, he is treated as one.

This is entirely conjecture but considering everyone else it would be weird for him to be the only one who doesn't fit. This does give some kind of idea as to how Milgram selects people to be part of the experiment and what memories are wiped, and I don't have a better idea than this one right now so if anything gets contradicted then I'm screwed. I'm fairly confident in this though. Going to make a follow up post to prove more stuff happened between what they last remember and when they were taken here, but I'd like to hear everyone else's thoughts on this.

#milgram #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha #milgram theory

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formulauno98 · 6 months ago

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Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Five / Monday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Very mild spice. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

MONDAY MORNING

At long last, the storm had passed and as you’d slept, the crew had managed to get the electronics working well enough to move the yacht and anchor in a calm bay.

Emerging from your quarters for breakfast, the sun shone brightly, casting sparkling reflections on the sea surrounding you, a stark contrast from yesterday’s stormy grey skies and relentless rain.

Monday morning was a quiet affair, with the group nursing hangovers coupled with lack of sleep from being kept awake all night. Undoubtedly the surprising revelation that George had walked in on Toto having sex in the garage also hung heavy, Toto and George uncharacteristically subdued. For once, you were not the quietest at the table.

"That storm last night was wild, wasn't it? I thought we might get blown off course." you said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"Indeed, nature always reminds us who's in charge out here." Toto replied.

Glancing between you and Toto, a hint of tension in his voice, George added, "Yeah, quite a night. Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Toto."

You could feel yourself turning rouge at the memory of Toto pulling you into the small cupboard yesterday evening, the intimate moment electric with sexual tension. For the last few days your crush on Toto had spiralled but you never dreamt that it might be returned.

Toto merely raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips "Just ensuring everyone stays safe. Wouldn't want any of my guests lost at sea."

George laughed, his smile not quite meeting his eye as the conversation turned to your companion’s hangovers.

"Ugh, my head is pounding,” Cara moaned, sipping gingerly on her coffee, “That game was killer George.”

“I know!” exclaimed Marion, nursing a herbal tea, “"I think I might have to be teetotal for the rest of this trip.”

Chuckling, John chimed in, “"Ah, you ladies know how to live! Last night was a blast though. Nothing like a thunderstorm and some racy revelations to liven things up. You lot are a surprisingly wild bunch.”

John smirked, his eyes darting to Toto who was sat quietly, "Speaking of which, boss, any plans for tonight? Perhaps a quieter affair?"

Toto pepped up, “We'll see how the day unfolds. The crew need to dock in Porto Cervo to assess damage and restock supplies so perhaps we can explore after lunch."

– – –

As the yacht glided into the marina, the picturesque town of Porto Cervo unfolded before you. There were already a few large boats moored and the crew expertly steered into a vacant spot. The view was glorious, the buildings painted in pastel hues and the streets bustling with life. You couldn’t wait to go for a wander in the afternoon and clear your thoughts.

As the anchor went down, Toto turned to the group. "Just to let you know, I’ve invited some friends to join us for lunch. They’re eager to meet you all."

George raised an eyebrow. "More guests?"

"Just a few old friends. They’re in town and it would be rude not to invite them." Toto replied.

– – –

The guests arrived shortly after the yacht docked. A group of older Italian men, clearly good friends of Toto, greeting him with hearty embraces and speaking animatedly in Italian.

"Everyone, meet my friends, Stefano, Flavio, and Marco," Toto introduced them, turning to you and George. "And this is George and his girlfriend."

The men turned their attention to you, their eyes lighting up with interest.

"Bellissima! A pleasure to meet you," Stefano said, taking your hand and kissing it lightly.

"Toto didn’t mention he had such beautiful company," Marco added, his smile wide.

"We are lucky men today," Flavio said, his gaze lingering on you a bit too long.

George’s jaw tightened, and Toto seemed to notice, a slight frown crossing his face.

– – –

As lunch progressed, the Italian men’s flirting became more overt. They regaled you with stories of their exploits, each trying to outdo the other, while George and Toto watched with seemingly growing irritation.

"You must visit my vineyard in Tuscany," Marco suggested, leaning in closer. "I’ll give you a private tour."

"Or perhaps a ride in my classic car collection," Flavio offered, his eyes twinkling.

You laughed politely, feeling the tension between George and Toto. George’s face was a mix of jealousy and frustration, while Toto’s usual calm demeanor was replaced by a more protective stance.

"You all are too kind," you said, trying to tactfully deflect their advances. "It sounds wonderful."

"You should definitely go," Cara chimed in, winking at you. "A vineyard tour sounds amazing."

"Maybe we could all go," Marion suggested, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Make it a group outing."

John and James exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"I think George might have something to say about that," John said, nudging George playfully.

– – –

Leaving Toto to talk business with his associates, the rest of you decided it was time to explore shore. Stepping foot onto dry land for the first time in what felt like forever, you and George, along with John, Marion, James and Cara, decided to explore the small streets along the edge of the marina.

"Those men were quite something, weren’t they?" Marion said, linking arms with you.

"Yes, very charming," you replied, glancing at George, who seemed lost in thought.

"You seemed a bit on edge, George," John observed. "I’ve never seen you like that."

"Well, those guys were practically drooling over her," James said, laughing. "I’d be on edge too."

George stayed quiet but you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "It’s nothing, I just want to enjoy the day," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

It became quickly apparent that George, John and James were not interested in browsing the small boutiques so the group decided to split up, the men going off to explore the coastal path while you stayed shopping with Cara and Marion. The irony was not lost on you that a few days ago you felt awkward in the older women’s company but were now relieved to have escaped George.

Picking up a silk scarf and thumbing it delicately, Cara broached the subject, “So my darling, you and George. You don’t seem as loved up as you I thought you would be, a young couple and all. Is everything okay?”

Shocked that Cara was voicing this since you didn’t know her terribly well, you stuttered slightly, “Yes… well…no.”

Her eyes kind, she came over a little nearer, “You know, dear, George is a good man. His job just takes so much of his focus. I’ve experienced the same with James. They get over excited and it feels as if nothing else matters.”

Floored that the older woman shared your experience and had so neatly verbalised it, you turned to her, eyes wide, “You feel like this too?”

“Not so much any more, but we’ve had our ups and downs.” Cara said kindly before gesturing at Marion who was trying on earrings across from you, “Marion will agree, won’t you?”

“Oh yes,” Marion nodded, “I almost left John one season. Our children were young and I was left at home whilst he was gallivanting around the world, forgetting our existence entirely. It was shit to put it frankly”

Surprised that the women were opening up to you in this way, you tried to choose your words carefully, “It’s just... he’s so distant lately. It’s like he forgets I’m my own person.”

Shooting you a sympathetic look, Cara advised you, “"It’s understandable to feel that way. But sometimes, we need to remind those we love of what they could lose. Men like George can be wonderful partners, but they often need a little nudge to realise what’s right in front of them."

Countering, Marion nudged you on the arm, “And if George isn’t giving you what you need, you owe it to yourself to have that conversation. It’s not about hurting him, it’s about being honest. You never know, he might step up and surprise you."

You smiled at the two women before you, grateful for their advice, “"I know. It’s just hard. I don’t want to hurt him, but I also don’t want to lose myself."

“Have a chat with him.” said Cara, her blue eyes firm. “That’s the only way you’ll know.”

“I will.” you said, resolving to take their advice and have a sit down with George to tell him how you had been feeling. “Thank you, this is helpful. I’ve felt so alone.”

Sympathic, the two women fussed about you, Marion putting her arm around you, “Oh my darling, you’re never alone. Please talk to us any time. About anything.”

Although you thanked her, you knew you couldn’t yet broach the subject of Toto. That was a whole other issue and now was not the time to get into it.

MONDAY AFTERNOON

As the afternoon wore on, the group reconvened on the sun deck of the yacht, Toto’s business associates readying themselves to leave.

"So, what did you think of Porto Cervo?" Marco asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

"It’s beautiful," you replied, trying to keep the conversation light.

"You must come back soon," Flavio said, his smile widening.

"And maybe next time, without the storm," Stefano added, laughing.

“And without George.” joked Flavio, eyeing your boyfriend.

"I’m not sure about that," George said, his tone flat.

– – –

Having bid the men goodbye, Toto then broached the topic of the evening’s plans to the group, suggesting an evening out in Porto Cervo.

"How about we hit Billionaire tonight?" he proposed, looking around eagerly to gauge everyone’s enthusiasm.

"Ooh yes, I’ve heard it’s amazing!" Marion exclaimed, clapping her hands. "We have to go!"

“I thought you were now teetotal?” her husband chimed in, “That lasted all of what… eight hours?”

Marion playfully slapped John, “I don’t need to drink to have a good time.”

“What do you all think?” Toto asked, noticing that you, George, Cara and James had not said anything.

“If Marion’s going, I’ll go.” said Cara, “But I’m definitely not drinking.”

“Spoilsport,” said James, “I’m up for it Toto.”

Turning to you and George, Toto raised his eyebrows, daring you to talk.

"Sure, I could use a night out," George agreed, though he glanced at you with a hint of concern.

"Sounds like fun," you said, trying to shake off the tension from earlier.

“Great,” said Toto, “Be ready by ten.”

MONDAY EVENING

Turning around in front of the mirrored door in your cabin, you surveyed your outfit.

“Wowser.” said George, sidling up to you and planting a kiss on your neck, wrapping his hands around your waist, “I mean wow.”

In all fairness, your floor length slip dress was a little risqué, semi sheer and adorned head to toe with light blue sequins, you shimmered like a mermaid in the golden bedroom light, “Is it too much?”

“Not at all.” said George, stepping back and admiring you once more, “As long as Flavio isn’t there.”

You laughed, “Stay by my side at all times.”

“Where else would I be?” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, caressing his arm gently, surveying his neat navy trouser and linen shirt combination. Resort chic.

“Oh yeah?” he said, intensifying the kiss, breaking apart to tweak your strap and add, “Can’t wait to take this off later.”

You laughed, toying with the buttons on his shirt and replying, “Me neither.”

Perhaps your fears were unwarranted. When things were good with George, they were really good, and he did look handsome in tonight’s get-up, hair flopped to perfection.

Or so you thought. Until you emerged from your cabin to meet with the rest of the group and spotted Toto.

He was wearing cream chinos and a navy linen shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalising amount of upper chest, sleeves rolled back on vein popping forearms. As you made your way over, you locked eyes with him, his eyes full of desire as he took in your outfit for the night. You gulped. He had definitely just checked you out.

– – –

The crew having shepherded you all down to the marina, three sleek black sedans were waiting for you.

“You two come with me,” said Toto, gesturing at the third car in the line. “I hope you don’t mind a third wheel.”

“Not at all. Not at all.” said George, always eager to please his boss.

Having reached the car first, Toto opened the door for you with a charming smile, "Ladies first."

You thanked him as you slid in, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

George made his way around to the other side of the car, looking slightly affronted but remaining polite as he slid in beside you, grabbing your hand in his, "Toto, you really know how to pick the best places."

Toto replied, "Porto Cervo has its charms." before bending down and asking with a dashing grin, “Would you mind moving across to the middle?”

You obliged as Toto settled in the seat beside you, his commanding stature filling the tight space.

As the car set off along the marina, you tried not to think about the fact that Toto’s knee was pressed up against yours, jostling as the car glided over the cobbles.

Attempting to break the tension, you looked out of the window at the passing buildings, “This town looks so beautiful at night, it’s like something from a movie.”

Toto grinned, his eyes crinkling, "Indeed. And with the right company, it becomes even more enchanting."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see George’s jaw tightening, his grip on your hand becoming slightly firmer.

In a slightly strained voice, he spoke up, "It’s definitely got a unique vibe. So, Toto, what’s the plan for the night? Any special surprises?"

Toto grinned, "Just a night of good music, great company and perhaps a few surprises. But let's see where the night takes us."

“Mysterious,” said George, his mind whirring into gear.

For the first time you felt the tension between George and Toto. The dynamic of their relationship was a strange one. It had been known to shift between father and son, friends and equals and irate boss and employee, George always eager to impress Toto. This, however, was all new territory.

Trying to calm him, you shot George a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand, "I’m sure it’ll be a fun night.”

Softening at your touch and returning your smile, George eased up, "Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just enjoy ourselves."

– – –

As the car pulled up to the entrance of Billionaire, the vibrant energy of the exclusive club spilt out onto the street. Lights flashed and the sound of music and laughter filled the air.

The valet opened the car door for Toto and you quickly followed suit, stepping out, feeling the excitement of the night ahead.

Extending a hand to help you out, Toto glanced at you expectantly, "Shall we?"

Accepting his large hand in yours, you felt the electricity between you once again. Careful to not hold on for too long, once righted you let go and turned to George with a smile "Let’s go."

George shot another strange look at Toto as he slipped his arm around your waist possessively, making your way into the club.

– – –

Having found John, James, Cara and Marion once inside, you were now all settled into a plush booth, beginning to relax and enjoy the evening. Drinks flowed freely and the conversation turned lively.

"This place is incredible!" Marion shouted over the band playing, raising her glass. "Here’s to an unforgettable night!"

"Cheers to that!" John echoed, clinking glasses with everyone.

You noticed Toto sitting close to you, his arm resting casually on the back of the booth. George was on your other side, his arm protectively around your waist. The proximity of both men not helping your situation.

– – –

As the night progressed, the music drew you to the dance floor. Catered to an older European crowd, some interesting tunes were being played but you made the most of it and let loose.

You, Cara, and Marion danced together, laughing and letting the music take over. If someone had told you a few days ago that you’d enjoy tearing the dance floor up to Abba’s Dancing Queen with the two older women you would have called them crazy. But stranger things had happened.

It wasn’t long before George gave in and joined you for a few songs, his enthusiasm making up for his lack of rhythm, "You’re amazing," George said, pulling you close as you swayed along to Chic, your hips bumping awkwardly as you tried to steer George towards the beat. You smiled, trying to focus on the moment.

"Mind if I cut in?" Toto asked, his voice smooth.

George hesitated but nodded, stepping aside. Toto took your hand, spinning you around effortlessly, keeping perfect rhythm. Dancing with Toto felt different - intense, almost electric.

"You've got some moves, Toto," you said, looking up at him.

"So have you," he replied, his gaze locking with yours. The world seemed to fade away as you moved together, your surroundings a blur as you admired the man in front of you.

Slightly disappointed when the song ended, you broke apart from Toto who turned to Marion with an invitation for the next dance. Making your way back to the booth, the Italian men from lunch had arrived, joining the group. It emerged that Flavio owned the club and seemed to know everyone there.

"There you are, bella," Marco said, taking your hand. "Shall we dance?"

Before you could respond, Toto reappeared. "She’s with us tonight," he said firmly, his protective side showing.

"Relax, Toto," Flavio laughed. "We’re just having fun."

George, noticing the tension, joined the group. "How about another round of drinks?" he suggested, trying to defuse the situation.

– – –

Feeling overwhelmed, you made your excuses and stepped outside onto the terrace for some fresh air. The cool breeze was a welcome relief from the heat inside and the turmoil that you were feeling. You leaned against the railing, looking out at the twinkling lights of Porto Cervo.

"Mind if I join you?" Toto’s deep voice came from behind you.

You nodded, feeling the tension between you. "It’s beautiful out here," you said softly.

"Not as beautiful as you," he replied, stepping closer.

You turned to face him, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. "Toto, I..."

Before you could finish, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left you breathless. It was everything you had imagined and more.

After a few moments, you pulled away, your mind racing. "I can’t do this, Toto."

Toto looked at you, his eyes full of longing, "Why not?"

Taking a step back, your voice trembling slightly you replied, "Because... because it’s not right. I’m with George. I’m flattered but…"

Just as you were starting to articulate your feelings, you were rudely interrupted by John’s loud laughter. Jumping apart, the two of you tried your best to act natural as he joined you out on the terrace.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Stealing a quiet moment, are we?" he said, swaggering over.

Trying to maintain composure and forcing a smile you replied, "Just needed some fresh air. It’s boiling in there."

Laughing, John exclaimed, "I bet! Those Italians really know how to throw a party, don’t they?"

His demeanour shifting totally, Toto smiled at John, "Indeed. They certainly do."

Slapping Toto on the back, John was drunk and clearly wanting to have a chat, "You know, I was just telling George that he’s a lucky man. Not every day you meet someone who shines as brightly as this young lady, isn’t that right, Toto?"

Toto smiled firmly, his eyes flicking to you with an unreadable expression, "Absolutely. George is a very lucky man."

Blushing and feeling the weight of both their gazes you replied, "Thanks guys, you sure know how to make a girl blush."

Leaning on the railing beside you, looking out at the view, John continued, "So, are you two coming back inside? The party’s just getting started."

Taking a deep breath, needing a moment to gather your thoughts, you countered, "I think I’ll stay out here for a little while longer. I need a bit more fresh air."

John seemed okay with this, "Alright but don’t stay out here too long. You’ll miss all the fun!"

Giving you a final, lingering look before turning to follow John back inside, Toto added, "Take your time. We’ll see you in a bit."

As John and Toto disappeared back inside, you leaned back against the railing, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions. The kiss, Toto’s words, John’s interruption - it was all too much. You needed to make some decisions and soon. But for now, you allowed yourself a few more moments of solitude, letting the cool night air calm your racing heart.

– – –

You stayed outside for ten minutes before returning to the club, trying to act normal despite the kiss still lingering on your lips.

"There you are!" Marion called out. "We were wondering where you went."

"Just needed some air," you said, forcing a smile, feeling like the worst liar in the world.

“Heyyyyy…” said George, dancing over to you, two drinks in his hands and a cigar in his mouth, “There’s my girl. I missed you.”

He was drunk out of his mind. Possibly not the worst thing as he would be less likely to notice your nerves. “Hi love.” you said, steadying him as he wobbled beside you, setting the drinks down precariously on the edge of the table.

“Do you want to dance again? He asked sweetly, taking your hand in his.

“Sure.” you said, hoping you could distract yourself from what the hell just happened out on the terrace. Toto had called you beautiful and kissed you. Knowing full well that you were in a relationship with George. What was he playing at?

You didn’t see Toto for a while as he had disappeared into the crowd, likely chatting business somewhere. Instead you hung onto George, who was all too eager to try and impress you on the dancefloor and whisper his plans for what he had in store on return to your cabin.

– – –

As the night progressed, the music at Billionaire ramped up and the drinks flowed more and more freely. Marion and John, in particular, were far gone, their laughter becoming louder and their movements more erratic. All you could do was watch on in amusement as they twirled aimlessly.

Slurring her words and waving her glass around Marion exclaimed, "This music is amaaazing! Whoo!"

Attempting to dance with his wife but stumbling a bit, John added, "You’re the best, Marion! Let’s show them how it’s done!"

Sitting at the booth with the rest of your group, you smiled as you leaned into James and said, "I think we need to rescue them before they fall over."

Nodding, trying to suppress his laughter, he agreed, "Yeah, probably a good idea. They’re a bit out of control."

Not faring much better was George, trying to keep up with the conversation at the table but slightly slurring his words.

Gesturing wildly he told the group excitedly, "And then, Toto here, he’s like the king of the yachts! No one can beat him!"

Smiling, slightly amused, Toto ruffled George’s hair affectionately, "Easy there, George. Maybe you’ve had enough."

You watched the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and concern. Despite the drunken antics around you, your thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss. Toto was acting like nothing had happened.

Just as you were contemplating slipping away for another breather, Marion stumbled over to the booth, nearly knocking over a table.

Giggling uncontrollably, she leaned down to hug you tightly, "You guys, you’re the best! I love you all!"

Trying to join in and almost falling into the booth, John added, "Yeah, what she said! Best night ever!"

Amidst the laughter and chaos, Toto caught your eye, a knowing look passing between you. Despite the fun atmosphere, the unresolved tension hung heavy in the air.

– – –

As the night came to an end, the group stumbled their way out of the cars and back up onto the yacht, the crew helping your tipsier companions safely up the passarelle and into their cabins. You felt a mix of emotions - confusion, excitement, guilt. George held your hand, but your mind was on Toto.

As he had headed to his cabin, he had given you a lingering look before disappearing down the hall, "Goodnight, everyone."

“Goodnight boss!” shouted George, still struggling to stand up straight.

“Goodnight.” you added, much more quietly.

Entering your cabin, George turned to you, sensing your distraction. "You okay?"

Closing the door behind you, you took a deep breath, knowing it was time to confront the truth. Your heart raced as you met George's gaze. "George, I need to tell you something..."

He looked at you with concern, his grip on your hand tightening. "What is it?"

Your voice trembled as you forced the words out. "Tonight, out on the terrace... I kissed Toto."

The confession hung heavy in the air, the silence stretching between you. George's expression flickered with shock and hurt, his thoughts racing as he processed your words.

Before either of you could speak further, a knock on the cabin door shattered the moment. Toto’s voice followed, cutting through the tension. "We need to talk."

And with those four words, the night that had begun with the promise of lighthearted fun took a sharp turn.

Part Six

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen

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writeforfandoms · 2 years ago

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Puppy Love 8

Find the series masterlist

Well. Here we are. The last chapter of this fic. I may return to revisit this lot, especially if anyone has any prompts or requests. But this is the last chapter of the main story.

There is an unspecified time jump here. I’ll leave it to y’all to decide how long they’ve known each other now.

Warnings: Overwhelming fluff, a teeny bit of spice.

Word count: 1k

Gaz didn’t even see Ghost coming. He was just minding his business when he got collared and dragged into a side room.

“Need your help,” Ghost said without preamble, releasing Gaz.

“With what?” Gaz asked, rubbing a hand over his chest, willing himself not to have a heart attack.

“Need you to keep Price busy today.”

That got his attention, and he narrowed his eyes a little. “How busy?”

“Busy enough that he won’t notice a visitor.”

Gaz’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing.” Ghost sounded like he was smirking under his usual mask. “I’m just an accomplice. You gonna do it or not?”

Gaz huffed out a sigh. “Consider it done.”

Ghost nodded, clapping his shoulder before striding out of the room. Gaz looked down for a moment before he perked up and trotted off to go get Price.

Cupid made an excellent distraction. And he had a lot of energy.

Now he just had to get Price out of his office.

He grinned as an idea occurred to him. Johnny wouldn’t mind getting thrown under the bus this once.

–

“You’re sure this is fine?” you asked Simon, yet again, as he grabbed one of the bags from the back of your car.

“Yeah, I cleared it.” He nodded once, absently patting the top of Sasha’s head when she whined a little. “This way.”

You followed him, one bag in hand and Sasha’s leash held tight in your other hand. You were a little nervous, but just a little. John didn’t know you were here, wouldn’t know until you were ready for him to know. Simon had assured you it was taken care of. And you weren’t going to question his methods.

The briefing room was mostly empty, with just a few chairs and a single table. That was enough. There would only be five of you, after all.

You’d come prepared - food was already cooked and kept warm in the insulated bags, and you’d made a pie. (John had commented once that most cake was too sweet, and you’d managed to wheedle his favorite pie flavor out of him. That had been fun.) You weren’t going to bother with decorations. Really, this wasn’t a big thing, because you knew John would hate a lot of people fussing over him.

Especially since you’d missed his actual birthday by a week and a half. Dangers of the job, you supposed.

Simon glanced at you once everything was set out on the table, Sasha sniffing the air hopefully. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Just need to do this.” You fished something out of your pocket, taking a moment to clip it onto Sasha’s collar where you knew John would see it. Better than attaching it to her harness, at any rate. “Okay, let’s go.”

You kept Sasha on a short leash as Simon led you outside and to the field. John stood with his hands on his hips, Kyle and Soap in front of him and Cupid in between them. Only Cupid was… a lot more white than he should be. You nearly gave yourself away with the hiccuped laugh that tried to escape, Simon flapping an impatient hand at you.

“Okay Sasha,” you whispered, crouching down next to the Lab, who had spotted her favorite person and was straining against the leash with her desire to get to him. “Go get John! Go get him!” You unclipped the leash from her harness and she bolted, bounding straight for John.

He didn’t stand a chance.

She slammed straight into him, fifty pounds of pure muscle and energy, and he went down with a yell. She pounced, feet planted on either side of his head as she enthusiastically licked him all over, undoubtedly going to nibble on his muttonchops too. You grinned as you and Simon approached, able to watch as John finally shoved Sasha off enough to sit up.

“Where’d you come from, girl?” John asked quietly, tousling Sasha’s ears. You saw the moment his gaze caught on her collar and, more importantly, the key hanging from a little carabiner. He lifted his gaze, eyes wide, until he spotted you. You twiddled your fingers at him in a playful wave as you sauntered closer.

You were not expecting John to grab you and pull you down with him, kissing you within an inch of your life (much to the amused cheering and whistling of his team).

Someone got Sasha clipped back to her leash and the group of you trooped back inside. John didn’t say a word, slanting a look at you, but he didn’t object, either.

Dinner was everything you had hoped and more. The team devoured practically everything you’d made. The dogs mostly behaved. And Sasha’s collar jingled, reminding you and John both of the key hanging there.

As soon as dinner was done, Soap and Kyle jumped to volunteer to take things back to your car. Simon already had your key (and you swatted his arm for that) and in moments all three of them were gone.

Leaving you, John, and Sasha.

“It’s yours, now,” you murmured, pulling a couple treats out of your pocket and getting Sasha to sit. The key caught the light, plain silver.

“You’re sure?” John took the key off her collar, laying it flat in the palm of his hand.

“Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.” You smiled at him, reaching over to curl his fingers closed over the key. “Happy birthday, love.”

John pulled you into his chest, kissing the breath right from your lungs.

#puppy love #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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neteyamssyulang · 6 months ago

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▸ Sinful Temptations ▸

▸ Pairing: Alastor x Fem doe reader ▸

▸ Summary: You thought your wedding night would go well considering how sweet he had been, man were you wrong.

▸ Warnings: Arranged marriage, Mentions of slight abuse, Manipulation, Oral (M receiving), Creepy vibes from John, Cheating, Drowning, Death, Decapitation.

▸ Word count: 4,149 ▸

▸ A/N: My longest fic by far so hope you all enjoy! <3 Just for clarification, This takes place in the 1960’s🥲

▸ Also, I know this is an Alastor story but he only makes an appearance at the end, the other chapters will involve him alot more I promise😭. This is just meant to be a backstory for reader since in future chapters there will be references to this and how it affects her and Alastors relationship <3

▸ Tagging: @aria-tempest @alastorthirsty

The day you were born your parents were overjoyed, their beautiful baby girl had finally been born into the world.

Unfortunately though, this came at a price. See even with your father working as a buss driver and your mother doing homecare, they still barely had enough to raise their little girl and pay all the bills.

So a deal had to be made, much to your mothers distaste. She would've been fine living this way if it meant her daughter could choose her own path, your father only wanted what was best for you regardless of the price he was willing to take.

There was one wealthy family that was very well known, they were selfish, stuck up and just so awful. All they wanted was more and more land for themselves, offering money to those who were dumb enough to sell their property.

With the help of a family friend, your father managed to sign a contract with the family stating that your parents would be able to keep their house and get the money. As long as on the day you turn 18, you would be wed to their son, John.

-18 years later-

"Mom I'm going out!" You called out to your mother who was in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. "Alright sweetie, be safe" she responded.

Humming, you opened the front door making sure it gets shut behind you then started walking to the meet up spot you and your friend have.

It wasn't very far, maybe only a 7 minute walk or so. Your mother loved your friendship while your father dispised it, he thought that females shouldn't have male friends.

Nevertheless you kept your friendship, only going to see him when your dad was working.

Soon enough you made it to the spot, it was a quiet area in the park with flowers surrounding it.

"Y/n you made it!" Andrew exclaimed, walking over and engulfing you in a tight hug. Smiling, you hugged him back before pulling away "Wouldn't miss it Andi."

Taking your hand, he led you to the clearing where you both sat down "I can't believe we won't be able to see eachother after this.." he spoke softly.

Sighing, you pulled your hand free "Andi we can still see eachother, it will just have to be in sec-" "Why are you lying to yourself?!" He cut you off, startling you a bit.

"You know that the minute you marry that selfish skumbag, we won't see each other again. People like him don't socialize with people like us.." he spoke, turning to look you in the eyes "You can't marry him y/n."

Looking down, you hugged your knees to your chest "I don't have much of a choice, this was already planned since I was born Andi."

Andrew scoffed, "So that's it then? You're just going to be the wife of a stuck up rich boy whom he will never care about?" Shaking his head he stood up "You're going to turn out just like them."

Before you had a chance to reply back, Andrew was already walking away. Why was he so upset with you? It's not like you had a choice in the matter. Did you want to marry him? Hell no, you wanted to find someone who would genuinely love and care for you.

But this is how it had to be, the deal had long been done. Once marrying John, you would become his little housewife and maid from what your father told you.

Standing up, you brushed the dirt and grass off your dress before starting the walk back home.

"And where have you been young lady?" You heard as soon as you entered the house. Gulping, you took off your shoes and walked into the kitchen seeing your father and mother.

Your mouth opened or speak but nothing came out, instead you went to the table and sat down."Well? Speak up child" he spoke.

"I-" "I sent her on an errand for me, to drop off something at the neighbors. You know how much they love her so they probably made her stay for tea" your mother calmly said.

Meeting his gaze, you could see your father raise a brow at the both of you but shrug it off afterwards "Alright then. Well as you know my daughter, your 18th birthday will be coming up in two days time. Until then, The chanlers have been most gracious to let you stay there with them. Gives you and their son time to get to know one another."

Your mother clenched her fists, she hated this, hated that her daughter had to marry such a skumbag of a boy. She could never go against your father though, too afraid to try and reason with him.

"Something you would like to add my dear?" He asked her, your mother shook her head "No.. I have nothing to say darling."

Everything went quiet after that, you all ate in silence besides the occasional talk of how everyone's day went.

Once everyone was finished with dinner, you were excused to go to your room and start packing since you would be getting picked up tomorrow by the chanlers butler.

You placed your suitcase by the door as soon as you got everything you would need packed, changed into your pajamas you had left out and got into bed, turning off the lamp.

Tomorrow would be fine.. you would just be going to stay with your soon to be husband's family that's it, nothing bad would happen..

Right?

Wrong.

The next morning you woke up to your mother bawling her eyes out, confused you got out of bed and opened the door to your room when your dads yelling caught you by surpise.

"She is going to their house and staying there do you understand?! You know better than to go against the deal, know better than to go against me!" He shouted at your mother,

Did he?.. no he couldn't have.. your father wasn't the type to hit a woman. Nevertheless you backed away silently from the door, changed out of your pajamas and into a simple blue dress with stockings then pulled your hair up into a small bun.

You tried not to let tears fall, worrying about your mother. Your father was never like this, sure it wasn't the best to go against your husband as a woman but hitting?..

The door to your room swung open with your father looking angry, he marched over and grabbed you by your right arm "You're leaving, now. I don't care if you haven't eaten or aren't fully dressed, your getting out of this house right now!" He yelled.

Grabbing your suitcase with his other hand he dragged you out the room, down the hallway and to the front door where he threw you and the suitcase on the ground all awhile your mother stood in the kitchen looking away.

You could see the mascara lines running down her face from her tears, it made your heart ache since you knew she just wanted to help and keep her baby safe.

All that was short lived from your fathers voice "Get up and go to the Chanlers car, there is a surpise guest waiting for you" he simply said before slamming the door.

Not having much of a choice, you got up dusting your dress off, grabbed your suitcase then walked to the car.

Someone who you would presume as the butler came around the car, "Allow me, madam" he opened the door to the backseat and once you were in he closed it. Following that, he took your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car before making his way back to the drivers seat, starting on the drive to the Chanlers residence.

Upon getting into the car you noticed him right away, "Well if it isn't my future wife" he spoke smugly, moving closer towards you.

"H-hello" you spoke softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable by him moving closer. Either he noticed or he didn't care since he took your right hand in his, bringing it to his lips kissing it."Is the little girl shy?" He teased, placing his left hand on your cheek.

Your heartbeat increased and not in the good way at that, sure he was semi good looking (not really) and all but his breath reeked of fish.

It made you want to vomit but you chose to instead hold a fake smile "Not shy, just um uncomfortable kind of.."

John raised a brow, "Uncomfortable around me? Your soon to be husband in two days?" He scoffed, but quickly smirked and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

The action would've made your flutter if it wasn't in such a creepy way."You sadden me sweetheart, but I know how you can make up for it."

Your eyes met his and you spoke softly,"How can I make up for it?" John moved away, sitting with his back against the door and one leg up on the seat with his other on the ground still.

He beckoned you over with two fingers which you obeyed, moving over but stopped when he held his hand up "On your hands and knees baby, this is how you can be a good girl and make it up to me."

Nodding, you moved to your hands and knees causing a grin to appear on his face "What a good listener you are." John pulled down his pants just enough for his cock to spring out, his tip already oozing pre-cum.

He placed his left hand on the back of your head, guiding you down onto his cock "Don't bite, there will be consequences if you do" he spoke.

Your jaw ached, being force to stretch to take his length. John grunted as he began to guide your movements, breathy moans leaving his lips.

His hand soon disappeared from your head and you could've swore you heard the sound of a camera shutter go off. "Such a good toy, that's all you are for me hm? Just a little toy for me to use as I please."

Tears welt up in your eyes and you felt nauseous as if you were about to throw up, either from his words or the smell radiating off of him.

With your constant squirming trying to get away, he eventually huffed and pushed you off him "Ugh, the girls in my neighborhood can suck dick better than you. What are you even good for?!" He snapped, making you flinch.

"Pathetic."

The rest of the car ride stayed in silence, he had already tucked himself back into his pants by the time the car stopped infront of the Chanlers residence.

John didn't even bother to help, he just got out the car slamming the door shut then walked to the front door of the mansion heading inside.

Looking down, you got out the car closing it when the butler cleared his throat behind you "If I may madam, do not let master John belittle you. The boy cannot even brush his teeth or shower without needing help, his parents are no different."

A small smile formed on your face,"I will try not to, and yeah I kind of figured when I got into the car with him." The butler, who's name you know now as chives took your suitcase while chuckling softly.

"This way madam, I will show you to your chambers" he spoke, starting to lead the way inside.

The mansion was huge, as expected. On the left side was a medium sized library along with what you think is the living room, while on the right side was the dining area along with a big kitchen.

Each wall was hung with either family portraits, animal heads or just small portraits of John, the flooring was a beige color with gold swirls while the walls were a beautiful pink pearl.

In the middle of all this, a grand staircase stood. Chives led you up the staircase, down the long hallway where you turned right then finally stopped at a door,"This one is yours madam."

Reaching a hand out, you turned the knob and pushed the door open gently. Stepping inside your eyes widened, this room looked bigger than your house.

It had a beautiful bed with a light pink and gold canopy ontop, a bathroom, large walk in closet that was fully stocked with jewelry, shoes, heels, dresses etc. Hell it even had a space that looked to be a medium sized library of your own, chives must've seen your excitement as he set your suitcase down and dismissed himself.

The sound of the door closing brought you out of your thoughts, this place was beautiful yes, if only the people living here were nice too. There were no expectations that the parents were nice, they were probably the worst ones here besides John.

Two days came around fast, faster than you had hoped. One of the maids named Hellen was tasked with getting you into your wedding dress along with fixing up your hair, she was quite nice actually.

Hellen had been working for the Chanlers for a few years now, not because she had to but because she wanted to. Even though they were stuck up and rude to everyone, the lady of the house who’s name was Priscilla never made any remarks to Hellen.

She was like a mother to her in a way so Hellen always felt welcome and safe there, unlike the other staff members who would get verbally abused 24/7.

Currently, you were standing on a platform in front of the large mirror in your room while Hellen made some adjustments on your dress.

The dress stopped just below your ankles, it was strapless with lace going around towards the bottom. White beads decorated around your waist along with a few gold swirls.

It actually looked pretty beautiful, even if your being married to a complete self centered piece of shit. “I know you do not want to marry master John but please madam, give him a chance he may surpise you” Hellen commented.

You didn’t say anything back, instead opting to nod. Once Hellen was finished, she did a quick bow before leaving the room. Sighing, you stepped off the platform, looking at yourself once more in the mirror then decided to go find where John is.

The halls were now familiar to walk through, you knew where everything was but there was still no sign of your soon to be husband.

Turning the corner, you saw a door slightly ajar down the way with noises coming from it. Curious, you quietly walked towards it and what you heard completely shocked you.

“Yesss! Ha-harder John!” The woman’s voice wailed, “Good girl baby” John muttered to her “Your so much better than that pathetic bitch I have to marry.”

Not wanting to hear anymore of that, you stepped away and started on the walk back to your room. Truthfully you wanted to cry, wanted to just break down then and there but you couldn’t.

This was bound to happen with a man like him, it was going to be your life now. You would just be nothing but a piece of meat for him to use as he pleases, never able to feel what it means to be truly loved.

You will never live out your dream wedding and life with someone who could truely love you, never know real happiness.

All you would know is pain and suffering.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the doors while they opened, all eyes were now on you as the wedding march began playing.

Your hands began shaking a bit, in reality you were never good with crowds. It made your anxiety go up big time, unfortunately though you had no choice with this. So slowly you began making your way towards the alter.

A fake smile plastered on your face the whole walk up, upon reaching him you gave the flowers to Hellen who came up to you smiling “You look so beautiful madam, master John will surely think so aswell.”

You managed a small thank you, watching as she sat back down beside Priscilla before you felt a forceful jerk on your hands as you were now standing in front of him.

Leaning in he muttered, “Be good for me and this will all go smoothly ok?” then stood up straight again with a smile on his face.

Rolling your eyes you kept the fake smile on your face while the wedding officiant began speaking.

“Welcome, We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Y/n L/n and John Chanler. We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends. Y/n and John are overjoyed that you are able to join us here today” he starts.

All you could think about as he was talking was that this was all a lie, these people didn’t know that this was an unfortunate arranged marriage, they didn’t know that you didn’t want this.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the officiater spoke “There are no vows more meaningful and powerful than those which will be shared here today. Your wedding vows are a sacred declaration of your love for each other, the foundation of your relationship as a married couple, and the life you want to build together. Please face each other as you declare these vows to one another. John, you may start.”

Clearing his throat, John rubbed your hands gently with his thumbs while looking into your eyes “I, John, take you, Y/n to be my wedded wife. I promise to stand by your side through good and bad times, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you and love you unconditionally for the rest of my days.”

“Y/n, please now make your vows.”

You stood there silent for a few moments, were you really about to do this? Give your life away all so your parents deal could be finalized?

John squeezed your hands, glaring at you as a way of saying ‘Hurry up with it’

Sighing, you finally spoke “I, Y/n, take you, John to be my wedded husband. I promise to stay by your side through good and bad times, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you and love you unconditionally for the rest of my days.”

The rest was all a blur, whereas you would’ve meant some of it John didn’t mean any of that. He would leave you the first chance he got for another woman, not bothering to care if anything would happen to you.

“Do you, John, take this woman to be your wedded wife?” The officiater spoke, looking between the both of you. John nodded “I do”

Oh fuck it was gonna be your turn now..“And do you, Y/n, take this man to be your wedded husband?” Your eyes adverted from his for a second, your smile fading “I.. I do..”

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss.” Your now husband didn’t waste any time, he pulled you in and smashed his lips against yours making everyone clap and cheer.

You managed to push him away after a couple seconds, not standing the taste of him. The last thing the officiater spoke was “It is with great honor and delight that I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Chanler.”

Normally one would’ve had a wedding reception but nope, John had managed to wisk you away, driving the both of you to his own mansion. It was apparently a wedding gift to you and him by his parents.

The car soon stopped two hours later with John getting out almost instantly, for once though he walked to your side, opening the door and helped you out of the car, “My beautiful bride” he smiled.

Your brows furrowed, why was he acting so…nice? As if he could read your mind John chuckled, “What? Can’t a guy be nice to his perfect little wife?”

Giving you no time to answer, your husband picked you up bridal style causing a small squeak to leave your lips.

As soon as you reached the doors, a butler was already there opening them for you both. “Now, a tour can wait till tomorrow. Right now why don’t we enjoy a nice swim hm?” He offered, already walking up the staircase and to your shared room.

“That sounds nice actually” you giggled, feeling a bit more comfortable around him. Why he’s being nice you have no clue, but it’s better than him acting like a dick that’s for sure.

The two of you got changed into your swim suits, his was simple black trunks while yours was a grey two piece. You had layed your dress out on the bed so it wouldn’t get all wrinkly in the closet, later you’d find a nice place to put it.

John had led you downstairs, down the hall, and to the large glass doors where a different butler opened them. The backyard was beautiful, filled with a large pool, grilling area, a hot tub, even a small playground for future children.

Too excited you ran towards the pool, jumping inside once reaching it. The water felt so cool and refreshing on your skin, kicking off the bottom of the pool you resurfaced, breathing in much needed air.

“Having fun baby?” John asked, hanging by the edge of the pool in the shallow end. Smiling, you swam towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, “I really am, this is perfect. Thank you John, your really not so bad after all.”

Laying your head against his chest, you sighed happily. It had seemed like he had changed, like he now genuinely loved you.

Unfortunately, that was all he needed to complete his plan. Placing his right hand on your hip, he used his left to quietly slip a knife out from his trunks and slowly brought it to the middle of your back before impaling it into you.

You choked on a gasp, feeling searing hot pain coursing through your body. “Did you really think that I would ever love someone like you? Your weak” he scoffed, twisting the knife in you.

A pained scream left you as tears pricked at your eyes “B-but I..” “Shut up!” He cut you off, pushing you down into the water.

The next few moments were you trying to get away but failing miserably, John now had both hands on your shoulders keeping you underneath the water.

The knife had already been pulled out so blood oozed out of your wound and into the pool, turning it a dark crimson color.

He watched as the life eventually left your eyes, your body going limp. Humming, he picked up your lifeless body then got out the pool.

“You actually did it? You killed her?” The woman from earlier spoke, “Yes Mary, the bitch actually thought I loved her” he laughed.

Mary chuckled, taking out her own dagger “Lay her down for me will you?” John obliged setting you down on the grass, watching as Mary kneeled down slicing your head clean off your body.

Standing back up, they both walked inside where Mary mounted your head on the wall. “She looks much better like this doesn’t she?” Mary purred, laying her head against John’s shoulder.

“She sure does babe, come on” John took her hand, leading her upstairs to your shared room. “Since she’s no longer here, why not try on your wedding dress?” He suggested, picking up your wedding dress from the bed and handing it to her.

Blushing, Mary took it and changed into the dress before admiring herself in the large mirror on the door. “She was so stupid, her and her family. They really thought this deal of theirs would work.” Mary giggled, turning to face John who only smirked “Fuck them and fuck her, she’s better off gone.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

*Meanwhile in hell*

“Alastor, you really should visit more. We have this festival coming up, you should come!” Rosie exclaimed, taking a sip of her tea.

Alastor merely chuckled,“My dear Rosie, I would love to join you bu-“ he’s cut off when a scream sounded in the air and something landed ontop of him, causing his seat to fall back onto the ground.

Rosie’s eyes widened with both excitement and curiosity upon peering over the table, “Oh my satan..”

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