#either ways it's something that pisses off john when he hears it
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Filthy Dog
MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader
Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”
You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you.
You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.
“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.
“No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”
“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?”
Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”
Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”
Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot.
“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?”
he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.”
Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight.
“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.
You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.
A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.
You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.
“Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.
Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.
“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.
“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave.
“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”
You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!”
“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”
-
Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?”
“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”
“He’s not-”
The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.
God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him.
Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”
“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.
”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?”
Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.”
“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him.
Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out.
Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips.
He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest.
You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up.
He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.
The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.
A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.
As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.
Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed.
You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body.
His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react.
You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs. -
You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.
You nodded.
“Good.” he sighed.
#batting my lashes at you all. this au makes me feel insane#john soap mactavish#soap#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#x reader#cloth writes
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See three weed smoking girlfriends is the name, and thats way too much context for BOE names. Itd be some random part of it like "And Yes They Smoke Weed"
I accept this. It would sound really portentous and epic. Among BoE, "Yes They Smoke Weed" is believed to have been part of a hymn describing a ritual once practised to confer clarity of mind. The "three girlfriends" part of the fragment appears to imply that the ritual involved an orgy
#Also. if we think about it really hard we can find another meaning for 'smoking weed' among BoE#that has something to do with the revolution#Maybe it's a term used to refer to the controlled fires#used to clear patches of invasive thanergy-fuelled vegetable lifeforms#that spring up once a planet is flipped and are harmful to the native ecosystem#Or maybe the weeds are the seedling of necromancy that must be destroyed.#either ways it's something that pisses off john when he hears it#anonymous#ask#tlt#blood of eden
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Hello Cali ❤️. Por alguna razón no te había visto más en mi muro de tumblr y me preguntaba si no estabas aquí, por eso busqué tu perfil y me di cuenta que tumblr me estaba jugando una mala pasada.
How are you??? I'm so busy because I have a loooot of work, pero me tomaré el tiempo de leer todo lo que me perdí de ti ✨✨✨
YOU ARE THE BEST, OK? I LOVE YOU ❤️💍
Quisiera que escribieras un smut de John Price CEO/Mafia con un Reader inteligente y astuto, que queda cautivado cuando John comienza a seducirla, porfis ✨
Anything for you, my friend!! I love you so much <3 <3
Wonderland
John Price is a famous mob boss... but you don't know that. All you know is that you've got a crush on a mysterious, handsome man, and you're willing to go all the way to find out if his bite is as bad as his bark.
The parking garage was dark, and the concrete seemed to hold in the cold like a freezer. It felt like ice on his cheekbone, and not even the blood from his eye socket was enough to warm the skin. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, that odd whooshing sound, and in a distant memory he could recall the first time he had ever gotten a black eye. But, all that was gone now. He had ratted out the one man that no one had dared fuck with in the past five years: John Fucking Price.
Those fucking coppers had said they’d protect him. He even had his people outside his house every hour of every day. How could this happen? He had to admit, he wasn’t even scared, he was just pissed off. Fucking bastards. They’d get what was coming to them. Maybe he’d tell them so. Not like they'd give him any more chances.
“Fuck you, Price. I hope those pigs skin you alive,” he spit out the blood that had began to pool in his mouth, and hoped it hit those stupid boots John was always wearing.
John Price slid his shoe away from the red stain that had began to swell on the ground, keeping his kangaroo leather Berlutis from ruin. The fool beneath his feet had no idea what was about to happen to him, and John almost felt sorry about it, if only for a moment. He and Vinson had been friends once. Hell, he’d even stood up at his wedding.
“Vince, what did I tell you about that bloody mouth of yours? Said it'd get you into trouble, didn't I? Wish there was something I could do for you now, cause you and me, we used to be mates. But, I can't afford friends like you. Not anymore," Price gave the rat a quick shove with his heel and watched as the stain smeared in a thin streak across the cement. He turned to his men,
"Well, lads, I've got a party to get to. You wouldn't mind cleaning things up here for me, would’ya?"
"No, boss," was their quiet reply.
"You'll be sorry, you goddamn pussy!" Vinson was screaming now, "I hope they hang you from the fuckin’-”
Bang! The loud gunshot echoed through the hollow space.
Vinson didn't say anything after that.
"Let's get outta here, Gaz."
"Right away, boss," Gaz opened the door to the limo and prepared to drive John back into the city. There was a big gala at the Genting Casino tonight, and Mr. John T. Price was never late.
He was never early either. In fact, he was perfection incarnate. When he was younger, that wasn't always the case, but after his father died, he had needed to change. No one was fit to rule Liverpool in his stead, and he was thankful that no one had been foolish enough to try. His father had made this town what it is. Liverpool was built by his family, and even though everyone thought the Price regime had grown tired of their reign on the old docks, they couldn't have been farther from the truth.
John had his cut from all of the major casinos, and he traded security in exchange. He owned two of them himself, along with four shopping malls, five bars, three neighborhoods, two apartment complexes, and a golf course - not to mention the property that wasn't in his name. He made sure to give his men plenty of reign over their own enterprises, even if most of them were strip clubs. But, he didn't care. As long as tribute came in every quarter, he never messed around in their business.
He thought Vinson was one he could trust. He'd even given him a car dealership just last month.
"Don't run it into the ground, Vince," he had said.
But, no. What had the little bastard gone and done? Put a tracker on his car and dropped bugs in his office. After everything he'd done for him, that's how he was repaid? To tell the truth, John never liked violence. It was awkward. But, his father had given him fists and showed him how to use them, so there was really no going against it. Violence and fear were vital pieces of the only language that men like Vince could understand. Now, with another family coming to Liverpool, John had to be on his best behavior. Even if 'best' was a little more loosely defined.
As he lit the tip of his last cigar, he reminded Gaz to grab him another few sticks on the way home. Gaz would've never turned coat on him like Vince did. He'd give him the car lot.
"You want the dealership on Sefton street, Kyle?" He offered.
"Sure, boss. Thanks a lot," Gaz smiled, knowing exactly which business he was talking about, "You want me to pull around back?"
They had arrived at the main entrance. Throngs of people were craning around the limo, trying to see who was inside. John thought about it for a second, smushed his cigar tip into the ashtray, and adjusted his tie.
"Nah," he said, "We'll give them the show tonight."
"Sure thing, boss."
Gaz parked the car and leapt out of the cab. His hand was on the door before John could take another breath, and on either side of the door, some of Price’s own foot soldiers took up their posts as bodyguards. When he emerged from the muffled quiet of the limo, it shocked John for a moment to be in such a whirl of chaos.
"Mr. Price, can I get a photo?"
"Over here, please, Mr. Price," a cute reporter was frantic enough to step in front of his men. They picked her up and put her back in the crowd.
John made sure to smile and wave, shake hands with those he had seen before, but he knew it was safer inside.
The manager greeted him warmly and, he noted, by first name,
"John! Good to see you again, mate. We've got just the table for you, tonight. Wait til you see the legs on these girls! It'll be a night to remember."
"I'm sure it will."
"Ah, sorry, but we don't allow weapons past the main floor," the manager's face fell. So did Kyle’s.
Gaz cleared his throat,
"I'm sure you can make an exception for Mr. Price. We'll be very discreet."
It was more of a threat than a promise, and John smiled at his friend's heavy tone. Kyle was anything if not polite.
"Uh, yes, we can certainly make arrangements. Right this way, gentlemen," and now the manager was nothing if not nervous. Perfect.
The night continued as well as it could, but he had never really enjoyed gambling. Why make all this money if he was just going to throw it into the wind? But, he could mingle with the right people here. Except that these weren't his people. He had come as a favor to his long time friend, Alex Keller, but Alex was nowhere to be found.
"Passed out on his missus’ tits, probably!" One of the strangers guffawed at the other end of the Blackjack table.
"He’ll show, don't you worry," another replied.
Well, John didn't have all night to wait on a man to get to his own party. He needed a drink. When he rose to head to the bar, Gaz stopped him,
"I'll get it, boss. No need to bother yourself with it."
The table was silent. The strangers who had been so brassy before were now silent and transfixed on the pair of men at their table, one of whom was important enough to have his slightest whim catered to at a moment's notice.
"It's alright, Garrick. Play my hand, yeah? I'm headed out for a smoke."
"Yes, sir."
John retreated. The awkward stares and weird glances were too much for him to bear. Surely there was a patio around here, somewhere.
By the time he found one, he was disappointed to see it was occupied.
"Oh, beg your pardon. Thought I was alone out here," he said.
To his shock, it was a woman's voice that responded from the shadows. Your voice.
"You're fine. You got a light? Fuckin’ matches are all wet..." You fumbled with the book, striking to no avail.
He smirked,
"I have the fire if you've got an extra smoke."
"Fair trade," you smiled back jokingly.
You were dressed in a clean chef's coat, your hair was pulled up, and you might have been going without makeup, but it was almost too dark to tell. It certainly wasn't casino makeup, that was for sure. John watched as you tugged two cigarettes free from the box, put them to your soft lips, and covered his flame with your hand. Your fingernail paint was pink and chipped. You pulled in the fire of both cigarettes and offered one to him. He took it,
"Thanks."
You grunted in a minimal response.
"So, you're a chef?" He asked.
You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him the glare he deserved for such an obvious question.
He back pedaled,
"I mean, you work here as a chef. I just thought, with the coat...I mean, where's your big bloody hat? You need the hat."
You laughed. It was wonderful to hear, and he liked the way your mouth moved when you started to speak,
"Yeah, I work here. Have for the past three years or so. Bill signed me on as head chef, and I've been slaving away for him ever since."
"Bill?"
"Oh, he's the culinary manager. Runs all the restaurants in the casino and the hotel. When the last guy disappeared into thin air, they had to scramble to find someone, I guess. What about you? Where's your fancy hat? Based on that Hermes tie, I'm gonna assume you're here with the party."
He mindlessly adjusted his tie, noticing its feel on his neck as she called it out,
"Well, I might be."
"Yeah? You some kind of big-shot?" You eyed him again, challenging him to answer with something more than a yes or a no. You had heard yes and no plenty of times.
"I might be," he wouldn't give in.
"If we keep going like this all night, you might end up being the Queen, for all I know."
You both laughed, but then, you sighed,
"Oh well, Mr. Mystery. Keep your secrets then," you shrugged and turned away from him.
He couldn't have that.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Sarah," you spun back around, "Rachel. Tiffany. Willamina. Might be anything."
You had the audacity to wink at him.
"Alright, you got me, love," he moved a little closer to you, "I'm John. John Price."
He extended his hand and waited for the bad news to sink in. No one who knew his name in this town would be dumb enough to be on a patio alone with him at night. He had dodged the media for a long time, but his trials always managed to get leaked. Twelve accounts of assault and battery, two separate accounts of theft, three murder charges - all acquitted of course. But, still, he was no stranger to ducking the law.
"John? Of all the names," you shook your head and smiled, taking his hand firmly, "Pleasure to meet you."
"You as well. You've never heard of me?"
"Oh, Jesus," you lamented, "Are you famous or something? Look, if I'm not in the kitchen, I'm at home asleep. Sorry. I don't even watch TV."
"No, nothing like that, I just - " He thought about it for a moment before you saw him decide to take a different trajectory, “Not famous.”
“Why is it that I feel a little bit like Alice tonight?” You took a long drag and let the smoke fall from your lips, “Like I’m following a white rabbit down a deep, dark hole.”
He chuckled, and you enjoyed seeing his eyes shine with his laughter,
“If you follow me down,” he sidled up to you, his face close enough to yours so you could smell the balsam in his aftershave, “I’ll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.”
A man’s voice cleared his throat behind you, and you both turned to look at who it was.
“Garrick?” John asked, clearly annoyed.
“Yes, sir. Johnny and Simon made it up. They said they know why Keller hasn’t shown.”
John didn’t answer. He simply turned back to look into your eyes, trying to divine some sort of future from them. He must’ve liked what he saw because the next thing you knew, you were being given a golden key card. Top floor.
Not famous, my arse, you thought to yourself.
“Why don’t you take the night off, love. Come see Wonderland, yeah? I’ll be right behind you.”
“My, my,” you said, palming the card from him, “No one ever tells you no.”
Another smile, a little colder than the first,
“No, they don’t.”
“Maybe I will,” you pulled the tiger’s tail.
“You won’t,” the tiger growled back.
As you watched him leave the small patio, his broad back stretching that expensive suit, his thick fingers flicking his half-smoked cigarette off the balcony’s edge, you were kicking yourself. You knew you were going up to his room, even though something inside of you really wanted to yank this guy’s chain. But, his dark, purring voice had made Wonderland sound so inviting… maybe just one little peek wouldn’t hurt?
You waited a whole five minutes before slinking off to the service elevator, cutting out for the night. No one was making dinner anyway; it was the bar that was slammed. You’d already cleaned and prepped your station, so no one would miss you.
You ducked into the bathroom just before the top floor, getting off on the service side in an empty hallway, checking your face for stray flour or coffee stained teeth. You smelled like a pizza oven, but maybe you could sneak a shower before he showed up?.
What a slut, you heard the angel on your shoulder chastise you.
So, what? The devil’s side replied, indignant.
You peeled the chef’s coat off of your body. All you had underneath was a black tee. It was cropped a bit too high for work, but you wore it anyway. Your black work pants were covered in flour and dried food. You brushed them off as best you could. It would have to do. You shoved your coat into your bag and headed back to the hallway.
Luckily, the main elevator was vacant, as was the hallway, so you wouldn’t run into any other guests on your way to Wonderland.
The angel rolled his eyes. The devil glared at him.
The elevator dinged, and you inserted the gold card, clicking the very topmost button to the penthouse.
You’d been up here before. Sometimes, you picked up cleaning shifts on your off days for the extra cash, so you knew the layout. But, that had been in the cold, hygienic light of day. At night, this floor was a sparkling vision. When the elevator doors opened, huge clear windows reached all the way into the ceiling, framing Liverpool’s city center, looking more beautiful than it ever seemed from the ground.
You took quiet, uncertain steps out of the lift, checking for any signs of life. There were none, so you made your way to the bathroom. Huge black marble monolith slabs were carved in a semicircle, a nautilus that curled around the four separate shower heads, all ready to pour their steaming water down your naked body.
You stripped, stepping into the stream, letting yourself pretend that you lived in this sort of luxury for a moment. A soft lather of soap and a little shampoo later and you were clean. The single-use toothbrush and paste was in the hidden drawer that no guest would ever notice, so you stole an extra set, scrubbing yourself to a minty shine.
A pair of black satin robes hung in the closet, so you stole one, tying it around your waist, fully aware that one stiff breeze and the loose-fitting garment would fly right off of you. The soft fabric lay against your skin in the most sensual way, barely touching you and yet making you feel touched.
You explored the hotel room a bit, avoiding Mr. Price’s suitcase like it would bite you. The kitchen came stocked with ice buckets of champagne, so you helped yourself to one, pouring a glass and lounging by the window, wondering how long you’d have to wait for your date.
Fortunately for you, only an hour had passed and you heard the elevator ding. Out from the dark lift came the man himself… bleeding from his lip.
“John! What happened?” You put down your wine and rushed over to him.
He held you back, waving you off like it was nothing,
“Don’t worry, love. Just a bit of a scuffle, tha’s all.”
“But —”
“Seriously,” he grabbed you by your arms and looked you up and down, enjoying the wide opening of the robe as it revealed your body to him, “You should see the other bloke. Let me get cleaned up. Pour me one of those, would’ya?”
Before you could protest, he ducked into the bathroom, out of your reach. You were left standing there, worried and a little concerned for your own wellbeing. You didn’t actually know this man at all, and here you were, lamb to the slaughter, eager and bleating happily.
While he was in the bath, you decided to do a little research. You searched up his name, and you were finding almost no hits, until you stumbled upon a mugshot.
There he was… the notorious mob boss, ruler of the English underground arms dealing circuit, enforcer and racketeering extraordinaire. And here you were, nearly naked in his room with not so much as a penknife within reach. This guy had been in the armed forces, special forces, black ops — the works. He retired and fell into the armed security world, making a name for himself by pushing out the competition by any means necessary. His father had maintained ties to the dark underground, and now John had taken over the family business, doing shady deals for the government and crime organizations alike. All of it was hearsay, of course, and none of the charges had ever landed a single hit… but you knew the truth.
John Price was the most dangerous man in the world; Liverpool’s crime arena was just a quiet little hobby for a man like him. If he wanted to, he could make you disappear like a magician behind a mirror. Gone without a trace.
What would you do? Would you run? Where would you go? How would you explain your sudden exit? Food poisoning?
Before you could even begin to formulate a plan, John was out of the shower. He looked incredible. His hulking, heavy form was steaming from the hot water, and his hairy chest was uncovered. He’d slipped into a pair of running shorts and nothing else, so his brutal body was on display for you. He was covered in scars, and he was heavyset, but his largeness was from his strength. His core was bulky and strong, and when he moved, you could see the tight muscles rolling around beneath the skin like a snake ready to strike.
He turned to you, but even though he wore a smile at first, the moment he made eye contact, his face fell. Somehow, he knew that you knew.
He sighed,
“What did you see?”
He rushed over to his suitcase but found it still locked, looking back to you quizzically. You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. John stepped over to you slowly, deliberately, almost as if he was ready for another fight.
You turned your phone towards him and showed him his own mugshot.
“Thought you said you weren’t famous,” you whispered. Your voice sounded so small and far away, you almost felt like you hadn’t spoken the words.
He smiled bitterly, tossing his towel on a nearby chair and sat beside you on the bed,
“Cat’s out of the bag, then?”
“Yeah,” you looked down at your phone, unable to look him in the eye.
“Go on,” he waved his hand at you, motioning toward the door, “Get out.”
You didn’t move. You should have. Every fiber in your being was telling you to make a break for it. Now was your chance. And yet… you stayed. It was silent for a long while. You could feel his gaze raking over you, hot and heavy. His breaths rumbled in his chest.
“Go!” He spat, “No one’s keeping you prisoner here, girl. That’s me, alright, and the newspapers don’t even know the bloody half of it. Just go.”
You reacted to his volume, shirking back a bit, but you still didn’t stand. You looked at him then, searching for the kindness you thought you saw on the patio just hours before, checking to see if it was still there, if it was even real.
When you met his eyes, his fury was masking a very real pain. He was angry, sure, but the ache of being cast out was apparent, even though you were the one doing the leaving, and you just wanted that bit of brightness back again.
John studied you, watching your every movement, trying to determine what you were thinking but coming up short. He stood right in front of you, his hips inches from your face, and he asked,
“What are you waitin’ on, love?”
A strong thumb lifted your chin, raising your jaw up to look at him again, and he used his enormous hand to grab your face, keeping you there under his will.
“I know you’re afraid of me,” he commented softly, “I can feel it.”
“So?” You replied, trying to keep your tone steady.
His voice was bitter and mocking, and as he leaned forward, you could smell his clean, warm skin,
“You wanna play with the big bad wolf, hm? See if I bite?”
He grabbed you a little too tightly, trying to scare you. It worked, but you tried not to show it. Instead, you decided to place both of your hands at his hips, your palms flat against his warm belly, feeling the dark hair that formed a faithful trail, guiding your eyes down to his waistband.
It was his turn to be surprised. You felt his breathing catch as you moved your hands up along his ribcage, rubbing gentle circles into his skin, petting him like a skittish hound, expecting him to snap.
Letting go of your face, he grabbed your wrist, and just as you thought he was going to stop you, he took your hand and placed it on his chest, stretching your arm all the way up from where you were sat, making you extend your spine as you reached up to him. Your fingers traced the fur that lay flat against his pectorals, and finally, you plucked at his nipples, not allowing there to be any question as to your intentions.
The tip of his wide finger dipped into the silken collar of your robe, swirling around your neck and following it down to the swell of your breast. He didn’t find your peak, but he didn’t seem to care to. He was just exploring.
Suddenly, John moved faster than you could even begin to understand what was happening. He had reached under you, lifting you, and then tossed you back down on the bed. You lay, sprawled, trying to catch your bearings, and then you were covered by his huge form, his wide body casting shadows over your vision, cloaking you in his own private darkness.
His mouth was on you like a hot flame, licking and burning and biting and sucking wherever he wanted to, eager to taste every inch of your skin, the imperfections of a wrinkle or a freckle seemed to go fully unnoticed as he devoured you, sucking you down like his last meal.
You were overwhelmed by the pleasure he was stoking inside of you, and you let a small mewling sound escape from your lips that caught his attention.
“Mm,” he climbed up your body so that you were face to face, “Enjoying your walk on the dark side, love? Think you’re tainted by me now? Or maybe that’s what you wanted, is it? Something naughty, just for a night?”
You didn’t understand his negativity, nor the self-deprecation, so you tried to protest,
“No, I —”
“It’s alright. I’ll show you how to be a bad girl. I’ll teach you, love. C’mere.”
His voice was smoldering and sticky, clinging to your ears with some of that same bitterness from before. But, you didn’t have time to worry about that. He was standing by the bedside again, and he grabbed your arms, making your head and shoulders hang part way off of the mattress. You were left staring at his thick thighs and scarred knees, worried about what he was up to.
Then, all became clear. He had dropped his running shorts, and the fattest cock you’d ever seen hung down, shining with drool, ready to be fed into your mouth.
Your eyes went wide, and although you reached your hand out to try and brace against his legs, it was no use. He supported your head from underneath and bent himself over until the tip of his swollen cockhead touched your lips, the gleaming precome sticking to you like gloss.
Unwilling to be frightened by his aggression, you opened your mouth for him, laving your tongue across his turgid flesh, allowing him to press himself inside of you.
His cock was slick on the head but dry on his shaft, so you did your best to wet him, licking and sucking as he pumped himself in and out, already nearing the back of your throat and not even halfway sheathed.
When he nudged your soft palate, making you gag a bit, you made a noise. You tried steadying him with your hand, and he grunted, grabbing both of your arms by the wrist, holding them above your face, clutched to his hip. Then, he continued to fuck your face, ignoring your writhing gasps for breath.
Your throat tightened around him, but you tried to stay calm. You’d never taken anyone this deep before, but you stilled yourself, ignoring the urge to panic, and you made a point to swallow, feeling your throat squeeze around his head. You could taste him as he painted the back of your throat, salty and sweet at the same time.
That made him moan, and you felt like you’d won some sort of battle. If he was trying to frighten you, it was going to take more than just a little rough sex.
“Mm, fuck… Maybe you are a naughty little girl, aye?”
You hummed, making sure you could feel the vibrations travel through his girth.
He removed himself fully, taking a trail of your own drool with him, gasping from the pleasure of your mouth.
“Fuck, I need to taste you,” he muttered darkly, crawling over you and settling himself between your legs.
You tried to lift yourself back onto the bed, but he kept you hanging there, pinning you down with his strong arm, pressing into your belly with his hand to prevent you from sitting up. Finally, after feeling him kiss and nip at your thighs, teasing you mercilessly, you felt the warm, wet slip of his tongue as it fell between your lips, tasting your throbbing pussy for the first time.
The robe was half-off, and only the tie around your waist was even providing any coverage, and you realized that as he began to eat you, he was yanking off your clothes as well, ripping through the knot of the robe to free you from the fabric.
Now, his mouth moved deeper, and you felt him seal his lips to your pussy, messily drinking you in. As he fucked you with his tongue, his mouth and jaw were strong enough to rock your body up and down on the soft bed, making it seem as if he were actually using his smooth wet muscle as a writhing cock, thrusting it up into you and reaching deep into your hole.
The scruff of his beard was enough to make you want to come, much less the power that he ate you with. Every deep, curling lick sent sparks into your core, making your pussy drip with eager stickiness. It was hungry for that fat, uncut cock, forcing you to imagine how delightful it would be when he popped his giant head into your pink flesh.
You were keening for him. Well, it wasn’t exactly for him, per se. The noises you were making were coming from your throat against your will. If you didn’t scream, you’d pass the hell out, you were sure of it.
“Fuck, that’s it, love. Get loud for me. Ungh… you taste… mmfh… so damn sweet,” he was ruthless, speaking between long suckles from his mouth, commanding you from below.
You wished you could see him, but all you could see from your hanging position was the giant window, looking out across the sparkling city. So, you called out to him, your voice thick with want, with need,
“John…”
That was all it took. He tugged your hips down until he was above you again, prowling over you like some sort of beast, all snarling unbridled lust and appetite. As soon as he was in position — and your body knew he was in position — everything stopped. He stopped.
John looked down at you and became… different. The flirty bloke from the patio was back, and he smiled at you. You smiled back, out of breath and already drunk with hunger, but that was all he needed. He kissed you deeply, making you taste your own musk, and as his soft lips slid over yours, you felt the pressure of his huge cock at your hole, pressing through your folds to reach your hot, soaked center.
You gasped through his kiss, both of you moaning in the same timbre as you felt his heavy dick fit into you for the first time, a sparkling desire swirling within you as every delicious inch of him buried itself in you. He began to thrust himself up into your aching slit, fucking you on half of his length, and then using your own sticky fluid to slip himself the rest of the way in.
“Bloody hell, this fuckin’ pussy… fuck me,” he groaned, wrenching his eyes shut from the pleasure.
“Holy shit,” you breathed.
“Yeah?” He asked, seeking your praise.
“You’re fucking huge,” you didn’t mean to sound so concerned, but there was a part of you that was.
He sat back on his heels, taking some of the pressure away, staring down at your body lecherously, savoring your tits and fondling them in his hands,
“Alright, love?”
“You feel so good,” you insisted, wrapping your hands around his arms as he enjoyed your body.
“Tell me again,” he said, grunting again as he fucked his cock deeper inside of you, reaching a new end before dragging himself all the way back out just so he could start the journey again. He upped his tempo, pounding into you with his weight, the loud smack of his body against yours beating into you like a drum.
“Tell. Me. Again,” he growled his warning, snarling down at you, pinching your nipple to punish you for your silence.
You were gasping for breath. He was so deep now, you could feel the pressure of it in your belly. Between sharp intakes of air, you hissed,
“You… feel.. so… fucking… good…”
“That’s my girl,” he bent over you again and that familiar pressure returned. His cock was too big, and yet you took it anyway. Your body was panic and pleasure all at the same time, and he had you pinned down for the ride of your life.
You weren’t sure how many hours passed that night. He seemed to have the stamina of a much younger man, and every time you dozed off, you’d wake up again to fingers or tongue or cock playing inside of your folds, coaxing you to open yourself up to him. You were happy to oblige, but you were properly fuck drunk. If someone asked you for the alphabet, you weren’t positive you trusted your answer. But, when John Price asked you to open your mouth or your legs for him, you were the top scholar.
A golden, creamy dawn was rising up over the docks as you stared out the window. John’s hand was rubbing your bare back in long, relaxing strokes, and he was leaving soft, lazy kisses down your spine. You knew you were a mess. Your hair was tangled; you’d thrown it up into a messy bun on the second runthrough, done with trying to pretend to be a pristine hot girl. Your body was covered in his marks. Bruises from his teeth and red welts from a delightful slap on the ass or two were painted across you like little tattoos to commemorate your coupling.
“You alright, love?” He checked in on you.
He’d been checking in all night. For all his ruthlessness, he never crossed a line, and he never forgot to make sure you were safe. Sometime in the wee hours, he’d even made you drink a bottle of water and eat some fruit to hydrate, teasing you with grapes like some sort of earthly Baccus.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “Looks like it’s time for me to get out of your hair. Not sure I should be seen by the public in my current state.”
“You have work, or…” John looked confused.
You thought about lying to him for a moment. It would hurt so much less for you to just break it off now in the soft dawn glow rather than a painful goodbye over cold breakfast. But, you didn’t.
“No, just… don’t wanna fool myself into thinking this was something that it wasn’t.”
Your truth hung there in the air for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to reply, you heard the elevator ding.
You turned to look at it, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled you off the bed and forced you to the floor. It was so fast that you didn’t even realize what he’d done until your nose was in the carpet. Then, you heard a sharp, snapping pop of something hitting the bed.
You watched in horror as John’s hand reached under the mattress and pulled out a small pistol. He held it like a professional, calm and trained, and shot twice. Then, it was quiet again.
He helped you to your feet, and he was telling you something, but your brain wasn’t registering his words. What had happened? Why were there bullet holes in the mattress? Who had he shot?
Then, you saw it. A man’s body was laying across the door of the elevator. Wanting to descend, the elevator’s alarm wailed, beeping and beeping.
John grabbed your jaw and made you listen to him,
“We have to go. Now. Get your clothes on. Now. Now.”
“Okay…” You couldn’t move. It was so hard to even lift your arms. They felt like solid lead. You just wanted to sink back to the floor. Maybe if you could just…
“Hey! Now!”
He shoved your clothes into your hands and you started to put them on, doing your best not to look at the elevator. John was packing a black bag, half-dressed himself, and checking the windows over and over, looking for something in the streets below.
“There’s no time, c’mon, love.”
You felt his hand cover yours as he led you to the elevator. You watched him ruthlessly kick the body away from the doors and push you inside. Once you were in, the doors closed and you rode in silence with him. You could only hear your heart in your ears.
“...to my car. Stay close to me.”
“Okay…” It was all you could say. No other words even dared to come to mind.
“Hey,” he held your face in his as the floor numbers dropped to the teens, “You’re alright. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Okay.”
The doors opened, and you found it extremely weird that the lobby was empty. There were no workers, no guests, not even a custodian. It was just a big, silent cavern in what was usually a lively casino.
He was leading you out to the parking garage, and just as you stepped into the concrete enclave, you heard the screech of tires round the corner. John stood in front of you and gripped the gun in his hand, but he didn’t move away.
The car stopped in front of you, and you braced yourself, hiding behind your lover as much as you could.
“Get in, boss! They’re right bloody behind us. Soap, shove over,” a man’s voice came from the car. He was in the driver’s seat, and he was wearing a ballcap with the Union Jack emblazoned on the top. In his passenger seat was a man in a black balaclava, and in the back was a bright-eyed man with a mohawk who you guessed had to be Soap.
“C’mon, love,” John shoved you inside just as a black SUV rounded the same corner, the engine roaring when it saw Price’s car.
Gunshots rang out, and you knew some of them had hit the car. You worried for John, but he stood straight up, aiming carefully for the driver, and fired his gun. As if you were in some sort of action movie, the SUV careened off-course and slammed into several parked cars. Men began to pour from it, armed to the teeth.
John jumped in beside you and made you kneel in the floorboards, holding his body over yours protectively.
“How’d they find out? Gaz!” John yelled at the driver, shouting his name when he saw another SUV approaching from the side.
Gaz swerved, narrowly missing being rammed, and sped off down the highway, trying to run from his pursuers.
“No idea, mate, but they think it was us who tore up the warf. Banno’s man must’ve turned snitch. Only explanation.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” the masked man sighed, rolling down his window to fire shots at the SUV chasing you down.
“Who’s the bonnie hen, boss?” Soap peered down at you before turning his attention back on the car chase.
“Uh… she’s…” John tried to explain, but you realized that you never even told him your real name, “I dunno.”
“You dinnae ken?” Soap’s brows knitted together.
“Soap! Shut up and shoot, mate,” Gaz turned his attention back on the fight.
“Well,” the masked man grumbled loudly, “She’s stuck with us all the way to Hadrian’s Wall. Heading to Katie’s house. No place else is safe.”
“Aye, good call,” John agreed.
Finally, after leaving the city, your pursuers turned back around and left you to your escape. John helped you back into the seat and checked you for injuries.
“John… I’m…” Your voice shook with fear, and you felt all of that stress tumbling down into your chest, turning into shock and tears.
“Shh, it’s alright, love. I’ve gotcha. I’m… I’m sorry. Should’ve known better.”
“Better?” You whispered as he held you to his chest.
“Aye. Thought I could be a normal man for a night. Hit on the hot bird at the bar, go to a fuckin’ party. But, nothing’s normal right now. I’ve put you in this mess, and I’m sorry.”
You didn’t have a reply, not one that made any sense, and as he held you, you watched the English countryside come into view. Rolling green hills still wet with their dew made everything that had just happened to you seem so far away, but you could smell the gunpowder on his hands as he pet your cheek, and you knew that nothing could be further from the truth.
#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#john price#cod#captain price#captain price x you#call of duty#captain price x reader#captain price smut#john price smut#captain johnathan price#john price x you#john price x reader#price x reader#captain price x female reader#captain john price x female reader#john price x female reader#x female reader#alternate universe#wonderland by the californicationist
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Pub Nights
author's note: i imagine the boys are very unique when they're drunk and we all know they're not immune to getting just a bit more tipsy than they maybe should be, so here's what i cooked up!
cw: fluff, alcohol/drinking, intoxication, slight possessive behavior, a little sleazy behavior [not from any of the boys], cuddling, suggestive comments/acts
word count: 1700+
TF-141 x GN!Reader
Simon “Ghost” Riley [protective]
♡ You know how a lot people get less aware of their surroundings when they’re drunk? Not Ghost. He gets almost paranoid when he’s had a little too much to drink.
♡ Usually, this manifests in him always needing to have you in his line of sight, or better yet right next to him at all times. It’s hard to reason with him in this state; it’s possible, but it’s rare you’ll get him to just relax a bit before you end up needing to take him home.
Simon’s hand tightens on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. Someone across the bar had been eyeing you up for the past few minutes, something that you hadn’t noticed but he has. You look at him, confused. “What’s wrong, hun?” You tilt your head. He just grumbles and averts his gaze back down to the nearly empty glass of bourbon in his hand. You frown and wrap your hand gently around his wrist. “Simon?” You prompt again.
He sighs and turns to you, meeting your concerned eyes. “It’s nothing, love.” You start to believe him before his eyes snap up again looking past you to the person of interest again. He had started to move, approaching the two of you. A bold move, considering the fact that you had a 6’4” behemoth of a man playing guard dog by your side.
“Hey, sweetheart. You going home alone tonight?” The other man asks. Your eyes narrow and you scoot just a bit closer to Simon. “No, I’m with him actually.” The breath is pushed out of you when Simon’s arm wraps around your midsection and squeezes you tightly to his side. If this other guy was close enough, he’d be able to hear him growling next to you. “Piss off, ya fuckin’ wanker.” He hisses at the guy. At the sound of Simon’s voice, he immediately backed off, hands up and muttering a quick ‘sorry,’ before walking away.
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Simon’s arm loosens just a little. “Thank you, Si.” You kiss him on his clothed cheek, attempting to stop him glaring daggers at the retreating man. “He’s not coming back, baby. It’s okay.” You smile when he lets out a quick huff and fully relaxes his hold on you. “Let’s go home, yeah?” He murmurs, satisfied when you nod and start gathering your things.
John “Soap” Mactavish [sensual]
♡ Soap is going to be all over you, whether you’re drinking at home or not. Wandering eyes, grabby hands, an abundance of kisses—he wants to show you just how much he loves you in all the best ways.
♡ With a stocky Scotsman attached at the hip, it’s common that you’ll end up being assaulted by kisses and trapped in his arms for the rest of the night until he finally falls asleep for the night [a lot of the time, he’s falling asleep on the couch and you have to either drag him or urge him to his feet to get him in bed.]
It was a miracle that you and Johnny managed to get home tonight. You ended up having to get Price to drive the both of you home; you’d have to apologize for making out in the back of his car like a couple of horny teenagers, but that could wait until the morning. For now, you were just worried about not stumbling too much on the short walk down the hall that you had to make to get to your apartment door.
Somehow, you made it all the way inside and to your nice comfy bed. Yes, the bedsprings were a little worn out and yes, the mattress was getting a little lumpy, but that was irrelevant right now. It was hard to focus on anything else other than your boyfriend halfway laying on top of you with his lips connected to the skin on your neck and shoulders, painting you with lovebites and hickeys that you weren’t sure you’d be able to hide in the morning.
“I’m gonna have you up ‘til morning, bonnie, I swear—” He cuts himself off by biting down on you again, his hands slipping under your clothes to take big handfuls of all the plumpest parts of your body. “Can’t wait to hear you moanin’ tonight, y’sound so good…” He smiles against your skin when you whimper quietly at his words. It morphs into a giggle and you playfully try to pull away from him. “I don’t wanna get a noise complaint, Johnny!”
He just takes the opportunity to start stripping you, your shirt coming first so he could bury his face in your chest and start kissing you up and down there too. “Don’t care who hears us, they’ll have to bring it up with me anyway.” His words are muffled by your chest, the vibrations of his voice tickling you and making you giggle again.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [mushy]
♡ Gaz gets very loose-lipped when he’s drunk. He’ll go on and on about how wonderful you are, and how much you’ve changed his life for the better, and that you’ve made him the happiest man alive.
♡ He gets very embarrassed about it the first few times you see him like that, but eventually you’re able to convince him that it’s just adorable and he’s got no reason to worry. In fact, it was the way he ended up confessing to you, so as much as it can get overbearing, this little quirk would always have a soft spot in your heart.
“Wait. What did you just say?” You turn to Kyle with an incredulous look on your face. There’s no way in hell you heard that right. Did you? Kyle just smiles at you and bumps shoulders with you. “I said that you made my life better more than anyone else has,” he rests his head on yours, “oh! And, that I love you. So, so much.”
Well, that was unexpected. You go silent for a few moments as Kyle sways a bit. He’s definitely had a little too much to drink. You support him with an arm around his shoulders and help get him to his feet, struggling under his weight at your side. “Let’s get you home, okay? You need rest.” He nods in response and lets you take him out to his car. Once you get him buckled into the passenger’s seat, you start the trip back to his flat, all the while he’s trying to hold your hand. Eventually you give in, a small smile on your face.
Once you’re back at his place, you’re faced with the task of getting him to his room to get him ready for bed, at least the best you could. “Thank you for taking me home, love.” He’s practically dead weight on you as you lug him to his room and sit him on his head. He immediately lays back, letting you pat his forehead. “Of course, Kyle. No need to thank me.” You smile. “Can you manage getting undressed by yourself?” He nods and you leave to get him some hangover remedies prepared.
You ended up asleep on Kyle’s couch with him—after he followed you there from his bedroom— with his arm around your midsection and him mumbling confessions of his affections all the way up until you fell asleep. You never realized how he felt about you; apparently, he hid it very well. The funny thing is, you felt exactly the same about him. You did have to wonder though: would he really still feel the same tomorrow? Hopefully he would, or your current position would be very odd.
John Price [sleepy]
♡ When Price breaches the barrier between tipsy and drunk, he quite honestly is ready to go home and hold you tight before getting a good night’s rest.
♡ The moment you get home you’re being dragged to bed, whether you like it or not, even if you want to go along with your usual nighttime routine. Hell, you’d be lucky to even get fully undressed before he’s pulling you under the covers.
You put one of your hands over John’s where they were resting on your stomach, kneading the plush there. He had been hovering behind you the entire time you were getting ready for bed. He was making it increasingly difficult to get anything done, especially getting undressed and into your sleepwear. With his arms practically locked around you, wiggling out of your clubbing outfit was near impossible.
“John, let go for a second—” You squeak when you get hoisted off the ground; the very second you finish drying your face after washing it, he was carrying you to bed and plopping you both down, his face buried in your shoulder. “You’re ready for bed already, darling.” He grumbles deep in his chest. You practically hear the pout on his face as he speaks. “I’m not even undressed yet—” You sigh deeply. “Fine, fine, I’m staying. Can I at least get some water first, though?” No response.
“John, we should really get some water…” You mumble into John’s chest, your voice muffled by his shirt. He just pulls you closer, his hand playing at the nape of your neck and the small of your back. You huff, trying to push yourself away from him. You look up at him with a frown on your face “John, c’mon, let go…” You whine. But before you could even try to escape his hold again, he was dead asleep.
You groan quietly and try to slip your clothes off despite his ironclad grip only managing to make it out of your shoes and the clothes covering your lower half. You had to wait for another ten minutes before his grip finally loosened enough for you to get up and get fully undressed and into your night clothes, as well as getting a glass of water to chug down.
Once you make it back to the bedroom, you realize you must have woken him up because he’s sitting against the headboard, waiting for you. When you walk in, he’s already trying to get up to grab you again, so you hurry to get in bed so as to not make him leave the bed. You’re almost immediately being crushed again and he’s falling asleep again, an adoring smile coming to your face as you rub his back up and down to soothe him back to sleep.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john price x reader#tf 141 x reader#ghost mw2#ghost mw3#soap mw2#soap mw3#gaz mw2#gaz mw3#price mw2#price mw3#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#john soap mactavish x gn!reader#kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader#john price x gn!reader#mwii#mwiii#mw2#mw3#simon riley headcanon#john mactavish headcanons#kyle garrick headcanon#john price headcanons#tf 141 headcanons
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She Likes a Boy, and I’m not a Boy.
Queen Maeve x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your girlfriend joins the new superhero team, The Seven, and breaks up with you. This is loosely based on the unreleased song by Nxdia on TikTok. Literally just the “she likes a boy, I’m not a boy” part because a lot of sapphic people can relate to that line.
Margaret knew you were proud of her when she joined The Seven. You were proud of her for anything she did as “Queen Maeve,” but not in the same way her dad would be proud. You weren’t proud of her because it would bring you money or fame; you were proud of her because she was doing good in the world. You didn’t mind keeping your relationship quiet either. You understood that it could lead to more problems for you and definitely more problems for Queen Maeve if the masses found out that her secret identity was dating a woman, even when she was still a small-time hero.
She was fine keeping you a secret when she first joined The Seven, even once she and Homelander started their showmance. Margaret still would sneak around to see you. She would reassure you that it’s just for the cameras and that this was for the best for you two. That’s what Maeve thought, until Homelander made a move on her away from the cameras. She struggled to find the words to tell him no because she had been warned of the damage he could do when he got mad.
Homelander frowned, "No? Why not? You’re single, I’m single. We are both superheroes with super strength, so we don’t have to worry about hurting each other," he argued. Maeve noticed the way his eyes flickered with a strange emotion when he brought up hurting each other. Maeve wondered who exactly he had hurt in the past to warrant that reaction. The thought quickly left her head; she didn’t care about that right now.
"I’m just not looking for a relationship. I like my privacy," Maeve countered. Homelander scoffed as if the notion of privacy was ridiculous.
"Come on, the minute you became Queen Maeve, you lost your right to privacy. You know that as well as I do. I mean, come on, my secret identity, 'John,' only fooled people for a week. It’s going to be no time before they see 'Margaret' for who she really is," Homelander made it seem as if she had no choice.
Maeve finally agreed to "date" him, but she still wanted to keep seeing you, trying her best to keep you away from Homelander. She hated herself for having to do this, but she didn’t want to lose you. That is until she saw the damage Homelander could do if he was jealous enough. At a Vought party, a bartender had been flirting with Maeve. She knew the guy was trying to get tips, but she didn’t know Homelander was able to hear the man flirting, and Maeve laughed at a few of his cheesy jokes because they reminded her of something you would say. The day after, Homelander was being far clingier, and then the day after that, the bartender was found dead in his apartment, completely disemboweled. Homelander told her he did it. He said he was jealous because she’s never laughed with him in the same way she laughed with that bartender.
"I know you wouldn’t try to leave me, but the thought of you laughing with that bartender pissed me off," Homelander’s words felt like a threat. Maeve doesn’t sleep that night. She lays awake knowing that she has to break up with you or watch you be strung up by your intestines.
A week passes. Queen Maeve doesn’t contact you in any way. She can’t, not with Homelander being so clingy. Finally, she is able to slip away while he goes somewhere to help Black Noir. She arrives at your apartment.
Maeve knocks.
Before all this, she would just walk in and make herself at home. You open the door. "Margaret? I’ve been worried sick! You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls! I haven’t seen you in over a week," you scold her.
"We need to talk," she says with a plain face and a monotone voice. Maeve feels lucky she has had to master acting during her time as a hero. You let her in and shut the door. She takes a small survey of your space; she knows she won’t be in it again. Maeve wants to remember what she can.
"Is something wrong?" You ask; there’s a hint of sadness in your voice. You know what’s coming. Maeve turns around with a disgusted grimace painted on her face.
"I’ve been cheating on you," is all she says. It’s painful to admit; she wishes she could tell you she didn’t have a choice and that she’s doing this to keep you safe, but she doubles down. "With Homelander. Since our showmance started."
"Why, Maeve?" You ask, and Maeve’s acting fails her for a moment; she frowns. You always called her Margaret before and not Maeve. She responds with the first thing that comes to mind. "He’s a man. You’re not. You didn’t think I would actually stay with a woman? Our relationship wasn’t even real. We never went on public dates. You were never my long-term plan. Forget this relationship ever happened. You’re nothing to me." Maeve leaves without another word. She slams the door. She flinches, knowing you hate that.
Maeve goes home to drink. Homelander repeatedly asks her what’s wrong, but she just responds with "nothing, just having a drink." Eventually, he goes to his own room, leaving Maeve alone in her Vought-provided room. Maeve wants to cry, but she knows he is listening to her, so she continues drowning her sorrows.
Years pass. Queen Maeve is inescapable for you. She’s everywhere. You finally move on from your relationship with Margaret, choosing to tell people that your ex had died. After all, Margaret was dead; she was just replaced by Queen Maeve.
You feel a bittersweet feeling when you see Homelander and Maeve broke up because he was sleeping around. You felt a little bad for her. Getting cheated on sucked. You moved through your life unbothered. That is until she was outed by Homelander as a "lesbian," and then he name-dropped you as her girlfriend. For a moment, Maeve was visibly shocked, but her face quickly reverted to a painfully fake smile. He said your first and last name. You realized that you had also been outed to anyone in your life that would put two and two together.
The next couple of days your phone rang and rang and rang. Family members calling you. Friends calling you. Co-workers. Random numbers. They all wanted the same thing. The hot gossip on your relationship with Maeve. You got a few nasty emails and direct messages on social media from anonymous accounts that were telling you that you and Queen Maeve would rot in hell for your sins, and a few threats from people that were convinced you corrupted Maeve. You had to take some personal time from work. Maeve eventually showed up at your apartment.
"We need to talk." The last time she said those words to you, she practically tore your heart out of your chest. This time she didn’t wait for you to let her in; she just pushed past you. Just like the last time, she takes in your apartment. You had gotten quite a few upgrades for the apartment.
"Are you here because of the talk show from the other day?" You ask; if you weren’t irritated by the situation, your voice would likely sound sad. "Yes," is all Maeve says. So she’s not really here for you. She’s not here to apologize.
"Well, you can feel free to leave; I’m not a boy, remember?" The words are bitter when they fall from your mouth. You’re not thinking when you say it. "I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I wanted to be with you. I did, but if I stayed, I would have put you in danger."
Of course, she’s deflecting. "So you cheated for my own good? That sounds so stupid," you scoff.
Maeve becomes very serious. "Being a hero isn’t what you think. It’s not about actually helping people. It’s about being a product that can be sold and palatable for the masses." After she says this, you take a seat and wait for her to continue. "Most of the heroes are narcissistic assholes that have no business having powers. They’re dangerous, and Homelander is the most dangerous."
"Homelander? Seriously? He’s like Jesus or something?" It’s hard to believe the top hero is a monster.
"Please, believe me," she begs. Maeve begins to explain what happened with the bartender right before she broke up with you. Maeve explains everything that she can without possibly endangering you.
"Maeve, I had no idea," you tell her. "I know what I said and did all those years ago was unforgivable, but I didn’t want to risk you trying to come and find me again," she says, sitting next to you.
Your curiosity gets the better of you, "How did he find out about us?" Maeve’s brow furrows. "I’m not sure. Maybe Vought knew and had a file on you or something, and he found it, but he knows. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but getting you in the public eye is going to be the best way to keep you safe. If the public loves you, it will look suspicious if you suddenly disappear or die. He won’t touch you right now, but this is a short-term solution." You don’t respond.
"Vought’s marketing team wants to meet you tomorrow. A car will come pick you up at 3:00 tomorrow," Maeve leaves.
#the boys#queen maeve#queen maeve x reader#fem!reader#fem x fem#angst#the boys fanfic#the boys x reader#maeve#maeve x reader#Margaret Shaw x reader#Margaret Shaw#Margaret#Margaret x reader#fanfic#fanfiction
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Chapter 5
Surprise visitor
AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 4.5k Words
Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Simon was sitting on the back porch, half laid with the flooring and the skeleton of the built-in seating when he heard the car pull up. It wasn’t unusual to hear cars on the street as of late. The true tourist season was just around the corner, but closer living locals were already coming in on the nicer days to get their properties set for the season. Or to drop their boats in the water and get them in their slips before the more coveted marinas were fully sold out.
But it was odd to hear the crunch of gravel in Celeste’s driveway as the vehicle came to a rolling stop and the car sat there idling. It wasn’t a delivery, too small of a car for that, and it definitely wasn’t Celeste either. He had seen her leave a few hours before for work, and it wasn’t nearly enough time for her shift to be done.
Curiosity peaked, Simon pushed up from the spot where he had been reading, stepping carefully over the exposed support beams to peer at the trees that split the property border. There he spotted a small SUV, brand new and shiny in the sun, and a woman sitting in the driver’s seat texting on her phone. He stayed where he was to watch what she was up to. Perhaps she was lost and had wandered to the wrong address for her rental. Or she was attempting to sell something. If that was the case, he would be promptly going inside and ignoring the knock on the door until she went away.
But then the woman climbed out of the car, tucking her phone away, and went to the trunk to dig out a suitcase—two suitcases, a large backpack, and a tote bag that was threatening to bust with how overstuffed it was. Clearly, she had the wrong address for the rental. Still, Simon watched quietly as she dragged her things over the gravel to the backdoor instead of the front. Interesting.
Digging out his own phone, he sent a quick text to Johnny asking him to swing by the café to see if Celeste was still working. He had gone into town with Kyle, taking pity on the guy who was moping around the house. Simon looked pointedly the other way when Kyle climbed on the back of Johnny’s bike and slipped his good arm around his waist. Not for jealousy of the closeness, Simon had watched the two of them together much closer than that, but because he knew it was reckless.
If Johnny slipped, if there was a wobble, the chance of injury to both of them was high. But Simon also knew Kyle was so close to snapping at being handled like a child he kept his mouth shut. Johnny was an excellent driver, and it was just to town. He had to trust him. But John would definitely not hear anything about this trip.
We’ll swing by there next. Everything good? Fine. Just has a visitor at her place. Don’t know who it is. Don’t want her coming home if it’s unwelcomed. Softie Piss off
The woman had ditched her bags by the rickety patio table set, and Simon had to step off the deck and walk toward the lake a bit to get a better look at what she was doing. She was picking up rocks in the landscaping by the door and flipping them over before sighing and picking up another. She was looking for a key Simon quickly realized. After a few more tries, she found what she was looking for, pulled the small tab on the fake rock back, and tilted it over to find no key inside.
When she dropped the plastic rock back into the dirt, she stood up, wiped her hands on her pants, and looked around as if to see if anyone saw her. Simon was careful to stay shrouded in the shade of the trees, and she didn’t spot him as she stepped into the garden and moved to push on a window that didn’t budge. Whoever this person was, she was determined to get inside the place, and Simon was about to find out why.
Simon kept his footsteps light and quiet, which was a feat that he was unusually skilled at despite his size. He sidestepped all the fallen branches under the trees and shuffled through the dead leaves that no one had cleaned up after last season before going around the back of Celeste’s garage. The woman had no idea he was even there as she shoved herself between a bush and the house and tried pressing on another window. Well, she may not have known, but the little orange cat locked in on him and stared unabashedly before pawing at the glass where the woman huffed up at him.
“Goddamn it, Celeste, since when did you become the epitome of house safety?” The woman complained as she twisted and attempted to get out of the bush. Her hair was tangled up in the branches and Simon stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest as he saw her flail about trying to get out. He was a few feet away from the backstep watching her, and when she finally saw him and shrieked, he didn’t flinch.
“Who the fuck,” the woman startled as she nearly fell over, crushing the bush under her as she lost her footing.
Simon didn’t bother to help her as he watched her, though his lips quirked up under his mask as he watched an embarrassed expression break over her face. She clearly had not been anticipating an audience, and a man that was nearly twice her size had scared the shit out of her. Perhaps that would teach her to not break into people’s houses.
“Who are you?” The woman asked once she got herself free and stumbled back onto the back steps so she felt like she had the higher ground. She was still shorter than him, even at this angle, but he had to give it to her that despite the startle and huge eyes, she was standing her ground. Most would have run. “And why are you on this property?” She added on before wiping away a leaf that was brushing the side of her face, ruining some of her bravado.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Simon answered as he sized her up. “Since you are the one breaking and entering into someone’s house,” he replied, “or attempting to anyway. Doesn’t seem to be working out that well.”
“I’m a friend,” the woman answered after a second, narrowing her eyes at him. “She must have forgotten her own keys at some point because the spare she keeps out here is missing,” she explained, pointing to the fake rock. “So again. Who are you?”
“Her neighbor,” Simon said simply. “Saw you rummaging around and thought I’d see what you were up to. The bush seemed to keep you occupied enough though. Clearly, she doesn’t need an alarm system if these are the type of burglars around here.”
“I’m not a burglar. Would a robber know where someone kept their spare key,” she hesitated, clearly realizing that, yes, someone breaking in would potentially know where a key was. She changed tactics quickly. “You’re lucky I didn’t attack you,” the woman snapped as she smoothed her hair a bit. “How do you know I don’t have a knife or something?”
“I’d say you’re the lucky one in that situation,” Simon replied flatly. This short woman would hardly be a challenge, and he knew she was all bluster because there wasn’t anything remotely intimidating about her. Physically anyway.
When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he pulled it out to take a look and saw a message from Johnny stating Celeste was still at the café. Then, another question about sweets that Simon ignored as he shoved the phone away again. “If you’re a friend, why are you here locked out when she’s at work? You’d think she would have left the door unlocked for you or the key.” He looked at the fake rock and made a mental note to promptly get rid of that. There were better ways to hide keys and secure a house.
“She didn’t know I was coming; I wanted to surprise her…I live pretty far away,” the woman answered, pointing toward all the luggage. “I wanted to try to get in, clean up, and surprise her when she got home. But it looks like I’ll be sitting out here until she gets off shift in,” she paused and looked at her watch with a huff, “four hours.”
“Give me proof you know her, and I’ll let you in,” Simon answered as he uncrossed his arms to not seem as intimidating. Though the woman hardly seemed like she would fall for intimidation tactics. After the initial startle, she didn’t back down from Simon’s stare, nor did she fumble in her words or actions. She was willing to stand toe to toe with him, a rarity.
“Proof? How about you give me some proof,” the woman snapped. “How do I know you’re not some creepy stalker or something?”
“I’m Simon,” Simon said after a second, “I live next door with Johnny, Kyle, and John. Moved in a few weeks back. I’m sure Celeste has mentioned something to you if you are that close of friends. John and Johnny managed to piss her off already.”
“Mmm,” the woman muttered under her breath as she narrowed her eyes. “Fine, yes, she has. Hasn’t said much about you aside from the fact you wear a skull mask.” She looked pointedly at the mask that was across his as if to indicate ‘exactly that’. She held her ground for a moment, testing him before sighing and digging out her phone. “What proof do you want?”
“Give me her number. I’ll see if it matches,” Simon bluffed. Celeste had never given any of them her number. As she rattled it off without having to even look at her phone, Simon typed it in his and hit save before looking up at her. “Anything else?”
“Fucks sake, this the inquisition?” She asked before huffing and tapping into an app and holding up her phone to show him. It was pictures of the two of them together. She swiped through them quickly to show how many she had before raising an eyebrow as if to ask if she passed the test.
“Fine,” Simon relented before gesturing for her to step aside. If this woman was a problem it wouldn’t be that hard to dispatch her. And he was more than curious to see exactly what Celeste got up to inside of her house. She barely spent any time in it, so he had a faint idea of what it was.
“You have a key?” The woman asked as Simon dug out his wallet and flipped it open before pulling out a card.
“Not exactly,” Simon said as he grabbed the small brass doorhandle and yanked the door up and to the side before shoving the card in the gap. It took two more shoves and a bit of wriggling before the latch popped and the door opened. “No deadbolt on the door,” he offered as the door swung open, and the woman stared at him slack-jawed.
“Solidifies you are a creepy stalker,” the woman answered giving him an up and down glance before moving to shove him aside. “I’ll be getting her a deadbolt, chain, perhaps a baseball bat, and alarm system before I leave,” she rattled off, looking over her shoulder at him.
“I won’t tell you the ten different ways I could get around those without breaking a sweat then. Let you sleep better at night.” He smirked behind the mask as she glared at him, her mouth falling open a little bit at his brashness. “Military,” Simon replied in explanation as he held out the card between two fingers for her to take. It was his military ID, conveniently missing his picture. “You learn a few things,” he smirked as she snatched up the card and read it over before shoving it back at him.
“Sure. Well thanks for letting me in, you can go now,” she said dismissively as she attempted to block the door.
“Still not sure you aren’t up to something,” Simon answered as he followed her into the kitchen, crowding her space. “What’s your name?” As if he’d know if that was a friend of Celeste’s or not, he had barely spoken to the woman.
“Listen. I’ve just gotten off a four-hour flight, one wrong train stop, a two hour drive and fought with a car rental place for that horrendous thing out front. If I was coming all the way out here to cause issues, I clearly am a shitty criminal with low ambitions.” When Simon raised his eyebrow at her for the unanswered question, she rolled her eyes. “Alice. I’ve known Celeste since we were kids. We have cheesy matching tattoos, I was in her wedding, and if you look hard enough I’m sure you can find our old yearbooks somewhere when we had braces and pigtails. We done?”
“Alice,” Simon answered with a nod as he leaned against the kitchen counter as Samson winded around his legs. The little thing had taken to hounding Simon when he was outside for scraps, and when no one was looking, he had slipped him bits of chicken and steak. Apparently he now thought Simon walked around with food in his pockets.
“Simon,” Alice shot back pointedly. “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” She asked as she looked down at Samson, who was brushing up against the hulking man's black jeans. When he didn’t answer, she huffed and twisted to continue her inspection. “This place is ten times worse than I expected, I’ve got my work cut out for me. Here I was hoping I could soak in the gigantic garden tub for a bit.”
Simon glanced around the kitchen for the fourth time, eyes lingering on the doorway to the living room beyond before going back to Alice. It wasn’t in bad shape. Dated. Perhaps a bit dusty atop the fridge and cabinets where Celeste wouldn’t be able to see or get to without a stepstool, but it wasn’t awful. Some plates in the sink, plants that needed watering but otherwise it seemed to be in relatively good shape. Stark but Simon wasn’t one for decorations either.
“You seeing something I’m not?” Simon asked as Alice pulled open the fridge, peered in then scoffed. It was barren inside as well.
“She’s lived here for a few months now,” Alice answered as she shut the fridge, moved to the kitchen pantry, and pulled open the door. “And it looks just as empty as when she sent me pictures from the day she moved in.”
“If that’s a sign of an issue, then I’d hate for you to see our home,” Simon replied as she started inspecting boxes of food and putting them on the kitchen table.
“She’s never been one to live like this. I bet all her things are still in boxes because she,” Alice paused with a sigh. “You know what? Not your business. So,” she stated as she opened the trash with her foot to throw away expired food. “Either you can go back to whatever it was you were doing, or give me hand hauling in my luggage and tell me where the nearest grocery is.”
----------------------------
Tomorrow. Tomorrow and the day Celeste had been dreading would be upon her.
It was on constant repeat in her mind. One more day and it will have been a year since he had left. A full year without him. She was a full year older while he was perpetually frozen at thirty-seven. She’d keep aging. Keep moving on, keep living, and eventually surpass his age while he’d still be that same man. The one that had bemoaned the stray white hairs that had started cropping up in his beard and questioned if his hairline had receded. Fuck. She’d never see him grey. Never see that bald spot she promised to rub for good luck as she teased him. And he’d never see the small streaks of grey that had started in her own hair.
Fisting her shaking hands to keep them under control, Celeste stared at her reflection in the bakery case to get herself together. She couldn’t start crying behind the counter in front of all these people; customers, her boss, and coworkers. She couldn’t take the stares but most of all she couldn’t take the questions. Some of them had figured out who she was, of course; they knew her husband’s family from having grown up here, but most treated her like a mystery, and she wanted to keep it that way. It hurt to see her old friends and family without him at her side and to see their pity. But it hurt even more to try and explain it to strangers and hear the condolences that were a year too late. A year. Fuck, no, she needed to get out of that spiral.
“What else do you need help with, Carl?” Celeste asked as the man appeared from where he had gone for yet another smoke break.
“Ah,” the older man replied as he glanced around the area. “Just refill the napkins and the coffee stand? It’ll just be me here tomorrow with you off,” he stated, his voice sounding a bit put out.
“Mmm, it’s mostly me here even when you are here,” Celeste muttered to herself, though she nodded and headed out to the floor to start checking the napkin holders on all the tables.
She worked on refilling everything, from the napkins to the sugar packets, the straws, cup lids, and any other small thing she could think of. It would keep her busy for the last bit of her shift and be one less thing for her to do when she got back to work. The rest of her coworkers did pretty much the bare minimum, only refilling when things were empty, and that would end up with her having to do it all anyway.
The busy work helped keep her mind occupied, when she was idle that was when the thoughts would creep in. That fact alone had almost made her not take the next few days off but after a very long phone call, where Alice had threatened to call out for her, Celeste had put in for it. She wasn’t sure what she would do all day though. Perhaps just try to sleep through them, stare at the water for hours, and avoid every single phone call and text. She knew his parents were going to the gravesite but that wasn’t something she had been ready for. It was going to be hard enough to face them for dinner.
As she fought to shove a pack of napkins into a container, the rumble of a bike caught her and half the café's attention as it pulled into the parking lot.
Bikes in town were normal in the warm months, but at the moment, they weren’t. The only ones Celeste knew of were her neighbors and sure enough it was them, though they had only brought one bike and were riding together. They lingered on the bike talking, and Celeste peered up a few times from her work to find both of them with their visors up, staring at her. Surely not. She was far from the window and not worth the attention, but as she made eye contact, one waved.
“Know them?” A customer asked as she walked over causing Celeste to jump a bit as she returned the wave halfheartedly.
“Oh, I mean…I guess? Not really well, though; they’re my neighbors,” she confessed with a small shrug. “We see each other around.”
“They moved into that broken down place?” The woman asked a bit shocked. Of course the woman knew where she lived, which wasn’t weird at all. “Flippers I bet, looking to make quick money.”
“Perhaps,” Celeste said as she watched the one with the injured arm, Kyle, as she came to learn against her attempts not to learn about any of them, climbed off the back of the bike first. “They travel a lot for work, could be their vacation spot.” Why did she know that? Perhaps because of the constant rotation of cars and the only person that seemed to stay no matter what was Kyle.
“As long as they are quiet,” the woman sniffed before handing Celeste her plates for her to take, ignoring that she was busy with other work. “Those bikes are horrendous.”
Celeste didn’t answer as she took the dishes to the kitchen and glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left. Surely she could ride them out hiding in the back. Take her time getting her things together, linger washing her hands, and make a show of double checking her time. She was too tired to get into anything else and was honestly afraid if she found something to do it would keep her past her shift. Then Carl would try to rope her in to cover yet another smoke break that could range from fifteen to thirty minutes.
Right at the four o’clock mark Celeste punched out and flitted right for the door. She avoided eye contact with anyone working and tugged her jacket tight around her shoulders, the spring air still a bit chilly. She knew she needed to stop at the store for food, her last bit of deli meat gone with dinner the night before, but the idea of going shopping was daunting. Maybe there was some cereal in the pantry she could eat and then shop tomorrow to get out of the house. If she even had the stomach to keep anything down.
While she started up her car she spotted Johnny and Kyle walking out of the small convenience store next to the café. They were chatting and she watched as Johnny snatched Kyle’s bag away to carry it before stuffing it in the bike bags and handing him his helmet. Despite neither of them was nearly as large as Simon, Celeste found herself fascinated at the fact they both fit on the motorcycle. Both were tall, Johnny stockier compared to Kyle’s more lithe form yet they made it work. Johnny slipped on first and Kyle behind him, adjusting a few times for his arm before he reached around to grab Johnny’s waist. It was an intimate enough position to sit like that, but as Johnny grabbed Kyle’s knee to tug him closer and didn’t let go, Celeste raised an eyebrow. Perhaps they were more than just joint investors in the house. Not that it mattered to her she told herself as she threw her car into drive to pull out of her spot.
She didn’t want to know anything about them, didn’t want to get friendly with them or allow them to know her. She vowed to keep her circle small after everything that happened. Death brought out the worst in people, and she truly learned who her friends were. The less people she had around her, the less heartbreak she’d have to deal with down the road. Yet as she waited at the light, she watched them pull up behind her in the rearview mirror, and when Johnny gave her a polite nod, she returned it with a half-smile.
You home yet?
Celeste jumped as her car read out her text message and she sighed before answering. Alice had been checking in constantly. Despite the long distance between them physically, she never let that stop her from reaching out. She called, texted, video chatted and any other form of communication she could figure out to keep Celeste engaged. As of late Celeste hadn’t really been keeping up her side of friendship, not initiating conversations and letting messages go unanswered for a day or two at a time. But Alice didn’t begrudge her and still continued to stay ever present. The one real friend she really had left.
On my way mom. I left work on time for once. Good. I’m starved.
“Shit,” Celeste muttered. She had forgotten they were supposed to have a video dinner date and movie night. Alice was going to chew her a new one for eating cereal out of the box. She was already on her for looking exhausted all the time and suspicious as to why.
The drive home was uneventful, though she kept glancing up as Johnny and Kyle followed behind. It was odd to have anyone around on the ride home, the cottage so far out of downtown. They kept a respectful distance, but she smirked a bit as she spotted Kyle pressed tight to Johnny’s back and let his other arm extend out in the wind. She noticed Johnny sped up a bit to toy with him and laughed a bit to herself as Kyle abruptly wrapped his arm back around Johnny and held tight.
She was so engaged in watching them, eyes darting between the road and the mirror, the SUV in her driveway startled her. Celeste had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting it and she rocked in her seat before glancing at her cottage. She didn’t recognize the car, running through the mental list of her former in-law's vehicles. Surely they wouldn’t surprise her with a visit, not like this. As she narrowed her eyes at the lights that were on inside her phone dinged again.
Dinner’s getting cold. Get in here.
And as Celeste pondered just what that meant she saw the front door open and her friend’s silhouette in the doorway. Alice was there. She had surprised her with a trip, a feat in itself because she was horrible at keeping any type of secret from Celeste. Her friend had dropped everything, made the trek out to the middle of nowhere, to make sure that she wasn’t alone. Knowing that Celeste would struggle through it in silence and wasn’t about to let her do that.
Alice had been at her side in less than twelve hours a year ago after the accident. She had been the only person who actually knew how to take care of her and had taken charge when Celeste was catatonic on the couch. Had curled her up in the guest bedroom and slept with her in the tiny rickety bed so she wouldn’t be alone because Celeste hadn’t slept on her own in almost fifteen years. And after a solid year of misery she was still there, fighting off the ghosts and trying to help Celeste find joy and life again.
#poly tf141#poly141#poly 141#polyamory#call of duty#cod#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfic#my fic#original female character#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish\#simon ghost riley#john price#captain john price#Lifeline
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hiiii
please write about Amanda Young x fem!reader :)
she gets very jealous and furry when someone flirts with us :)))))
jealous!amanda young x fem!reader
warnings: none… age gap kinda? obv amanda is in her 30s but reader is in her 20s so just take that how you will
wc: 1.6k
your situation with jigsaw and the apprentices was… different.
you weren’t an apprentice, per se, but you also weren’t completely a victim; you floated around somewhere in between. like a middle-man, almost. you were never directly involved with the crimes, though you were definitely knowledgeable of them. you’d been tested as well, but for some reason it seemed like your test wasn’t… as brutal.
you’d talked to amanda a few times, mainly when you were begging to be let go and she was busy laughing at you. some part of you kind of thought she went easy on you, but you couldn’t tell if that was true or if it was just you making up things to cope with what had happened.
ever since your test, you’d been staying with john and the apprentices— which you later learned was not normal for other jigsaw victims. you never found out why, but there was always a slight feeling in your brain that the lingering looks from his female apprentice had something to do with it.
either way, it was something you chose not to dwell on because you knew it would only lead to more questions and more disappointment.
it felt pointless to continue stewing over it, so for the next few minutes you continued on in your notebook, writing down different plans john or the apprentices had mentioned over time and looking over the new list of people and their offenses.
you were so busy reading a file on some new contraption that you didn’t even notice the shadowy figure suddenly hovering above you.
mark hoffman was perched on the side of your desk with one leg hanging off the edge. “what are you working on?”
amanda quietly scoffed at his presence from her makeshift bedroom, a bit in shock that you would even entertain the man. you, on the other hand, were just looking for a way to exit the conversation with him.
looking up at mark, you quickly realized he was way too close— you could smell his cologne, or lack thereof.
she tried not to keep looking at you, but amanda couldn’t help but stare. she smirked as she watched, noting how you subtly crinkled your nose when he leaned towards you.
amanda has never liked hoffman. hoffman, not mark— she’d never dare give him the pleasure of addressing him by his name. she never liked him, but she disliked him even more when he interacted with you. in the back of her mind, a small part of her thought he just continued to talk to you simply to piss her off. he’s not completely clueless; he knows how to push amanda’s buttons. he’d probably talk to you even if he didn’t like you just to fuel his vendetta against the small brunette.
she didn’t like it when he was around you.
“…oh, you know. just, traps and stuff, i guess…”
“you guess?” he laughed at that. “c’mon sweetheart, you gotta have more confidence than that.”
you sighed, setting down the pencil you’d been holding to look up at him. “do you need something, mark?”
“oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied. “you barely talk to any of us! i’m just trying to get to know you.”
you looked down at the hands you had eventually clasped and set against your desk. you then gave him a tight smile. “okay… what do you want to know?”
he grinned. “you got a boyfriend?”
you instinctively recoiled back, hoping the disgust you felt didn’t show on your face. if you asked amanda, she would’ve said it did— but she wasn’t even watching, of course not.
taking a moment to clear your throat, you met his gaze to respond. “no, i don’t.”
the brooding woman in her makeshift bedroom finally spoke up, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “but i’m sure she’d love to hear a proclamation of love from a man twice her age.”
he turned his head towards amanda, the force of his movements causing even his body to shuffle. “can’t you just mind your business?” he shot back.
you were planning on jumping in, eventually— but the decision of what to say was still playing around in your mind. to be fair, you were in a borderline cult of serial killers, so your sexual preferences really should be the least of their concerns.
“whatever you say, old man. im just pointing out the obvious, that’s all. i don’t think a woman your age would even go for you, honestly.” the corner of amanda’s lip turned into a grin when she saw mark’s hand twitch.
“you know what, smartass?” he said, slamming his palms on your desk as he stood up. “you wanna say that again? what the hell is your problem?”
amanda pushed herself off of the perch she called a bed. “you’re my problem, asshat. you think you’re so much better than me and everyone else just because you’re some high class detective who’s never failed a drug test in his life,” she spat out.
mark got closer to amanda, nearly backing her up to one of the desks close by. at this point, your brain had finally started working again, so you rushed to get between the two.
“okay, can we please be a bit rational here?”
you were facing mark, watching as the upper part of his mouth twitched, and you just managed to keep a straight face when amanda mumbled something about ‘his lip injections going haywire.’
“and can you please sit down?” you finally addressed both of them. they both grumbled as they made their own separate ways to take their places.
clearing your throat, you returned to your seat and ran your hands through your hair. “she’s not completely wrong,” you said as you faced the man who’d started this whole thing. “i don’t mind if someone’s older than me,” you started, looking back at amanda to correct her comment.
you looked back at mark, studying his face before finishing your statement. “but i don’t date men.”
amanda, for once, was happy your attention was focused on mark and not herself. she did not need you to see the shock (intrigue) on her face at that revelation.
mark just stared at you for a few moments, not quite sure what to say.
“oh.”
“yeah,” you started, your face starting to heat up at all the attention on you. it didn’t help that the topic of the matter was your sexuality and love life. “so. um… yeah.”
“then… you got a girlfriend?”
amanda perked up at this, wishing she could appear less interested.
“nope,” you let out with a sigh. “but it’s whatever. i like it here anyways, working on traps and helping out.”
“sure,” he said, scanning the room. it seemed like he didn’t really know what to do at that point… it was clear that flirting with you was his only objective, so it’s not like you had anything else to talk about. “i’m gonna go ask john about one of the next traps but i’ll be back soon.”
you nodded, while amanda gave a “yeah, whatever.” you tried not to laugh at their back-and-forth demeanor. it was clear they didn’t like each other— though, you weren’t a very big fan of mark either. you had a hard time believing anyone was, really.
amanda, however… you weren’t quite sure how to feel about her. you never interacted much; mark made more of an effort to talk to you, and you didn’t even like him. if anything, you were confused by amanda.
she didn’t really talk to you, but for some reason it was like she didn’t want anyone else talking to you either. on the rare times that she did give you more than a few minutes of her attention, she would snap at anyone who interrupted the conversation— anyone besides john, of course.
“so you’re gay?”
the question struck you out of your thoughts, nearly making you jump. you turned and faced amanda completely, pausing a few minutes to take in her presence.
“yeah.”
“cool.”
a few silent seconds passed before amanda spoke again with a slight smile playing at her face. “me too.”
“yeah?” you tilted your head, meeting her eyes.
“yeah… and i really didn’t like seeing hoffman flirt with you,” she replied.
you paused, not sure whether you should push it any further. “amanda young,” you said with a dramatic gasp. “were you… jealous?”
she immediately scoffed, rolling her eyes where she stood. “you wish.”
“i think you were,” you replied, taking a step closer. you tilted your head to the side and looked into her eyes. “i’m not stupid, amanda. you’re not subtle in the way you snap at everyone who tries to interact with me.”
her face slightly flushed at that. “that’s not true,” she sputtered out. “i snap at everyone.”
“pfft, yeah, whatever,” you let out.
“im serious,” she said, taking hold of your arm. you looked down at your arm and then back up at her, raising your brow. she quickly let go of it and brought her arm back. “i just don’t like people,” she reasoned. “it’s nothing personal.”
“sure.”
“whatever,” she huffed out. if looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under by now. you didn’t know a small body could hold so much rage, but you figured you’d save the psychoanalytics for later.
it was clear that you’d gotten under her skin, and a small part of you felt a bit of pride that you’d gotten the usually stoic girl to stutter and blush.
you grinned, making your way back to your desk covered in blueprints and plans. “and amanda,” you started. “let me know if you ever want to… collaborate.”
a/n: yayyyy more amanda fics 😙😙 this was really fun to write <3 i might make another part? idk i feel like leaving the ending open was kinda fun 🫣
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Charter Ch. 7
Warnings: drama, angst, public-ish fondling
The amount of rage I feel is otherworldly. After watching him dismiss Shoupe then John B and now me.. I’m ready to break something. I follow him back out front but halt my steps when I see him helping customers, like he didn’t just give me the best two orgasms of my life. But watching him lather on the charm for these two rich bitches seems to piss me off more. Especially as they soak it up and cast me shitty looks. I’m sure I look freshly fucked and I’d love nothing more than to rub it in their faces who’s cock was just inside me but I bite my tongue, busying myself with restocking.
“If you ever need help, let me know. I know good help is hard to find.” I hear one of the bitches say. I shoot her a look at the same time JJ glances at me. I know he’s trying not to laugh but fuck him too.
“I’ll keep you in mind when we’re hiring again.” JJ lathers on the charm and I could kill someone. I make my way out the front door and down the pier. I needed to clear my head. I’m half way down the dock before I stop, panting to catch my breath. He was in me like a sickness. Like a disease spreading throughout my body that would surely kill me. What had started as harmless fun had quickly turned into something else. I fucking missed him
“Y/N!” I startle at the sound of a familiar five years olds voice, followed by fast approaching footsteps. Summer barrels into me just as I turn around, engulfing me in a hug that could bring tears to my eyes.
“We came to see you and daddy!” Summer beams up at me just as Sarah and her daughter approach. I smile and she smiles back.
“She was insisting.” Sarah says, rubbing her daughters back.
“Come on, let’s go say high!” Summer leads me back towards the Charter until her and her cousin decide to race down the dock. Sarah shakes her head with a laugh, falling into step with me.
“John B told me what happened with Chelsea. I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into the middle of that mess.” Sarah says, watching as the girls burst through the door to no doubt bombard JJ.
“Thank you. Definitely wasn’t expecting it.” I shrug, my eyes on the slats beneath our feet.
“Listen, JJ is difficult.” Sarah pulls me to a stop and I face her. “He didn’t come from a loving home. I’ve never even heard what happened with his mother but his father was an abusive addict who was gone more than he was here and when he was here, he was getting JJ to fix up his messes. JJ’s had a shit hand in life and then everything with Summer happened. Despite everything, she brought him back to life. She gave him purpose. But JJ has a tendency to push people away that get too close to their little bubble. He doesn’t want to risk Summer getting attached or hurt so if he’s pulling away, it’s because he’s scared.” I blink back at Sarah, my heart in my throat.
I don't know what to say so I only nod. We agreed in the beginning that this was only sex, no feelings. And so far I'd been wrapped up in baby momma drama and felt more feelings than I cared to admit. Sarah gives me a hug before following after the girls and into the shop. I can see JJ laughing as the two blonde headed girls talk adamantly to him. I was practically blinded by the twinkle in his eyes from how happy he was. Maybe I wanted him. But I didn't want to complicate his life either. I didn't want him to feel like he had to choose. So with a heavy heart, I hung my shop key on the hook next to the door, JJ's eyes immediately finding mine through the window. I turn away and make my way across the street to where I'm parked, refusing to let him see my tears.
It’s been three weeks. To say I miss him would be an understatement. But I refuse to acknowledge it. So I stay busy working at the bar and taking care of Bo. I entertain Jared when he comes in for drinks because I'm bored and need the tips. He begs me to take him back and I ignore him, moving to a different side of the bar. Part of me was afraid that Chelsea or her Goons would show up here but so far there's been nothing. My life had become boring and uneventful.
Part of me had expected some sort of reaction from JJ but I was also glad there hadn’t been one or else I’d have given in to him. Even if it made me sad. That’s why I stayed busy. I couldn’t miss him if I was too busy to breathe. It was the late nights when I was alone that emotion would choke me. I’d picture his grumpy attitude as he roughly bent me over the workbench. Or the spark in his eyes when I got mouthy as he thrusted into me. My stomach filled with butterflies and my pussy throbbed just thinking about him inside me again.
“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” I looked up at the sound of Jared’s shitty tone of voice, having been lost in my own head and going through the motions of making drinks.
“Jared, I’m working.” I signed, handing off three more beers to a couple of rowdy college guys. I could practically smell the fraternity on them.
“You’re always working. You never answer my texts or calls even now that you’re not with that asshole anymore.” Jared scoffed, downing his beer and sliding the empty bottle to me
“I wasn’t with him.” I muttered, uncapping another beer and giving it to him. I almost missed the way Jared tensed and his eyes narrowed.
“Right. You can fuck him all you want but you can’t be in a relationship with me. When did you become such a slut?” His words light me on fire. I could’ve hit him with an empty beer bottle but I resisted, gritting my teeth.
“The moment his big dick pushed inside me.” I spat before I could stop myself. Jared’s eyes flared and his hand on the bar balled into a fist.
“Fuck you, bitch. I’m done wasting my time.” Jared snatched his beer up and stalked off, shouldering other people out of the way.
“I need a break.” I muttered to my help, yanking my apron off and storming into the back. I let the back door slam behind me as I collapsed against the brick building. The bar rested on the pier, the back of the building facing the ocean so I watched as the son disappeared beneath the water and blanketed OBX in darkness.
“Ya know, if he hadn’t walked away from you when he did, you’d be throwing me out of this place.” I startled at the sound of JJ’s calm voice, whipping my head around to face him as he approached. My stomach immediately knotted with nerves and longing.
“What are you doing here?” I finally managed, my heart in my throat. JJ leaned against the building next to me, his bright blue eyes on my face like he was searching for something.
“I needed to see you.” He said it so matter of fact that all I could do was nod and turn away.
“It’s not just sex anymore.” JJ said smoothly, turning so he was leaned against the building and facing me.
“No.” I agreed, refusing to look into those eyes again.
Just being near him again made it hard to breathe. It had only been weeks but they’d been so long. I could smell the salt of the ocean on his skin, the weed on his clothes, the alcohol and mint on his breath, the shampoo in his hair. I blinked away tears as I shook my head again.
“I don’t think it ever was just sex with you.” JJ’s words radiate into my chest and I fight back a sob.
Suddenly his hand grabs the back of my neck and yanks me against him, his mouth finding mine in a bruising kiss I’m too weak to fight. A needy sound leaves me as I wind my arms around his neck and lift up on my toes to get as close as I can. His tongue finds mine as his hands tighten on my body, one on the back of my neck and the other on my back under my tank top.
JJ turns me so my back is against the brick again, his body pinning me in place as his tongue tastes the inside of my mouth. We make out like horny teenagers. Messy and full of tongue and teeth. I couldn’t stop. When he pops the buttons on my shorts and slides his hand into my panties, I nearly groan with relief.
“God, you’re so fucking wet.” JJ moans against my lips, his fingers massaging my slit. My knees felt weak and my legs trembled while he teased me.
“I missed this.” He applied pressure to my clit between kisses.
“I missed you.” Two fingers slid inside me and I gasped, gripping his shirt as he leaned over me to bury his face in my neck. I widened my legs as much as I could but the tight fit felt too good. Feeling him stretch me with two fingers and then three felt too good. His teeth graced my neck as I shamelessly rolled my hips to meet his hand, trying and failing to stifle my moans against his shoulder.
“Cum for me right now then take me home so I can fuck you as hard and fast as I want.” JJ practically growled in my ear, his free hand pinching my pierced nipple through my bra.
“Oh god!” I cried out, the orgasm washing over me like a tidal wave. My body shook uncontrollably and my legs nearly gave out as he worked me through it then didn’t stop. I suddenly heard footsteps off to my right and turned to see Jared there, looking like a deer in headlights before his gaze turned murderous. Why had he come back here? To find me? Hoping I was alone?
JJ turned his head too, looking right at Jared as his fingers worked harder, faster. I could feel the tension between them as JJ claimed me now like he did the day Jared came in the shop. JJ used his free hand to tuck his shirt over something, showing Jared the gun on his hip as he fingered me. I looked away from Jared’s rage and kissed JJ’s Adam’s apple. He swallowed and I bit him.
“One more then I’m going to fill this pussy with something else. Come on, baby. Cum all over my fucking hand.” I cried out again, throwing my head back against the brick as I came. It might’ve hurt if I wasn’t riding out the best high of my life.
My breathing was uneven and I could barely stand by the time he was done pumping his hand. I turned and thankfully found that Jared was gone. He probably would’ve charged JJ the moment he pulled his hand back out of my shorts and sucked them clean then kissed me again.
When I pulled back, I was breathless and exhausted. Yet I felt lighter than I had before. Like a weight had been lifted off. I smirked at the bite mark on his throat and he smirked back looking hungry as ever.
“When is your shift over?” JJ asked, pressing his pelvis against mine so I felt how hard he was.
“Anxious?” I tease, cupping him through his shorts. JJs eyelids fluttered and he pulsed in my hand.
“You think I won’t fuck you against this brick wall too?” JJ warned, leaning in to capture my mouth again. I wanted to give in. I wanted to feel him inside me more than anything else but we needed to talk. We had to have a conversation.
“J, we can’t just rush into this with sex. We have to talk.”
“Then let’s talk. Come over when you’re done. Bring Bo if you have too. Summer is with John B. I’ll make us dinner and we can talk. No sex until we do.” I could’ve melted at the determination in his voice. How much he wanted this.
“Deal.” I said, holding my hand out for him to shake. He took it.
“Deal. I’ll see you soon.”
#smutwarning#outer banks smut#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fic#obx2#jj maybank imagine#rudy pankow#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj obx#outer banks x reader#blueicequeen19#outer banks fanfiction
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But what if we didn’t want to be spared? What if we wanted to hear all your thoughts about Dean and him talking to Sam about Dean getting shipped off when he pissed off their dad?
Would you tell us then!??? ;)
in reference to this post here!
omg, hello friend!
well if you insist 👉👈
talking from a meta perspective, this is so fascinating to me! because a lot of john's control in the show is enforced by his absence.
in "bad boys," dean is punished by john's absence, and he has to face the legal ramifications of his theft. in all of season one, john's control is exerted over his sons by his absence--they follow his text almost religiously, and dean has become more loyal in his absence, not less. his intentions have to be assumed, so they are assumed pure and for the benefit of his sons.
we see multiple times (but off the top of my dome, in "the girl next door") that sam is controlled from afar by john (i.e., in john's absence) from having and maintaining "outside" social relationships. he keeps him working almost 24/7 for research (triple red eye, anyone?), and controls where and how he can spend his time (sometimes using dean as an enforcer of these rules).
it's like john is most effective when he's not there. the threat of him looms over the narrative in season one, and the shadow of him is lingering around every corner until the show ends. i mean, hell, this conversation happens in SEASON FOURTEEN. TWELVE YEARS after john dies in canon. the things that sam and dean kept secret from each other on behalf of their father, and the things we are still finding out about their relationship with him never end.
he is THE absent father, but john is absent in the way that sound is absent in a party when the music is cut off--it's oppressive, it's disorienting, and someone hits you in the stomach with their elbow because their groove has been thrown off.
and so i think it is SO INTERESTING that john also controls both sam and dean with dean's absence (or, really, his exile).
dean is the obvious one, because it's a punishment. in my head--although i guess we never get this confirmed--john sends him on individual hunts that dean could take care of solo. that way, dean has to work hard for his penance, and it's another way to keep him in check, instead of sending him off to...idk...organize bobby's sock drawer.
but also sam! john is inserting himself into and causing friction within their relationship. "i think you knew that" means that john did not tell sam that he sent dean away. it means that john didn't even tell sam what dean was doing while gone, because "it wasn't because i ran out on you."
the fact that sam does not correct dean here--or after--that he knew dean was doing something else, or doing something important, implies that john a) left out information [i.e., not giving an explanation at all for dean's absence] or b) LIED and told sam that dean ran out.
sam acknowledges that this is an apology. so john actively causes friction in their relationship (as we also see in season one) through controlling access to the truth, and controlling through exile.
i also like the fact that dean is bringing it up, in sam's words, as a "deathbed apology." UNTIL THE END, this is one of the things that dean wants to clear the air on. he knows that this hurt sam, and he is still thinking about it. it haunts him. which means he also never told sam the truth, himself.
if he comes back, and sam is furious like "hey man, why did you run off?" dean just grins and accepts it and either goes along with the lie or dodges the question. sam's disapproval and pain are part of the punishment.
it also has fun implications for stanford, because what is "if you walk out that door, don't you ever come back" if not "sending away"? while i'm sure the words were spoken in anger and pain (as seen by dean in S4), john's control has always been absences and exiles and that stays true here. he is able to control both sam AND dean through sam's exile, because now dean can only depend on john, and sam completely cut off from everything he has ever known. it's a punishment for leaving, and a last minute (effective) method of controlling his departure. sam doesn't have any agency over whether he can come back, or if he wants to keep contact with them. he turns sam's act of agency into a punishment.
(not to mention, it's all very biblical in the michael & lucifer-ity of it all. the good son is exiled and proves his worth, being ultimately accepted into the fold. while the bad son is cast off for disobedience, and the good son accepts his exile and turns away from his brother. the father becomes absent. god and john are both more powerful in their absence, and the resulting power vaccuum is still about god, even when he's not there. who is most loyal? who is right? does this man/being deserve our loyalty? if he hurt us sometimes, does that make him bad? was he ever good? should we lie to ourselves and say an unequivocal yes, anyway? because if we tell the naked, scary truth, that means that we hurt each other for no reason, and will keep choosing to do so. because that's what he taught us to do.)
all this to day, THE IMPLICATIONS! THEY ARE RUNNING AROUND IN MY BRAIN! this scene is SO fascinating to me because it reveals an interesting new facet of their relationship to john and each other. do i think some of john's control was exerted as an act of love for his sons during some pretty intense extenuating circumstances? yes. do i also think that things like this were an insane power play meant as a punishment because john was an angry man? also yes.
(i didn't even get into the "you practically raised me" and "you were the one that was always there for me. the only one." which are also INSANE and i'm eating those words rapidly.)
thank you for this ask, lol!! it was so nice to see! i'm so lucky i have folks who love to scream and shout w me about these fellas! i hope my thoughts made at least a little sense. i am stirring this scene in my brainrot cauldron rn.
-lizzy
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less than tactical touch
prompt 1: hand holding
well wELL WELL!!! Look who's back at it again. Oh? What's this, you ask? Well, nothing really... just my attempt, yet again, at posting for Writingtober, or whatever. SFW Kinktober, if you will.
Yes, I'm so very behind. No, I will not catch up. You can partially count these prompts for NanoWriMo. They're definitely not being finished during the month of October. but!!! here's the first one.
it's Ghost. Yes. What about it? This year, I'm also doing something a little different in that I'm only going to be writing characters I want to write instead of randomizing a few of my favs amongst fan favs. It'll just make the writing process for me easier.
either way!! without further ado, here's a bit of touch starved ghost to kick these prompts off! I hope you enjoy :)!
Word Count: 1.7 k
The rescue went as smoothly as it could, but the rebound is showing its taxing nature. You’re incredibly tired, but Kate brought you out here to do your job. With all that's come to light in the past twelve hours— you were grateful to be on this side of things.
Finding out what happened to Ghost and Soap seriously gutted you. Hearing the report by word of mouth when Kate and Captain John Price found out what Graves and Shepard had attempted to do with Ghost, Soap, and Los Vaqueros… it makes your blood boil thinking about it now.
Laswell had told you to ‘pack your shit together’ as soon as she’d heard word from Price that they’d been successful with extracting the boys from Grave’s personal prison. That’s what you could only describe it as, the stupidity of it all. They were out and heading to a base where, apparently, you had been requested to appear at too.
You didn’t need a hint to know who had requested your being there in the first place. So, following Laswell’s directions, you quite literally packed your shit together as quickly as possible, got in a car, and you were off to the safe house.
Here, feet imprinting into the dirt floor of this other warehouse for Los Vaqueros, you weren’t waiting more than a couple of minutes before the vans arrived. The one leading holds Alejandro and the majority of his men, the next van is the one Rudy hops out of. They barely recognize your person, or don’t fully acknowledge that it’s you. Rudy might’ve lightly waved, but you weren’t sure. There was an understanding amongst everyone— the circumstances existed. There was no changing that, or them, there was going forward with them. Stakes were just different, seriously for better or for worse.
The third truck pulled up as you pushed forward to take a peek outside, observing the unfolding chaos already emitting from the first two cars. It slowed to an easy halt next to the first two vehicles, and the doors kicked out. The team members of 141 all immediately begin to pile out. Price fronts the group as always, but instead of his approachable demeanor from when you’d first met him, you swear there’s almost steam emitting from his head he’s so pissed. Gaz is behind him, slamming the truck door shut and starting to march into place behind the leader before he scans his surroundings and finds you.
Kyle’s demeanor shifts entirely, the glare shifts into something softer. He’s approaching you before he can think twice, and you’re grateful that someone like him is also present through all of this.
“Hey…” he sighs, sounding too tired. “When’d you get here?”
“Couple minutes ago.” You reply simply, tilting your head on its side. “… Is everything okay? What happened with you guys?”
Gaz is back to looking uneasy, and he averts his eyes toward the floor, “…Well—“
“It was fuckin’ Graves.” The Scottish accent angrily hisses on the other side of your head, you alarmingly turn to address it. Soap is marching on, following after Price. “Graves and Shepard, to be exact. The fuckin’ twats tried to kill us.”
“How?” You turn back to Gaz, seeing that Soap wasn’t going to stay and chat details.
“He—“
“He tried murderin’ us, that’s what.”
You barely have time to process what’s just been spoken in your direction, and your eyes are bulging wide as the six-foot-three soldier comes marching up to you and Kyle— promptly pulling you off by your arm. The only heads-up being the singular statement.
“Uh? Ah?” You start to vocalize— Gaz only helplessly watches as the large, skull-faced soldier drags you away by your upper arm. And you’re fumbling with coming up with something to say. How to interject, get him to stop. But he’s so much bigger than you, and Gaz is nowhere near his stature either.
You both watch each other as it happens, Gaz helplessly sending a single wave in your direction before turning off to follow his captain who was barking orders to get a handle on the situation. You want to be in that conversation, not dragged away and hidden which seemed to always be the goal of Ghost whenever you were both present at debriefings.
“Stop stalling,” Ghost growls, pulling your closer, “I know you can walk faster than that.”
“I— sure? But— Simon.” You pull against his grasp, and it’s very clearly not going to do anything. His fingers were still pressing marks into your wrist, a reassuring soreness. “Simon. Please?”
Your voice is softer than you expect, and it must catch him by surprise too. He let’s go, turning back and peering down at you through the eye-sockets of his skull mask. The dark eyes shadowed by the black face paint, it always captivates you in so many ways. This time, it is tender. He’s really seeing you, and you can’t grasp entirely why.
“I wasn’t there, and I’m now here. You’re here, you made it back, nothing’s happening right in this moment.” Gently, you reach your own hand in his direction. Brushing your fingers over the space in-between his tactical gear. The long sleeve is thick, but it’s warm from him, and the moment is suddenly careful. “We’re okay.”
Simon never looks away while you stay focused on his arms, and the silence isn’t anything new. He’s typically quiet, everyone knew this, but the presence in his stare holds a weight in your chest. It compels you to look back, the warmth in his stare all the more evident. It holds you there, it closes you off from the rest of the warehouse and makes it your moment together.
“…I can’t let you out of my sight.” Simon’s hand reaches for his glove, he’s ripping at the velcro and pulling the item from his palm. His veined hand stretches out once free, and it’s reaching for your bare palm as well. “It was you, in the back of my mind. Last night…”
“Simon…” you murmur, letting him take up your hand and delicately turn it over so your palm faces the ceiling. His fingers, weightless, brush over the creases in your palm. It tickles, and you sadly smile. “I’m right here. Shepard was never in contact with me.”
Reaching the edge of your palm, his hand finally clasps around your own. His touch is forever warm, and reassuring, and your heart feels like it might as well leap out of your throat. Physical touch is rare with Simon, and this isn’t the first time he’s been soft with you… but, it’s not just you two alone. There are Vaqueros, and 141, and no one’s actively paying attention, but you know that they’re there. And he knows it too. So why—
“I don’t care,” he squeezes your hand tightly, “You weren’t with me.”
“I was with Laswell.” You meekly reply, like it will help whatever turmoil Simon is feeling over the fact he was away from you.
Ghost’s head shakes in displaying Laswell wasn’t enough. He takes you in by your hand, and suddenly the towering man envelops your waist in one arm. He still holds tight to your hand, your grasps carefully remaining between your chests. You can feel your heart beating lightly against your knuckles, Ghost’s gear swallows his heartbeat in full. But he’s breathing, his shoulders are gently rising and falling with that much evidence.
Lightly closing your eyes, you press your forehead against the front of his jacket. Plastic straps slightly dig back against your skin, and his hand snakes up to gently lay against the back of your skull.
“I’m here now?” You offer softly.
“Hah,” his laugh is humorless, but the sound makes you smile. A pathetic, maybe grateful smile.
His hand squeezes against yours again, and it’s only then when your eyes sting. You both were here, and the weight of it presses down on your shoulders with a newfound emotion. It’s almost unexpected, how the sadness wells up and hits you in your sinuses. He’d clearly been prepared for the worst when he you couldn’t recognize it until now. The degree of what happened… what is now going to happen with handling the Shadows and Shepard. Moments like these were few and far between, no wonder it’s happening all like this suddenly.
Who knew when there would be time to have another moment like this. Caresses and whispers and warmth. It’s all too fleeting, and before one of you can highlight that, there’s a call from a few feet away.
“Ghost.” It’s Soap, and as you turn to look at the man who’s tone resonates with you, the shorter Scottish man frowns further. “C’mon. Price got Shepard on the line. You should listen in.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead walks back in the direction from which he came. Simon is still protectively wrapped around you, and evermore slowly he begins to unravel.
His accent utters your name softly, and you reach up to place a quiet hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
“I’ll still be here when all is said and done. We are going to make it out of this together. Okay?”
You’re holding his worrisome stare, and though he looks nervous, your words make sense to him. He softly nods, leaning in and managing to angle the tip of his chin so he could press his lips through the fabric of his ski mask and lightly kiss you on your forehead.
After a brief pause, he completely pulls away. Turning back in to the Special Force member he knew was expected of him. “Right, I’ll be off then. See what Shepard has to say for himself. In the meantime—“
Simon turns back towards you to which you hold out your hand. As if to pace him. “I’ll be right there as soon as your done. Don’t worry.”
He nods again, turning forward and marching on. “Yeah. You better be, otherwise it’ll really turn into a shit show around here too.”
You snicker softly at the man’s stubbornness, but don’t say anything more. You don’t need to imagine the result of his frustrations if that was how he was going to act as soon as he laid eyes on you just moments before.
Instead of waiting around, you pull out your phone. Opening your messages with Laswell, you give her the update…
Made it, safe and sound. You made a good point on why I should be here. Someone’s happy to see me.
Laswell: Good to hear. I knew he would be. I hate to say I told you so, but… well. I definitely told you so.
You don’t hate it.
Laswell: You’re right. I don’t :)
#fanfic#oneshot#writing#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#ghost cod#ghost mw2#reader insert#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#cod mw2#hand holding#sfw kinktober
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PT.2 GHOST X GN READER SLOW BURN
Please tell me if there's any mistake it would be the greatest. Also sorry it took a while to post. I got real lazy hahahhah.
I unpacked my belongings, and let out a sigh of relief. I look at the clock. “Christ lunch already? Good, I'm starving.” I quickly make my way towards the lunch hall. Everyone is sitting and joking around with their friends. Suddenly, someone with a mohawk makes his way towards me.
"You, the new recruit, ain't you'?" He smiles as he pats my shoulder, like he's greeting an old friend.
"Yeah, I guess I am, huh?” I smiled back at him and let out a small chuckle at his Scottish accent.
“John Macktavish, but you can call me Soap! Follow me; I'll introduce you to Gaz!” He starts walking away and leads me to a table with someone else sitting there, which I assume is Gaz.
“Gaz,” Soap speeds up his walking. “Look at the new recruit!” He gestures towards me as I finally catch up to him.
“Hello…I guess.” I wave and shrug awkwardly.
“Hi, Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.” He waves back.
“Alright, Gaz.” I say
Soap sits down and pats the spot next to him. "Well, I'm sure you've met Ghost.”
“I have…he's..” Before I respond, Soap cuts me off.
“Let me guess, broody?” He says in a matter-of-fact way, followed by a laugh.
I laugh at his words, “Right on the money!”
“He's not heartless; you just have to wait for him to warm up, ain't that right, Gaz?” He looks toward his friend for approval.
“You're making him seem like some snake,” he replies back, “but yeah, he's not too bad to be around.” He shakes his head as he talks.
"Hmph, I'll say he called me a ‘twat when I first saw him." I laugh remembering the insult. Gaz and Soap laugh at the comment as well.
Gaz speaks up. “You'll get used to him, trust me, you'll be fine.”
“You sure? I won't be surprised if he kills me or something.” I shake my head and chuckle.
"Noooo, I'm sure you'll actually be his favorite. Just watch and wait.” Soap pats my back. “I'm sure you'll get along well!” Suddenly, heavy footsteps approach, and we all look behind us to find Ghost walking towards us.
“Who's favorite?” Ghost asks with a glare.
"Nothing, LT, just getting to know the new recruit.” Soap shrugs as he starts eating his meal, which is when I realize I never grabbed my damn food.
"Shit, I forgot my food.” I sigh and stand up. “I'll be back. I need to grab a meal.”
I hear Ghost scoff before mumbling “dumbass.” under his breath. (Bastard fr) I grab my meal and return to the table. Ghost barely acknowledges me, and I don't pay him any attention either. Later in the day, training starts, and it feels like hell.
“Holy shit I'm going to die, aren't I?” I grumble and wipe my forehead, and sweat basically covers my whole body.
“Don't know what Price saw in you if you can barely handle a basic workout.” I hear a voice from behind. I turn around, and I am met with Ghost.
I glared daggers at him before responding, “who knows?” I shrug my shoulders and continue to workout. I can feel Ghost stare at me like he's trying to kill me. I'd probably be dead if looks could actually kill. Hours later, when the workout finally ends, I head to the shower room. As I leave the shower room, I pass by Price's office, and I hear a few voices. I decided to be nosey and listen for a little.
I hear Ghost's voice talking to Price, and I make out some words: “Why do we need someone like them? They can barely handle the workout.” His voice is sharp, and he sounds pissed.
Price responds calmly, like he's already been through this multiple times. “They're a great asset to have, and trust me, you'll warm up to them soon.”
“Doubt that,” I hear Ghost scoff, “they're just dead weight at this point.” I roll my eyes as I hear Ghost complain, and I assume he's complaining about me.
I start walking back to the barracks and decide it's better to just ignore Ghost and decide to hopefully one day get on his good side. "Ugh, I'm not going to last,” I say as I lay down on my cot. I rub my eyes and decide it's better to get rest rather than think about stupid things.
~~next day~~
I wake up to the annoying alarm and quickly turn it off. I stretch my arms, popping my joints. “Wow, what a beautiful morning.” I say to myself sarcastically as I get up and prepare for breakfast. I make it to the lunch hall, and Soap waves me over to sit with him, Gaz, Price, and Ghost. I sit down next to Gaz, and he passes me a breakfast tray he saved for me. “Thanks Gaz.”
“No problem, C/N,” he says with a smile.
Price speaks up. “so? How is the base? Up to your standards?” He said in a joking tone.
“It's more than I expected.” I laugh. I notice Ghost is still quiet and cold as ever. I turn to look at him. “Had a good sleep?”
He glares before answering, "It would be better if you weren't here.”
I put my hand up to show my innocence: “no need for the hostility.”
Soap looks at Ghost and chuckles, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He laughs trying to lighten the mood.
“Shut it, Johnny.” He says sternly.
“Just sayin,” he responds with a smirk.
~~Time skip to the afternoon~~~ (wow I'm so good at this/jk)
After breakfast, I head to the shooting range and practice my shots. After a couple of hours, I decided to leave the shooting range and do something else. As I start to clean up and pack my belongings, Ghost approaches me.
“Price wants us for a meeting in 5 minutes.” He says sternly before turning and walking away.
“Yes sir.” I mumble. I finish packing and cleaning up and head to the meeting room. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, and a woman who looks like she's ready to tell us some life-changing shit.
“Nice to meet you, y/n l/n; I'm Laswell.” She gives a slight smile.
“Nice to meet you too.” I respond back quickly and come to the conclusion that she's probably the head of the 141 team.
"Well, let's get to the point. There's a mission you guys need to do to gather some valuable Intel. It is very important that it goes perfectly, so Ghost and C/N will be paired while the others provide support. I expect the utmost best on this mission." She looks around, making sure everyone understands the importance of the mission.
"Yes, ma'am,” everyone replies in unison.
“I'll be in contact.” She says and quickly leaves. She seems to be very busy.
Price speaks before anyone can say anything: “You guys heard her. We'll leave for the mission tomorrow at 0100 hours. I expect everyone to be ready. You'll have the rest of the day to rest up and prepare.”
“Yes sir.”
~2330~~
Everyone is in the meeting room, discussing the mission. I look at everyone. 'Hopefully I won't die’ I think to myself. Ghost suddenly spoke, snapping me out of my thoughts. “you sure they're ready? They're already daydreaming.” Ghost voice is teasing, and it's pissing me off.
“At least I have an imagination.” I say without thinking, and everyone stares at me in surprise. “Oops…sorry…” I try to avoid everyone's eyes.
Ghost rolls his eyes as Price speaks, “Just get along and don't fuck up this mission or your arses will be the ones to blame, got that?”
“Yes sir.” Me and Ghost respond. I see Soap and Gaz laughing at us. It finally reached 0100 hours, and we all got into the helicopter. We arrive on the mission, and we hide in the forest, waiting for an opportunity to get inside.
“Don't forget you two; don't screw up." Price glares at us, making sure we get the message.
He sends us into the building, and I stay close behind Ghost. We hid around the building, awaiting the signal to continue. I look at Ghost before speaking. “Why are you such an ass?”
Ghost stares at me before responding, “why are you such an annoying prick? Hmm?” He rolls his eyes as we finally get the signal to continue.
“Christ…” I scoff. We make our way through the building, hiding and killing people if they pose a threat. Suddenly, an enemy soldier runs towards Ghost and attempts to stab him before he could stab Ghost. I shot him in the heart. “Are you okay?” I ask Ghost
“The greatest I've ever been.” He answers without acknowledging that I just saved his arse. I roll my eyes, and we finally arrive where the Intel is stored. “Grab the Intel c/n I'll keep a lookout.” He says sternly as he gets ready to fight, just in case.
“Alright…” I quickly grab the Intel and gather it into a vanilla folder. "Okay, let's go!” Ghost leads the way, and we make it back to the others.
“You guys get along?” Soap asks as he elbows Ghost in a joking manner.
“Good enough.” He says as we all start walking back to the exfile location.
~~back at base~~
I take a shower in warm water, and the feeling makes me sigh in relief. I finish the needed shower and make my way to the mess hall. I look in the fridge and notice a tray with a note stuck to it; it reads, ‘didn't want to leave you starve, so saved some food- Soap :).’ I chuckle at Soap's smiley face. I heat it up and sit down at a table. I start eating my food peacefully, and I hear heavy footsteps walking towards me. I look up and see Ghost without saying a word. He sits next to me.
“Thanks for saving my arse.” Ghost eyes meet mine as I smile.
“No problem.” Before I could continue talking, Ghost interrupts me.
“Starting’ to think you aren't such a pain in the ass.” He then quickly gets up before I could fully process what he said.
“Wait what…” I groan in annoyance, “Christ…” I finished my food and made my way back to the barracks. As I approach my cot, I see a candy bar on my pillow. I grab it “it's probably from soap…hmph.” I eat it before quickly settling in for bed.
#cod mw2#ghost x gn reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#im lazy#simon ghost riley#ghost x male reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x female reader#ghost x f!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader
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Sad Eyes (Doctor!Joe x Nurse!Reader) Part One
Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Warnings: cursing, mention of medical procedures and illnesses, one-bed trope, a lot of unprotected sex (be smart folks), oral sex (female receiving), creampie, ex-lovers--if I forgot anything let me know.
**I have been working on this for a long time. I started with the present day and will be working my way back through their past, switching between the past and present-day as you'll soon learn their past (and present-day) is and will become very complicated!**
***Also special thanks to @josephs-quinns for making my header! I love you!***
Also inspired by the song I linked above.
It was hard to focus on checking the charts at the end of your shift, one of the vital steps of preparing for the next shift to come on. You kept hearing chattering about how Dr. Joseph Quinn, your ex-fiancé had been asked to speak in Boston for the John Hopkins award ceremony about his continued research of curing type 1 diabetes in children and even being nominated for the Lasker Award, which granted, was a huge deal. Especially for your hospital.
In a surprising twist of fate, you all had ended up in the same facility, working together. Once again. At the end of the day, you all made a great team but it was hard to be in the same room with him. You were one of the charge nurses. Lately, you had been working the night shift since you were so short, and waking Dr. Quinn up was like waking the devil up some nights. All your co-workers dreaded calling, leaving the unwanted task to you. You didn’t mind—any chance to get under his skin was fun for you.
And you’d only call if it was warranted. For instance, the child was not getting better regardless of your interventions. The ones you could do without the doctor’s orders. You knew what he liked, what he preferred for his patients. If the child continued to decline, you’d call. He’d come in, sulking as usual. He wouldn’t greet you. It pissed you off, but as long as the patient was taken care of, there wasn’t much you could say. Before leaving, he’d give you orders in a monotone before either leaving as fast as he came or sticking around to see if the child improved, charting his interventions.
He was a good doctor—a great doctor when it came to interacting with children, talking to them in a soft voice, and explaining things on their level. He’d make them laugh, and make small talk about their favorite toys. You hated to watch him interact with children because it made you want to forget how he wronged you. It made your ovaries hurt, reminding you at one point that could have been in your future. It pained you slightly, making you look away before continuing your work.
“Hey Y/N.”, a fellow nurse, Rachel got your attention.
“Please tell me a child is not crashing.”, you groaned, barely looking up from your paperwork.
“No—Dr. Quinn is asking to speak to you.”
You sighed, rubbing your face. “Where is he?”
“Doctor’s dictation.”
You nodded, getting up from your chair. He was here unusually early this morning. However, he was a morning person. He’d go for runs before work, coming home to take a quick shower. You remembered it well. Some mornings, he’d wake you up before his shower and it would end in sex. There was something about him being all sweaty and warm, his cologne from the night before mixed with the musk of his natural pheromones.
You knocked on the door easily.
“Come in.”
You opened it easily, closing your eyes and preparing for the tongue-lashing. “What did I do this—?”
“Nothing.”, he responded easily, getting up and closing the door back. “I have a proposition for you.”
“And what’s that?”, you crossed your arms, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes.
He smiled that charming smile, the one that he knew made you weak in the knees. “Well, I’m up for the Lasker Award. And I’ve been asked to speak at John Hopkins about my ongoing research regarding curing type one diabetes in children.”
“The whole hospital knows that.”, you groaned, grabbing the door knob.
You were clearly not in the mood to put up with this tom-foolery.
“But I need a plus one.”, he eyed you, putting his hand over yours.
You glared at him. “And you don’t have someone you could call? A charming, handsome doctor with money?”
“It would be a good team-building experience for us.”
“Did you finally get reprimanded for your behavior?”
You moved your hand from the doorknob, crossing your arms, and deciding to finally hear him out.
He laughed easily, brushing through his curls. “I just know there’s been a lot of tension between us. And I want to try and make it better.”
Was he serious? Where was the Joseph that had been here for weeks? You felt the slight tension in the air, pondering this idea.
“The hospital’s going to pay for everything. This won’t go against your paid time off.”
“Separate hotel rooms?”
He nodded. Were you really about to give in and do this? Part of you began to think you’re psycho and the other half was debating the free food, free room, and a small break from the mundane work of being a nurse. But you truly loved working with kids even if the doctor you had to deal with was your ex and an ass at times.
“Fine. When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Go home and pack. Our flight boards at nine in the morning. Also, pack some dresses. One for the awards. Some for dinner.”
You nodded, giving him a confused look. “Okay.”
“Be at the airport at eight?”
“Yeah, see you then. Goodnight—well good morning, Dr. Quinn.”
“Joe.”
“Dr. Quinn.”, you looked back at him as you opened the door, closing it gently behind you.
All the nurses were waiting for you to start huddle. Trying to gain your footing was hard, especially after being riddled with the suggestions Joe had. You weren’t used to him being nice anymore. Lately, he had been an asshole. Especially when he had been on a date a month ago, you had to call and interrupt because one of the children was crashing and fast. He came right in, suit and all. You explained everything that had happened, keeping good notes and keeping up with the child’s vitals.
He decided to intubate on the floor, sending the child straight to the ICU. You helped with the intubation, giving him the medicine and supplies he needed. You both worked together like a well-oiled machine contrary to popular belief. He did at least tell you that you had made the right call even if you knew that already. He said his date was out in the car as if he was trying to make you jealous. It may have worked slightly, but you didn’t let him know that.
After giving a report to the dayshift charge nurse, you went home. You stripped out of your uniform before getting a quick shower and washing your hair. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you began to pack for this trip. Part of you was still in disbelief you had agreed to do this. This was going to be a long few days and you weren’t quite sure how you were going to survive.
Another pediatrician agreed to pick up Joe’s load of patients, another nurse covering your shifts. You knew there was going to be talk about you both going together, but right now you didn’t care. That wasn’t your biggest issue at hand. The next morning you caught a cab to the airport, still trying to wake up. A text popped up on your phone.
-On your way to the airport?
How did Joe have your phone number? Granted, you hadn’t changed it since you all had dated. But then you remembered you had to call him from your personal cell phone while the phone lines were down one night.
-Yeah, should be there in 10-15.
It was just a second before another message popped up.
-Brill. See you soon. X
You rolled your eyes lightly as you continued to make small talk with the cab driver. It wasn’t long before you arrived at the airport, unloading your suitcase before making your way into the airport. You checked which gate you were leaving from again on your phone. Dropping your checked bag off was the easy part. Moving through the crowd of people wasn’t the first thing you wanted to do in the morning but here you were. You checked the gate number on your phone again, making sure you were in the right spot.
Butterflies began to rise in your stomach, and the nerves beginning to set in. You scanned the airport for any signs of Joe but didn’t see him. You felt someone tap your shoulder, causing you to jump and turn around.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine.”, you brushed your shirt easily.
“I brought coffee. Your favorite, iced mocha latte.”
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to.”
“I know,”, he began easily, setting his bag near yours. “I thought it was a kind gesture.”
You knew you were giving him a weird look. Since when did he make “kind” gestures for you? It was something you weren’t used to. Not anymore. That ship sailed when he decided to leave and chose his career over his fiancee.
“Thanks.”
It was tense and quiet between you both as you stood there, waiting for the announcement that your group was able to board. You sipped your iced coffee in silence, the awkwardness taking over. It felt like an eternity before they finally called your group number, Joe allowing you to go first. You closed your eyes, moving with the cord of people. This was going to be a long plane ride. Yours and Joe’s seats were together, him letting you choose whether you wanted the aisle or the window.
You chose the window, instantly stowing your purse below your seat. Joe was up, still working on putting his carry-on and yours in the overhead compartment. Trying to divert your attention was hard. Joe was tall but he was stretching, his shirt riding up. You swallowed hard, looking away just as you gained a glimpse of his stomach and happy trail. Memories instantly rushed through your head—waking up with him in the morning, your head on his chest. He’d wake up and ask you how you were before you both shared a lazy kiss before he’d pull you on top of him, whispering for you to fuck him before work.
“Got them.”, Joe breathed a sigh of relief, bringing you out of your daydream.
“Great.”, you smiled widely, the awkwardness apparent.
You focused on the other passengers boarding the plane, focusing in and out on the small talk you were sharing with Joe. Once everyone was boarded, the pilot began to read off the usual flight instructions as he prepared for take off. It had been a while since you had flown on a plane. The last time for Christmas to see your parents for a few days after, considering doctors and nurses never had a holiday. Joe could tell you were tense as the plane soared down the runway.
“Feeling okay?”
As if he really cared about your feelings or fears.
“Fine.”
“You’re knuckles are turning white.”, he eyed them on the armrest.
“I’m fine.”, you repeated with a slight nip in your voice.
He threw his hands up easily, resolving and backing off. “Okay.”
Once the plane got in the air and the turbulence settled, you felt some relief. There was silence between you and Joe for a bit and you hoped if maybe you closed your eyes, he’d leave you alone. Somehow, you ended up falling asleep. All you remember was waking up to the announcement that the plane would begin preparing to land soon at Baltimore-Washington International Airport.
“Get a good nap?”, Joe asked with a smirk, peering over glasses and up from his papers.
“Um, yeah. I was exhausted.”, you mumbled, sitting up and hoping you hadn’t snored or drooled all over the place.
“Didn’t you sleep?”, his voice was half condescending.
“Night shift sucks.”
He nodded. “So does getting woken up in the middle of the night.”
You glared easily, narrowing your eyes. “At least you get paid well.”
“Mhm,”, he agreed. “I just love being woken up by your voice at two a.m.”
You felt your heart drop down into your stomach, opening your mouth to give a sarcastic response but you were interrupted by the pilot announcing you all would be preparing for landing, the plane descending quickly. That was the worst part for you after all the ear infections and trouble you had with your ears as a child. Joe didn’t speak to you, just watching you plug your ears. Landing was miserable for you. You counted down the minutes until it would be over.
After what felt like an eternity, you landed successfully. Joe grabbed your all’s bags from the overhead compartment, letting you go in front of him. What a gentleman, was chivalry dead? The airport was busy, full of hustle and bustle.
“Want to grab something to eat or something before we grab our bags and head to the hotel?”
It had taken six hours to complete the flight from Portland to Baltimore.
“Fine.”, you agreed.
You seemed to be distant, not talking much while you all sat at the bar called Martini. He ordered his usual—a filthy martini while you opted for your usual, a pina colada. He watched as you took a bite of your sandwich before chasing it down with a sip from your drink. Your eyes shot over to him, causing him to look away. He could remember the mornings you’d make him breakfast on the days you were off, sitting beside him at the bar in the kitchen.
It was a kind gesture that always made his mornings better. He’d take a sip of coffee before you both leaned in for a kiss.
“Want another drink, Joe?”, you asked, springing him out of his daydream.
The waiter eyed you both attentively, waiting for a response. You both agreed to another cocktail before agreeing this would be the last one. You wanted to get to the hotel and get settled in before his dinner plans came about. This would give you the chance to freshen up, maybe grab a shower and a quick nap. The waiter brought the ticket, you snatching it up before Joe could.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing how much my part is.”, you slurred lightly before opening your wallet and digging for your cash.
“Don’t worry about it. I got it.”, he wrestled to grab the ticket from your hand.
“No, you’re not paying for my stuff. Just because I’m a nurse doesn’t mean I’m poor.”
He eyed you, his brown eyes open in surprise. “I never said you’re poor. I’m just trying to do something nice for you.”
“Why? Because you talk to me like shit on the phone?”
You gasped as the sentence left your mouth, never intending to say it. You were thinking it, but the alcohol had decided that you would open your mouth and insert your foot. Drunk words were sober thoughts or some shit like that.
Joe eyed you, his brain trying to process everything.
“I mean—I know I’m kinda a jerk on the phone sometimes.”
“Joe.”
“No, you’re absolutely right. I’m an asshole.”, he chuckled bluntly before throwing back the rest of his drink.
You sighed, beginning to feel guilty for even saying it. If you could take your spiteful words back, you would have. Looking down at your phone, you began to feel awkward. Maybe you should have stayed in Portland, never coming with him in the first place. You knew better—you knew how this was going to play out. There were still deep-seated feelings of betrayal and hurt between you both. No small trip was going to fix that.
“I didn’t mean it.”, you said easily, fiddling with your fingers.
Joe chuckled to himself before looking up at you. “Those were real words. Your real feelings about how you feel that I treat you.”
You groaned. “I’m a little tipsy.”
“But tipsy enough to tell me basically you feel like I treat you like shit.”
“You do.”
“Do not.”
“Do so.”, you eyed him.
“How?”
“Can we please just drop it?”, you groaned, grabbing your purse.
“Fine.”, Joe resolved, clearly looking defeated.
You all got up, Joe looking on his phone to get an Uber. Grabbing your luggage, it was finally time to go to the hotel. You bit your lip, trying to focus on the fact that soon you’d be in your own hotel room and you could decompress. You could be alone in your thoughts, maybe get yourself together. There was hardly any conversation between you both as waited for the Uber.
“What kind of vehicle is it?”, you asked, looking away from him.
“Um, black Toyota Camry.”
“I think this is it.”, you muttered as you grabbed your suitcase.
You and Joe opened the back doors simultaneously.
“Quinn?”, the driver asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”, Joe said easily, fixing his glasses.
He was super casual today, wearing glasses and a baseball cap. He looked good in his t-shirt and button-up, jeans, and tennis shoes. You’d never known he was a doctor by just looking at him. You closed your eyes, buckling up and mentally cursing yourself for thinking about how good he actually looked. There was no way you were going to be wrapped back up in this trap again. Not with him. You couldn’t do this. You could barely be civil at work.
You looked out the window, trying to avoid him at all costs.
“So traveling for work or pleasure? A couple getaway?”
“Um—”
“No. We’re traveling for work.”, you interrupted.
Joe shot you a look as the driver seemed to sense the tension between you both. There was some small talk as you all took the twenty-minute drive to the hotel you were staying at. You couldn’t wait until this car ride was over so you could have some distance and space. You needed a hot bath and maybe some wine. The wine sounded really good.
You all pulled up to the entrance of the hotel, the driver announcing you had arrived. Joe grabbed both of your suitcases, unloading them as the driver waved goodbye and drove away.
“I can take my stuff.”
He handed it to you without putting up any fight or argument. You walked ahead of him, anxious to get to your room. Joe couldn’t help but look at you, your jeans fitting tighter than your scrubs did. He swallowed hard, trying to distract himself and look anywhere else but your body. He could remember you coming home after work while he was on call. You in the scrubs that hugged your body just right, he’d instantly beg to fuck you. He’d feel up on you while you hung your coat up and put your purse away.
“We have reservations.”, you spoke, bringing Joe back to reality.
“Name please.”
“Joseph Quinn.”, Joe spoke up, standing behind you.
“Okay. A room with a king-size bed.”, the receptionist eyed the computer, clicking through a few things with her mouse.
“I’m sorry? There’s supposed to be two rooms.”, you spoke up.
The clerk stopped, looking up at you. “I’m sorry. We are all booked up. That’s what your reservation was for.”
You looked back at Joe, feeling as if he had lied to you. You weren’t surprised by this behavior. It wasn’t the first time he had misled you.
“I thought you said it was two rooms.”
“It was. The hospital must have made a mistake—maybe they thought I was the only one going. Are you sure there are no other rooms available?”, he pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“I’m sorry sir. This is the only room we have available.”
“But there was supposed to be one for me and one for my nurse.”
You rolled your eyes at him before turning back to the clerk. “Does this have a sofa sleeper?”
Your grip tightened on the handle of your suitcase. In the back of your mind, you knew there was an ulterior motive. He was trying to be sneaky—he knew this entire time that there was only one bed in the room. Closing your eyes, you could feel the anger rise in your chest. You were so over this damn trip already. What the hell were you thinking when you agreed to go with him?
“Yes, mam.”
“Fine.”, you agreed, looking at Joe before crossing your arms. “Just—let’s take it. I’m tired.”
“Are you sure?”, Joe turned to look at you.
“Yes. Where else are we gonna go? The hospital paid for it. Let’s just take it.”
“Okay, fine.”, Joe turned back to the receptionist, before taking the keys from her. “Thank you, darling.”
“Of course.”
Joe grabbed his suitcase at the same time you grabbed yours. Feeling infuriated, you walked ahead of him to the elevator. Pressing the button for the elevator, you let out a loud sigh. Joe noticed but chose to ignore it. He knew you were pissed off at him. Even though, none of this was his fault. The elevator dinged, arriving at the lobby. Stepping inside, you were the only two in the elevator. It was complete silence until you arrived at the sixth floor.
Exiting the elevator, you pulled out your key to unlock the door. Joe could tell in your body language you were angry with him. He had seen it one too many times while you both were together. You threw the door open a little aggressively. He followed behind you, carefully closing the door behind you both. Now, you were locked in a room with him. For how many hours?
“I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed.”, Joe said easily.
“Fine.”, you responded.
Joe eyed you, watching you open your suitcase and take out your clothes and toiletry bag before going straight into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. He sat down on the couch, feeling defeated. Somehow, he had still managed to fuck up and you all weren’t together. He leaned back against the couch as he heard you start the water. He closed his eyes, trying not think about you in the shower. How could you be so close yet so far away?
Squeezing his eyes tighter, he tried to shove the thoughts of water running down your body out of his mind. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch just at the thought of you naked. He couldn’t do this—not here, not now.
“Fuck.”, he hissed, palming the bulge in his jeans—anything to get it to disappear.
Trying to focus his attention elsewhere, he grabbed his papers from his briefcase while looking down at the copy of his speech. It was handwritten, several lines crossed out and rewritten. He had worked on it endless nights—perfecting it. Most nights, he had barely drifted off before you were calling him to come back to work. Continuing to hear the water run, he looked down and began to read his speech from the beginning aloud.
He managed to run through it three times before he finally heard the water shut off. The sound of you sliding the shower curtain across the metal rod reached his ear. He bit his lip, waiting for you to throw open the door. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you open the door, smelling the scent of your body wash and perfume waft out of the bathroom behind you. He was fighting the urge to turn and look at you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you asked easily.
“Tell you what?”
Joe was surprised you were even speaking to him.
“There was only one room.”
During your shower, you had tried to talk yourself down before confronting him. You didn’t want to lose your cool on him. You had to work with him every day.
“I didn’t know.”, Joe said honestly as he looked up at you, his eyes over his glasses.
“I’ve heard this lie before.”, you laughed sarcastically. “Like when you said you had no idea you were going to have to relocate to Portland to be an attending in one of the most prestigious programs, becoming the head of pediatrics.”
You folded your clothes from the day, your lace gown brushing above your thighs. You didn’t make eye contact with him.
“I—”
“Please just save it, Joe.”
Joe’s mouth dropped open, face crinkling in confusion. “Y/N.”
“No—you act like it’s such an inconvenience. Like your life is so hard. It must be so hard—such a burden to be a doctor. You have to worry about giving a speech about your ongoing research to cure type one diabetes in children. Oh—and be nominated for the Lasker Award. I’m so sorry your life is so hard, doctor.”, you spat bitterly.
Joe scoffed before laughing bitterly in return. “This is a huge deal for me—for my career. This could change children’s lives. It could change medicine as we know it. I’ve worked hard—so fucking hard to be here and you’re not going to downplay it and take this away from me. I refuse for it to happen.”
You turned to see the fire in his brown eyes, narrowing your own. You had struck a nerve in him. You felt the anger rising in your chest. He could and would never accept accountability for his actions. Why couldn’t he just admit he was wrong? His pride always got in the way.
“Right. I forgot. You always choose your fucking career. It’s the most important thing in your life, isn’t it? More important than the people you love.”, you placed your hands on your hips.
Joe groaned, rolling his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and closing his eyes. This reminded him so much of fights you all would have at night once he got home from being on call. It was exhausting, he hated fighting with you. Your whole relationship was far from perfect, but he felt like you all were worth fighting for.
“Does it keep you warm at night?”
“Y/N.”, Joe said in a low tone, begging you to stop while you were ahead.
“Do you enjoy going to bed alone?”
“Y/N.”, he repeated, coming closer.
“Do you have a good fucking time jerking yourself off? That’s all you’re ever going to have. Especially if you continue to choose your career over the woman you supposedly loved.”
“For fucks sake!”, Joe snapped before grabbing your waist, pushing you against the wall.
You tried to protest, asking him what the hell he thought he was doing before his lips crashed into yours, you instantly melting into his kiss. You hated yourself for it, the old familiar feeling returning. It felt so wrong, but felt so right. Your tensed muscles relaxed as one hand found your waist, the other cupping your cheek. His hands were strong, large as your mind remembered they knew your body. He had memorized every curve, every freckle, every imperfection. But it was all perfect to him.
He pulled away, breaking the kiss as you looked up at him. Your eyes were locked into each other’s, neither one breaking contact.
Your face was crinkled in confusion. “Joe, what the—?”
He cut you off, his lips crashing back into yours. You didn’t fight it, part of you didn’t want to. It felt just like old times, the familiarity returning. It was like coming home after being gone for months. You had missed it whether you wanted to admit it or not. You had missed him. It felt like you both were miles away from each other even if you worked together on a daily basis. He pressed you closer against the wall, bringing his body closer to yours, eliciting a small moan from you. He chuckled lightly into the kiss.
Joe’s hands moved from your waist, trailing lightly down to the hem of your short-laced gown. You felt his fingers brush the midline of your thigh before he caressed your thigh, pulling the gown up in the same motion. He moved his hands until the gown was near your breasts. He wanted to squeeze them so bad—he was going to, if you’d let him. You broke the kiss momentarily, long enough for him to pull the gown up and over your head, leaving you only in your laced thong panties.
“Fuck—a thong?”, Joe eyed you, brown eyes gleaming in the low light.
“Yeah.”, your breath hitched easily.
“So sexy—I know you wear them at work.”
Your eyes narrowed. “And how so?”
Joe chuckled again, feeling you pull at the hem of his t-shirt. He allowed you to pull it up and over his head, careful not to knock his glasses off his nose. You admired his chest, tossing his shirt to the side before running your hands over his chest. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes before you brushed your hands down to his abdomen. He had to have been working out, running or maybe the gym.
“Because,”, his breathing caught. “You wear tighter scrub pants and I can always see the line of the thong trailing up your perky, tight ass.”
“You look at my ass?”
He chuckled again before shrugging. “Yeah, I love to see you walk away. What can I say?”
You rolled your eyes, reaching for the button on his jeans. “You men are pigs.”
“No—I just admire the view. If you’re gonna wake me up in the middle of the night, I should get something out of it.”
You undid the button on his jeans, feeling them go slack. “Nice to know.”
“Look,”, Joe groaned as he felt you unzip the zipper, finding the rest of his happy trail. “Do you know how many times I have to bite my tongue because other residents, other attendings are talking about how they wanna get in your pants?”
You paused, meeting his eyes. “They say that?”
He nodded. “Yeah. And I have to bite my tongue so damn hard.”
His jeans fell to the floor, he held your arms as he stepped out of them. Using his foot, he scooted them to the corner with his t-shirt. His baseball cap was on the table as you entered the room, the first thing he had removed. You couldn’t help but swallow hard as your eyes wandered down to his boxers. He was so hard and just for you. Fingers fumbling and shaking lightly, you pulled the waistband of his boxers down, beginning to expose him.
He inhaled sharp as you slid them down his thighs, following them. His hands moved to your shoulders, supporting you as you became face level with his cock. He groaned softly as his hands moved to your hair, tugging it lightly. Just enough to make you moan a little. For a moment, you debated taking him in your mouth but that’d have to wait.
“If they only knew how much attitude and sass you had.”, Joe swallowed hard.
You found the strength to raise your body back up, glaring at him. “You bring it out of me.”
He chuckled before moving his hands under your ass cheeks, picking you up in one swift motion. You squealed easily as he carried you to the pure white king-sized bed. It wouldn’t be for long. He continued to kiss you as he eased you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. His cock dug into your thigh as if it were begging to enter you already. Were you really going to let your ex-fiancé fuck you? Inhibition was out the door, the voice of reason fading.
“You’ve been so bitchy at work lately.”, his brown eyes resolved, him towering over you in bed.
He kissed you before you could respond, his hands roaming over your body before stopping at your breasts, giving them a squeeze and causing you to moan in his mouth.
“I have—to be a bitch. You’re such—a dick—especially at night when I have to call you.”, you barely got out between kisses as he took your nipple, twisting it and working it between his fingers.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
“You’re always the one who calls.”, he chuckled. “Do you like hearing my voice that much?”
Your eyes closed, your moan filling the hotel room. “No—the other girls are scared—to call you. Always—ask me to do it.”
“Oh,”, he said raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Well maybe I’m so irritable because I always have to take care of myself…and then I wake up alone.”
His head dipped, becoming flush with your chest. He took your other breast in his mouth, beginning to suck and nibble at your nipple causing you to dig your nails into his back. He groaned, mouth full of your breast. Truth was, he loved feeling your nails dig into his skin. It made him feel like you needed him—craved him. It was animalistic, your instincts taking over. You wanted—needed him to fuck you.
“Maybe—if you weren’t such an asshole—”, you hissed as he bit your nipple, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. “And chose your career over the people—you love, you’d have someone to wake up to and—fuck!”
He smirked, biting and sucking your nipple to get you off track or at least make it hard to finish your sentence.
“Take care of you.”, you whimpered, feeling his teeth ease up.
He leaned up, his weight lifting off of you. His broad, thick fingers found the side of your thong while you watched him with eager eyes. You cleared your throat easily, feeling the hoarseness beginning to sink in already. Your eyes wandered briefly down to his cock, his precum already oozing at the head.
“Just gonna move my panties to the side and fuck me?”
“Is that what you want? Wanna sass me?”, his brown eyes fixed on your vulnerable state.
You didn’t respond before speaking again. “Do you realize how much of a dick you truly are when I wake you up? It’s like you’re disappointed to hear my voice?”
“I have to come in and see you. I think I have a right to be irritable.”
He slid your thong down your thighs, legs, and ankles before cupping in his hands and bringing them to his face.
“What are you doing?”, you asked, face crinkled in confusion.
He put them to his nose, inhaling the scent of you, your cunt. “Fuck. Makes me wanna taste you.”
“Um—”, you tried to sit up slightly.
“Relax, lay back. Your scent arouses me.”
You laid back gently into the bed, just like he asked. Your hair was sprawled out behind you, and you felt yourself sink into the plush king-sized bed. After he was done getting your scent, he laid your panties to the side just in the event that he needed a reminder. You looked up at him, rubbing up his broad shoulders. He wasted no time in positioning himself, lining his cock right up with your throbbing, wet cunt.
Locking eyes, he asked you silently if you were ready for this. You gave him a light nod before he lined himself up again with you, brushing your cunt with his cock. He was teasing you, this was the calm before the storm. Your thoughts were interrupted as he shoved himself deep inside of you, splitting you open.
You gasped, gripping his arms while sinking your nails in his skin. “FUCK—you know I only—call if the child isn’t improving. And—we can’t manage it.”, you moaned the last of your sentence causing a smile to spread across his lips.
“Mhmm, you always have everything ready for me like a good little nurse.”, his palm brushed hair out of your face and back behind your ear.
You glared at him softly. “I just—don’t wanna hear your shit.”
He laughed while pushing deeper inside of you, his rhythm steady. A soft sigh escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut. Your mind was overstimulated. If breathing didn’t come naturally, you would have forgotten to do that.
“I’m trying to compliment you.”, he groaned as he narrowed his eyes, glasses attempting to fog.
Your eyes opened, hands moving to his face. You brushed through his sideburns, hooking your fingers on the frame of his glasses. You slid them off his face gently and carefully, moving them to the pillow away from you both to prevent them from getting bent and twisted.
“Anything—to get in my pants, right?”
“Didn’t take a lot of effort.”, he grunted, rutting inside of you.
“Fuck—you.”, you moaned, turning your head while feeling him place aggressive, hungry kisses on your neck.
“Oh, we already are, love.”
You didn’t respond, the sounds of sex filling the hotel room. You could hear how wet he was making you, the sound of you both intertwined together. It was the perfect storm—the rush of knowing better, knowing you shouldn’t be doing this, and the fact that he was balls deep inside of you.
“Deeper—harder, please.”, you whined pitifully.
You shut your eyes quickly, realizing how pathetic you sounded. It made you cringe at how much power he had over you. Even after all he had done, all he had put you through.
“Anything for you.”, he brushed your face, causing your eyes to shoot open.
His rhythm changed, the effort he put in changed. He was determined to make you orgasm, he needed to feel you clench around his cock. He needed to feel your juices wash over his cock. The thought alone almost made him whine. You all stared deep into each other eye’s as he continued to thrust deep inside you, balls smacking against your ass. Joe might have been a dick at times, but he was good at two things—being a doctor and sex.
Joe pulled your right leg over his shoulder, allowing himself more leverage as he continued to fuck himself into you.
“Fuck—Joe.”
“What, love?”
There was love.
“Feels good.”
“Does it?”, Joe breathed, placing a small kiss on your leg.
Were you really going to feed his ego right now? It was going to be big enough when he won his award. You had a feeling he would win. And you knew that no one would shut up about it. Not at the hospital. Not
“Fuck—yeah, Joe. I’m getting close…..”
Your answer was long and drawn out in a moan. You could feel your release barreling towards you like a train. No matter how badly you wanted to ride this out or savor this feeling, your body wasn’t going to let that happen. The hot, aching feeling of your orgasm was rising in your stomach, causing it to twist and knot as Joe grunted with each thrust. You let out a few small, abrupt moans signaling you were ready to cum all over his cock.
The sounds you made were like music to his ears, the sweetest symphony that he had missed.
“Cum for me, please cum for me—all over my cock.”
“Fuck—Joe….”, you bucked your hips slightly.
“What is it, love?”
“I’m gonna fucking—cum. Like right now.”
“Oh fuck, love. Cum please.”
Your toes curled, one the surefire signs you were cumming. “Fuck….”, you hissed before digging and running your nails down his back. “Cumming now, Joe.”
“That’s right, love. That’s so fucking sexy.”
He felt the walls of your cunt tighten around his cock, drowning him in your juices. You whined, the tension that had built up finally breaking loose. He slowed his thrusts, allowing you to ride out your orgasm only intensifying it in the process. You cried out, going slack against him as he continued to fuck himself into you.
He bent down and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Amazing, love.”
Your body began to feel relaxed as you began to come down from your high, the sensitivity of him being inside you causing you to writhe.
“I’m gonna cum.”, he warned as he looked into your hazy eyes.
“Cum, Joe. Cum deep inside of me.”, you begged.
You knew it was the lust talking. If you had been thinking rationally, you would have thought about the fact you were no longer on birth control. You would have realized the possibility of becoming pregnant. But right now, you didn't care.
“Oh—love, here it comes.”, he warned.
He went stiff, hips stuttering as you felt his cock pump his seed deep inside you. The warm cum filled your cunt as he allowed himself to ride the high of his orgasm. Your eyes rolled back as he held himself steady, fingertips sinking into your ass. He was gonna keep himself buried deep inside of you, making sure he was finished cumming. Your chest was heaving, knees trembling. The adrenaline high was still there.
Without warning, he easily pulled out, eliciting a whimper from you at the loss of contact.
“How—was—that?”, he breathed as he fell beside you.
“Good—really good.”
“Just good?”, he seemed offended slightly.
“I don’t want to boost your ego too much.”, you smirked at him.
He rolled his eyes before pulling you over close to him, beginning to slowly kiss your neck. In between kisses he was sucking on your neck, desperate to leave his mark on you. Your leg wrapped around his, giving into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, gripping his shoulders. He wasn’t done with you yet.
“What are—you doing?”, you sighed between kisses.
“I’m not gonna stop until you tell me this was amazing, earth-shattering sex.”, he chuckled.
You sighed into him, feeling his cock becoming hard again. It was digging into your thigh as he sucked on your neck. He was needy, desperate to be inside you again. He hungered for you, only you.
“Joe….”
“Yes, love?”, he spoke against you, teeth sunk in the soft delicate skin of your neck.
“Fuck.”
As his teeth let go, you felt a stinging sensation in your neck. He had done it, you knew he had.
“Mhm, now you’re mine.”, he chuckled, admiring his work by rubbing over the hickey and causing it to throb.
He was being cheeky and if the truth was being told, you loved it. You loved when he playfully teased you. You could handle this Dr. Quinn a lot better than the one at work who was uptight, grumpy, and a dick.
“I have an idea.”, he spoke suddenly, beginning to kiss your neck again.
You twisted your arm to be able to cup his chin, running your hand through his hair. “Hm?”
It was clear that he was still pussy drunk, you were cock drunk.
“Why don’t you let me take you from behind?”
Your stomach twisted at his words, moaning slightly into his touch. “And why should I?”
“Mhm, you’ve been a bad girl. Need to be punished—and reminded who is your boss.”, he gave your breast a squeeze causing you to moan.
He leaned up, shifting in the bed. “So why don’t you be a good little girl and get face down, ass up?”
His brown eyes had a fire in them as they stared deeply into yours. Your stomach was knotting up at the thought of him doing you from behind. You leaned up, lips crashing into his. His hand brushed over your cheek, catching a handful of your hair. Every kiss with him was like magic, finally finding something you had lost.
“I’m—not gonna be so—soft.”, he moaned easily through kisses.
“Okay—fair.”
You broke the kiss unexpectedly, causing him to wear a confused expression in return. You smirked easily as you shifted in bed, giving him a cheeky smile before grabbing the pillow at the head of the bed and cuddling it before wiggling around. You nestled down into the bed, sighing as you did just as he asked—face down, ass up.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy. I swear.”, he groaned as his thick hands found your hips, sinking his fingertips in them causing your breathing to hitch and a small moan to escape.
“Tsk—tsk. So hard to work together when I have such a naughty, hard to please nurse.”
If he wasn’t going to fuck your brains out, you would have fought with him then and there. You felt his hands slide down from your hips down to your ass before squeezing it. You moaned out, gripping your pillow tight and preparing yourself for the onslaught of sex he was about to give you. He chuckled devilishly, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.
“I’m already so hard for you.”, he breathed as he leaned down to place a kiss on the small of your back.
“Yeah?”, you turned your head, gripping the pillow.
“Mhm, yeah. Can’t wait to be deep inside you and remind you who’s your boss.”
“What are you waiting—for then?”, you breathed.
“Someone’s ready for my cock to be buried deep into their cunt, hm?”, he teased, feeling his breath on your back.
“Yes.”
He chuckled easily while rubbing your hips, positioning himself to enter you. His cock brushed against your puffy, aching entrance. Yes? Were you really giving in to him? He was surprised that you admitted it so easily. He had been so used to you giving him a hard time, fighting against him.
“Fuck—still so wet.”, he inhaled sharply.
“Just came—can’t help it.”, you breathed.
“No—it’s a great thing.”, he reassured you.
You didn’t get a chance to respond before you felt him slip deep inside you, causing you to moan and grip the pillow so tight your knuckles turned white. This time, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust. Your eyes were wide, and it felt like he was splitting you wide open. You knew it was the fact that he was getting more leverage, able to go deeper inside you.
“Feeling okay, love?”
His question was almost half concerned, half taunting.
“Fi—ne.”
He chuckled, beginning to move inside you. He groaned as his rhythm picked up, sinking his fingers in the plush of your ass.
“Shouldn’t you—be perfecting your speech?”
“You want me to?”
You felt him slide himself all the way out of you, shocking you. You whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact.
“Joe…”, the plead in your voice was pathetic.
“What? I mean—you’re right. I should be perfecting my speech.”
“I didn’t—mean it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Sorry—I’m sorry.”
“You’re what?”, Joe grabbed your hips.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t hear you.”, his voice taunted.
You closed your eyes, knowing damn well he could hear you.
“I said—I’m sorry.”, you finally spoke up.
“One more time—sorry my doctor ears must not be able to hear very well.”
“I said—I’m sorry.”, you clenched your teeth, rolling your eyes and showing off that sass he talked so much about.
“Ah, okay. I guess I could accept your apology, nurse Y/N.”, he chuckled with arrogance and ease.
You rolled your eyes, a smile spreading across your face as he teased your entrance again. You felt your chest rise, a sharp inhale. He loved watching you fall apart under his touch. But little did you know, he would be there to pick up the pieces. Even it was just for the night. You couldn’t imagine how dumb this decision was—to sleep with your ex fiancé and have sex with him not once—but multiple times.
“You do?”
“Mhm, I do.”, he smirked as he slipped himself back inside of you causing you to moan loudly enough to fill the entire hotel room. “And that sound makes it so worth it.”
“I hate—you.”, you glared back at him.
“Do you? You have a bad way of showing it.”, his finger sank into your hips as he picked up his rhythm.
“Fu—ck!”
He chuckled, watching you come undone. His hands moved up and down your body in perfect rhythm while he fucked you out. It was as if all the tension and frustration from before was finally coming to a head. You were making up for lost time, for all those times you both were pissed at one another.
You heard his grunts as he rutted himself into you. “Like that?”
“Love—it.”, you moaned honestly.
Your sexual desire was overtaking you. It had been a long time since you’d been fucked. Months—almost a year. A lot of the sex you had was trying to forget him. Like near holidays or his birthday. You weren’t proud to admit it, but it was the truth. And no one you seem to fucked could compare to him. They weren’t him. It was that simple. The news of other doctors liking you was no surprise, but you had no interest in them.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”, he groaned.
In the back of your mind, you knew there was no way he had abstained from sexual activity. You were sure there were countless women he had fucked since you. Your brain immediately tried to send the thought away.
“Joe….”, your mouth was becoming dry.
There was no doubt he was an attentive lover during sex, always asking if you were okay and praising you—making you feel good.
“Yes? Ready to cum?”, his hands found your ass, squeezing the globes of your ass in his thick, broad hands eliciting a moan from you.
“Ye—ah.”
“Hm,”, he hummed in satisfaction. “Cum for me. Cum all over my fucking cock.”
The closer you came to a release, the dirtier his talk became. He was an educated man inside of the hospital, using proper medical terminology. But here in the bedroom, he was sexually charged with desire and lust.
“Fuck, Joe.”, you hissed through a moan as his speed picked up lightly, the sound of his balls smacking against your ass filling the room.
As badly as you hated to admit it, he knew your body better than anyone. He knew exactly what he needed to do to get you across the finish line.
“What, love? Ready to cum for me?”
You nodded breathlessly, gripping the pillow for dear life as if it would provide you any tangible support.
“Answer my question.”, he grunted as he rubbed your ass.
You knew what would follow.
Your brain and mouth weren’t doing a very good job coordinating, failing you at this very moment. Joe rarely saw you at a loss for words, but here you were.
“Are you gonna answer me, love?”
“Try—ing.”, you squeaked.
“Not hard enough.”, he teased back.
That was the last thing you heard before he drew his hand back, feeling it make contact with your ass and causing you to jump slightly, jarring his cock inside of you.
“Easy, love.”, he chuckled. “Don’t wanna hurt this pretty cunt of yours. Would love to go again tonight.”
“What was that—for?”, you choked out.
“Just reminding you of who’s your boss, here.”
You groaned while rolling your eyes, settling back down into the bed and making it a point to wiggle your ass at him. It was dangling a piece of meat on a string to a starving animal. But it also felt so good with his cock inside of you, him never losing his hard-on or accidentally slipping out of you.
“You love to hold it over me—don’t you?”
“What’s that?”
“The fact I answer to you.”
“Maybe, you’re the only one who puts up a fight with me. Never meek like you used to be. Kinda turns me on if I’m being honest—hearing your sassy little mouth in the middle of the night.”
You felt your stomach do a flip. He was referring to when you first became licensed as a registered nurse. You preferred not look back at those days, only looking forward.
“Do you want me to cum or not?”, you hissed.
“Oh fuck, do I? It’s all I’ve wanted.”
He went back to that rhythm, the one he knew would make you cum within minutes. He wasn’t going to be mischievous anymore—not this time.
“Tell me more.”, you breathed.
“About what?”
“Me…what turns you on about me.”, you breathed.
“Um, well…”, he began. “For starters, it’s super sexy when you already know what I want when I get there—you’ve already got things ready for me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah—makes me want to take you to an on call room and fuck you…after we stabilize the kid, of course.”
“Of course.”, you hummed in agreement.
“Just didn’t think you’d be up for it. So, I always go back home and jerk off in bed under my silk sheets.”
Your breathing hitched. “You never asked.”
He moaned lightly before resolving to a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pain had long melted into pleasure, your stomach knotting up. It always seemed like the second time you released was easier, and faster than the first. But Joe knew what he was doing, especially when it came to you.
“Tell—me—more.”, you pleaded through a moan, the sound of sex filling the room.
“Okay,”, he swallowed, hands roaming your body. “I find it really sexy when I watch you interact with kids—like the one who was scared to go to surgery for his appendix last week. You gave him one of the little blue teddy bears and reassured him. He hugged you, I imagined what you would have been like as a mother. If we had stayed together.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach at his admission. “You did?”
“Yeah, made me want kids again.”, he groaned as he hit the spot that made you forget your name.
Your thoughts went out the window, brain now focused on your sexual release. You dropped the subject entirely, moaning as you gripped the pillow tighter.
“Joe…..”
“Yes?”
“Gonna cum—like right now—can’t wait.”, you moaned out as you closed your eyes.
“Mhmm, cum for me. Want me to fill your cunt full again?”, he groaned as he became flush with your body, placing a lazy kiss on your shoulder.
“Fu—ck. Oh my God.”, you hissed.
You felt your cunt tighten around his cock, juices washing over his cock. He was barely moving inside of you now, giving you a chance to ride out your orgasm. His slight movements inside of you intensified your orgasm, your eyes rolling back in your head. This was the earth-shattering sex he was talking about, the one you had missed. Even when you had slept with someone else, it wasn’t as good. No one compared to him and they never would.
“That’s it, love. Feels so good on my cock.”
Your legs began to shake, feeling the aftershock of your orgasm coursing through your body.
“God, I missed your cunt.”
“That all you missed?”, you moaned into your pillow lightly, brushing your hair out of your face.
“No.”, he kissed your shoulder again, pausing his movement.
“Whatever.”, you smirked easily. “Are you gonna cum or not?”
“I want to.”, he chuckled. “But you never answered my question.”
“Which one?”, you sighed, beginning to come down off your high as you snuggled into your pillow.
“If you want me to cum inside of you or pull out.”
“Just cum in me. You already have.”
“Okay. Are you sure?”, he breathed as he began tp pick his rhythm back up, gripping your hips and pulling you back to him slightly causing you to squeal lightly.
“Mhmm, don’t ask again—I might change my mind.”
You snuggled into your pillow, eyes beginning to become hazy. It felt like you were floating, but you weren’t complaining. His hands wandered to your ass, squeezing it and making you moan even if he had already taken care of you.
“I love to see you all fucked out.”
“Yeah?”, you hummed, chills cascading down your body at his choice of words.
“Mhm, it was always my favorite thing.”
“Thought you said you wanted to go again.”
“We don’t have to right after this.”
You nodded easily, letting him have his way with you. You wanted him to cum—you wanted to feel his hot, sticky release. It was even better when it was running down your thighs.
“Fuck—I’m gonna cum.”, he hissed.
“Cum, Joe. Fill me full, please.”, you begged, helping him cross the finish line this time.
That was all he needed to hear. You felt his hips stutter as he sank his fingertips into your hips, a loud groan escaping him as he warned you of his release just seconds before you felt his cock pumping his seed deep inside of you. The warmness flooded through your cunt, causing a smile to spread across your face. He was trying to catch his breath, holding himself steady as he made sure that none was wasted. Not that he was trying to get you pregnant, he wasn’t. But for right now, the thought wasn’t such a bad idea. It made him feel like he had a purpose for staying in you so long.
A sigh escaped you, finally feeling relaxed that you both had a release. Half of you was debating asking him to stay inside you and cuddling you. It wasn’t such a bad idea, plus you needed a little aftercare, right?
“Ready for me to pull out?”, he asked, bringing you out of your fantasy.
“Yeah, just please be easy.”
“Oh I will, love.”
With that, you braced yourself by tightening your grip on your pillow. He eased himself out of you, leaving his seed buried deep inside. You whimpered at the loss of contact, causing him to rub your shoulder easily and give it another gentle kiss. He laid in bed beside of you, pulling you towards him. He pulled the sheet up and over you.
“Want to cuddle and go to sleep?”
“Oh, we can’t cuddle.”, you were beginning to come to your senses and out of your cock drunken state.
“Why not?”
“Because.”, you sat up easily, feeling some of his release run down your thigh. “We just can’t.”
“Relax, it’s just aftercare. You always liked when I cuddled you after sex.”
“When we were together.”, you corrected, grabbing an extra plush pillow from behind you and placing it inbetween you both.
“Oh come on, Y/N.”, he groaned. “Not the pillow divider.”
You glared at him. “Yes, the pillow divider.”
“I just came inside of you.”, he breathed, running through his curls. “Is cuddling really the worst thing we could do?”
“Joe.”
“Come on, I just want to show you I’m not always a dick.”
“No. Now, let’s just go to sleep, please.”, you rolled your eyes, pulling the sheet over you and turning away from him before grabbing the lamp.
You heard him sigh from the other side of the bed. You instantly felt regret swelling up in your chest. There have been a lot of mistakes you made in life, but this was a huge one.
“You’re just sexually frustrated.”, he spoke up, turning over in bed.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”, he began, resting his hand on the pillow divider. You felt his warm breath hit your neck, knowing he was only inches from you.
All that was separating you was a plush pillow.
“I’m not sexually frustrated.”
“Really?”, he teased, his hand moving from the pillow and finding your waist causing you to swallow hard.
You hated him. You hated him so much.
“Really.”, you choked out.
“How long had it been before tonight?”
“None of your business.”, you rolled your eyes.
“Well, judging by how tight you were—it’s been a while. You’re busy, right? A night shift pediatric nurse. Working long hours and a lot of overtime. You’ve not been able to move on from me, have you?”
“Fuck you.”
“You already did, love.”, he smirked as he chuckled.
Man, was he testing your patience. You didn’t respond to his snide comment, thinking maybe if you ignored him, he’d give up and leave you alone.
“You know what always made you relax?”
“What?”, you groaned.
He smirked as he tossed the pillow to the side, breaking the barrier between you both. Your eyes went wide as you flipped over to face him.
“Joe, what the fuck?”
“I’m jogging your memory.”, he smirked as he pulled the sheet up, dipping his head underneath. “Can you lay flat?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”, you asked as you subconsciously carried out his request.
“What does it look like I’m gonna do?”
“No, no—no way you’re doing what I think you’re gonna do.”
“Just relax.”
You felt his fingers grip your thighs, spreading them apart. He began placing innocent kisses on your thigh and you knew what he was planning.
“You’re not going to eat me out, are you?”
You felt his tongue take a swipe up your thigh, licking the release that had ran down your thighs while shifting in bed. “Looks like I am, unless you don’t want me to.”
Goosebumps appeared all over your skin at the sensation of his tongue, imagining what it could do—what it was about to do. It was like he was waiting for you to protest or tell him to stop. But you weren’t going to, no matter what your head was telling you—no matter that it was telling you how wrong this was. Your breathing hitched as you felt him begin to place gentle kisses on your thighs.
“Want me to at least pull the sheet down?”, you sighed, hands traveling to find his curls.
“Up to you.”, he breathed through kisses that were inching their way up your thighs to your cunt.
You groaned at his decision to leave it up to you as he placed your ankles on his shoulders. He parted your thighs further, dipping his head between your legs. You braced yourself because you knew what was coming, what was going to follow.
“Can you breathe?”, you rolled your eyes, fluttering them shut.
“Of course I can breathe. Now, just relax, and let me remind you how I can relieve your stress.”
“You just came inside of me, though. Is that okay?”
“Yes, now relax.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”, he repeated as you felt his breath on your cunt before his tongue took a long swipe up your wet fold.
He was immediately met with the familiar taste of you mixed with him. It drove him crazy, he loved it—he loved knowing he had come inside of you. It was just one more way he marked you. You moaned lightly as you ran your hands through his curls.
“See? You’re already loving it.”, he breathed against you.
Whether or not you would ever admit it out loud, you had imagined Joe going down on you before. Even after you both started working together again. It was a thought you had some nights as you laid in bed, your own hand between your thighs as you took care of yourself. It was pathetic, but you needed something. You had imagined Joe having his head buried between your legs, dragging his tongue up and down your slick folds. Now, it was becoming a reality.
It was worse when he had shaved his beard at first, leaving his baby face showing. It reminded you of when he was only a resident. He knew you hated it when he shaved his beard completely off. Unless he had forgotten. You wondered if part of him had done it out of spite. But then not long after, he was letting his beard come back and that made your fantasies even worse, spiraling them out of control. You loved the feeling of his stubble between your legs. You wore his beard burn like a badge of honor.
Without warning, his tongue took another swipe between your wet slit. Your back arched instantly at the sensation, letting out a moan to let him know you were enjoying this. Instinctively, you parted your legs as far apart as they’d go, allowing him full access to you. You eyed him, resting your head on the pillows at the head of the bed. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible while he fucked you with his tongue.
“Like my tongue, love?”
“Shut up, Joe.”
His tongue entered you without warning causing you to jolt, almost jumping out of your skin. It was unexpected, but you knew this was punishment for your sass. You gripped his curls, giving them a tug and causing him to groan against your cunt. But it felt good and that was the bad part.
“Fuck—we taste so good.”
You just knew he had a smug grin.
“We?”
His tongue swirled in and out of your cunt, teasing you. “Mhmmm.”
“Such a naughty little nurse”, he cooed as he moved his mouth back to your folds, flicking his tongue over your folds.
Your eyes rolled back in your head easily. Joseph took his hands, moving your legs up to his shoulders, allowing him more leverage. It was hot. So very hot. Your hands continued to grip his curls with each flick and swipe of his tongue, you not being able to hold back your feral moans.
“Fuck Joe—dammit.”
“What? Feeling good, love?”
“No.”, you stammered.
You were never a good liar.
“I’ll just have to try harder then.”
You rolled your eyes this time from frustration. In your head, you were so focused on cumming that your brain wasn’t registering the sensation on your thighs from his beard. The stubble burning, rubbing against your thighs. A hiss escaped your lips before moaning, a sign you were in fact, enjoying his tongue buried deep in your cunt.
Holding your breath, you waited for a smart remark. But it never came, he was too focused on making you orgasm all over his tongue, dying to taste your sweet release. He had been deprived of it for so long.
After he was finished tasting the mix of both your releases, he popped his head out from under the sheet to look at you, admire the work he had done. Your chest was heaving, eyes fluttered shut. You had moved your hands from his curls to the sheets, still clearly reeling from your orgasm. Joe wore a smirk on his face, looking up at you. Even in the minimal light, you could see the glisten of your juices on his chin as he licked his lips.
“See? Told you I could jog your memory.”
You didn’t respond at first, still trying to come down from your high.
“Felt good, didn’t it?”
“Yeah.”, you finally breathed.
Joe fell beside you in bed, taking a deep breath before releasing a sigh. “Gonna build your pillow wall again?”
You glared at him.
“Just asking. I mean, are you gonna let me cuddle you and give you some aftercare or not?”
“No. Just stay on your side of the bed and I’ll stay on mine. Can we do that?”, you asked as you grabbed the sheet and comforter and pulled them up and over you.
“Not even a goodnight kiss?”, he pouted playfully. “So you could at least taste how good we are?”
You rolled your eyes. “Couples give goodnight kisses. Not exes who decided to fuck. Now, go to sleep.”
You finally found the strength to turn over in bed, away from him.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”, he sighed as he turned the opposite way, snuggling down into his pillow.
You weren’t sure how it happened when you blinked your eyes open hours later. For the first time in a long time, you had managed to sleep through the night. Coming to your senses while yawning, you felt two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards them. There was also the sensation of something poking you in the ass. Your eyes widened as you shot up in a panic while wrapping the sheet around you to cover your breasts, coming to the realization of what had happened last night.
“Oh shit.”
Joe was slowly waking up, unlike you. “Is everything okay?”, he rubbed his eyes, sitting up with you.
“We had sex. Last night.”
Joe’s lips curved into a smirk. “Multiple times.”
You glared at him.
“I’m just stating facts, love. It was good—for the both of us.”
You rolled your eyes. “And you were cuddling me this morning. Didn’t I say specifically not to cuddle me?”
Joe shrugged easily, his sexy voice still apparent. “I can’t help what I did after you woke me up this morning around three.”
“What did we do around three?”
“Oh.”, he smirked. “We had sex again. You initiated it, rubbing your ass against my cock and begging me saying, ‘Please fuck me, Joe’, remember?”
“No, I definitely don’t.”, you laughed nervously.
There was a moment of silence between you both but this allowed your brain to begin remembering exactly what he was referring to, realizing you had indeed initiated sex with him again.
“Is it coming back to you, love?”
“Joe, please just stop. We can’t do this.”, you jumped out of bed, giving him a chance to admire your naked body, already making him hard again.
He groaned as he palmed the bulge under the sheets, trying to make his hard-on go away but he was filling miserably.
“Why not? It was great sex—amazing sex. We both liked it, both enjoyed it. It was relaxing for the both of us.”
“Because we work together.”, you sighed.
“So? Never stopped us before.”
You turned to look at him, a soft glare in your eyes. It was hard to be mad at him. But you had managed to be mad at him before—for a long time.
“Isn’t tonight the night you find out if you won or not?”
Joe nodded before sighing. “Yeah.”
“Are you nervous?”
Joe watched you as you got up, letting the sheet fall. You could feel his eyes on you, admiring your naked body. What would it hurt now? He had seen everything you had through the night. Plus, you all had been engaged before. It wasn’t like a huge secret.
“Kinda.”, he breathed, running a hand through his curls. “This is a big deal.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Can we not do this right now?”
“Do what?”
“Argue. I need you to be on my side—be on my team, please. Can you do that?”, he asked as he grabbed your arm easily in an attempt to get your attention.
You stared at him, looking into his pleading brown eyes. “It would have been easier had I been your fiancé still.”
He sighed, rubbing his face. His beard needed a little trimming but you didn’t prefer him to be clean shaven. “I know.”
You could have said no when he asked you to accompany him. But something inside of you didn’t want to refuse. Somewhere, you had feelings rooted. Even if you didn’t want to admit it.
“How about we go sightseeing or something? Grab some breakfast?”, you suggested, clearing your throat as you slid a t-shirt on and some jeans.
The weather in Baltimore was much different than the weather in Portland. It was near fall and you were thankful you had packed a thick winter coat. Joe had packed a peacoat, never straying far from his Londoner roots. His parents continued to live in London and mysteriously, you didn’t learn a lot about them even while you all were in a relationship—even being engaged. He left his mom and dad out of things. You had went to London with him on a few occasions.
“Okay.”, he breathed as he got out of bed and you bit your lip, trying to ignore his physique.
He wasn’t ashamed of his body, not even bothering wrapping the comforter around him. He was standing in the room with his bare ass showing. You felt your breath catch in your throat, trying to direct your attention elsewhere as he slid his jeans and boxers back on.
“Hey,”, he began easily. “Wanna run by the pharmacy while we’re out?”
“And get what? A little late for condoms.”, you smirked as you fixed your hair in the mirror.
You’d need a good hot shower before the gala. Part of you was nervous, never doing these kinds of things with Joe before. You didn’t know if you would fit in with the affluent hospital crowd. These were doctors who had done a lot of research and written in medical journals. Where did you belong in this mess?
“Plan B.”, he breathed easily as he threw his baseball cap on.
“Oh.”, you widened your eyes, slightly surprised he’d bring that up.
He had a point though, you weren’t on birth control and you all didn’t use any condoms. Things just happened so fast. Part of it still hurt, however, because there had been many discussions while you all were still together about your future children.
He watched you for a response.
“Yeah, that’s great.”
He nodded before grabbing his wallet and stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. “I’ll pay for it.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“No, I insist, love.”
You both paused, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Joe, you don’t have to do this shit for me.”
“I know. I just—it just takes two to tango, you know.”
You nodded. “Right.”
He grabbed the doorknob of the hotel room door, opening it and revealing the hallway. “We could always buy condoms if you plan on more sex. Maybe celebratory sex tonight?”, he smirked.
You rolled your eyes, trying to shift from the hurt back to playfulness. “We’ll see. You actually have to win first.”
You all wasted no time in exploring the city, quick to find a small diner for breakfast. It was quiet, off the beaten path. Joe chose to read the newspaper while drinking coffee. They had tea, but unless it was close to what they had back home, he wasn’t a big fan. You ordered an omelet with a side of hash browns and fruit, taking a sip of your orange juice.
“Who knew Baltimore had such a high crime rate?”, Joe asked, sipping his coffee.
“Not surprising.”, you stirred in your hash browns, smothering them in ketchup before taking a bite.
“I’d say their ERs are swarmed every night—gunshot wounds, mugging, car accidents.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
Joe opted for eggs, bacon, and a waffle. There was a lot of silence between you both as you both quietly ate your breakfast. You were chalking a lot of Joe’s silence up to being nervous about his speech and potentially winning the Lasker award. You did a lot of people-watching while you both were in the diner, anything to distract your attention from him. You didn’t want him to know he had as much power as he had over you.
You all finished breakfast, going around the city. Joe liked to sight see in new places. Even while you both were together, you all took a lot of trips. Joe also took a lot of pictures, pulling his iPhone out and snapping pictures while you all toured the city. The last stop was the pharmacy, Joe bedside you. You went to the family planning aisle, immediately finding the Plan B pill.
“Why do they lock this shit up?”, you groaned as you grabbed it from the shelf, noticing its near fifty-dollar price tag.
“I assume women steal it. If you’re stealing Plan B, you probably shouldn’t be having sex.”, Joe shrugged easily as you immediately began your walk to the cash register, him trailing close behind.
You rolled your eyes. “Some people make mistakes, you know.”
“Is this all for you?”, the woman at the register asked.
You could read on the woman’s face that she knew you all had sex. It felt like the entire world knew at this point.
“Yeah, how much is it?”, you asked.
“52.95 with tax and all.”
You went to dig through your purse bit before you even had a chance to finish looking, Joe had already pulled out his debit card and paid for it. You glared at him, watching him shoot a cheeky smile at you before he grabbed the bag and receipt, shoving the receipt in the bag. Exiting the pharmacy, Joe held onto your bag. It wasn’t surprising as seeing this was the man who didn’t care to go buy your pads or tampons when you were having your period.
It was always comfortable with him, never feeling shamed for being a woman and having womanly functions.
“Want me to carry that?”, you asked as you all walked down the street.
Joe had lit up a cigarette, a habit he wished he could break—and he had tried. “No, I’ve got it.”
“You know smoking is bad for you.”, you teased. “Coming from a nurse.”
He smirked before releasing a light chuckle, taking a draw from his cigarette. “We all have to cope in some way, don’t we?”
You shrugged. “I guess so.”
Arriving back at the hotel, you fell on the bed that you all had made a mess of. It was an instant reminder of the events that had transpired between you both. You were already exhausted and you still had to attend the gala with Joseph.
“I’m gonna shower first if that’s alright. Unless you want to join me.”, Joe cocked his eyebrows seductively.
Part of you wanted to take him up on his offer, eager to feel him again. But you knew that would just prove his point further.
“I’m sure you don’t want to smell like my girly body wash and perfume.”, you smirked back at him.
He smirked, undoing his jeans in front of you. He stepped out of them easily, folding them before laying them on the back of the chair near the desk. You felt your heart skip a beat, swallowing hard. Joe noticed but you didn’t want to believe he had.
“It would be worth it to stick my cock in your cunt.”
His words sent chills cascading down your body, your breathing instantly hitching.
“Can’t use condoms in the shower.”
“Ah, we’ve got your Plan B pill. What’s one more time before you take it? You still have roughly fifty hours.”
You sat up, mouth dropping open before you began laughing. “Aren’t you a doctor? The sooner you take it, the better.”
“True.”, he agreed. “We could take our chances.”
“Do you know how dumb you sound right now? Like a lovesick teenage boy who is horny.”
He laughed lightly while he stripped his shirts, leaving him only in his boxers. “I mean after the amazing sex we had last night, it’s hard not to be. If you want to say no, you can. It’s your choice. There’s some bottled water in the fridge to take your pill with. I’m really just kidding.”
You bit your lip, your common sense leaving you. “I’ll shower with you.”
“Sorry, love. What was that?”
“I said—I’ll shower with you.”
“Yeah?”, he smirked. “Need another dose? It’s just what the doctor ordered, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God. You’re unbearable.”, you laughed, elbowing him. “Shut up before I change my mind.”
You all had subconsciously got closer, looking into one another’s eyes. Locking eye contact just seconds before your lips crashed into one another, him backing you up against the wall. You moaned into his mouth easily as he reached for your jeans, once again undoing them. It was almost a repeat from the night before. It hadn’t taken him long to memorize how to get your clothes off in a hurry. Within a minute, you were down to your bra and panties.
“Don’t you feel like a dirty girl?”, he hummed, sticking his fingers down your panties.
“Yeah, I do.”, you admitted with a sigh.
“We’re gonna get all cleaned up. Promise.”, he breathed against your skin, kissing your neck.
“Mhm, can’t wait.”, you took in a sharp inhale as he pulled your jeans and panties down to the floor.
He tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you only wearing a bra. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your back, carefully undoing your bra and allowing it to fall to the floor. It was clear this wasn’t his first time undoing a bra from the front. He was skilled in undressing and for a brief moment you wondered how many other women he had done this to, but the thought was quickly interrupted by him kissing you, sending you into oblivion.
“Ready—for—the shower?”, he breathed between kisses.
All you could do was nod in response.
He picked you up again causing you to squeal in his mouth, shushing it with a kiss. His fingers squeezed your ass causing you to moan into the kiss. He had missed feeling your body, it was a work of art in his eyes. He had already managed to turn the water on, warming it up for you both. He had left the bathroom door open, the steam rolling out. He easily shut the door with his foot, setting you down on the floor and allowing you to gain your balance before pulling away.
As he opened the shower door, you were biting your lip and admiring his physique. How had your mind been changed from just this morning—seeming to regret the decision you had made to sleep with him. He motioned for you to enter the shower first, reaching his hand out for you. You grabbed it, allowing him to pull you towards him. He placed several kisses on your neck causing shivers to cascade down your spine, allowing you to sigh into him.
“You get in first.”, he breathed.
“Okay.”
He helped you inside the shower, following close behind. So close you could feel his cock pressing against your ass. Your eyes fluttered shut, biting your lip while imagining what it would feel like for him to be inside of you again. Was it smart to not use condoms? No, but the feeling of him without one was something you couldn’t put into words. Maybe it was just you being cock drunk, but you couldn’t help it. You’d never tell him but he was an amazing lover, always trying to please you.
The hot water rushing over your skin brought you of your thoughts as Joe grabbed your waist from behind, bringing you flush against him. He began kissing your neck, hands roaming over your breasts before giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck—you’re so sexy.”, he breathed, water dripping off his curls and onto your shoulders while running down your body.
“You cuss a lot around me.”, you smirked easily, leaning back against him.
“Can’t help it—need inside of you.”
“You’ll get to be soon.”, you sighed, allowing him to kiss all over your neck.
“I know and I can’t wait.”, he hummed, hands finding your breasts before giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan loudly.
You hummed in agreement, letting his hands roam your body. They were thick and broad, feeling you up. He wasn’t gross like most guys were when they were touching your body. He made it all about you, giving you small compliments about how sexy and beautiful your were, how much he wanted you, and things that just made you feel good.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The room was thick with steam that poured from the shower. Your pulse quipped and your mouth was dry. You could feel his cock digging into you.
“Remember when we’d have shower sex when I came off a nineteen hour shift?”
Your breathing hitched. “Fuck—yeah, I do.”
“It was such good sex—then we passed out in bed.”, he chuckled.
“Mhm.”, you hummed, chills covering your body.
You remembered it well. Those days felt like so long ago even if they weren’t. Ever since Joe had left for Seattle, time seemed to pass slowly. It was hard to live without him at first—even calling out of work for a few days to mentally and emotionally try to get a grip on life. The sun didn’t rise and set in him, you knew that. But he had been a huge part of your life. It was hard to know he was gone.
After he left, you learned to live without him—even feeling like you hated him some days. You hated him for making you love him. You hated him for leaving. You hated him for making you wake up alone. You hated him for choosing his career over you. You hated him for making you have to learn to live without him. But yet, here you were—having shower sex with him.
Without warning, he spun you around in one quick motion making you face him in the shower, water dripping off your faces. Joe moved his hand to the back of your neck, tilting your head up to give you a warm kiss. You thought about the power those hands held. He was a doctor, skilled with his hands. You lost your words when it came to him, he still had that power over you. He knew what you wanted and he wasn’t going to make you wait long.
He picked up your thighs, bringing them to circle around his waist as he pushed you against the wall of the shower for support. Your all’s shower was long forgotten, for the time being, something better in place of it. Joe wasted no time in slipping inside of you, his thick cock filling you and splitting you open in ways you couldn’t describe. A small moan escaped your lips, Joe releasing a grunt from the back of his throat. He was working soft strokes into you. If he was holding you, you were sure your legs would have given out by now.
“Can we both admit we missed this?”, he grunted before you both shared a soft kiss.
You scoffed playfully as he rutted himself further into you. “As if.”
“I know you missed me when I left for Portland.”
“What—does it matter?”, you moaned back.
“Because—I missed you too. If I’m being honest. There—wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you.”, he grunted.
“Don’t—lie. Please don’t lie, Joe.”, you begged, swallowing hard.
“I’m not lying. I debated calling you every day. I—typed texts I never had the courage to send.”
“Can we please—not talk about this right now while—you’re inside of me?”, you hiccuped.
“Fine—I won’t,”, he began as he continued to steadily fuck you. “Maybe after I win?”
There it was—his cockiness was back and in full force. It was hard to ignore, making you want to roll your eyes. But there wasn’t much else you could focus on other than him fucking himself into you. You felt your heart melt a little more.
You let out a whine and nodded your head. “If you win.”
Joe smirked as he sank his fingertips into your thighs, knowing he was going to leave marks. But you loved it—secretly, you loved anything he did. You felt your lower half tense, Joe continuing to help you towards your orgasm. You could feel every inch, vein, and tweak of his cock—all helping to add to your sensations and sensitivity. Joe put his lops back to yours, your moans going straight down his throat. He wanted you so badly, he wanted to swallow every little sound or hiccup you made.
“Joe….”, you moaned into his mouth.
“Hm?”
“Gonna—cum—now.”, you moaned, the sound muffled as it filled his throat.
He didn’t beg or coerce you to cum, a slight surprise to you. But it wasn’t stopping the fact you were going to cum. Without further warning, you came. You juices spilled all over his cock, causing him to moan in response. Joe didn’t immediately follow, in fact his cock felt even harder than before.
“Fuck your cunt is gripping me so tight.”, he grunted, breaking the kiss.
Your body was still shaking, reeling from your orgasm and Joe seized the opportunity to start fucking you faster. His hands pulled you off his cock only to slam you back down on it, moving your body like it was nothing. Your body couldn’t stop shaking, your stomach twisting and aching but you knew you had more to give him. Your hands gripped his neck tighter, trying to hold onto his fast-moving body. He was fucking you so fast and so hard that you didn’t even have time to catch your breath. No need to when he would just take it again anyway.
You felt his cock twitch and you both knew he would cum soon and you couldn’t wait for him to fill you full. Even if you knew the risks associated with it. All that filled your ears were moans worthy of the big screen and whines coming from you. Joe’s moans and grunts added to the music you both were creating. The steam from the bathroom wasn’t helping you think straight. You were beginning to feel dizzy and disoriented. All you knew at the moment was that you needed Joe’s cum immediately.
“Please—Joe….”, your pleading was cut short with abrupt thrust. “Please give me your cum, please cum deep inside of me.”
“You want it? It’s all yours—all fuckin’ yours.”, Joe coos.
Within a second, you felt his warm cum deep inside of your cunt. His hips stuttered as he let out a long groan, almost matching the pace he was using to spill inside of you. You couldn’t help it, you followed him and came again—a loud whimper coming out. It was euphoric—more than either of you could have ever hoped or dreamed for.
“Really want to stop this? Go back to work like none of this happened?”, he breathed, chest heaving up and down.
“We don’t have time to talk about this right now, we have to get ready.”, you breathed, trying to compose yourself.
“Fine. But I’m gonna convince you before this trip is over.”, he smirked as he slipped out of you, some of his cum spilling out and mixing with the water.
“We’ll see.”, you smirked back as you both began to quickly shower.
________________________________________________________________________________
As you stood in your bra and panties, you looked in the mirror while making sure every part of your hair was perfect. You were wearing it up, a few loose curls out but it made it look more elegant—something you didn’t do often. The dress you had brought, ultimately didn’t make you happy for this event. Joe offered to get you a new dress, even remembering your size as he called a local formal shop. Even through many protests, Joe didn’t listen to you. You didn’t want him doing this for you, it was something you weren’t used to.
A knock came to the hotel room door.
“I’ll get it.”, Joe said easily.
You tried not to pay any attention to the conversation he had with whoever was delivering the dress. You put some finishing touches on your makeup, taking your mascara brush over your eyelashes one more time before spraying some make up setting spray. You heard the door close gently before hearing Joe’s footsteps grow closer.
“Here’s your dress—even if I do like seeing you in your bra and panties.”, he laughed lightly.
You didn’t immediately turn around to view him. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?”, he sighed. “You should be happy.”
You scoffed lightly before turning around. “You bought me a dress. Quit doing nice things for me, please. You’re making it harder to hate you.”
“Maybe that’s my intention—though I don’t think you hate me at all.”
You rolled your eyes. “Just show me the dress.”
He smirked as he unzipped the garment bag, revealing a black dress with crystals decorating the slender straps with mesh insets at the waist and a sultry side slit.
“Joe, it’s—”
“Don’t say it’s too much. Just please wear it—I insist.”
You glared at him. “I was going to say beautiful.”
“Oh.”, he chuckled softly. “Can we get you in it?”
"Yeah, we only have two hours to finish getting ready and to get to the venue.”, you looked back at him.
“Alright, turn around and I’ll get you into clothes instead of getting you out of clothes.”
You rolled your eyes before following his request. He took the dress out of the garment bag, instantly admiring how beautiful it was—just like you. He knew you were going to look amazing in it.
“Okay just step into this for me.”
You did before he slid it up your body, admiring how it fit perfectly around your curves as he fixed the straps on your shoulders, the crystals flickering in the light. He zipped the dress up, it finally taking full form on your body. Looking in the mirror, you could tell on his face that he loved the way it looked on you. You noticed him look you up and down in the mirror.
“God it fits you like a glove.”, Joe breathed.
“It does.”, you agreed. “Now, I need to put on my heels. Shit, and my earrings.”
You left him standing in front of the mirror as you walked over to grab the dangle earrings, putting them in your ears. Turning away from the mirror, you noticed him putting the finishing touches on his suit. He looked good—so good. You slid your heels on before grabbing your clutch, quickly slipping your morning-after pill inside. You’d take it after the awards. You knew it could cause severe nausea, cramping, and maybe even bleeding.
“Ready to go?”, you asked easily.
You could tell Joe was becoming nervous.
“Yeah.”, he began. “You look beautiful.”
He was deflecting, something he had learned to do very well while growing up. There were a lot of secrets you didn’t know about your ex-fiancé.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”, you joked softly.
He smiled, forgetting his problems for tonight. “Let’s go.”
“Lead the way.”
To your surprise, a limo showed up to chauffeur you and Joe to the gala. You all sat in silence on the ride there, being offered champagne to kill the nerves. You sipped yours slowly as did Joe, the silence lying between you both.
“Nervous?”, you asked easily.
“No.”, Joe lied, taking a sip of his champagne as he cleared his throat.
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I’m not lying.”, he defended. “I was maybe nervous when I took my USMLE to be a doctor….I’m not nervous now.”
He didn’t make eye contact with you as the ride continued, you nodding lightly even though you didn’t believe him even in the slightest. You all continued to sip your champagne until it was gone and you all arrived at the gala. The driver got out, opening the door for you both as you thanked him.
“Can we at least act like we like each other?”, he whispered.
“Are you going to admit I’m just one of your nurses?”
He rolled his eyes again. “You’re more than just one of my nurses—you’re my best nurse.”
“Whatever.”
“It’s true—you know what I like—how I like it. I’ve been hard on you lately. It’s not fair to you.”
“Joe please—can we not do this before your speech and stuff?”
“What are we telling people? I can call you my date and then if they ask your profession, tell them we met working together—which isn’t a lie.”
“Sure—tell them the truth.”, you agreed.
“Fine, we will. It’s not like I’m ashamed of you.”, Joe responded.
You both continued inside, classical music instantly filling your ears. The lights were down low, the noise of people chatting and glassware clinking joining the music. You swallowed hard and the nerves began to sit in and you weren’t even the one up for an award and delivering a speech. Joe nudged you easily in hopes you would link your arm with his and at least make it look like you enjoyed one another’s company. Glancing up at him, he stared ahead and didn’t bother glancing down at you.
“Dr. Joseph Quinn.”, a voice spoke, causing you both to turn around.
A hand was held out, Joe clearing his throat and taking it.
“Dr. Thomas Snider.”
“And who’s this beautiful woman on your arm?”, his eyes glanced over to you.
You and Joe eyed one another before Joe responded.
“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Can I call you that?”, he outstretched his hand.
“Yes, nice to meet you, Tom.”, you took his hand.
“Why don’t we all have a drink? It’s a big occasion—I heard you’re up for a Lasker award.”
Joe looked at you as he fixed his suit as if he was asking your permission. You nodded lightly as you both followed Tom over to the bar area. You sat beside Joe, laying your clutch on the table as you were careful to sit down in the chair in your dress. A waiter was quick to come over to the table and ask for your drink order. Tom asked what you all would have—Joe wanted a martini while you opted for a Cosmo. You listened to Joe and Tom’s conversation lightly while waiting for your drink. Maybe in an hour or two you could sneak off to the bathroom and slip your morning-after pill. You needed to take that. It had been almost over twenty-four hours at this point, nearing day two.
The sooner the better—that’s what their slogan was on the website and all healthcare professionals knew that to be true. It was either take the pill or leave it up to fate. But you didn’t exactly want to get pregnant with your ex-fiancé’s baby. That wasn’t on your bingo card and this was your best bet. It had a ninety-five percent effectiveness rate after twenty-four hours—eighty-five percent after forty-eight hours. But that was better than not taking it at all and hoping for the best. This wasn’t something you could hope for the best for—that often ended tragically as evidenced by your life.
“So how did you all meet?”
The question from Tom brought you back to reality.
“Um, we actually work together.”, Joe smirked over at you.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”, you agreed, looking back at Joe.
“What do you practice?”, he asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Like are you pediatrics, ortho, cardio?”
“I’m a nurse.”, you said bluntly.
“Ah, the doctor and nurse trope. Nice Joe.”, he elbowed Joe playfully, causing Joe to smirk lightly as he took a sip of his drink.
You glared at them both lightly, fire beginning to burn in your eyes.
“She’s a peds nurse. My best one.”, Joe smirked at you, laughter resolving as he noticed you didn’t think his joke was as funny as he did.
You felt your heart soaring in your chest, causing you to almost immediately perk up. But you quickly reminded yourself that he was just putting on a front. It was what he was best at doing. He was a smooth operator and only told people what they wanted to hear.
“I’m happy for you, Joe. Hold on to her or someone might snatch her away.”
Their cordial laughter ripped through your thoughts and you cleared your throat lightly. Your drink was almost gone but it wasn’t helping you.
“I’m gonna grab another drink.”, you responded lightly.
“Okay.”, Joe spoke up easily.
You gave him a half smile as you got up, abandoning the conversation. Wasting no time, you marched up the bar counter and ordered another Cosmo. You put your wallet on the bar, beginning to think about the Plan B pill that was inside of it. You couldn’t help but think about that as each second clicked off the clock, your timer was running out. You shook your head as the bartender slid your Cosmo to you, distracting you from your thoughts.
“Hello,”, you heard someone tap the microphone in an attempt to gain the audience’s attention.
You turned around in your bar seat.
“Thank you all for attending our annual award ceremony. Doctors and other medical professionals alike across the United States are nominated for the Lasker Award for their continued groundbreaking research in this field. We will be beginning in the auditorium shortly if you all want to go ahead and take your seats. Again, thank you all for coming.”
Chatter began to pick back up amongst the crowd. You swiped your drink from the bar, thanking the bartender before making your way back over to the table only to find Joe sitting there alone. He was checking his cell phone before he noticed you had made your way back over.
“Hey.”, he spoke softly.
“Hey. Your friend leave?”
He scoffed lightly before it turned into laughter. “Not exactly my friend. Just an old acquaintance.”
“He’s blunt.”
Joe nodded, already knowing he wouldn’t be your cup of tea. You weren’t used to that even if you were a nurse. The medical field brought along a lot of emotions. Joe remembered vividly being a resident and not being taken seriously. He always had to ask permission from his fellow and you never dared question an attending. Even though he had pushed the bill before when it came to the outcome for his patient. At first, he wasn’t respected for it—he was chastised for it. He had come to America for a fresh start. Meeting you was never in the cards and neither was leaving you. But he couldn’t think about that right now.
“Yeah.”, Joe began, sipping his drink. “Always has been. Don’t let it get under your skin.”
“That’s a little impossible.”
Joe laughed lightly. “I know.”
“Are you nervous?”, you attempted to change the subject.
“Kind of.”
“You’re gonna do fine. You always do. You have charm and charisma working out of your ears. It’s what a lot of women love about you.”
Joe’s brown eyes panned up to meet yours. “Funny. I can’t find any women who love that endearing quality.”
He was trying to make jokes, a soft smirk across his lips.
Rolling your eyes, you responded. “You just haven’t met the right one.”
“I did. And I fucked it up.”
You looked at him, confused. It was like time was in slow motion and you couldn’t wrap your head around what he had said. Was your brain tricking you?
“Dr. Quinn.”, a woman who was dressed very elegantly interrupted your all’s conversation. “They’re ready for you.”
He gave you a soft smile as he raised up from his chair, brushing his slacks. You eyed him, opening your mouth to speak but no words would come out. You wished you could have forced words of encouragement but what would you say back to something like that? He looked back at you as he walked away, following the woman who came to get him. You hurried and downed your Cosmo, leaving the empty glass and almost running towards the auditorium—except you had heels on and you couldn’t “run”.
#eddie x reader#joseph quinn imagine#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x y/n#eddie imagines#eddie munson imagine#joseph quinn x reader#eddie munson hc#eddie munson
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Right Now You're Feeling Helpless pt. 3
FINAL PART
~2 weeks later~
You lit a candle and set it on the dining room table as dinner was almost done. Pasta, Mark's favourite. You'd spent the day cleaning the house. Not because Mark is one of those "I work all day, I like to come home to a clean house and a nice meal," but because you wanted to do something nice for him.
Mark never expected anything from you. He never picked a fight with you. If ever there was an issue you talked it out, without yelling, or arguing, or insulting. The only time he's rough with you is in the bedroom, but he knows you love it.
You hear his car pull up as you drain the rotini. You set the steaming pot back on the stove as you hear the door open, quickly walking to greet him.
"Hi, Mark!" You say as he kicks his shoes off, looking around, "I have a surprise for you!"
"Y/n, what is this?" He smiles at you as you walk him to the dining room.
"I just thought you could use a nice night after a long week. I know you've been really stressed at work. And you've been so good to me. I just wanted to surprise you."
"It smells... amazing in here. Y/n," he turns to face you, "this is incredible." He pulls you into a tight embrace. You almost don't want to let go.
"Sit down," you say, "dinner is just about done."
One thing you love about Mark, he never brings his work home with him. For either his job as a homicide detective, or as an accomplice to John Kramer, aside from the sketches. Unless you ask him about his day, he doesn't talk about it, and when he does, it's nice. You never have to worry about if he's going to snap at you after a hard day, or hit you if he gets pissed off. He brings nothing but good vibes home, and you love him so much for that.
You both eat, sip wine, and just talk about life.
After you both finish, you take the plates to the kitchen as he announces he's going to get in the shower. Filling the sink up with hot water, you gently set the plates in as you hear the shower start.
You quietly take your clothes off in the bedroom and walk into the bathroom.
"Hi, want some company?" You ask, poking your head inside the shower. The look on his face says it all, and you climb in. Biting your lip as you walk up, pushing your bare skin to his. He kisses you as the hot water runs over both of your bodies, his hands on your hips. Feeling frisky, you move one of his hands onto your chest, smiling at him.
"Oooooooh," he growls as his other hand made its way behind your head. He grabs your hair, snapping your head back, and leans to kiss your neck.
"Mark," you gasp, "Mark, I don't want to be rough tonight..." he quickly let go, petting the back of your hair gently.
"I'm so sorry, y/n. You let me know what you want." He kisses your cheek softly.
A warm feeling overtook you. You absolutely loved that you could trust him enough that you can say no, without being worried about his reaction. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and kiss him deeply.
"Let's finish up... and go into the bedroom..." You smile seductively, biting your lip.
~
You dry yourselves off, and he suddenly swoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed bridal style. Smiling as he sets you down on the bed and sits next to you.
He kisses you slowly as he massages your thighs. You shiver as his fingertips touch your skin, loving every moment of it. Slowly kissing down your neck as his hand makes its way between your legs.
You moan his name softly as he touches you.
Tucking your hair behind your ear with his free hand and kisses your lips softly.
"Y/n... I love you so much." He strokes the side of your face, looking into your eyes. You smile big, blushing.
"I love you too, Mark."
He reaches over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, now the only light in the room coming from the candle burning on the table at the opposite side of the bed.
You rest your hands on his bare hips as he climbs on top of you, kissing your neck and feeling down your body.
"Is this okay?" He asks, licking his lips.
"Yes." You smile at him.
The rest of the night is filled with happiness, laughs, and the best lovemaking sessions you have ever had.
As you drift off to sleep at the end of the night, wrapped in Mark's warm embrace, you smile big, so happy that found the love of your life.
~end....
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thoughts on philly norman stating that john wanted to have a thing with paul just because he was bohemian and nothing to do with attraction? i know a few ppl who think this way too.
Fair question. Do you mean you know people who believe this about John or people who also wanna try out gay sex one (1) time?
Here's the passage again, I bolded the bits most relevant to my point:
From chance remarks he [John] had made, she [Yoko] gathered there had even been a moment when—on the principle that bohemians should try everything— he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul’s immovable heterosexuality. Nor, apparently, was Yoko the only one to have picked up on this. Around Apple, in her hearing, Paul would sometimes be called John’s Princess. She had also once heard a rehearsal tape with John’s voice calling out “Paul … Paul …” in a strangely subservient, pleading way. “I knew there was something going on there,” she remembers. “From his point of view, not from Paul’s. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn’t help wondering what it was really about.”
I haven't read the entirety of Norman's book, but other passages from it that I've come across feel contradictory to the idea that John was merely a "bohemian" and not authentically attracted to men (I'll leave some under the cut).
Either way, his book is not the only source for John being attracted to men and it seems kind of implausible to me that John would be into men in general but not into Paul but still want to fuck Paul specifically, to the point it actively pissed him off that Paul wouldn't "put out". If someone can flesh this scenario out in a way that makes sense to them, though, they're welcome to tell me about it.
If you want my personal opinion, someone in the "knowledge-chain" is downplaying: that is to say either John downplayed his feelings to Yoko in order to appease her/because he was in denial, or Yoko was trying downplay them to Norman to try and control the direction of his biography, or Norman kind of didn't like what Yoko was implying about John here, so he came up with a reason that would relativize it. I lean towards the latter because Yoko's quoted words just really don't cohere much with the concept that this wasn't about Paul specifically to John. (it could also be that John was openly contradictory in this way and that's just not quite coming out in the passage though)
Other sexuality-related stuff from John Lennon: A Life by Philip Norman
(not perfectly sourced, just screenshots of my epub, I'm on a train. If you need help, just ask)
this bit is genuinely insane. as in, according to this (and it seems, according to Yoko), John told Pete Shotton he let Brian toss him off because he thought this would – IN 1963???? – reflect positively on John?
Also, now we're saying something DID happen in Spain. Okay?
Underratedly Certified Insane anecdote about John.
This is a little later in the same chapter.
There might be more but I have to get off now.
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A very late WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and @cassietrn
Tagging @strangefable @carlosoliveiraa @shallow-gravy @minilev @wrathfulrook @josephslittledeputy @nightbloodbix @derelictheretic @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @inafieldofdaisies @ec-10 @ladyoriza @vampireninjabunnies-blog @voidika @onehornedbeast @thewanderer-000 @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @corvosattano @henbased @neverthesameneveranother @chazz-anova and @strafethesesinners
Here are three WIPs, each from Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore and Life, Despair & Monsters. Read below the cut.
TW: Harsh and heavy cursing, mentioned/implied character and general death of NPCs (either it be a time loop or a cybernetic homicidal monster around nine or ten feet tall and very pissed off). Implied mentioned sexual content, mentions of abuse and fantastical racism (against ghouls, Jericho leave Gob alone!). Mentioned prostitution and fantasies of murder (illegal but understandable).
First WIP is for the time loop/"Groundhog Day" FC5 AU fic called You're Almost Like Family where the Seeds are stuck in a, well, time loop. And whenever Silva (or the Seeds themselves) die, well, the days are reset. Funniest part is, none of the Seeds know that they are all in a loop, just their individual selves. Snippet below:
[John] slammed the entrance to his chalet shut, causing the blonde figure sorting his papers in his lounge to jump. The documents slipped out of her hands as she stood up with a hand to a holster, only to calm down when she realized it was him.
Noticing that the reports laid scattered on the floor, Nadi gave him a stink eye, gesturing to the papers.
John would have been apologetic if he simply didn't have time for this. Ironic given the predicament he was stuck in.
Sooner or later, the Deputy is going to end up dead, and he'll be back at square one... again.
The thought reignited his frustration, but he reigned in enough to examine his number two.
Nadi was a loyal member of the project, more faithful than Jacob's hound, and while they did butt heads sometimes, he was grateful for her presence and for her strategic input. Admittedly, John knew that without her, the Deputy would have gotten to him sooner rather than later.
I would have preferred not to have to had died to appreciate it.
"Once you finish with those, come meet me upstairs in my bedroom. There's something I need to discuss with you," John ordered smoothly, making his way to the stairs.
He didn't notice the confusion etched on the blonde's face, for John was already making his way up the stairs to his room.
It's times like these I wish I could have a shot of tequila, he thought to himself, walking over to the open bedroom window and closing it shut, pulling the lock down.
Next, he grabbed a torch light and shined it at the closet. Hearing nothing, he walked towards it and opened the doors. Empty.
Finally, John turned off his torch, knelt down, and swiftly rolled it harshly under the bed. Hearing no grunts, he looked under.
She's not under there... good.
John exhaled a huff of air, and sat on the edge of his bed as he put his hands over his face.
It was exhausting. Though John knew by the end of today, or the next two if he was lucky, the Deputy would be killed by something or another and he would be back at square one, he really needed to figure out how to reach out to her, without being shot.
Going to her too early leaves her shooting first and questioning the morality of it never, and trying to go to her late only ends up with her being killed by whoever it is she seems to have evoked the wrath of. Not that he thinks she doesn't entirely deserve it.
He needed guidance, and from his last conversation with Joseph, his brother seemed content with sitting by and letting God do his work.
And he tried. To wait it out. To let God do His work. But if the sign that John seemed to be getting was that leaving the Deputy to her own accord only leads to her death, and back to the morning of Joseph's arrest.
And it wasn't like Jacob, or worse, Faith, were going to be helpful.
John had figured out quickly that his intervention was needed for the Deputy to even get through another day. And while the Father may not have understood what he told him, John deduced that this was a test from God.
A test against his sloth. A test towards his patience. A test meant to prove that John was worthy of entering Eden. And what better way than to save the life and soul of another? Especially one as sinful and wrathful as the Deputy?
Which is why he waits for the only other faithful member of the project, his trustworthy second-in-command.
A knock on the door shifted his thoughts to the matter at hand, and he made his way to the door.
Opening it, Nadi stood there, the blond looking at him with expecting brown eyes.
John pulled her inside, earning a yelp from the young woman, and closed the door behind her.
Here's a WIP for a collection of short fics from different character perspectives throughout my Fallout fic series A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore. It is still under heavy editing, but I've got a good grasp on where to take it. Snippet below:
In the five of the twenty four hours she's been awake, Nova had expected more-or-less the same day as before.
Walking around and offering her body to anyone who came into the saloon had not been a life she pictured for herself as a little girl, but it was one that paid well.
Well, it would have been if Moriarty didn't continue to take a cut of her and Gob's pay any time a customer gave them a generous donation.
That and the amount of times Moriarty had utilized her services with no intention of paying her, but she supposed it was a better alternative to being kicked out of Megaton. Given Moriarty still had that power.
She drew in the smoke from her cigarette, and surveyed from her post as Gob gave another orange bottle of whiskey to Jericho, the ex-raider sneering at the ghoul, his disgust evident all over his face.
Thankfully he didn't make a scene, slamming the small bag of caps on the counter as he left through the door.
Gob stared at the bag, string noose tied tightly around the bag, not immediately grabbing it. Nova could take a guess that Gob was lamenting over the debts that he owed Moriarty. Debts both the prostitute and the ghoul bartender wordlessly knew their boss was unlikely to pay.
Gob snapped out of it though, giving a miserable sigh, and dragging the bag away from the counter for Moriarty to pocket later, turning his attention to the damn radio that never seemed to play at the right time.
It pained Nova to see Gob like this. He was a real sweetheart with shitty luck, and she knew that the only upsides in his life were the hope of one day paying off his debts, however unlikely that was, and the Gravity News Radio host screaming out "fighting the good fight", whatever that entailed.
She was also painfully well aware of his crush on her.
Though she never had minded his appearance to the point she'd hang out with him in public, given how much she knows the ghoul is actually a decent guy, she had her limits, which was rare given her current standing under Moriarty.
She hoped he could find some semblance of happiness, whether that be with a person or a life long after Moriarty was rotting in the ground. But it wouldn't be with her.
If things were different though...
Nova looked away from Gob, shaking the thought away. It didn't matter on the what ifs, right now she had a job to perform.
She could ponder a different time.
Just as Gob began to smack the radio, a risky action given Moriarty's repeated threats on treating his property harshly, the saloon door creaked open, and Nova spotted two teens enter. One male, the other female. Both wearing what appeared to be blue jumpsuits with the numbers "101" imprinted in yellow on their backs.
Nova eyed them both. The young man was of average build, short auburn hair cut neatly with a few strands springing out from the harshness of the wasteland most likely, and light brown eyes on the lookout for anyone and anything.
The young woman on the other hand had dark hair tied in a pony tail, was a little chubbier than her counterpart, and her hazel eyes were more focused, trying to narrow down a specific person.
They glanced back to the door, whispering amongst themselves, though not too quiet that she couldn't catch their words.
Amongst the harsh gravel Gob spat out at the poor radio, and the chatter amongst the patrons, Nova could decipher the words "here" "back outside" and "think she'll stay?" in hushed voices.
And finally Jennifer putting murder on her mind to the back burner as she remembers to drop, duck and cover my WIP of Sonya's Push. Snippet below:
Breathing heavily as she pushed her way through the audience as they gazed upon the newest arena fight between beasties, the bruises formed from her fight with Malvolio's bitch protesting against her movements.
The blonde looked back to the closed elevator door on the other side, paranoid that Malvolio's Beastie would burst through at any moment.
The speed of it had been abnormal, disappearing in a blink and being nothing more than a flicker of movement when it had slid down to the hall. The movement of its tail daggers swift and deadly, like her own claws. The red in its one eye, more robotic than flesh.
Why had Dicko approved such a thing? It barely counted as a beastie with the mass of metal it was made of! Jennifer huffed, and around the arena, looking pass the patrons in search of Dicko.
Her blue eyes spotted the Englishman on a lower circle, himself seated down on his VIP sofa that she once shared with him, disheveled but celebrating his escape with a glass of disgusting champagne, like the pig hadn't just left her to die to that one-eyed mech of a beast. As if the reason it was free in the first place wasn't because he allowed his creep of a "buddy" onto his premises, or the fact Sir Enigma might be a fucking alien in addition to a Darwinist with no care for the fact "handing control" did not mean "releasing the Beastie from its brainwashing bullshit".
She felt the razor claws pushing through her fingertips as she glared at the man from across the arena, anger and betrayal clouding her mind.
Those fantasies of killing him while in his bed resurfaced, and she oh so wanted to enact them now, with the sofa as an acceptable exception.
She wanted to get her claws through his throat before the Beastie could make its way down to the arena. She tried to move pass the cheering audience, making her way around to the other side to get to the stairs.
However much she tried though, a block of people just refused to move aside, and she was tempted to slice her way through if it weren't for the guards.
Ding!
...Or the faint noise of the elevator door that echoed throughout the arena, deaf to everyone but her.
Frozen in place as she looked back, trying to get a glimpse of the beast that would no doubt tear them apart.
She pushed people aside to get a solid look. Enough people disbanded to show the doors opening to reveal the empty box of the elevator.
Jennifer's face scrunched in confusion, mouth gaping open and shut, lips stinging as the cut on her upper lip made contact with her bottom one. She desperately searched for any sign of the beast, the monster made of steel, the relentless creature that stalked and hunted her not moments ago.
Upon still seeing nothing, she let out a mirthless laugh as she turned her back to the elevator, shaking her head as she focused her attention on Dicko once more, the man a ring below talking with one of his guards.
It was with this focus that she noticed a... shift on the stone barriers that kept the audience at bay.
Large spots on the stone cracked, small dusts of powder dropping down as an unseen pressure was placed on the stone. She saw more of this dust from the next ring up, and then the next, and the next.
Up and up and further up until it stopped at the final ring. Then dust slowly dropped down from the roof, unbeknownst to the audience too invested on the violence happening between the two wild beasties below them. Not that the fight between those Beasties were anything special unlike what she saw from her hunter mere hours ago.
Jennifer felt some familiarity with this, words exchanged to her by the madman who released the Apex from its prison, a far too fond explanation on how the creature could "rush so fast it would be merely a flicker to the human eye!"
"...Or match its environment to disappear right before you," Malvolio explained, grinning at her with all his teeth.
Jennifer's eyes widened as she barely registered the outline of the beast that had adjusted its steel to uncloak itself while hanging from dark and dank ceiling. Red optic looking down to the cheers in the rings and the Beasties fighting under it.
She saw the tail split in three, and immediately followed her gut by making distance from the open space of the barriers.
She had just dropped flat onto the floor to curl up and cover her head when the she heard the wind and patron's necks crack in one simultaneous whoosh.
#wip wednesday#a very late one#far cry the silver chronicles#wip: you're almost like family#far cry 5#john seed#oc: nadi sinclair#the seed family#mentioned ocs#oc: silva omar#wip: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore#fallout#fallout 3#fo3 nova#fo3 gob#fo3 jericho#colin moriarty#only mentioned by name though#and for those whose names were not mentioned when they appeared#the lone wanderer#oc: alph dolen#amata almodovar#and an oc mentioned but neither by name nor does she appear lol just a single pronoun#oc: marissa “ress” bishop#wip: sonya's push#life despair & monsters#love death + robots#sonnie's edge#ld+r jennifer#oc: sonya the apex
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Alright you guys voted
Malevolent x Mechanisms
It was oddly quiet on the Aurora as they set off on their next adventure. After what was supposed to be their deaths and they came back, they decided to take a more active role in their stories. A few ten or so thousands of years ago, they picked up two more member and an obnoxious note from the good doctor stating she was still kicking. Jonny was pissed about that more so than his supposed final death.
Overall, again, it was quite a peaceful day on the Aurora. Their current mission, go back to Noel and Oscar's time on earth to find a way to the dreamlands. Time travel was easy it was just getting there that took effort. What nobody expected was the man to suddenly appear on the ship.
Arthur stumbled forward to the hard metal floor of the Aurora. "John, where are we?"
"It's a white hallway, but I have never seen anything like this. It's eeriely clean, and the lights are so bright." John pauses. "Yorick, do you know where we are?"
"Nerophropte has sent us in a random direction in space, but it appears I do not know where we are." Yorick clicks his jaw.
Arthur grabs the knife in his bag. "Ok prepare for anything."
"Right, the elephant." John pauses. "It's a straight hallway it seems to be split at the end. There is also what seem to be doors that look like the ones we saw on that boat, but cleaner and smooth. There seem to be names on each door."
Arthur pauses. "What are the names?"
"The two we are in between are labeled Gunpowder Tim and Jonny D'ville. Wait!" John holds Arthur's hand. "A door has opened before us, it slide to the side, and a man has stepped out. His skin seems to be made of metal like a machine."
"Metal...?" Arthur pauses as the so-called metal man spots him. He steps back, weighing his options.
"How did you get here?" Soft metal creaks are heard as the metal man walked closer. "You look awful." His voice was kind.
"The metal man is in front of us. He holds a look of confusion on his features. He seems to be studying us."
Arthur swallows. "W- I seem to be lost, could you tell me where I am?"
"King, ask him if he knows of Nerophropte!" Yorick interrupts.
"Is that a talking skull?" The soft sound of metal creaking is heard as John explains the man has crouched to look at Yorick. "Well, you're on our starship, Aurora. We are on a course for earth, and you shouldn't have just appeared on here."
Arthur decided that in a split second, he should pretend to know what that means. "Right, well, that skull is Yorick, and we'll just leave and get out of your way."
"...leave?" The man now sounded confused. "Right... um, my name is Drumbot Brian. You can just call me Brian, and I'll show you around you don't want to accidently end up in Raphaella lab."
"Arthur Lester, I'm Arthur."
"He seemed to raise a brow when you said your name. He now looks like he had a moment of recognition."
Brian hums softly. "Follow me, please."
"Ah, right, of course." Arthur swallows and follows the metal man with John's help.
........
"Arthur, there is a shorter man who approached us. His ears seem to fan out like a cow's, but they don't fold over. He has short horns on his forehead and a long tail coming behind him. His teeth are bare and sharp. He has goggles around his neck and way too many belts on." John pauses. "It appears he looks confused.
"Drumbot, what the fuck?" The man spoke voice deeper than either would expect.
"Jonny, he just appeared on the ship." Brian pointed to them. "His name is Arthur Lester."
Jonny thinned his lips into a frown and raised his brow. "You sure that's his name?"
"I can hear both of you." Arthur sighs. "Yes, that is my name."
"Arthur! Jonny has grabbed my hand, and his pupils seem to widen like a cat. He is looking at our wooden pinky." John sounded unsure.
"Finally, something interesting." Jonny grabs John's hand. "I know where one of the two newbies are."
Brian sighs. "Try not to kill him."
Arthur's eyes widen. "Kill me?" He works with John to pull away, but the man is much stronger than either realized.
"Ah, don't be scared. I ain't gonna hurt ya." Jonny laughs, pulling them along the white hallways.
John does his best to describe as they suddenly stop. "It seems we have made it into a room full of weapons. There is a man with long dark brown hair that curls, and he is wearing goggles working on a gun. There is a second man... wait! Arthur, that looks like Oscar! He seems to be sharpening a knife."
"Oscar?" Arthur mumbles.
"Oi! You fuckers we got a stowaway." Jonny loudly exclaims.
The man looks up from his gun. "He looks like shit. Also, how did Nastya not find him?"
"Drumbot said he just appeared." Jonny had a smirk to his tone.
"Just appeared?" The man pulls down his goggles to reveal mechanical eyes. "Bullshit."
"Oscar has jumped down from the counter and has approached up. He's very close to us and seems to be studying us like he doesn't recognize us." John pauses. "He seems to have recognized us."
"Yeah, that's Arthur. He looks worse than when we last parted, but that was ages ago. His eyes give him away." Oscar steps back, crossing his arms. "How did you end up here? Did the good doctor touch him?"
"Fuck. Didn't even check." Jonny huffs. "Not important, but that's him."
"Yeah, it's him." Oscar turns away. "You should probably find Noel. He spent more time with him than I did. Also, I'm not mad about the arm anymore." He hops back up on the counter. "Glad to see you're not dead."
"W-what happened to you?" Arthur swallows, staring at the man he once knew. "Your letter..."
"My..... ah." Oscar's lips thin, and he frowns. "It's been a long time, Arthur. You should find Noel. Things have changed. Time marches on, and honestly, I've nearly forgotten you."
"Oscar, I don't understand what you mean. Where are we? What happened?" Arthur sounded desperate.
Jonny gave a look to Tim, and he pulled out harmonica. "Well, what do you say? Shall we tell him?"
Tim pulls out a guitar case. "Up to you Oscar."
"I suppose it's been a while." Oscar hops down again. "Aurora, would you be a dear and get me my piano?"
"Arthur, a thin piano seems to come out of the wall."
"Thin...?" Arthur jumps back at the sound of piano keys being rapidly played.
Oscar clears his throat. "Well, might as well begin..."
(Now, in the style of Will Wood, Oscar begins. Again, I'm not good at songwriting or poetry, so meh)
"My tale as all sad tales begin in an orphanage. Frail and small being told to keep my head down only had a small friend to keep close. The good father, the oh so perfect priest, didn't like my small friend, and so he decided to have his way with the boy."
"My a rage grew inside, and I nearly took that priests life. I wish I had. Hands barely stained. I drenched them in holy water and became a priest. First case first mistake was old an old woman and her husband. Creatures from beyond and a death that was not my fault on my hands. Drowned the desires with liquor and kept moving forward. Until the old woman saight my help once more, now her sister was about to suffer the same fate."
"Then the man with golden eyes came down to offer me salvation. Salvation, a purpose, something to replace my desires with. Never looked right at you he lied about his name and talked to himself. I wonder if he ever responded. I was a fool to follow nothing but a sheep to slaughter. Tugged along by desires and the hope of forgiveness from a god who did not care."
"It was an abandoned home which I found myself in. Creatures that did not belong to the world burrowed under my skin. The golden eyed savior took my arm saved my life, I suppose, but was it really worth it? Abandoned, I lay in the hospital when a good doctor sweeper me away for emergency surgery. My life as a mortal ended as fresh as a newborn lamb. I tried oh I did try so hard to return."
"Funny how life works a man came to the parish, nothing to note but the six piece he held up. Never felt the bullet as it ripped through. I lay on the ground, welcoming death. Then, as I realized I woke up and shouted off the devil and resurrection, echo in the hallowed halls as I sat up. Wish I could remember that madman face alas it's lost to time. The blood that soaked my clothes told me it wasn't a dream."
"Now, does god truly matter when death is no longer an option? What is eternity to someone who believed in an end that was no longer able to be gotten to? Even small mercies as the detective found me at the end of a bottle of bloody fists and in the hole. Sanity isn't something you would wish upon anyone, I suppose, but it came to me as the detective pulled me from my stupor. To the poor detective, I was beyond saving."
"No matter what he tried, he was unaware of his own changes, and death mocks us both. Then, from the sky, like bloody angels came, the others. Now, to know better, they were devils as I was. To the future or the past didn't really matter much in the face of eternity. As I said in the beginning, this is a sad tale, and as every sad tale, the ending is unhappy, but in this case, it will remain forever unending, ain't that a shame you'll never know a true end in the face of eternity."
"Faith won't save you, gods are a lie, and to eternity, what's the point of suffering so might as well have fun."
Oscar laughs as the song comes to an end. "It's been a few. I don't know. I stopped keeping track. Honestly, I am no way the same man you once knew... wait, I have to ask. Is there another guy in there?" He turns to face Arthur. "Noel mentioned something eons ago."
"John?" Arthur pauses.
"Another fucking John?" Jonny huffs.
Tim snickers. "Awwww, getting pissy?"
"Fuck you solider boy." Jonny rolls his eyes.
Oscar sighs, putting the piano back into the wall. He gets up and walks by Arthur. "Come on, follow me. Their arguments never end without bloodshed. You don't want to get in the crossfire."
"What the fuck? Serious what the fuck is this place? Did Kayne send us here on purpose?" Arthur, let's Oscar pull him along as gunfire starts.
"Nerophropte did not send us here on purpose. He merely sent us to a place where you can breathe." Yorick clicks out. "Oscar is the same man you met before, my lord."
"Can't say a talking skull is the weirdest thing I've seen." Oscar hums. "Anyway, I think Noel is with Ashes they're planning on staying on earth for a bit if the dreamland plan falls through. Noel's planning on going back as a detective until he gets bored. Ashes is planning on being his sidekick of sorts."
"So, is this some sort of game to you guys?" Arthur is shaking. "What how long has it even been that you're treating lives like some sort of game?"
"Oscar has stopped walking. He is looking back to us. His face has fallen to a frown. He is messing with his mechanical hand."
"Arthur, it's been nearly a million years. I'm surprised I still can remember you. We've been traveling the stars watching empires rise and fall people come and go. I've thrown myself into a star to try to die for some peace it didn't work. As I said, I've got eternity, and it's not as if I can just go back to how I was." Oscar sighs. "Look, we'll drop you back on earth if that's what you want, but you'll have to understand we aren't the same."
"A million years?" Arthur has his mouth open as he tries to process that time.
Yorick clicks his mouth open. "My king wishes to know if you've become gods."
Oscar laughs. "Gods? Fuck no. We're just immortal space pirates. We can't do anything spectacular." He motions for Arthur to follow. "Come on, I think they're in the commons."
......
Noel hasn't changed from John's description save for the metal in his neck and a sparkling trench coat. Arthur stands close to Oscar before clearing his throat. "Noel?"
"Yes?" Noel looks up, tilting his hat back.
Oscar sighs. "Arthur Lester." He shoves Arthur forward. "Have fun. I'm going to make everyone lunch because how else are we going to gather them."
"Hello, New Friend! I Am The Toy Solider." TS smiles and waves.
"The creature seems to be made out of wood and has a uniform on." John pauses. "There is also a woman here, dark skin half spiked up hair smoking a cigar and has her feet kicked up watching us."
Noel dusts himself off. "You're alive? How are you even here?""
"Kayne and um, I shouldn't." Arthur blinks.
"Is John still in there?" Noel pauses watching Arthur's left hand wave. "Huh, alright, so what's with the skull?"
"I am Yorick!"
"Ah, it talks." Noel raised a brow. "Alright, anyway, welcome to the Starship Aurora."
"You from the same place Gunpower is from?" A female voice rings out. "You've got similar accents."
"Well, he's also human, but we did meet in America." Noel pauses. "Arthur, what's wrong?"
Arthur is shaking. "This shouldn't be like this. This has to be another trick. Kayne lied to us."
"Arthur, I know this is a lot." Noel puts his hand down.
"No! This is impossible! We can't be in space, and you guys can't be real." Arthur starts to cry. "Kayne made a deal with us he promised."
Noel gets up and approaches Arthur cautiously. "Hey, it's alright.. Arthur, you got to breathe."
Arthur crumples to the ground as a woman with long hair and a smile on her lips holds out a syringe.
"Fucking Ralpheala he's not a toy." Noel pinches his brow.
......
Arthur groans as he wakes up. "W-what happened?"
"He's awake! Good, what am I holding."
"I... what?" Arthur's eyes don't focus.
"Arthur, I can't see." John sounded scared.
"I can't see." Arthur swallows and a different voice rings out.
"Don't sever their connection Arthur's blind without John." That was Noel's voice.
Several clicks and levers are heard, and then John gasps. "We appear to be in a sterile room on a table of sorts. We are strapped down by metal restraints."
"Seriously, just let him go." Noel seemed annoyed. "Just because we changed doesn't mean he has to."
"Who else can I experiment on with a fragment of a god in them.... don't say Lyf, they are banned after that incident with Marius.... don't you ever tell him I said that or your the next one on my table."
"Your secret is safe with me, and I mean I get it, but like, can you at least make sure he's healthy first." Noel frowns.
"I put him in clean clothes and cleaned that skull of his."
"I am shining!" Yorick clicks from a different part of the room.
"However, you're right. I'm surprised he has survived anything like this. He is mortal, after all. How about this? I take you and have some fun, and Arthur here can join the others for dinner."
"You always drive a hard bargain doll, but if I must." Noel removes his hat and the metal straps release, and he helps Arthur off the table."Just keep going straight, kid. Mess hall is right down the way." He pushes Arthur out, and the door shuts behind him.
Arthur stumbles forward. "I uh, what happened?"
"That woman's name is Raphaella, she is a science officer on this ship. She scares me. She located me seporate from you and talked about how I am inside of you, and I have roots, but I do not know what that means." John huffs. "I would really like to leave this place."
"You and me both." Arthur sighs. "Come on, let's head to this mess hall."
"Maybe we can talk to Oscar again."
"You want to talk to him?"
"He has changed, and I don't understand why it interests me."
"Ok, one step at a time."
......
"Fuck me how the fuck did you get out of Ralph's lab?" Jonny shoves a plate of food at Arthur which John holds.
"Noel was with him, you know that freaky shit they have going on." Tim rolls his eyes. "Dude, you look even worse in fresh clothes."
"Did Someone Starve You Chap?" TS had that same smile, but the tone sounded concerned.
Marius frowns. "TS don't ask that."
"It is right, though, I don't think I've seen a belt tied that tight." Nastya hums.
"Probably shouldn't ask those questions." Oscar mumbles.
Ashes sigh and push Arthur to sit at the table and make him take a bite before he can speak. "He's like a scared animal."
"I'll give him a proper exam later." Marius sighs. "He's pale for a human, right?"
"Why are you looking at me? I'm not a medical professional." Tim scoffs.
"You are human, though." Jonny says through bites.
"So is Oscar, but you don't see us judging you on paleness asshole." Tim huffs.
"Try to drag me into another argument, and I'm taking you both to my room." Oscar's tone didn't leave room for argument.
"Yeah, not when there's a stranger." Jonny sighs. "But later, offers open?"
"Perhaps." Oscar chuckles.
"Aurora appreciates that you know her blind spots." Nastya hums. "However, we will need you for ship maintenance in a fortnight."
Oscar hums softly. "Yeah, alright, that's not an issue."
"Why are you out here, Nastya? Are you curious about the stowaway?" Jonny has a smug smile.
"No." Nastya huffs.
Soft metal creaks, and Brian sits next to Arthur. "Don't mind them. Mealtime is one of the rare times most of us are in the same area of the ship. Even if I can't eat, neither can TS. Marius is the ship's doctor, so he can look you over later. Don't mind the human comment he's jesting. Tim is paler than you."
Arthur seems to relax slightly but than someone sits on his other side.
"You have books in your bag. I went through them and copied them to my system." Ivy places the bag filled with Arthur's things in his lap.
"Uh copied?" Arthur blinks before taking another bite.
"Yes, you come from a very historical time. I scanned your books to my system." Ivy is quiet and mumbles a thank you when is handed a plate of food.
Brian hums softly. "Eat your fill. We always have more to spare." The reasons why are left unsaid.
Arthur nods. "It's very good."
"It was Ashes' turn to cook today." Brian sighs. "I offered, but it's not my day till next week."
Arthur pauses for a moment. "You guys really want to find the dreamlands? It's a horrible place."
"We're immortal, and it's been peaceful for too long if you ask Jonny. I have my own opinions, but even I am getting bored." Brian sighs.
........
"The man with mechanical eyes is next to us. His name is Tim, and the rest have cleared out of the kitchen, cleaning the plates and garbage."
"I remember his name, John." Arrhur sighs.
"You really have another guy in there." Tim hums and leans back. "Must be something." He pauses and crosses his arms and sighs. "Are you really blind?"
Arthur furrows his brows, not expecting the question. "Yes, John took my eyes. He describes the world around me."
"Sometimes I wish I was blind, just for a moment." Tim sighs. "Mechanical eyes see more than you can imagine. It's overwhelming at the best of times, probably why I see yellow around you."
"That's John." Arthur frowns. "This doctor, did you ask to be like this?"
Tim snorts. "Fuck no." He sighs. "I lost the man I loved in a war that doesn't even matter. I blew up the moon, and my eyes burned out of my skull. The doctor found me drifting in the escape pod, and I wasn't even aware of anything till I woke up in pain. All of us have a story, and none of them are happy. We had the promise of a final death, but it was a lie. The doctor made sure to put a message in Oscar's arm to tell us that. We ain't ever going to die or grow old, but at least we've got each other."
Arthur sighs. "That sounds horrid."
"It's our reality. So now, the actual question, kid, you really met gods?" Tim looks a bit amused.
"Yes." Arthur tilts his head. "I wouldn't suggest going against them."
"Well, I'm not going to take that suggestion." Tim leans back. "Our first mistake with the bifrost was to not get more involved. We aren't going to make the same mistake. I want to fight a god it's not like it will kill me."
"You'll go mad. These outer realm beings, these gods, are beyond comprehension." Arthur holds his left hand.
"Already went mad and circled back to sanity all of us had. Comes with the territory." Tim chuckles. "Keep that good heart of yours, don't let it be taken." He gets up. "Worst part is we all can actually remember what we were before this, side effect the good doctor put in. Don't believe our lies that we don't remember. Anyway, I'm done being cryptic. I'm going to the armory." He waves and walks away.
Arthur pauses. "W-wait what do you mean?"
"He is ignoring you." John sighs.
"I figured as much." Arthur sighs.
.......
It's been a week, at least, that's what the clock is telling Arthur. He has gotten accustomed to the chaos that this ship Aurora brings. Oscar still has the habits and quirks he can remember, and so does Noel. But they are still different. He sighs and gets up. His room was temporary, as he was told, but it was still nicer than anything he had in ages. Yorick has taken to spending time in the lab with Raphealla, they get along like a house on fire.
Arthur turns his head to the sound of his door opening.
"It's Jonny. He has stepped into our room, and the door shut behind him." John pauses. "He seems melancholy."
"You're mortal." Jonny's accent sounded southern, which Arthur didn't dwell on.
"As I've been saying." Arthur raised a brow, feeling his bed shift as Jonny sits next to him.
Jonny is quiet for a moment. "I remember how to be mortal, ever since DTTM. My life before has been etched into my mind. Before this metal heart, before the doctor before my first death." He sighs. "I wasn't always like this. None of us were. Of I tell you things, I don't have to worry about it lingering because you're a mortal."
"So you're going to talk to me because I'll eventually die?" Arthur hissed as Jonny punched his shoulder.
"No. You're missing the fucking point." Jonny huffs. "I'm telling you because you're not immortal, not forced to watch the universe grow old while you remain unchanging."
Arthur pauses but nods.
"The doctors name was Carmillia. I was the first mechanism, I'm the oldest. I followed her blindly at first. But I don't think I was the first." Jonny crosses his arms. "My ma went to settle a debt with her curtsy of my father. She never came back." He sighs. "The others know I'm first they know I'm the oldest. Tim's actually the youngest, Lyf doesn't count. I came from a lonely astroid. It was mostly desert, but it was home."
"You killed your father. I already knew this. You already told me." Arthur frowns.
"He wasn't a good man. My mom was the one who taught me to shoot, to hunt to feed myself, and to stay alive. Father drained our money on gambling and drinking. I still have my mother's gun she gave it to me before she went to face off with the good doctor. It doesn't work anymore, and I don't want Tim to upgrade it, but..."
"You want me to look at it? Why?" Arthur sounded curious.
"It might be similar to your time periods weapons Noel mentioned something off hand after spotting it in my room." Jonny huffs and shoves a box at Arthur. "I ain't asking Charlie."
Arthur held the box in his hand it was metal, but he could feel the weight behind it. "Ok, I'll do my best. I only request to cut the shooting when I'm around."
Jonny hops off the bed. "Yeah, yeah, you baby, I'll let the others know." The door opens and shuts as he leaves.
"Why does he trust you?"
"He doesn't, John." Arrhur sighs but smiles. "He respects me that's a big difference."
.......
Raphealla cornered Arthur next. "Arthur."
Arthur nearly throws the box in his hands. The gun was actually quite easy to fix once the rust was cleaned out, and he was going to return it to Jonny. "Y-yes?"
"Can I fix your eyes? Or I could give you a second pair so you both can use them. What about a second mouth?" Raphaella sounded way too excited. "Or I could try to separate you two. I'm sure I can scrape together enough biomass to make a functioning body for John."
"I do not trust her, Arthur."
"Neither do I." Arthur frowns. "Look, we have to get this to Jonny. So if you'll excuse us."
"Wait just for a moment. I saw roots, and I just need to see that again."
"Roots?" John was confused.
"Roots, you mean from my pinky?" Arthur pauses.
"Well, there's those roots, but I'm talking like golden roots. I only severed one, and that locked John from your eyes."
"I really don't trust her." John tightened his grip on the metal box.
Raphealla huffs when Jonny passes her and screeches to a halt.
"Did you..." Jonny takes the box and opens it, pulling out the gun with a name crudely carved into the handle. He messes it, and it clicks softly. "You fixed it. You actually fixed it."
"Jonny?" Raphaella sounded concerned. "You're crying."
"I..." Jonny sniffs and holds the gun close. "Thank you." He runs off to the barracks.
Raphealla blinks. "What did you do?"
"It's nothing much." Arthur shrugs, and he uses this to escape the pressures of Raphaella experiments.
......
It's been a month now. Arthur must admit he will miss these guys when they land on earth. In the meantime, he thinks he's coming down with a fever.
"Arthur, we have to get out of bed. We will miss breakfast. You look healthy." John sounded concerned.
"Mmh, don't feel well." Arthur groans. "Missing a meal is fine." He pulls the blanket tighter around him.
"Arthur!" John huffs and reaches out for the messaging device they gave them. Noel taught him Morse code.
Arthur huffs. "John, let me rest."
John starts to tap out a message. "Arthur has not left his bed he will miss breakfast."
John pauses. "Arthur? Arthur!"
Arthur's soft snores were a response that was interrupted by Marius and Raphaella crashing into his room. Tim, Noel, and Oscar were behind them.
"It's probably just a fever." Noel raised his brow. "Humans tend to get sick."
"I will check the roots!" Raphealla was way too happy to take this excuse to pick up Arthur and run to her lab.
Marius wasn't far behind.
Tim rubs his temples. "We have five more months of this."
"Shame really, I'll miss him." Oscar frowns. "But it would be cruel to keep them here."
"To be fair, he would be safer here than on earth." Noel makes a vague motion with his hands.
Tim hums. "Yeah, that's right. World War two is right around the corner, ain't it? That could be a distraction. For us, not him."
"Fuck yeah I would love to kill nazis." Noel chuckles. "Bet I can get more than you."
"Fucking you're on!" Tim laughs.
"Ooo, we can do a betting pool and for specific weapon types." Oscar smiles.
The three humans nod and shake on it.
"Jonny's going to be pissed we thought of this first." Tim snickers.
"Sucks to be him." Noel smirks.
........
"Hmmmm, I was right." Raphaella smirks. "The roots have gotten deeper."
Arthur was delirious, so he didn't really understand.
John tapped on the metal table. "I don't have any other control nor things are different."
"Fascinating." Raphaella huffs. "Can't ask Arthur he's got a pretty bad fever."
"That's why I put cooling pads on him." Marius pulls up his monocular. "Granted, it's just a virus, so it has to run its course. Well, that's how I observe humans to be."
"I need him lucid." Raphaella scowls. "Can't we just cure him?"
"Last time you tried, you created a super virus that kept killing us for months." Marius crossed his arms. "Remember he's mortal."
"Shit." Raphaella groans. "Where's Noel? I'll experiment on him."
John starts to tap again. "You won't kill him."
"Trying not to." Marius hums.
........
"Old Chap I Found This Coin In Front Of Your Door." TS smiled as in their fashion holding up a coin.
"That's Kayne's coin!" John shouted, and Arthur groans, just getting over his cold.
"What do you mean Kayne's coin?" Arthur rubbed his eyes he just got out of bed because TS knocked on their door.
"Shall We Flip For It?" TS already tossed the coin in the air.
Arthur's eyes widen. "Wait, wait, wait!" He flinches as the coin lands. He waits for a moment. "Oh thank fuck."
"Oh thank fuck for what?" A voice came from behind.
"Hello, New Friend!" TS waves eagerly.
"It seems you've ended somewhere new. Did not know I sent you here, Artie." Manic laughter filled the halls. "My my I wonder where you-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP JONNY ITS TOO EARLY FOR MANIA." A female voice shouts down the hall.
"FUCK YOU ASHES I AIN'T DONE SHIT." Jonny shouts back.
"STOP FUCKING SHOUTING." A different male voice rang out.
"THIS IS VERY FUN!" TS shouted along.
A door adjacent from Arthur's opened. Noel stepped out he was in just boxers rubbing his eyes. "Why the fuck is everyone shouting?"
Kayne stops. "Oh, I didn't know we would have an audience. Let me just...." Several wet explosions are heard till it's quiet. "Anyway, as I was saying, how did you end up here? Where's your little Vanguard?"
"What Is A Vanguard?" TS smiles, looking up at the floating man.
Kayne snaps, and nothing happens. "What are you?"
"I Am The Toy Solider. Are We Playing A Game?" TS smiles as they always do at Kayne.
"To be perfectly honest, I do not know what kind of creature the Toy Solider is." John adds.
"We aren't playing." Arthur sighs. "What do you want, Kayne?"
"Aww, aren't you happy to see me? Well, not see, Jonny boy does that for you." Kayne laughs again.
"What do you want? We already found the black stone. You didn't even hold up your end of the deal!" Arthur scoffs.
"Well, I did, but you aren't there, I think Daniel has custody. You know it was adorable seeing you two reconnect." Kayne clicks his tongue. "Well, I need another favor, just a tiny one, and you'll have your daughter back all safe and sound."
"No." Arthur crossed his arms.
"No? Now Arthur, I wasn't giving you a choice. I was just being polite. Aren't you curious why I didn't give John his own body?" Kayne smirks as Arthur steps back. "Isn't that a conundrum?"
"Arthur, don't listen to him he's just - "John is cut off by shouting.
"WHAT THE FUCK RAPHAELLA KEEP YOUR SONIC FUCKING DEVICES OFF."
"FUCK YOU I DIDN'T DO SHIT."
"WHOEVER FUCKING DID IT IS DOING LAUNDRY ASSHAT."
"THIS IS WHY WE HAVE NO FUCKING WEAPONS IN THE BARRACKS YOU CUNTS."
Kayne pauses. "They're supposed to be dead."
"Doesn't stick." Noel groans, wiping the blood from his chest. "You're welcome to try again. Death would be a blessing."
"Who's the white hair floating guy?" Oscar says as his door opens and he's pulling off a blood-soaked shirt.
"Um..." Kayne looks back to Arthur.
"Is this the asshole that ruined my fucking room?" Jonny is stomping towards Kayne. "You couldn't even wait till we were in a fucking area easier to clean. Like fuck we all agreed no violence in the barracks unless it's consensual."
"Seriously, I wasn't actually having a nightmare." Tim flips Kayne off from his open door.
"Guys, you really shouldn't..." Arthur trails off.
"Or what the weird floating freaks gonna kill us? Torture us? I've been there done that." Jonny waves his hand. "Oh wait Oh no mister freak don't kill us it's not as if we've lived fir eons and can't fucking die. Like, do you hear yourself?"
"Immortals? How amusing many claims that, but there's always a limit." Kayne smirks, booping Jonny's nose.
"Please find it because we've tried everything. Who the fuck is this guy?" Jonny throws his hands up. "You know what? I don't actually care. Fucking TS collect the laundry."
"Of Course!" TS walls off and begins to collect all the ruined fabric.
"Oh, truly immortal? What makes you think you're so special?" Kayne moves so close to Jonny. "You aren't human either. I don't tend to stray from earth. Humans are so much fun to play with."
"I know, right!" Raphaella gives a thumbs up.
"Techincally, there's only three humans on the crew, Arthur is a guest." Brian chimes in. "Raphealla just likes the sample size."
Arthur pinches his brow. "That's Kayne, the god I was talking about."
"Yeah and?" Marius joins in. "We've already gone after a god."
"Fuck the train!" Tim shouts from his room.
"Y something or other, I really don't care." Jonny scoffs. "Unless your going to give us another Lyf I mean for fucks sake. Annoying bastard."
Kayne sighs. "Look, Artie, your new friends are nice, but I don't care. Don't you want to go back to earth?"
"We're already heading to earth." Brian sighs.
"Speaking of earth, didn't you already try killing your ancestors?" Marius walks over to Tim.
"Fucking don't remind me. Didn't even fucking work just gave me darker hair because the universe corrects itself. That doesn't meanni want another fucking lesson Jonny." Tim huffs.
"You've tried killing your ancestors?" Kayne appears in front of Tim.
"Not tried. I did." Tim's mechanical eyes stare through Kayne. "You're like a skin suit fucking weird man."
"Don't you like it? I made it myself." Kayne giggles.
"Maybe if I keep staring, my eyes will malfunction. Isn't that how you freaky gods work anyhow?" Tim sounded bored now. "Eh fuck it I'll be in the kitchen." He walks away.
"Excuse me." Kayne snaps, causing all mechanisms to fall into a pile right by Arthur. "I don't care what you are, but since you're being a bother, how about a little trip." He snaps again. "Have fun with yellow." And they all vanish. "Now Arthur back to our little conversation.... why are you laughing?"
John is snickering. "They've been asking to go to the dreamlands since we got here!"
Arthur waves his hand calming down. "Ok, I'm ok." He starts to laugh again. "The King is going to be pissed."
"I know!" John laughs along.
Kayne rubs his face. "Fuck this, John is using your soul to fix himself to become a god himself. Will you survive who fucking knows just get me some books from the King's library and I'll separate you." He snaps and Arthur vanishes. "Fucking ruined my entire thing assholes."
.......
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