#in fact it was john who made the first move

[sorenevans]

Adding my own OC!

Elana “Dixie” Delaney

Her mother and father met through the military. Her mother was from Northern Ireland, and her father from Texas.

The circumstances of their meeting cannot be shared, but Elana could guess it had something to do with a tank.

Elana parents were never married, and they broke up sometime before her 5th birthday because her mother wouldn’t stop taking unnecessary risks in the field-She was very successful, and highly decorated because of it- and she wouldn’t commit to home life with Elana. Her career mattered more.

Because of her parents split nationality, Elana has duel citizenship.

Because of her mother’s unwillingness to give up her career, Elana went to live with her father’s family, on a ranch in Texas.

Her father retired from the military and took on a somewhat more stable job as a police officer.

Elana always knew what she wanted, She wanted to do what her father did. So from a young age, she trained.

Shooting club and ROTC were her thing! She rocked it and ended up winning multiple prestigious awards and titles-

But what really made her stand out was her experience with first aid, and medical care in general, and her affinity for technology.

For her 17th birthday, her father went with her to enlist. Her recruitment officer was honest when telling Elana that there was little to no chance she was getting into the America special forces,and that her efforts were better applied elsewhere.

After a long conversation with her father, she decided to take advantage of of her duel citizenship, and enlist in Northern Ireland, where she would be more likely to be accepted into the special forces.

After a few years of grunt work, Elana was transferred to a base to begin special forces training. Little did she know, her mother was Captain on that base.

After finding out about her connections and her parents background in special forces, paired with the thick Texan accent she’d gotten from the years growing up with her father, she earned the nicknames “pedigree” and “Dixie Dog”. She hated them for demeaning her and every bit of hard work she’d done to get this far.

After a few months of nonstop arguing, she goes to her mother, the Captain.

Because of the nuclear argument they have, Elana decides being in this base is a conflict of interest, and requests a transfer.

While the transfer was being processed, Elana’s team was sent to assist a task force. When the team was there, she patched up some loudmouth Sargent, then focused on creating a distraction so the teams could leave the site.

She broke into the intercom system and got ready to play something.

A glance at her team, all scoffing g and rolling their eyes, tells you she’s done this before. She presses a few buttons on her tablet and “play something country” by Brooks and Dunn starts playing over every speaker, enemy comm- Even the cell phones! Elana smiles. Her team groans. They start calling her demeaning names again, but she just plasters in the most sweet smile.

With a sweet Texan voice she pushes out a “bless y’all’s hearts.” And they move under the cover of the sweet music of her home.

It’s later when the loudmouth Sargent, and the quiet Lieutenant tell their captain about the “aggressively American” woman that helped them.

John price does his research on this mysterious American and upon finding out she’s Irish- that peaks his interest even more.

By the end of the night, he decides she’ll be on his team, they need a medic and someone who’s good with tech- she just fit the bill.

And the fact that she’s currently looking for a transfer? Maybe fate has a cruel sense of humor.

-OoOoO-

Soon after she joins the 141, her call sign changed from “Dixie dog” to just “Dixie”.

She says it’s because she’s from southern America, but the real reason is that it’s an ode to her father, the man who supported her in all her life. The man whom she would not be here without.

i adore hearing about people's cod ocs/self inserts!

so here's mine!

Name: Taylor Starling Callsign: Wraith

Her recruitment into Task Force 141 didn't come easy. Nor did getting her to cooperate with the US Government in the first place. She wouldn't be here if prison wasn't the only alternative.

Taylor Starling, expert codebreaker and stealth operative, was arrested for committing treason at the age of 24. The company she worked for went down with her. 23 men and women who'd been doing good work for the country, domestically and abroad, were suddenly behind bars. "Why?" You might ask. For conducting espionage operations with no authority or permission from the United States Government.

Taylor's life had never been easy. Bouncing around juvenile detention centers throughout her teenage years for silly things like petty theft and the occasional infiltration of a classified government data networks. No big deal. But federal prison is a lot different than juvie.

Then Kate Laswell went sniffing around the recently busted operation; found Starling's file. She was given an option: spend the rest of her life locked up...

or join the CIA.

Not surprisingly, the reckless young woman, deciding that she wasn't quite ready to give up on living just yet, chose the latter. Even if it was hard to understand why they wanted her. Laswell explained that they’d never seen such a talented codebreaker and hacker, especially that young. So Taylor went along with it. After all, she was doing the same shit she’d always done, just for a fatter paycheck and without the looming threat of life in federal prison.

Two years of intelligence work later and Taylor is being approached by none other than Captain John Price. He and Laswell have decided that her skills as a stealth operative have been… underutilized. They want her to join some ragtag band of special forces assholes dubbed Task Force 141.

Let’s just say it didn’t take much convincing to get her back out in the field.

aside from general headcanons and x reader content, I’ll most likely be posting more about this crazy lady because I love her dearly. she literally got shot while pregnant once but no big deal.

[lulu2992]

The first kiss 💕

In the hours that followed the meeting at the 8-Bit Pizza Bar, the news of John being alive reached everyone’s ears in Hope County… including Joseph’s who contacted the Junior Deputy the instant he knew, late in the evening, and requested to see the little brother he thought he had lost. He and Taylor agreed on a truce and that he would visit them the next day. Approximately 24 hours later, she anxiously drove to his compound to pick him up, but his calm demeanor and the fact he apparently trusted her enough to get into her car alone surprised her. When Joseph was finally reunited with John (who had insisted he needed a shirt for the occasion), he hugged him tightly, and Taylor decided to wait outside so they could talk in private in the small bunker she now called home. The Father came out of it moments later, visibly relieved, and told her John would only return to his Family the next morning because there was “no rush” and, that way, they could “sort everything out”.

The Deputy was a bit confused but, as it happened, “sort everything out” they did.

I had 11 “old” drawings to post and this is the 6th one; I’m getting there! My computer says this file is exactly one year old today :)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[baohanhanesel]

Calling them by their Call-signs.

Mentioned: John Soap Mactavish, Simon Ghost Riley

The reader is a civilian. The scenarios are separate. The reader is not gender specific.

John Soap Mactavish

"Soap!" You shouted from the other room, which earned you fast footsteps to the said room. The door was swung open and there stood John Mactavish in all his glory.

You had a basket in your hands, leaning it against your hip and holding it upright.

John was frowning at you, unusually quiet. It was obvious he wanted you to have the first word.

You, all too aware of what you had done with the name-call, smiled innocently and started speaking.

"Do you have any black clothes I should throw in the bin?"

John audibly relaxed before cursing.

"Yer think dats funny, hen?"

"What do you mean, Soap?"

"Nae. Nae. Nae. Dats nae reserved for ya. Not when we're home."

You shrugged. You knew exactly why. Soap was who he was on duty. The man who would kill with orders and clean the field with efficiency. The name meant John was on track. That he was ready to make a run for it. And it being spoken in this domestic setting...? It made him upset. The fact you were doing it knowingly? He was annoyed.

"I don't understand, Soap. Why don't you want me to call you by your name?"

John's eyebrows furrow, and he lets out an exhausted grunt before making his way to you. He grabs the bin and just throws it to the ground before scooping you off of the ground.

You don't act surprised, you were kinda rooting for this. A grin betrays your play of innocence and stretches wide on your face.

"Soap aye? Soap. Fucking Soap? Fine. Let's go w' it."

"What--"

"Let me remind mah name, bonnie. Maybe muscle memory will help ya?"

John throws you on the bed a little roughly, and you can see just how annoyed he is.

"Wait John--"

"Och, it is John now? There we fucking go. Told ya muscle memory helps."

You grumbled, face incredibly red and a smirk accompanying it.

"Wait where are you going?!" You sat up abruptly, about to stop John because he made a move to take a step away from the bed.

"... Aye ah wasn't serious... Ah would never initiate without... ye ken... That's nae very... okay ta just throw ye like that cause lil ol' me was pished."

"John if you do not get your hands on me I swear to god---"

"Do nae have to tell me twice."

You add the clothes in the bin after.

Simon Ghost Riley.

You grab the remote and raise an eyebrow at Simon. He isn't looking at you, he is looking at his phone; scrolling away.

"Hey Ghost, you won't watch with me?"

Simon snaps his head up the moment the name is out of your mouth. He stops. Looks at you with widened eyes and a piss poor expression. What did he do?

"Sorry, love. Yes, yes I will."

"Hop close big boy." You pat the spot next to you and Simon plops himself right next to you. What did he even do?

He just sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and looking at the screen.

"Ghost, you think we got popcorn?"

"What did you just call me, love?"

"Ghost? Your name?"

Simon frowns. His blonde lashes flutter aggravatedly. He huffs in annoyance and slowly wraps a strand of your hair around his point finger.

"Since when I am Ghost to ya?"

"What are you saying?" You fake innocence, but don't make the mistake of looking at his face. You can't. You know how upset he must be- how annoyed he must look.

Ghost is, well, the Ghost. Ghost is cold, he is a weapon. He is a man who dug his own grave and crawled out of it like the legend he is. He is no man. He is more than that. Simon thought he had told you that. That the Ghost wasn't meant for your lips. He was always Simon with you in his house. He'd never dare to look at you when he is Ghost. When he is dirty, when he is corrupt.

The dark memories make him frown deeper. His eyes darken noticeably and you think about giving up on this name calling here and now.

"Ghost?" Simon parrots, then he laughs.He laughs, with tears in his eyes. "You think that's funny?"

"You are laughing...?"

"Call me that again."

"Simon, love--"

"No, none of that. Call me by my name."

"Are you sure I--" You turn to look at him. That's not the reaction you thought you would be triggering.... You clear your throat. Asking if he is sure is stupid. "Ghost."

"That's it, you want the Ghost?" Simon hooks his fingers all around your hair and grabs a fistful.

"Ghost, please, I was just joking." You are sweating. You look into Ghost's eyes; they are not as bright. His thoughts are not very bright either...

He grabs your hair and makes you face him, rotating your head however he likes gently with the grip he has on your hair. His lips catches yours, and immediately drowns you into a deep kiss.

The dark thoughts, the memories... All of them flicker away as if your lips was all he needed all along. His mind clears, and he can't even feel anything but a strange giddiness. He doesn't let it show on his face, or the pace of the kiss.

When you part away, you pant for air. Your lungs are burning and heart is skipping multiple beats. "My love..."

"Shhh shhh..."

It is no surprise that Ghost is a petty man. It is a surprise that it is turning you on. You swallow hard, his hand pulls your hair and positions your head however he likes. He has a go at your neck, down your collarbone and all under your jaw.

His heart is light, his mind is empty. He smiles as he presses his lips all over your warm skin.

You stop when Ghost has left your torso bare of cloth.

His eyes search for a hint of discomfort in your body, he finds nothing akin to it. Not with you. Never with you.

"Are you mad at me?" You barely manage, mind too foggy.

"I am having a good time. Are you mad at me?"

"For pulling my hair?"

"And for stripping your chest bare."

You laugh, holding his face in-between your hands. "I am having a good time, Simon."

"Y'know... I don't mind being the Ghost with you."

"No?"

"No."

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: stuck at the chateau with jj— who hates you— during a hurricane turns into a night you definitely didn’t expect.

— pairing: jj maybank x kook princess!reader

— warnings: smut! 18+ hate sex!! dub con, fingering, protected sex, degrading, hair pulling, choking, spanking, some language, jj is a so mean in this. i think that’s all.

↠ note— i literally found this in my notes from back in June lmao. thought i’d finish it and post it.

❥ the storm— j.m

“i’m not afraid, sare! i just don’t necessarily like storms. i don’t understand why you and john b. couldn’t stay here tonight”

a sigh leaves your lips, fingertips pushing the thin curtains of the room you’re in to the side as you watched the rain pour down, the trees roughly swayed from the strong winds as booms of thunder and cracks of lightning fill your ears.

sarah chuckles. “y/n/n you’re going to be fine! besides jj is there too, why don’t you go hang out with him? the storm should be passed by morning”

you groan, letting the curtains fall from your fingers. quickly turning your body, you make your way toward the bed, tossing yourself back onto the mattress as you roll your eyes.

you’d gladly hang out with jj, but he hated you. you never understood why, but he always acted like he would rather be anywhere else when you were around.

“jj hates me, sare. you know that”

the sound of john b’s voice and sarah’s giggles fill your ears, making you roll your eyes again.

“he doesn’t hate you! he just doesn’t like kooks, so he’s taking his time on warming up to us”

boom!

a loud rumble of thunder causes you to slightly jump. you completely throw the fact that jj hates you out the window and jump up from the bed, slowly making your way toward the door. “okay sare, i’m going to find jj, y’all have a good night”

sarah says her goodbyes and you hang up the phone. you slowly pull open the bedroom door, slipping out of the room in search of jj.

you make your way down the small hallway and into the living room, finding a shirtless jj standing at the screen door of the house as he watched the storm roll in.

you find yourself staring at him longer than you probably should, but you couldn’t help yourself. you had thought jj was attractive from the moment you first laid eyes on him, and how couldn’t you? he was beautifully tanned and toned, his back muscles contracting with every move he made, his messy blond hair framed his face perfectly, his perfect plump, pink lips, and his eyes. his bright, ocean blue eyes could make any girl melt.

but you would never openly admit any of that.

“hey j, can’t sleep either?”

your voice startles him, making him jump and turn to face you. his face quickly turns into a look of annoyance when he sees it’s you, not like he could see anyone else, you’re the only two here.

he turns back toward the door, his focus back on the storm outside. “what do you want?”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair and sitting on the old couch.

“i just couldn’t sleep, it’s really coming down out there huh?”

jj groans, resting his head against the screen door before he pulls back and turns to face you. “are you really trying to make small talk with me right now? you and i don’t get along, so let’s not pretend we do”

you scoff, turning yourself on the couch and sitting on your knees to face jj fully. “you don’t like me, i try to be nice, but you make it so goddamn hard when you act like you can’t stand me!”

jj opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it when a loud rumble of thunder shakes the small house. you jump slightly at the sound, your eyes going wide as you frantically look around the small house, cursing yourself for coming here in the first place and getting stuck overnight with jj fucking maybank.

jj notices your tense demeanor, snorting out a laugh as he smirks in amusement. “you’re seriously scared of a hurricane? haven’t you like lived here your entire life?” he pauses, snapping his fingers in mock realization as he laughs darkly. “oh wait, that’s right. kook princess is used to her generators and big fancy house on figure eight, never been stuck in a small house on the cut during one of these i assume?”

you sigh exasperatedly. “why are you such a dick, jj? what the fuck have i ever done to you?”

“i just don’t fucking like you”

you groan, pulling yourself from the couch and making your way into the kitchen. you pull the fridge open harshly, grabbing a beer and popping it open. you bring the rim to your lips, taking a long sip from it before harshly sitting it on the counter. “well good to know. i don’t fucking like you either, you’re a complete asshole who thinks he’s some hot shot because he’s attractive, but newsflash, you’re not special jj”

jj’s head whips in your direction, his eyes narrowed toward you. he takes a few long strides toward you, making your breathing accelerate the closer he got. your bodies were so close together you could feel his breath fanning over your face, and you were sure he could hear your heart rapidly beating in your chest. you swallow thickly, straightening yourself and locking your eyes with his.

you gasp loudly, your hand hitting the counter and knocking your beer bottle onto the floor when he wraps his large hand around your throat, squeezing so tightly your vision began to instantly blur from the tears forming in your eyes.

“and you’re a fucking kook princess who thinks the world revolves around her. you think everyone has to fucking like you, but newsflash. you ain’t special either, princess”

you begin clawing at his hand, trying to pry him off of you, but he was much stronger than you. you whimper as he squeezes tighter, his fingers surely bruising the skin of your neck, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched you struggle under his hold. you tried to get words out, wanting to beg him to let you go, but you couldn’t breathe, much less talk, due to the grip he had on you.

“what was that princess? i didn’t quite catch that”

you dig your fingernails into the back of his hand, leaving half crescent shapes in the skin. you use your free hand to continue pushing at his chest, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you felt your head becoming fuzzy from the lack of oxygen.

jj finally releases your throat, pushing you back into the fridge when he does. you begin gasping for air, trying to suck as much oxygen as you could back into your lungs. “what the fuck jj? are you fucking psychotic?”

you begin rubbing at your throat, trying to ease the sting from where his hands were. another gasp leaves your mouth when jj is in front of you again, bodies so close you could feel his bulge against your thigh through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. he takes his hands and tightly grabs your arms, turning your bodies and pushing your back into the countertop, more pain shoots through you from the impact.

“you really need a fucking attitude adjustment, princess. and i think i know just how to fix it”

your breath hitches in your throat as jj inches his face closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours. you’d be lying if you said the aggression that spewed from him wasn’t a turn on to you, the ache between your legs and arousal pooling into your panties an obvious indicator that you were in fact turned on.

“what- what’re you gonna do? hmm? i bet you don’t even know how to properly fuck a girl” you spit out, your noses brushing over one another as you keep your eyes locked on his.

this just made jj even angrier, he places his hands back around your throat, smashing his lips against yours roughly. you let out a strangled moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth, using the grip on your throat to pull you further into him.

you melt into him for a moment, your lips moving fervently with his. it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, the feel of jj’s hard cock pressed firmly into your thigh making you wetter, needier. he releases your throat, running his hands up the sides of your face and digging his finger into your hair, tugging at it lightly.

your mind begins racing, your senses finally hitting you. you push jj off, slapping him across the face, his head whips to the side from the impact.

“i’m not sleeping with you, jj”

jj slowly turns his head toward you, bringing a hand up to rub at the spot you’d just slapped. “oh yeah? i’d bet you’ve soaked those pretty little panties of yours, why don’t we find out, hmm?”

you begin rapidly shaking your head, biting down on your bottom lip so hard you taste blood. you try to push past jj’s body, but he has you caged in, your back firmly pressed against the counter top. jj’s hands fly to the waistband of your sleep shorts, pushing a hand down and into your panties, his thick fingers running through your slick folds making your head throw back in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut as you try and stave off your moans.

“what’d i say? you’re fucking soaked, your pussy is begging to be fucked by me”

a small whimper escapes your lips when jj shoves his index finger into your soaked core, thrusting it in and out of you slowly as his dark eyes stay locked on yours. you could see the enjoyment on his face, he enjoyed watching you fall apart for him, he loved the control he had over you in the moment.

and as much as you wanted to push him off of you, tell him to go fuck himself, you were enjoying this too much.

“jj” you breathe out, chest heaving up and down.

he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, shoving another finger into your cunt. he begins harshly thrusting them in and out of you, his palm firmly pressed against your clit.

you feel your orgasm building inside you, the band threatening to snap when he curves his fingers slightly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that no man has ever found.

“i-i’m gonna cum, jj. fuck, s’close!” you whine, grinding yourself against his hand, chasing your high as he pushes his fingers roughly into you. you begin clenching around his fingers, your release threatening to burst out of you.

jj stops, pulling his fingers from inside you and sucking them clean. “mmm, the princess tastes so good, who knew?”

you throw your head up, eyes narrowed toward him in annoyance. “jj what the fuck, why’d you stop?!”

jj chuckles darkly, his hands flying to the back of your hair as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan against his lips when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he pulls your lips from his, holding your head back as his dark eyes burn into yours. “bratty little sluts like you don’t get to cum that easily”

you pout. “but-“ you begin but your words die on your tongue, jj’s tight grip on your hair pulling a whine from your lips. he begins pulling you to the couch by your hair, your legs failing to keep up with his long strides causing you to stumble and trip over your own two feet.

jj tosses you onto the couch, a dark laugh falling from his mouth as he watches you stare back at him in frustration.

“take your clothes off, now”

you hesitantly pull your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor in front of you before you move to pull your shorts and panties down your legs. you feel your face heating up, feeling a little too exposed in front of jj for your liking.

jj sucks in a sharp breath, his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scanned the length of your naked body.

he takes a step toward you, making you flinch and scoot yourself further into the couch. you weren’t afraid of him, but after the way he’s been all night, it was out of instinct to flinch away from him.

“don’t be scared, gonna fuck the attitude right out of you, and then we can go back to acting like the other doesn’t exist, got it?”

“o-okay”

jj pulls at the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them down his legs and kicking them to the side. your eyes go wide when you see his impressive length pressed against his thigh through the fabric of his briefs. you’d always heard rumors about jj’s size, but seeing it for yourself, he looked much bigger than you’d expected.

jj leans forward, gripping at your arms and yanking you upright. he pulls you to your feet, sitting on the couch and patting at his legs, making you cock your head to the side in confusion.

“c’mon, lay across my lap”

you do as he says, laying your body across his lap. you weren’t sure what his plan was, but you were too turned on to care, whatever he had in store for you would be worth it.

slap!

you wince, the feel of jj’s hand landing harshly on your ass making you whimper. “what’re you-“ slap! jj’s hand lands another harsh slap against your ass, tears forming in your eyes from the pain left behind.

“just a little discipline, you need to learn not to talk back all the fucking time, not to have such a fucking attitude”

he lands another harsh slap to the other side of your ass, the burn you felt from his hands making tears flow quickly down your face.

jj begins rubbing at your ass, his large hands kneading at the flesh. you sigh in relief when you think he’s finally done with the spanking, but your mind goes blank when you feel him land yet another rough smack.

he pulls you up, sitting you on the couch and wiping his thumb across your cheek. “stop fucking crying”

you sniffle, nodding your head and wiping your tears away from your face.

you watch as jj makes his way toward john b’s room, returning quickly with a condom in hand. you watch in awe as he slides his briefs down his legs, his large cock springing free and slapping at his stomach.

“stop staring, princess. s’not nice” your eyes meet his, an amused smirk on his face when he sees the look of fear in your eyes. he strokes himself a few times before he rips the foil packet open with his teeth, sliding the condom down his length and stepping toward you. “it’ll fit, don’t worry. and if it doesn’t, i’ll make it fit”

you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head as you watch him fall onto the couch. “come sit on my cock, want you to ride me”

you stand from your spot on the couch so quickly you trip over your own feet, stumbling forward, hands pressed firmly into jj’s chest. you throw one leg over his waist, straddling him and gripping his cock in one hand. you begin grinding your hips over his length, a low groan pulled from him.

“stop fucking teasing me, i don’t want to have to hurt you again, but i will”

you nod your head, reaching behind you and grasping his cock in your hands, stroking him softly and lining him up with your entrance. you push the head in slowly, gasping when the thick head pushes into you.

jj groans. “fuuuck”

you fully sink yourself onto him, a loud moan falling past your lips. you dig your fingernails into his shoulders, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you sit still, trying to adjust to his size.

jj grips your hips, sliding you up slowly before pushing you back down harshly. your breath hitches in your throat when the head of his cock hits your g-spot. “fuck, jj, fuck!”

he lands a slap to your ass, a whimper falling from your lips at the action. “move, now” jj demands, both his hands landing harsh slaps to your ass cheeks again.

you quickly do as he says, bouncing yourself up and down his length. the sounds of both your skin slapping together, soft whimpers and loud moans fill the room.

jj runs his hands from your hips to your ass, gripping at the flesh hard, landing smacks as you continue to bounce yourself up and down. “such a good fucking slut, bouncing yourself on my cock, the cock of the man that fucking hates you”

you whimper, jj’s cock pushing into you so deep you could feel it in your stomach. the head of his cock continuously hits at your sweet spot, the band in your belly begins to tighten, your vision blurred with tears. “jj, i’m gonna cum- fuck! i’m gonna cum!”

you hear jj tsk, his hands making purchase on your hips again as he stops your movements. “you don’t fucking cum until i say you can, got it? brats don’t get to cum whenever they fucking want”

you whine, your hand slithering between the two of you, fingers finding your clit instantly. you begin rubbing slow circles around your sensitive bud, trying to chase your orgasm despite jj’s telling you no.

jj’s hand grabs yours, pulling it from your clit and twisting your arm behind your back. “are you disobeying me, princess? i would recommend you not do that”

jj begins pounding his hips up into yours, his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot, a string of curses and moans falling from your lips at his continued abuse to your cunt.

“such a tight fucking pussy. who knew the girl i fucking hate would feel so fucking good” jj groans, his voice low and raspy.

he begins placing sloppy kisses around your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. you feel his thrusts getting sloppy, letting you know he was close to his orgasm. “j, can i please cum? please” you whine, tears flowing down your face from the pressure you felt between your thighs.

jj sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his dick stiffening as he bursts into the condom.

“fuckfuck, go on, cum. be a good slut and cum all over me”

his words were all it took to send you flying over the edge, your release bursting from you in body shaking euphoria.

“jj, shit, feels so fucking good jj” you cry out, his hips pounding into you a few more times before he goes limp beneath you.

you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to slow your breathing. jj slaps at your ass, making you lift your head as he lifts you from his lap, tossing you to the side.

jj chuckles, standing from the couch and pulling the condom off of himself, tossing it into the trash. “thanks for that, i’m gonna sleep good now”

he opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and opening it. he takes a long sip as he makes his way back into the living room, grabbing his underwear and sweatpants from the floor and slipping them back on.

“we don’t talk about this, ever. got it? it was just.. hate sex? someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. this changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you”

you sit on the couch, tears beginning to fill your eyes again as you stare at him in shock. you felt dirty, used, hurt. he just fucked you for fun? he still hated you? you were regretting your decision to sleep with him now, even though you never fully said you wanted to, you never said no, never stopped him.

jj laughs darkly at the expression on your face, taking another sip from his beer, his head shaking in amusement as he disappears down the hallway and into john b’s room.

you bring your knees up to your chest, letting silent, choked sobs escape your throat. jj fucking maybank. this changed everything, and now, you fucking hated him as much as he hated you.

jj masterlist | taglist form

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 3)

When you woke up, it wasn't that much later. Maybe an hour later at most, which was normal for you. You weren't a heavy sleeper, but to be fair, hard to find any heavy sleepers in the foster system. You also hadn't moved an inch from your position during your light sleep. The bed almost looked like it was made, except for the small imprint of a person on top of the soft blankets.

The room was the same as it was before, the door was closed and the curtains drawn, none of the foster parents came into the room after they left you to unpack. Well, "unpack". You didn't really do that, you kept your clothes inside your backpack and the backpack safely tucked under the bed.

Just... precation.

The house was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you immediatly shuffled over to the door and opened to try and pin point where anyone could be. It wasn't hard, you could faintly hear low voices downstairs, where you think it's the kitchen. You don't really remember much from the tour.

You weren't sure what to do now, but you just closed the door behind you quietly as your feet, padded by only your socks since you left your sneakers by the bed, gently made their way back down stairs. The voices only got clearer as you made your way down, getting closer to the kitchen that smelled extremelly good, close enough, in fact, that you flinched for a second as soon as you heard a loud, booming laugh.

"Oi, ya prick!! Stop that!" The scottish guy, the werewolf, yelled, laughing.

"Shhhh, the chick...!" The harpy quickly reprimended, even tho he was also laughing, much quieter.

"Not a chick, are they, Garrick?" A low, low voice sounded it out, and due to process of elimination, it could only be the wraith. Simon, if you remeber correctly. He looked so serious when you first saw him, but his tone now sounded just amused.

"Oh, please, you get what i mean..." The harpy scoffs, sounding amused as well. "What do you call a human chick?"

"Not a chick, that's for sure." Johnny laughs.

"Isn't it just like, 'baby'?" John suggests, apperantly shrugging a bit.

"I'll call 'er pup!" The werewolf immediatly ignores John's words, only for them all to start laughing.

"Such a little fledgling..." Simon sighs after they all quiet down a little. "I'm not sure how to take care of a human..."

"Ey, big guy, we'll learn!" Johnny smiles easily, giving one of his mates a heavy pat on the back. "I mean... wee lass looks frail as hell, but... we had babies before. Be a bit more confident!"

"No, I get Simon. I'm worried we might overlook their needs accidentaly." The dragon sighs. "I think I got it, but it still worries me."

You fidget a little on the wall you were leaning against. You wish you could sooth their worries. You didn't really need anything special, humans were adaptive. Very adaptive. You'll fit in, one way or another.

"You heard the social worker." Simon grunts, the sound alerting you for a second. "Call if we need anything."

You can hear the loud scoff John lets out at that, and for a second, the smell of smoke reached your nose.

"I don't need help to take care of my hoard."

The growl made your body instinctively lock up, quiet breathing catching on your throat as your eyes widen for a second. It's only when Johnny and Kyle laugh that you manage to calm down a little.

"Daddy Price is not one to take advice from others, huh?" Kyle laughs quietly, smooth and gentle voice that only makes the provocation sounds worse.

"Bastard never was." Johnny laughs back, shaking his head in amusement.

"That's it, shut it, the both of you." John growls once again, quieter this time, not really mad, just annoyed at best. "Besides, apperantly, i do know better. That woman brought the hatchling here in this cold wearing only a fucking light jacket."

"Dinner is ready." Simon's heavy voice announces, interrupting the banter. "Who's gonna call the fledgling?"

"ME!"

"I can go."

Both Johnny and Kyle glared at eachother as they spoke at the same time, which only made Simon grunt.

"Kyle can go. Fucking mutt being all loud like this is gonna scare off the fledgling."

Another growl sounded out, this one, different from John's. This one was Johnny's, and made you terrifed all the same as you made your way to the living room on the other side of the stairs, your pace just a little bit desperate thanks to the growl and the fight.

Thanks to your human nature, you couldn't really tell it was more of a playful growl than an annoyed growl. (They were also not figthing, that's just the way they spoke with eachother, but you just got here, don't expect to know that yet).

Your eyes fell into the cozy living room. It looked... mostly like normal living rooms, but you could still see some kind of... nest thing to the side, close to the fireplace, with confortable pillows and blankets. The couches also had a lot of them. You didn't know they liked confort that much, but you suppose it's not... a bad thing.

"They're not-!"

You startle immediatly at the half-shout, turning around to make eye contact with a slightly desperate Kyle, giant wings opened in despair as his feathers perked up. As you both stare at eachother in alarm, his wings started to close behind him again, feathers still looking just a bit frazzled.

"Oh, hatchling, don't scare me like that..." He crooned softly, crooned, eyes going all gentle as he approached.

The croon caught you a bit off guard as you kept your guard up, eyes wide still looking at his direction. You didn't hear these weird noises often, even if you had basically only hybrid classmates at school. The croon sounded weird, but also... soft. Conforting, you could say.

"I though you had left." He murmur quietly, kneeling in front of you to try and get closer to your height. It didn't work very well, as he was still bigger even tho he was kneeling. If anything, it only made you more scared. "You're a quiet little thing, huh? Don't be scared, baby, i'm safe..." He crooned again, all soft and gooey.

Like he wasn't being all snarky and ironic with his mates just seconds ago.

Freaking... wolf in sheep clothing........... and he's not even the werewolf.

You finally managed to calm down a bit, as you breathed in quietly and nodded at him, curling just a little bit into your own body. You could see his wings shuffling at his sides, hands opening for a second before they were forced into fists quickly (before they could reach for you).

"We have dinner ready, sweetie. You'll like Si's food, he's a very good cook. Well, we all are." He smiles a bit, like he was boosting himself as a little joke. "It's cold, so we made stew. It's chicken noddle stew, do you like it, baby?"

The... baby voice, the very subtle baby voice was certainly... embarrassing. Tho, you still nodded quietly at his gentle and quiet tone, making him smile a bit bigger.

"Let's go eat then, uh?"

He murmured gently, giant hand with talons closing around your much smaller hand, so small it was completely enveloped by his warmth. You didn't really want to hold his hand, but he didn't give you much option, as he got up, still slightly bend down, and gently tugged you with him to the kitchen.

You followed.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Catch My Breath

The first kiss.

Set in Christmas Eve 2022, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC), Alejandro Vargas Word Count : ~ 9600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Dont forget to come to cpt prices house today.’

You : ‘Of course not. I’m still at the orphanage for christmas gifts exchange. As soon as I'm done I'll be there :)’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Good’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Gaz is making some bangin biscuits and scones’

Jade smiled at her phone as she chatted with Soap. Her mouth already watering from imagining the taste of Gaz’s cooking on her tongue. According to Soap’s and Ladybug’s testimony, his chocolate biscuits were second to none.

You : ‘Wouldn't miss it even if I die.’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Alright. See ya.’

She bit her lip. There's one more question she wanted to ask though. She contemplated asking Soap this or not. 

Her thumbs moved across the screen slowly. 

You : ‘Is Ghost coming?’

When Soap had invited her to the dinner five days prior, all Jade could think about was whether or not Ghost would be joining. Their one week together in Las Almas made her feel… something. Something really, really good. Something she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He earned a friend in Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Ghost, especially, whom she’d thought of as a real piece of work back in Verdansk. Oh, how foolish she was. 

He was the best part about Las Almas. 

Dammit. What was she thinking?!

By the end of Chicago, after they eliminated Hassan, Ghost and Jade had traded phone numbers. Jade had his numbers and named it “💀💢 Beanpole 💀💢”, after the nickname she gave to him before they knew each other’s name. They haven’t texted at all. Ghost wasn’t the kind to text first, that much was clear to everyone who knew him. And neither was Jade. In fact, she didn’t know what to text him first. A “hi”? A… 

What else? 

What do people text each other when they’re trying to get to know each other? She had no goddamn clue. Well, she knew what to text when she wanted to get intel from an unassuming target, but she didn’t want intel from Ghost. 

She just wanted to know if he was okay, if he was fine, if the gash on his shoulder was healing well. Because of course, in her 29 years of life, a serious romance wasn’t a luxury that she could afford in her line of work in MI6. She took that lesson from her parents who literally had to ‘die’ first in order to even start. The point is, none of them texted first. They’re just another series of numbers in their contact list. 

An animation of dots showed up, indicating that Soap was typing. 

He’d typed for a few seconds before the animation stopped for a moment, and then started typing again. He must be changing his response. 

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘If there's food he should be there.’

Oh? ‘... should be there’. That meant Ghost was not with Soap at the moment, and he didn’t know whether or not Ghost would be coming along. A week in Las Almas was enough for Jade to know that Ghost had grown closer to Soap as a friend-brother figure. The fact that Soap might not know his whereabouts was not a surprise, though. He’s the Ghost after all. 

But she couldn’t help but think, where was he? 

What did Soap type?

“Chacha! Can you help me a bit here? We're about to start the event!” 

Jade looked up from her phone, her ginger hair falling on her shoulders as she tucked her phone back in her pocket, swiftly walking over to one of her co-workers, Esther, an elderly soft-looking lady who volunteered for the orphanage - her former orphanage. This place held a lot of bittersweet memories, and it made her who she was. 

Her legs brought her to one of the high ladders leaning onto one of the walls of the dining hall. She took many mistletoes from the decoration boxes and swiftly climbed the ladder, hanging the vegetation one by one with ease. 

“Do we need this many mistletoes?” Jade asked while her hands worked. “At this point we’re gonna kiss someone by accident.”

“Of course not, what are you talkin’ about?!” Esther’s loud laugh almost broke Jade’s ears. “It’s Christmas, Chacha. The church had an overflow of mistletoes from the donations. If there's a day where we can add as many mistletoes as we can, it’s now. Let's call the kids over.” 

“Alright. Let's start this shall we?” 

—

The sound of Jade’s boots rang throughout the pavement as she hurried over to Price’s house. She travelled by public transportation from Surrey as she didn't have a car with her (plus she’s not much for driving safely - fake driving licence and… all that). She looked down at her watch to see 7 PM as the cold night finally settled. Each of her breaths turned to clouds in the air, shivering as she didn't have her outer jacket with her right now. She’s never one to be unprepared, but after one of the kids got too excited about getting a Lego toy and spilt a whole glass of apple juice onto her jacket, Jade had to fight through the cold with her trusty turtleneck and only one layer of thin knitted jacket as an outer, clutching the soaked coat close to her chest.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Jade reached the front of Price's house, immediately knocking on the wooden door three times. She looked up at the massive three-story building made out of bricks, that had a good space in the front yard. The building looked old like a family heirloom, but she could tell that it was pretty much taken care of. There’s a pair of trees that had shed all their leaves for the winter and had a decent amount of vegetation on either side of the doors.  

Jade looked back at the front yard. There were three cars parked in front, and she assumed that one of them belonged to Price, the other two should belong to either Gaz’s, Soap’s, or Ghost’s. 

The wooden door opened. She expected Price as the owner of the house to welcome her, instead, it was Eleanor, Gaz’s very own Ladybug who immediately screeched on top of her head. “JAAAADEEE!!! You’ve finally arrived!” The medic bursted out of the door hugging her figure so tight Jade might’ve folded. A beautiful burgundy sweater around a tan shirt wrapped her figure perfectly, and of course, with her wavy dirty blonde hair tied on the back with the ribbon Gaz gave her, worn out as it could be.

“Hey Lady! I miss you so much!!” The ginger greeted warmly all the while trying her best to stay balanced on her feet or else she’d fall five steps down to the ground on her back. As Lady pulled away, she gave room for Jade to step inside the warm house, taking a glance at Jade’s look. 

“Whoa. You only wear two layers? You’re shivering!” 

“Yeah. Apple juice all over my jacket, but don’t mind it.” She chuckled as she took off her jacket and coat to hang them on a standing coat hanger on the side of the door, “Have the others arrived?”

“You’re the last one. I came early with Kyle to bake the cookies and help Price with the food. Soap came second bringing sacks of snacks and drinks, and Ghost had just arrived before you, about 45 minutes ago.”

That caught Jade’s attention, her heart beat a little faster just at the mention of his name. “Just? Isn’t the Captain’s invitation at 5 PM?” 

 “Yeah. It looked like he was coming back from somewhere though.” 

Somewhere?

Lady’s eyes half blinked, looking at her teasingly. “...Am I sensing something here?”

“What? No. No. It's just that he’s um… usually an on-time kind of man.” Jade tried her best to act indifferent, looking away from her to observe the doorway decorations.

“Oh really? I see, I see.” Ladybug nodded, “Because I might have heard some stuff from Kyle~” 

Jade’s eyes opened wide at the statement, her mind already racing at the thought of what Gaz had said to his girlfriend. “What did he sa–”

 “There’s me trusty Ginger!”

A voice which she could identify from a mile away as Soap’s, called to her. Donning the green military-issued sweater above his uniform, which he rolled to the elbow, he walked in both women’s directions with a chocolate biscuit in hand. 

“Well hello there, Ocean Eyes.” Jade softly hugged Soap’s ever-bulky body while he patted her back several times. “How's your arm? Healing well?” She remembered how Soap got shot by Graves in Las Almas and how both of them, along with Ghost, had to survive the Shadow’s manhunt in the city. Even in Chicago he had to force through it. 

“You’re one to talk. How's your side?” Soap pointed at her left side while munching through his biscuit.

“You got hit?! Where?!” Ladybug, who’d been in Urzikstan to help Farah and Alex for nearly a year after Barkov’s demise, hadn't been updated much about Las Almas. Looked like Gaz left that tiny little detail. 

“She did get hit.” 

“No! No no. I didn't get hit per se. We were… breaking into the Las Almas prison to free Alejandro and the Vaqueros - a little bullet missed my hip, but it did leave a teeny tiny graze.” Jade made a little gesture with her thumb and index fingers.

“It wasn't.” Soap retorted, which made Ladybug look even more concerned. “You almost fell from the prison walls during our escape and LT had to catch you and carry yo–”

“ANYWAY.” Jade tried to dismiss the conversation away from Ladybug’s growing unease. “It was quite literally us four against a thousand. So we had our own hits. It was a month ago, right? I literally walked my way here! See? Now. Where's the man of the house?”

“Thought you want to camp in that doorway.” Price's gravelly voice called from the living room, his head peaking out from one of the walls. “Come in and close that damned door will ya? The forecast said it’s going to rain snow unless you muppets want to shovel the snow.” 

With Jade closing the door, they all walked together towards the interior of the house, where the warmth from the fireplace radiated throughout the room cozily. And holy shit. The word ‘family heirloom’ could perfectly describe the house. Some of the furniture looked like it was carved specifically for the house, soft carpets covered some parts of the wooden floor, and portraits of whom she assumed as the former Prices hung on the walls. The exterior of the house didn’t do the property justice at all. Soap had said that this was the Captain’s own house which he’d left mostly abandoned since he resided in Herefordshire. She wouldn’t lie, if Price turned out to be a secret old money she wouldn’t be surprised. 

Jade’s eyes found Gaz at the kitchen island wearing the same exact outfit as Soap and Price, but with an apron around his waist while he pulled out another batch of chocolate cookies from the oven. Gaz noticed her presence when Ladybug approached him and pointed her way. “Oh, Jade! Come here and eat the salmon. You’re not allergic to fish aren’t you?” This sight of Gaz was pretty surprising for her. He seemed more cheerful and open around Ladybug, contrasting to his serious demeanour in the field. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Jade put down her bag on one of the sofas where Price sat on the edge of it, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands skilfully. “Nope, no allergies. Have all of you eaten yet? Sorry I’m late.” 

“We have, and apparently my Ladybug over here is a vacuum cleaner of food.” Gaz was replied with an elbow to the rib by his partner. 

Taking her own plate of baked salmon, Jade watched from just enough distance as Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ladybug played a game of poker on the desk. The atmosphere was tense from the rivalry but hearty at the same time, their laughs filled the room as Price caught Soap hiding a card on his sleeves, which resulted in a 50 push-up penalty for the Scot. Apart from the chaos, Jade couldn’t help but find herself trying to find that one particular big man. 

The memories of sharing sleepless nights together on the rooftops of Fuerzas Especiales base rushed down her mind. Those moments made up the few moments of peace that they could muster up from the chaos of Las Almas. Just the both of them, the night sky, two cups of tea, and the lights from the city of souls. All those times they spent together completely with his mask on. Only when he decided to take off his mask in front of the 141 and Vaqueros did she ever see his face. 

She’s good with faces. That’s an absolute requirement for her job. That image of his face was ingrained in her brain. How the black paints surrounded his surprisingly soft eyes, how the sun reflected his whiskey brown eyes and light eyelashes, the scars on his cheeks from wearing the mask, and his strong jaw. 

Jade only wished she could enjoy the actual sight of it once more. 

The former MI6 turned her head a number of times, making up blueprints of Price’s residency inside her mind. This house didn’t have a rooftop, and from the looks of it, all the bedrooms are located on the upper floors. Ghost likes looking out at the scenery, so he might’ve gone upstairs, broke into one of the many bedrooms and looked out on of the balconies as he sipped on a cup of tea. Considering how Ghost was, he’d break into his captain’s house without anyone knowing about it just fine. 

All the while the others were playing, Jade finished her plate of grilled salmon and found her way towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. She came the latest, the least she could do was helping cleaning the kitchen area. That task came to a halt when her phone vibrated. She was confused at first, but when her eyes read ‘Col. Vargas 🤠’ on the screen, Jade immediately accepted the video call. 

“Hola, Coronel! Como estas?”

“Hola, Compa! Muy bien, muy bien.” Alejandro's gravelly voice greeted her excitedly as his video showed on Jade’s screen. She could tell that the sun was still up in Mexico judging by the light on his face. He looks like he’s standing just outside his family’s house. Quite rare to see the colonel in other attire than his military ones, but as Jade saw his blue shirt tucked inside his blue jeans, she couldn’t help the snicker that came out of her mouth. She remembered that Alejandro had revealed to her privately that he had two beautiful daughters who lived in Mexico City with their maternal grandparents. “I’m in Mexico City with my family to celebrate Christmas. We’re about to head to church for the Christmas Eve sermon.” Alejandro continued in Spanish, but something caught his eye. “Wait, Jade. Where are you? Is that Soap?”

Jade lifted the phone above her head to help him see the place clearly, “Yes, that’s Soap, Captain Price, Gaz, and that’s Eleanor, Gaz’s girlfriend.” She said in his language. Her fingers pointed at each soldier as they slammed their cards on the table, chaos ensuing in the middle of them. “This is Captain Price's house in London. He invited us all for dinner, and now that it’s done, they’re playing poker, aggressively.”

Now it’s Alejandro’s turn to laugh. “I’m assuming they’re on their second bottle of whatever alcohol they’re consuming.”

“Yep. Looks like Captain Price is richer than he lets on. He has 4 bottles of wine from the 1800s! Can you believe it?!” 

Jade and Alejandro continued their video call, sitting in her former position on the sofa. Despite Soap’s slight dislike that they were conversing in Spanish as he couldn’t understand what they were talking about, Jade kept on going. Jade learned that Rudy stayed in Las Almas to rebuild and restore the city after the Shadows wreaked havoc, encouraging Alejandro to leave the city and unite with his family. 

“So. Onto the most important topic…” Alejandro’s voice sounded deeper and his eyebrows lifted. Jade had learned after a thrilling week working together that those were a sign that he was onto something cheeky. “Where’s the Ghost?” 

Again, Jade’s heart beat faster at the mention of his name, and her stomach grew warmer. Damn it. “Um, I don’t know where he is. He is here somewhere in Price’s house, but… I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He’s there? Have you tried the rooftops?”

“This house doesn’t have a rooftop. It does have a lot of rooms with balconies, though. But I didn’t see any open window from the outside.” Her head started to look side to side, “ I don’t know if this house has a back or side entrance, he might be somewh– Alejandro!!” Jade stopped when she realized that Alejandro was laughing his belly off. 

“You’re looking for him too, don’t you?” The colonel guffawed. “Aaah, You should’ve seen your face when you were explaining where he is to me.”

“That’s–” 

“Look. I wished you luck with him back in Las Almas. It’s only natural that I asked for ‘updates’!”

“Keep fighting the good fight, hermano.”  “To the bitter end, my brother.” Soap handshook the Mexican colonel and sergeant as they were about to leave Las Almas. He then turned around and tapped Ghost’s shoulders twice, heading towards the rear end of the aircraft to unite with Price and Gaz. The lieutenant though, stood still on the tarmac a few steps behind Jade.  “Good luck amigos y amiga.” Jade hugged Rudy warmly, tapping her back a few times before holding out her hand to handshake Alejandro. Instead of a handshake, Jade saw a wide grin on Alejandro’s face and opened his arms wide, indicating that he was waiting for a hug as well. “Come here, Hermana!” Jade chuckled, expecting that a handshake wouldn’t be enough for the Mexican. She obliged by stepping forward and warped her arms around Alejandro’s figure.  What Jade didn’t see though, was how Ghost’s body tensed slightly behind her. Alejandro sneakily observed the man’s movement, looking visibly uncomfortable. No matter how skilled Ghost was at appearing as still as he could, Alejandro could see that this skill of his just disappeared when he was in Jade’s presence. Before Alejandro let go, he lowered his voice and spoke to Jade’s ear. “Que te vaya bien con el fantasma.” ‘Good luck with the Ghost.’ Jade blushed profusely when she translated that sentence in her mind, stepping away from the hug to punch his shoulder lightly “ey!!” She looked over to his side, finding that Rodolfo was also grinning ear to ear.  “I mean it, Jade.” Alejandro spoke in Spanish, tilting his head as a sign that he was serious. Jade’s head nodded in surrender a few times. As much as they wanted to converse more, her job wasn’t over yet. Her legs started to walk backwards, “Gracias, Alejandro, Rudy. Cuidate.”   Alejandro observed as she turned around, finding Ghost’s waiting figure right in front of her. She then tapped his chest plate once, jogging her way towards Price, Gaz, and Soap on the aircraft. That sight made the colonel scoff, glancing at Rudy, who looked as amused as he was. Just as Ghost was about to turn around as well to join his teammates, Alejandro called to his name. “Ghost!”  The lieutenant turned around.  “No te pierdas carnal!” “A huevo!”

“The both of you have forced me and Rudy to watch a telenovela the entire time! Please tell me that you’ve at least done something together after Chicago.”

“We traded numbers…” She said nervously.

“And then? Did he text first?”

Jade grimaced, expecting that Alejandro wouldn’t react well to her next response. “We… haven’t texted at all.”

“NO MAMEEESSS!!” Ale facepalmed on the video call like he just watched the Mexican national football team fail to score a goal in a World Cup match. “Ghost… I swear… you need to do better.” 

Jade stood up and walked over to the kitchen aisle yet again and put her phone on a leaning position on the wall, hoping that Alejandro’s shout of despair didn’t reach the other soldiers. “Well– what if he doesn’t want to continue this… whatever’s going on between us?” she grabbed a white mug and a cocoa mix, putting in 3 spoons of the choco powder inside. “You’ve seen how he is. I don’t want to hope too much.” Jade confessed to the colonel, pouring hot water on the mug and stirring the contents with a spoon until the sweet aroma hit her nose.

“Oh you don’t know that yet, right?” Ale replied, “Do you want to have a relationship with him?”

A relationship with Ghost? 

That sounded crazy to say, but if she's being honest with herself, yes. Yes, she did. 

“Yeah…” She started to walk towards the hallway on the side of the kitchen with the warm mug. The walkway looked narrow and led to the rear side of the house. She guessed that if this conversation was prolonged, they were going to need a place where Soap wasn’t shouting his lungs off. Her green eyes looked to the end of the room, where a wooden door similar to the front door was present in front of her. A back door perhaps?

“Okay. Now one of you needs to start. Ghost clearly isn’t starting because he’s a stupid, bad man. But maybe you can convince him that you’re worth his time.”

Worth his time? “How?” 

“Start by finding him.”

The former MI6 walked towards the back door and glanced over the glass parts where the outer side of the house was visible. Just then, she registered a man with a large frame, sitting on the stairs of the back porch. He wore the same attire as the rest of the SAS members - their military uniform covered with a military-issued sweater, and layered further with a familiar black jacket that she’d seen before in Chicago. The man had a mask over his head, but she could see that it was currently lifted up as he took a sip of what she assumed was bourbon. 

That’s definitely Ghost.

“Jade? What happened?” Alejandro asked curiously as she stopped speaking earlier.

“I found him.” She muttered.

Alejandro’s lips curved, slowly forming a smile. 

“The floor is yours, Jade.”

—

*5 hours earlier*

Johnny : 'LT. You’re coming, right?'

Ghost looked down at his phone, staring at the message that Johnny had sent him, not planning to text anything back. 

He hated Christmas. No, he didn’t hate decors, the bright lights, the red, green, and white that coloured the streets and buildings around him. No, he’s not petty like that. He’s indifferent to it. 

What he hated was how the month of December always reminded him of the darkest part of his life. 

He lowered his phone and tucked it inside his pocket, going back to the sight of his family’s gravestones right in front of him. His mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. 

Ghost remembered the blood; the foul stench hitting his nose as he stood frozen, witnessing the lifeless bodies of his family – all surrounded by the colourful lights of red, green, and blue from the Christmas tree that they were decorating. If only he realized sooner that his enemies wouldn’t settle with torturing him. If only he wasn’t so naive and thought that his battles were done as soon as he was home. How wrong he was. 

How fucking wrong he was. 

Ghost’s tears had dried out a long time ago. Every Christmas Eve he always visited their graves. He’d cry for the first three years, but now he’d settle with staring at the stones, not a word coming out of his mouth. Just him, alone with that memory.

His phone vibrated again. Johnny’s still messaging him about the dinner at Price’s house. Ghost closed his eyes in annoyance and sighed, taking his phone and turning it on to find a few messages.

Johnny : ‘Captain said not to disturb you during Christmas week’

Johnny : ‘Idk what you’re doing now’

Johnny : ‘but I hope you’re enjoying yourself’

Ghost moved his thumb on the keyboard screen, wanting to text Johnny that he was not coming and to stop messaging him. 

Johnny : ‘Also’

Johnny : ‘Jade’s coming’

His thumb paused right above the send key. 

Fuck. 

Why did his heart beat faster suddenly? What was this warmth in his stomach? His memories of his family’s death disappeared, and suddenly all the moments with Jade came down rushing through his mind. 

The moment when they met – where they shot at each other in Verdansk, leaving a permanent mark on his left ear – The sleepless nights in Las Almas, the meaningless conversations, their moments in battle together. How beautiful she was when she kept her calm during pressing and stressful situations, the grace in her movements…

Fuck. 

Fucking hell.

Ghost had read Price’s invitation two weeks before in their group chat. He already made up his mind from the beginning that he wasn’t coming. He never really enjoyed parties or any form of gathering at all. That’s how he’d been living for three decades of his life. Why did that one mention of her name from Johnny instantly change his resolve just like that? 

He didn’t reply to Johnny at all, only leaving the two blue check marks indicating that he’d read Johnny’s messages. 

And that… was how Ghost ended up sitting on Price’s back porch. The crescent moon was high in the sky. Little bits of snow started to fall down alongside the windy weather. For the first time of the day, he had his skull-painted balaclava up to his nose in order to take a sip from his glass of bourbon. 

When he had arrived at Price’s front yard with his sedan, Ghost saw the amused surprise in Price, Gaz, and Lady’s faces, but he also took a glimpse of Johnny’s smirk on his lips. The sergeant now knew the way to his heart, and it infuriated him. God damn him.

The sun was already long gone by that time, and he could see that the others were already in the midst of eating their dinner. 

He’d sneakily taken a glance around Price’s luxurious house.

No Jade yet. 

Ghost had conversed for a while with Price, took his own plate of baked salmon, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and excused himself to the back door. For an hour and a half, he sat right there, slowly sipping on his alcohol. Just as he thought that she wasn’t coming and that Johnny had lied to him, the wooden door behind his back opened.

He turned around and found the woman herself.

Jade. 

Her ginger hair was braided like usual, but stopped on the back of her head, letting the long hair run freely down her back and shoulders. The deep red turtleneck which usually looked out of place in warm weather such as Las Almas currently fitted perfectly on her figure. A green pair of wide pants hung from her hip, letting the fabric run freely downwards instead of wrapping around her legs like the jeans he’s used to seeing her wearing during their mission together.

Ghost caught her green eyes, reflected by the moonlight, and he could easily tell that she wore some sort of makeup. What the name was he couldn’t bother to remember, but she looked… beautiful.

His heart was already beating pretty fast from the alcohol, but now it’s going even faster, and don’t even start about the butterflies that were flying rampant inside his stomach right now. 

She only stared at him, her breaths turning to cloud along with the vapour from the cocoa mug she was holding. For a few seconds, they stayed like that, until Jade finally started.

“Why aren't you inside? It's cold.”

Can you miss someone’s voice? Apparently you can, judging by the unexplainable sense of relief that washed over him after he heard her voice. The last time he heard her voice was back in Chicago, a month ago. He then turned around again, facing Price's plain backyard to try hiding any signs from his exposed mouth that she might read. The former MI6 had this scary skill to read every body language of any person. Sure, he had a mask up to his nose, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

“I don't like parties.” He replied.

“It's cold.” 

“Better than whatever's going inside. And I have my friend right here to keep me warm.” He slightly lifted the bourbon glass, shaking it slightly to make the content swirl.

Jade hummed. She observed his glass and noticed the alcohol. For all their nights in Las Almas, Ghost always drank tea, never alcohol. Of course, they were in active duty, so drinking liquor could cost them so much, but he'd said himself that he pretty rarely drinks, since Ghost had confessed that he liked being in control of what he did. She wondered why he was drinking, but she let it go. Instead, Jade stepped two stairs down, and sat beside Ghost’s left, drinking her own cup of hot chocolate.

“Why are you here?” Now it's Ghost’s turn to start. 

She wondered how to answer that. If she's being honest, the answer would be ‘to be with you’, but she deleted that response in her mind.

“I… don't really like parties.”

“…You don't look the type.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘my’ type?”

Ghost took another sip from the glass, “Likes being around people. Gets your energy from a communal space.”

The former MI6 scoffed. “Fooled you right there. Maybe it’s just me, but being around people automatically sets me in observation mode. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. It’s just tiring.”

“Hm.”

Another few seconds of silence, before she continued. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Gets noisy inside, especially if Johnny's starting to lose his grip on reality.” Ghost immediately answered, almost like he expected Jade to ask him that. “He’s a screamer.”

“Hey how's your graze wound? It's healing well right?

Jade suddenly asked, which surprised Ghost. He glanced at Jade, finding the woman herself looking straight into his brown eyes. He should admit, her face so close to his caught him off-guard, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, creating a cloud in the air. Ghost then took a sip from his glass again before answering. “Yeah. I changed the dressing every once in a while. It's just a scab now. “ To be honest, he kind of forgot about the wound on his right shoulder. It was disgustingly painful during their time in Las Almas and Chicago considering how he must carry the chestplate and his gears on that shoulder. The memory of Jade tending to that wound of his at the safehouse came rushing down his brain.

“Okay, that's a relief then. Just make sure you don't scratch it or it'll open again.”

“I know the drill, Midget, I’m not a kid. This isn't my first rodeo. What about you?”

“Wh-what about me?”

“Your hip.”

The former MI6 sucked both of her lips between her teeth. “It’s fine.”

“Fine how?”

Jade now looked at Ghost’s brown eyes, intensely gazing at her own. He wasn’t taking ‘It’s fine’ as an answer. He was always an intense person. She suddenly remembered the feeling of being safe in his hands when he carried her towards the van, arms under her shoulder and knees when she couldn’t bear the pain in her hip any longer. 

How Ghost had slept the whole night, in a sitting position on a chair beside her bed in the safehouse with his mask on, staying right by her side.

“Oi. Midget. I’m asking you.”

That snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh? Yeah! It’s a bit itchy at times, but I can manage. It’s healing well.”

That answer seemed to finally satisfy him. “Hm.”

Jade went back to her hot chocolate, but Ghost didn’t leave her. He could see her shivering a little bit in the cold. The tip of her nose and ears had turned rosy.

“You cold?”

“Hm? No! No, not at all. Why?"

“You're shivering. And where's your jacket? A single layer of sweater won't help with this fucking weather.”

“Well– About that. I was at the orphanage for Christmas gift trading earlier before coming here. One of the kids got… too excited and spilt apple juice all over my jacket, so I had to take it off.” She admitted. 

“What, you're gonna freeze yourself to death here? It's 1 degree out.”

“I don't want to be insiiiide.” Jade whined, almost childish. A sight Ghost would never admit he found cute.

“Your survival instincts are out of the damn window. I thought you were a seasoned MI6 black agent.” Somehow he found more ways to ridicule her.

The ginger scowled, pouting her lips before standing up “…Whatever, I'm going inside”

“Fuckin’ hell– stay. Stay here. Sit back down.” Ghost’s swift hand grabbed her forearm a bit too harshly, prompting her to balance her hand as a drop of her hot chocolate spilt out to the white snow below. 

“Why? You want me to freeze to death?” Regardless, she sat back down, closer to his body now.

“You're the only company I've got that isn't annoying. So stay here.” Ghost unexpectedly moved his arms to take off his black jacket, revealing his green sweater underneath, and much to Jade’s surprise, his arms loomed over her and rested the dark clothing around her shoulders. Her bewilderment failed to hide itself when his hand patted her shoulder a couple of times to set it in place. “There. Better?”

Wow. It’s… warm. And most importantly, It’s his warmth. 

One of her hands left the warm mug, softly tracing her fingers along the hem of the jacket to tuck it closer to her chest. “...Better.”

Shit. Ghost didn’t know the sight of Jade beneath his jacket would create more butterflies to fly like bees inside his stomach. In an attempt to suppress it, he sighed, leaning back and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. 

…before he opened his eyes, finding a mistletoe hanging right above them, placed neatly. And purposefully. It’s like a damned grenade trap. “…Fuckin’ hell…”

“STOP SWEARING!!” Jade exclaimed, annoyed at his shortage of vocabulary. “You've said those words twice in the same mi– What are you looking at…?” Jade looked at Ghost, who was leaning back while his head hung backwards on his neck. 

She looked up as well, finding the mistletoe that made him swear. “…oh, blimey.” There was not a single Christmas decoration on the back side of the house but this one. Price was a person who had a high attention to detail, but Christmas decoration was not one of them. Heck, he barely decorated the house at all. That thing was hung far too strategically.

Both Ghost and Jade were thinking of the same thing.

Soap. 

Ghost sighed, “Just ignore it.” 

“But it's bad luck though.” Jade thoughtlessly said.

“You don't really believe that, do you.”

“Well I don't! It's hanging vegetation. Still, I'm saying it could be true.” Her hands gestured at the mistletoe above her.

“What, you want a kiss?”

The woman gasped, almost offendedly. “HUH? KISS YOU??”

“Who else is underneath this fucking mistletoe?” 

She joked, trying desperately to hide her panic at the thought of kissing him. “A ghost.”

“Fucking funny. Also what's with you? It's just one kiss.”

Jade stopped speaking. Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “Um…. I just don't…”

Confusion fell down Ghost’s half-masked expression, quickly reading her reaction, until he got to the conclusion. “...Don't fucking tell me you haven't had your first kiss yet.” 

When he saw how Jade couldn’t respond anymore, Ghost pinched his forehead.“Bloody hell... Then why did you say you want it?!”

“I NEVER SAID I WANT IT??? I just said that the bad luck thingy could be true!”

“Well fuck us for five hundred years then!” 

“DAMMIT– OKAY!! KISS ME!”

Those words perplexed him, not realizing that he was practically glaring at her that his eyes might come out of its socket. The ever-present black paint around his eyes didn’t help to ease the tension either. Jade herself didn’t know which thunder slapped her that she said those words. She wasn’t the kind of person to just spout things without thinking of the consequences first. 

Ghost observed Jade’s face, trying to read her expression, to see whether or not she was joking or serious. Because in the deepest part of his heart, he’d hoped that she was joking. But even deeper, he hoped that she wasn’t. “…you don't mean that.”

Jade wondered if her mouth had disconnected from her brain. What she was saying came out literally the opposite of what her instincts were. “You heard me. You can kiss me. Just a peck though.” What was she thinking? This was NOT what she wanted to say. Or was it? “How many women have you kissed?” Aaand now she’s prying onto his past? Great job, Jade. 

He used to be young, that’s for sure. Despite his father and brother mocking him and his mother for it, he used to go to school and met a few women during his learning days. Only two of them, though, and that was all before he got into military. He didn’t know what commitment was back in the day, and his ‘girlfriends’ didn’t know that either. “...a few.” 

“Were they experienced?”

“Probably so.” 

Okay, so he had some experience. That somehow made her feel easy. “Well… I have zero experience on the act. So… be gentle, okay?”

“…Fine.“ Ghost breathed as he put down his almost-empty glass on the stone staircase behind him, finding Jade doing the same. 

The coldness of the wind prickled her skin, making her realize that this was not a dream. He’s about to kiss her, and it’s from a mistletoe. Out of nowhere, she remembered the overflow of mistletoe that the orphanage received earlier. Could that be a sign? Either way, she snapped back to her current state, where Ghost was visibly looking at her lips, and that sight made her heart drum twice the speed. At this point, she might explode. “Okay. So… what do I do? Do I tilt my head a little, or do I open my lips just a little bit? Should I lean in to kiss you too?  Or like–”

“Just. Stay. Still.” Ghost shut her up before she could blabber more.

“Okay okay okay”. 

Jade watched Ghost secure his mask up to his nose, revealing his mouth. When she glanced at his lips, Jade could see a tinge of red on his cheek, but she could dismiss that as a reaction to the cold or from the alcohol he was drinking. When he leaned in slowly, Jade could see him so close, the closest he's ever been to her. His eyelashes were longer than she's ever realised, fluttering against his skin, the little healed scars on his face–

Jade sucked her lips into her teeth, "WAIT WAIT WAIT." Making the man flinch and pull away in confusion.

 "What?! Do you wanna do this or not?!" Ghost exclaimed.

"I do, I do! It's my first time! Just–”

“I said all you need to do is stay. Still.”

“I've never done this before, literally! I'm 29 and I've never kissed someone!”

Ghost fell silent as Jade hid her face on her palm.

“…I have never fallen for anyone before.” She confessed. “I wanted my first kiss to be with the one and only, and now… “ Her hands wildly gestured to the mistletoe above them, “someone happened to put a mistletoe right above us.”

Jade was a lot of things. A formidable fighter, a dependable ally, a brave operator who’d jump from a cliff with you, a spawn of the devil herself when she does her thing. However, at that moment, Ghost didn’t see any of those at all. All she saw was a vulnerable woman, curled up in a ball because she couldn’t fathom the concept of a single kiss.  

After a few moments of him letting her collect her thoughts, Ghost muttered, “…Jade, if you're not ready, then we can just pretend that it doesn't exist. You don't have to.”

“You know what?” She tapped both of her knees with a considerable force, like she just made up her mind about something. “I gotta start somewhere right? Besides, when I finally kiss my man, I need to work on my kissing game.”

Ghost couldn’t help the scoff out his mouth. And… ‘her man’, huh? That could be a dream. “'Kissing game'?”

“Yes! Gotta…know what it feels like, at least?”

Ghost observed her expressions yet again. The woman in front of her was looking at him like she’s about to surrender her life to his hands. What, was he about to shoot an apple above her head? To him this was just a kiss after all.

Or was it?

Jade wasn’t his girlfriends during his younger days. She’s an extraordinary woman like no other. 

“…Okay. Look. We're gonna do this slowly. I will do all the work while you can just stay there. Does that work with you?” Ghost started, looking at Jade in the eyes.

She put on the bravest face she could muster up and proceeded with a nod.

“Say it.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, because of course, it wasn’t enough for him. 

“Okay, Ghost.”

“Good. Close your eyes, Jade. Just calm down. Trust me.

As she closed her eyes, she breathed the cold winter air deeply before letting them out. Now that her vision was no more, her other senses had heightened. The sharp cold air stabbing her skin, the smell of hot cocoa on her hands, the faint scent of something that could only come from Ghost's jacket wrapped around her shoulders. 

For a good amount of time, she didn't feel anything other than her surroundings. Jade was expecting something on her lips. Anything from the man that was sitting right in front of her, but none came. She was about to open her eyes and call his name, until something touched her chin, lightly lifting her head to face upwards. And just then, Jade finally felt a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. His lips stayed there only for a second before they parted with her skin, yet it felt like she longed for it for more than eternity. No one has ever laid their lips on her skin before. No one. 

What she was expecting was something on her lips, not her forehead, so when Jade was about to open her eyelids, again, he stopped her by putting his fingers on her left cheek, tenderly sliding them from her rosy cheek to the back of her ear, taking the stray strands of her red hair with them. The hands that killed, that murdered many so more could live, were gingerly touching her face with an unexpected amount of softness. She didn’t know his hands were capable of doing such delicate movements, and neither did he. 

Before she could register what was happening, she felt him getting close again, and for the second time, her expectation betrayed her when Ghost kissed her cheek, just right under her eye. The kiss lasted longer than the one on her forehead, yet Jade couldn’t find any reason to complain. If anything, she wanted his lips to stay on her cheek longer than that. To feel him closer, to feel him more. 

Ghost’s fingers moved on backwards from behind her ear, going through the wilds of her undone hair and finding its place on the back of her head. Heart racing, Jade was expecting another kiss that was not in the designated place. However, when his deep, raspy voice softly said to her, “I’m going to kiss you now.”, she found herself giddy with her eyes closed. Part of her wanted to open her eyes and see what was going on right in front of her, but the other part stood strong against it, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

So when she felt him closing in, Jade gave all control over to him. She relaxed herself, letting Ghost gently pull her head closer to his, to at last, close the distance between their lips.

 It was the softest, slowest kiss possible, filled with unsureness on her part, yet with a sense of certainty and confidence from him, and because of that, Jade let him do his part, leading the kiss to the point that it was enjoyable and… lovely. 

The kiss lasted for only a mere 5 seconds at most, but it felt like hours. Ghost reluctantly pulled back and saw that Jade had already opened her green eyes. Her face was painted with shyness and shock, a pleasant one, as she saw that Ghost had removed his mask entirely, his face right in front of hers, his brown hair still a bit dishevelled from removing his balaclava.

Jade was a heavily trained warrior and an exceptionally skilled individual who stayed calm in times of distress and emergency on the battlefield, a force to be reckoned with, and could be an absolute menace when she wanted to be. Now, seeing the same woman like this – dazed, wide-eyed, a blushing mess, and taken aback by a simple kiss – The sight made him smile softly. 

If only she'd known how long he'd wanted to do that to her.

Palm still resting on the side of her neck, he asked her, “How was that for a first time?”

Jade looked like a robot losing its ability to function. There were no words in her brain to respond to his question. Scratch that. It looked like she didn’t even register what his question was. 

Seeing her so flabbergasted made him let out a deep chuckle. “Midget. I’m talking to you.”

That bastardized nickname snapped her out of her thoughts, making her blink rapidly, seemingly trying to sort her jumbled brain. Jade looked at the man who just claimed her first kiss right in his dark, brown eyes. 

He’s still right in front of her, face looking at her delightfully with a sweet smile, not like the usual dark, ready-to-kill gaze. It’s almost like looking at a different person entirely. 

“Uh… Umm–” Jade couldn’t form words.

Another chuckle, “You okay?”

"...this is a weird request, but" A pause, "Can you… do that again?"

Never in a thousand lifetimes, he would ever expect that answer from her. "...You want me to kiss you again?"

"Yeah. Can you do that?" She spoke with a low voice. "Please?"

His eyes opened wide at her request. Confused, but amazed at the same time. Did that request mean she liked it? Her expressions said that she did, though. Or did she just want to make sure? Nevertheless, Ghost decided to oblige and leaned in again to kiss her. 

Jade closed her eyes again and felt his lips against hers for the second time that night. His kiss was as soft and as tender as the first time. This one, though, she decided to take in the feeling of his rough lips, the way he tilted his head to fit hers, the way his large hand lightly pulled her in and softly kissed her. All the sensations she felt from his actions became ecstasy.

Her hands lifted their way up to find Ghost's cheeks. Jade could swear she heard a small gasp from the man. Fingers gliding along the side of his face, she could feel his stubbles grazing her skin. It was such a surreal sensation, to think that this is the face of the man who got branded as a ghost, a myth, who wears the mask to hide who he is. Right now, she's having her palm on the skin of his face, and he allowed her to. 

No one had touched the skin on his face in years. No one ever managed to get their hands on his face save for enemies who sought to kill him and punched his mask before meeting their demise with his knife. The only form of touch he remembered was of his father, who was all but loving.

With the tip of her thumb, Jade traced the scars on his face. Her warm hands instantly built a gentle fire on his skin. The feeling of such a tender touch was almost like meeting a stranger to him. But if it's a stranger, why did he find himself missing it so much? Why did he yearn for it so? Her touch ignited a warmth that he never knew he needed. 

At that time, the woman he was kissing felt more like home than anything and anyone ever did. He felt like he could just melt right there and then. Here Ghost thought that he was the one kissing her, but now it was like she was the one casting some sort of magic spell on him. 

Soon, their hands moved, Jade’s hands left his cheeks and found his wrist who was holding the back of her head. He almost forgot the feeling of someone’s hand on his own, but before he knew it, he felt her other hand grasping his sweater, right above his heart, crumpling the cloth. As they went on, he couldn’t just stay still anymore. Ghost’s other hand also found its way to her back, lightly pressing on her. He wanted her closer, he needed her close.

Ghost snapped himself out of his thoughts and pulled back, catching Jade off guard. 

The both of them looked into each other's eyes as they caught their breaths, not noticing that they'd been kissing for the last minute. Faces extremely red from racing hearts and rushing blood, clouds of cold air escaping their mouth from the cold, for a moment they thought they knew this was just because of a single mistletoe, yet deep down, they knew this was something more. 

Not hearing anything from one another, Ghost took his hand back from her neck and waist as Jade parted her hands from him to her lips with her hands. 

The man spoke first, "You need more?"

"Yes– I mean– No! That was enough." Words stumbled their way out of her mouth. "Uh… So… that happened. I just had my first kiss."

Ghost couldn't help the smile, "I just stole your first kiss."

"No. You didn't steal it." She denied, "If anything, I'm glad you are my first kiss."

Hearing those words, Ghost could feel his heart racing again, the world suddenly felt warmer. 

"I'm sorry you have to kiss me, though. You've always hated me." Jade continued with a laugh.

"Who says I hate you?" 

That made her look at him, and what she saw was the most gentle face she'd ever seen him. Again, she didn't know he was capable of that expression. "If I hated you, I wouldn't ask you to stay, wouldn't I?" 

That's a true statement. "You're right. So we're past the "stay away from me" phase now?" 

"Our first meeting was in Verdansk. Situation was out of control and we were off to a bad start." He explained, "And we just kissed. We're way past that now."

Smiling, Jade pursed her lips before saying, "So… are we still friends?" 

"Friends?" He glanced at her.

"Yep."

"Friends then." Confirmed Ghost. 

"Who just kissed each other."

"Because someone hung a fucking mistletoe on the back porch." He retorted while gesturing to the decoration above them. 

The woman laughed out loud before looking at the man, who was also having a chuckle of his own. 

That's the first time she heard him – saw him – this happy. Had he always been this… handsome? She'd only looked at his face once before, which was when he revealed himself to the team in the Los Vaqueros safehouse in Las Almas, and then, never again.

But if this was what Jade could see beneath the mask – his happy face, the crows feet on the corners of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning upwards, and the fact that she just learned that he had shallow dimples when smiling – then she wished the mask could just disappear. Forever.

Because after this… he would  put on that mask again. 

This might be the last time she saw him without the mask.

When would she see him without it again?

Out of nowhere, some unexplainable force of will inside her made Jade lean in and left a peck on Ghost's cheek. 

The SAS lieutenant instantly looked at the woman, flabbergasted. 

Jade herself gasped loudly, covering her face in disbelief of her own action. She couldn't see it, but in his eyes, her face was as red as her hair.

Why did she do that? What made her do that?!

They swore it was the most deafening silence in their lives. Both of them stayed like that for a good 10 seconds, seemingly trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Oh my God… OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY!” Jade uttered in absolute panic.

Ghost stayed still in silence, his eyes wide open glaring at hers. 

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He’s mad. HE’S MAD. 

“It– It's freezing! I'm going inside!" Jade scrambled to stand up, taking the cocoa mug with her and went to the doorway, before remembering that she still had Ghost's jacket on her shoulder. 

"Ja- Lottie! Wait–" He was about to stand up to follow her, but his words got cut by his jacket flying straight to his face. When he removed the clothing, she'd already disappeared into the merry party inside. 

Touching the part where Jade kissed him, Ghost slowly stared back at the falling snow in front of the porch. He hadn't worn his jacket yet, and somehow he didn't feel cold at all.

It's so hot. 

It's too hot. 

He buried his face in his palms, before running them through his brown hair. She didn't have to do that, didn't she? There was a mistletoe, they kissed because of it, and that was it, right? 

Then what was that peck for? There wasn't any obligation involved that required her to kiss him again. 

Ghost could feel his heart pumping blood faster than it ever did, faster than when he was on the battlefield, faster than when he ran laps every day. Butterflies were rushing deep inside his stomach, flying all around his insides like it just wanted to break out of his body.

He didn't know why, but if the kiss and her touch were a gentle fire that built slowly, that little peck felt like he just got struck by a damn thunder. 

Violently.

And yet, he was so happy about that little peck - weirdly more so than the kiss - Too fucking happy. 

Ghost grasped the sweater right above his heart before muttering to himself, 

"Fuckin’ hell…" 

Jade didn't melt his cold heart. 

She set it on fire. 

—

Price couldn’t believe the situation he was in.

His sergeants, Kyle and Soap, along with Ladybug, leaning on the back door of his house, looking at Ghost and Jade kissing at his back porch. Fucking spectacular.

“See, Gaz?! I told you–”

“SHUT UP Mate they’re gonna hear your loud arse.” Gaz nudged the drunken Scot’s rib to silence him. 

Nevertheless, the plan worked. Gaz and Ladybug was the provider of the decorations since Price didn’t have any Christmas Decorations in this house in London. When Soap arrived with a mischievous look on his face and told the couple about “Operation Red Skull”, they were automatically IN on it. 

And who would’ve fucking guessed? They made his house a home ground for matchmaking, and they succeeded. They weren’t his best subordinates for nothing after all.

Suddenly, Price heard a loud gasp from the three in front of him. His captain persona suddenly kicked in and stepped forward, shoving both of his sergeants to see the situation clearly.

There they saw Jade and Ghost, looking at each other, with Jade’s face looking like she was absolutely shocked. 

“Oh my God… did she just sneak another kiss to him?!” Ladybug exclaimed with a whispering voice.

“FUCK! I didn’t have a clear visual.” Gaz followed.

“I think it was just a peck to his cheek??” Soap added.

“Everyone fall back!” Price commanded, and just like muscle memory, they all scrambled back to the living room, taking their respective deck of poker cards and sat around the messy table to pretend like they were still playing.

Soon after, Jade herself opened the back door with a face that none of them had ever seen before – a combination of shock and embarrassment.

“Jade? You okay?” Lady twisted her body to see Jade.

The former MI6 nodded uncontrollably like a shaking head doll. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”

Gaz and Soap were covering their mouths with their deck of cards, unable to hide their smiles. It looked like they were about to break into a massive laughter any second now.

What broke it was Captain Price, who suddenly asked Jade,

“Really? What’s that black spot on your nose, then?”

---

YEEEHHEHEEHEHHHEHE. Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it! (❁´◡`❁)

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

[ghostlywhiskey]

john “loves to tell people you’re trying for a baby even though it’s embarrassing to you that people know you’re actively letting your husband hit it raw” price

its the way he doesn’t understand why you’re embarrassed either. the way you’ll gently kick him under the table, subtly pinch his side or eyes widening from the shock he’s telling anyone and everyone.

when you’re alone in the car ride home, one hand on the wheel while the other reaches for the back of your neck to squeeze it loving before he turns you to face him; but his eyes are locked on the road in front of him.

he only looks over when he’s stopped at the red light, looking over to meet your gaze.

“embarrassed to have my kid?” he teases, realizing you’ve been quiet since he’s made the comments earlier that day. he knows you aren’t embarrassed, he’s seen how you’ve reacted every time he tells you he’s going to give you a baby.

embarrassed is the last word that comes to mind. insistent is the first word that comes to mind.

“no,” you murmur, a pout forming on your face due to the fact he thinks that, even if it’s just teasing.

“i’d rather keep it quiet until there’s actually something to show.” cheeks warm at the admission, the possibility of having something to show sooner rather than later making your chest tighten. the thought of having a kid with price instantly forming a small smile on your lips.

and before the light turns green again, he’s pulling you closer to him while he moves to close the gap as well. lips grazing yours briefly before you’re the one to press your own firmly against his. now, he’s the one who can’t help forming a smile.

the sound of a car horn causes the two of you to separate as his hand slips away from the back of your neck. two hands firmly grasp the steering wheel and eyes focused back on the road in front of him.

“i’d rather everyone know you’re the one who is gonna make me a father,” he trails off, glancing at you for a brief moment as he finishes, “sooner rather than later.”

the words you thought quietly to yourself moments ago were now spoken out loud by him; sometimes you were convinced he could read your mind.

“sooner rather than later.” you quietly repeated as you turned your head to look out the window, fingers mindlessly toying with the engagement ring that decorated your hand.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

No one else but you

Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader

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

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

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

-💘-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know that man or something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, there,” he said simply

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Know me well, love, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

-💘-

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

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

“What was that?” Reid all but growled. 

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

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

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

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

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

-💘-

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

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

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

“Yeah, still kicking somehow.”

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

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

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

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

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

-💘-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until she was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That did it. 

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

-💘-

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

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

It wasn’t fair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apart from when he started that fight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t do that,” you moaned.

“Don’t do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it, you thought. 

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

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

“Cheated on you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

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

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

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

“I was with you last, wasn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes…One day,” you smiled. 

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

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

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

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

You moaned.

“Please, daddy...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You took a breath and nodded.

“Words, Angel,” he admonished. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, yeah, I mean- yes. Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, daddy!” 

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

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

“I- um- Daddy, I-”

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed harshly and continued on. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am?” you smirked, relaxing instantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

-💘-

1 week later

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

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

Not much anyway.

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

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

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

At least that was how it was supposed to go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[turcott3]

safety net

jack hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc

positions masterlist!

~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~

-

you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.

“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.

“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.

“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.

“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.

“i’ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.

“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.

“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.

“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”

“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.

“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.

“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”

“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.

“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.

“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.

“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.

“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.

“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.

“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.

“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.

“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.

“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.

“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”

“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.

“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”

“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.

“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.

“is he older or younger?”

“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.

“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.

“can i get your number?” he asks.

“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.

“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.

“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”

“nice to meet you.” you say.

“nice to meet you too.” he replies.

“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.

“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.

“johnny getting some ladies?”

“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.

“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.

“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.

“let me walk you?” jack asks.

“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.

“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.

“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”

“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.

“jack you don’t have to.”

“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.

“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.

“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.

“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.

“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.

dawson: glad you made it back safe!

y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack

dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n

y/n: you too, see you again soon?

dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me

y/n: doubt it

dawson: only bc ill bring jack

y/n: bitch

dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n

y/n: goodnight daws😭

-

you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.

“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.

“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.

“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”

“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.

“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.

“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.

“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.

“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.

“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.

“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.

“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.

-

once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.

“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.

“hello?” you speak when he picks up.

“hey y/n, what’s up?”

“can you come over, i need advice.”

“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”

“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.

“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.

“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“jack is what’s up.”

“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.

“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.

“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.

“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”

“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”

“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”

“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.

“how am i supposed to be calm?”

“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.

“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.

“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.

“perfect.” you laugh.

“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.

jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?

y/n: yes for sure!

jack: ok awesome, see you then

y/n: *loved a message*

you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.

-

it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.

“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.

“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”

“well you never know.”

“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”

“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”

“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”

“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.

“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.

“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.

“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”

“whatever mercer.”

-

“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.

“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”

“yeah absolutely!”

“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.

“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”

“perfect.” you smile to yourself.

“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.

-

2 months later

“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.

“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.

“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.

“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.

“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.

“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”

“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”

“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”

“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”

“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”

“you’re lying but go on.”

“lying about what?”

“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.

“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”

“i think you love him.” he laughs.

“you’re crazy.” you scoff.

“did you listen to anything you just said?”

“what part?”

“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”

“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”

“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”

“well n-“

“THEN GO GET HIM.”

“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”

“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”

“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”

“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.

“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.

“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”

“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.

“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.

“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.

“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.

“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.

“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.

“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.

“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.

-

[roosterr]

love you from afar

note: this has been in my drafts since MARCH. can't decide whether i like it or not lol. @wetsocksinbed angsty fic is up next >:)

pairing: john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 9.5k (oops)

summary: you receive a series of mysterious gifts from a mysterious admirer.

warnings: longing, yearning, pining, best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, heavy on the idiots part, tooth-rotting fluff

ao3

over the last two weeks, you’ve noticed some odd things happening around you; a good kind of odd, the kind that left you thoroughly confused, but was heartwarming nonetheless.

after going back and forth with it in your mind, you've come to the conclusion that you have a secret admirer. it was odd, and a little hard to believe, but it was the only option that made any sense to you. in all honesty, it was probably just your hopeless-romantic heart clouding your mind with optimism, but one can dream.

the first incident was harmless enough, a small inconspicuous gesture that was so subtle, in fact, that you barely paid it any notice at first.

it was the dead of night, and you’d just returned from a particularly gruelling solo mission, uninjured but bone tired and desperate to collapse into your bed and finally sleep. before you could fall into the blankets, however, you noticed through the darkness of your room something strange.

resting neatly on your pillow, illuminated by the dim light of your phone screen, was a single bar of your favourite chocolate. you didn’t remember buying it, and certainly didn’t remember leaving it there, but it was exactly the kind of pick-me-up you needed after the day you’d had. at the time, you’d chalked it up to you simply being forgetful, devoured the chocolate in record time, and promptly knocked out.

over breakfast the next morning, you'd recounted to the others the mysterious appearing chocolate as a funny anecdote; the five of you had laughed about your terrible memory, and you'd moved on. but now you weren’t on the verge of blacking out, you couldn’t help but think of it as weird.

for the life of you, you couldn’t remember buying the chocolate bar, and it didn’t make sense that you would leave it on your pillow like that. what did make sense, however bizarre it may seem, was someone else leaving it for you – but you had no idea who would do that for you, or why. either way, you didn't imagine that anything else would come from it.

the next incident happened three days later.

during training that afternoon, you were in the middle of running laps around base, when you’d – stupidly – tripped over a ditch in the ground and rolled your ankle pretty badly. it hurt too much to put any weight on it, so you’d sat there in shame with no choice but to wait for a few minutes until gaz and soap caught up to you.

as they rounded the corner, you'd reluctantly waved them over with a grimace at how your ankle was throbbing in your boot. johnny was immediately crouching by your side, abandoning the idea of training to focus completely on you.

"christ, what happened?" he fussed, worry creasing his face and making your own heat up under the attention.

"i tripped…" you mumbled, dragging a hand over your embarrassed expression. it was bad enough that you'd made such a simple mistake, but now the man you were crushing on, hard, was lifting your leg so gently and untying your laces and you were certain you were moments away from cardiac arrest.

he'd ushered gaz away to continue his run, telling him he'd accompany you to the infirmary with a tone that left no room for argument. not that gaz would've, the knowing look he sent you as he jogged away told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

after making sure nothing was broken, soap had pulled you to stand with an arm around your waist, supporting you with his solid frame when you stumbled. 

"sure y'don't want me to carry you?" he'd teased, earning a laugh from you as you wobbled in his arms. as you chuckled though, you noticed a hint of what seemed like sincerity in his eyes. you'd felt your face burning again at the implication that he really would carry you, if that's what you'd wanted, and quickly started dragging him along with you in an attempt to hide your flustered state. 

he'd kept his arm around your waist the entire way to the medical wing, only releasing you when you were sat in front of the doctor, which did absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart. to your dismay, he couldn't stay with you – you were still in the middle of training, after all. 

"you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" he'd asked as he left, and the concern in his eyes almost finished you off. you were almost glad he didn't stick around to see the effect he had on you.

luckily, after a quick inspection, the doctor concluded that you only had a minor sprain, and you'd be good as new in a couple of weeks. she'd sent you on your way with an ice pack, a crutch, and strict instructions to stay off your feet.

you would've gone back outside to watch the boys (mainly soap) finish the rest of their exercises, but honestly, the embarrassment of what happened had you wanting to curl up with a pillow over your face for the rest of the day; so that's exactly what you found yourself doing.

you must've drifted off to sleep at some point, because once you finally sat up again, the sun had painted the horizon a bright orange, and your stomach had begun to rumble.

as you went to walk out into the hall, you heard the crinkle of plastic under your boot, pausing you mid‐step. when you looked down, you were stunned to find a bundle of three beautiful white flowers – gardenias, you'd found out after googling them later. an incredibly warm feeling blossomed in your chest, and despite your best efforts, your eyes had welled up with tears. you couldn't even think of the last time someone bought you flowers. there was no note attached, meaning you had no way of knowing who had left them for you, which sent your mind back to the chocolate bar from a few days ago.

so i'm not going crazy, you'd thought to yourself, someone really did leave it for me. but still, you had no clue who this mystery gift-giver could be.

you'd carefully picked them up, being mindful of your ankle, and turned back around to put them in your room. there wasn't really anywhere to put them, so you just set them on the ledge of your windowsill and made a mental note to find a vase for them at some point.

when you eventually made it to the mess hall, there were very few people left, leaving the room unusually calm. ghost was sat by himself at one of the far tables, so you hobbled over on your crutch to sit with him while you ate.

you sat down opposite him, and he'd looked up, gave you a subtle nod, and gone back to eating with his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. the two of you ate like that for a while, sitting quietly in each others presence.

ghost had been the first to break the silence, asking you, "how's the ankle?" as he pulled his balaclava back down to cover his mouth.

"just sprained," you'd replied, looking up to meet his eyes. another beat of silence fell over you, before you continued, "did you see who left me those flowers?" you'd asked him; it was worth a shot, you figured not much gets past ghost. to your dismay, he simply shook his head, standing and mumbling a goodbye as he left.

you were only more confused now. if ghost didn't know who it was – and, granted, you wouldn't actually be able to tell if he was lying, but you trusted him – then who would know? the next day, you'd asked the other boys, but they'd all said the same thing, even the captain. so you were left with nothing to do but wonder who on earth could be leaving you these gifts.

after that, it was another four days until your secret admirer struck again.

you'd been in and out of briefings and debriefings and meetings all day, your mind was beginning to numb with all the information that had been unloaded. you were tired; not quite the same exhaustion you'd felt coming back from your mission earlier in the week, though, this time you were at the end of your rope mentally. there hadn't been a moments peace since you got out of bed, and once that excruciatingly long day was over and you were relaxing in the common room, you'd had no energy to actually engage with your friends.

you were nestled into one end of the sofa with gaz next to you, ghost on his other side, and soap in the armchair with a small book in his hands. they were all chatting, with you occasionally saying a thing or two, but you were mostly just zoned out with their conversation serving as white noise in the background.

occasionally, you'd look up and catch soap already watching you, but he'd quickly turn his gaze back down to his book. his attention caused you to be equal parts flustered and confused. if you'd been any more awake, you probably would've asked him if something was wrong, but you were already having trouble keeping your head up as it was.

once you felt your eyes slip closed one too many times, you'd decided it was time to turn in for the night. with a quick 'goodnight' to the others, you'd made a beeline straight for your room – but it was more of a hobble, since your ankle still required you to walk with a crutch.

that night you'd slept like a baby, waking up early the next morning feeling well rested, and thankfully your ankle had even started to feel better. though you still couldn't join the team's training sessions, you had other responsibilities to fulfil, so unfortinately you did have to get up at some point.

you'd just finished lacing up your boots when you noticed it; a single sheet of paper on the ground by your door, folded once in half so you can't see what's written on it. from where it lays, you conclude that whoever left it must've slipped it through the gap under your door while you slept. you'd picked it up and sat back on the edge of your bed to unfold it, your curiosity certainly piqued. it make you wonder, though, what reason someone could have for leaving you a note.

except, when you'd lifted the page it wasn't a note at all. on the slightly wrinkled paper were a number of beautiful pencil drawings – drawings of you. the surprise of seeing your own face staring back at you nearly stopped your poor heart.

the jagged edge on one side of the page indicated that it must have been torn out of a sketchbook, which had interested you even more. you couldn't think of anyone you knew who could draw, let alone who would have a sketchbook dedicated to it.

whoever made this, it was clear that art was a passion of theirs – these drawings were really good. your hair, your eyes, the subtle expression on your features, every line was expertly crafted. it was incredibly flattering, and admittedly boosted your ego a little with how good those sketches made you look.

as you sat there smiling to yourself, you'd glanced up to the three flowers blooming on your nightstand. like the gardenias, the drawings were from your secret admirer, there was no other explanation; and an admirer they were, it was abundantly clear from these sketches that this person had an appreciation for you, if only from afar.

the drawings had been your favourite so far, but unfortunately, it was almost a week until your admirer made another move.

it had been long enough for you to start walking properly on your ankle again, and so you'd been slowly easing back into your workout routine, starting with your morning run. you'd taken it slow with lots of breaks to rest your muscles, but still decided to call it early, which had you back at your locker earlier than usual. as you were rounding the corner to the locker room, you'd heard the door slam closed and a set of heavy footsteps racing down the corridor. you'd only caught a glimpse of whoever it was as they dashed around the other corner, quick enough that you weren't able to see who it was.

you'd been concerned at first, whoever it was had been in a terrible rush, but you'd quickly shaken it off – it wasn't uncommon for people to be rushing around base, especially first thing in the morning. with your own meeting to get to, you'd decided not to dwell on the strange almost-encounter, and carried on with grabbing your towel from the bench and showering.

as you opened the door to your locker to fetch your clean clothes, sitting front and centre on top of them was something you definitely hadn't left there; a bag of your favourite hard candy, unopened, in the space that had been empty not half an hour before. how did these get here? you'd asked yourself, and you stood there confused for a moment or two before the answer came to you.

of course, your secret admirer. you'd felt the familiar giddy excitement bubble up in your chest at the revelation. it had been a while since the page of drawings had been slipped under your door, and it pained you how the gardenias had begun to wilt already. honestly, you'd been slightly worried that they'd given up, or something had happened to them. thankfully though, they seemed to be doing just fine, and you were too with such a pleasant start to your day.

it wasn't until you were sat in the meeting room, munching on your sweets and waiting for the others to arrive, that you realised.

the person, the one who'd been in a hurry as you got back from your run, it was them; that person was your secret admirer. they had to be, you'd concluded, the sweets weren't in your locker when you'd been in there earlier, and you did cut your run short, so they probably hadn't expected you to return so soon – that's why they'd been in such a rush to get away.

the revelation had butterflies swarming in your stomach, the idea of being so close to finding out who it was that held such fond affection for you sparking giddy excitement in you; but at the same time, it filled you with a sickly apprehension.

the problem was that you already knew who you wanted it to be – you had from the beginning – and you worried that uncovering their identity would only lead to disappointment; because there was no possible way john mactavish could feel the same way you felt about him.

soap had always been nothing short of kind and respectful of you, never stepping over the unspoken line if being your closest friend. sometimes, you can fool yourself into thinking he treats you differently – when he checks in on you after missions, when he always saves you a seat next to him in meetings, when he'd practically carried you to the infirmary, all of it ignited a warm feeling in your chest. but then you think about it a little more, and remember that all those nice gestures, that's just who he is. he wormed his way into the heart of ghost, for fucks sake, it was almost impossible not to like him.

you'd been so lost in thought, that gaz sitting in the seat next to you had startled you back to reality.

"gonna share with the class?" he'd asked with a teasing smirk, gesturing to the sweets sitting on the table in front of you. he'd reached out to grab one, but you'd pushed his hand away and snatched the bag to your chest.

"no way," you'd said with a playful glare, sending a quick smile to soap who'd taken the seat on your other side, "these are from my secret admirer, get your own."

gaz paused. "...your fucking what?" he had an incredulous look on his face, and you'd forgotten that you never actually told the others about it. "soap, you hearin' this?"

soap looked almost panicked when you'd turned to him, but he didn't have time to respond, as that was the moment price had walked through the door and announced the start of the meeting.

"i'll explain after," you whispered to gaz, who gave you a pointed look that said 'you better' and turned his attention back to price. you'd stifled a chuckle and looked back at soap, expecting him to have a similar expression, but he was already facing forward. you'd frowned at this; you and johnny would always whisper back and forth during meetings – a way to keep eachother entertained, as well as an excuse for you to sit close to him – but today his face had an odd air of seriousness to it. oh well, you'd thought somewhat downtrodden, just have to talk to him after.

and that's what led you to the present, where you'd been explaining to the boys everything that has happened over the last two weeks. well, you were mostly telling soap and gaz, ghost honestly didn't seem that interested, though the captain did have a rather amused expression as he listened.

"so you have no idea who it could be?" gaz had turned sideways in his chair, leaning forward slightly with his eyebrows raised. he looked to be in disbelief, and you were almost inclined to feel the same.

"nope, not a clue." you sighed, turning from gaz to look at the others around the table. price was standing with his arms crossed, giving you a similar disbelieving look, and ghost had that familiar unreadable look in his eyes.

"someone went in your room while you were gone?" ghost's low voice caught your attention, "bit creepy, innit," he grumbled, his gaze darting between you and somewhere next to you. he did have a point, you supposed, it was a bit weird.

"well… maybe a little, yeah…" you trailed off. perhaps he had a point, but you found yourself not wanting to believe it; all of the mystery person's gestures had been so sweet, thoughtful, it was hard to think they had any ill intentions.

that, and your heart has already made up its mind about who it should be.

"don't be like that, lt., whoever it is meant well, didn't they?" gaz chuckled, the grin evident in his voice.

"christ…" ghost mutters, shaking his head in exasperation.

"it may be a slight invasion of privacy…" you begin; and it's true, but after the first incident, it didn't appear that anyone had been inside your room again. "but it was only once. and it was just a chocolate bar, it's harmless. besides, are you really telling me you've never been in anyone's room when they're not there?" you continued, earning only an eye roll from ghost.

"and you haven't tried to figure out who it is?" price asks from his position standing opposite you, across the table.

"no, i wouldn't even know where to start, it could be anyone…" you try to think of anyone to suspect, but your optimistic mind only draws one name; the object of your affection, who happened to be sitting directly next to you. unfortunately, the two of you were strictly friends – no matter how much you longed for something more.

"i think you should investigate," gaz's smile makes you think for a moment that he knows something that you don't, but you brush it off. he didn't even know about your admirer until you told him, how could he? it wasn't like they were leaving any hints. "whoever it is obviously really likes you."

"you think?" you unwrap another sweet and pop it into your mouth as you consider his words.

"yeah! and, we could even help you investigate," gaz gives the others a hopeful, if slightly suspicious, smirk.

"speak for yourself…" ghost leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, the picture of uninterested, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"could be a good bonding exercise," price had the same entertained tone in his voice as he looked between the four of you, "any thoughts, soap?"

you hadn't realised until the captain brought attention to him, but soap had been uncharacteristically quiet during all this; since before the meeting, actually. he hadn't said a word to you yet today, which had you a little worried. usually the two of you couldn't shut up when you were together. you turn to look at him, and find him looking wide-eyed back at price.

"i don't– ah, maybe…" he stuttered, looking between price and the table rather than meeting your concerned eyes, "...they're just shy? don't want to be known yet?"

"oh, y'think, mate?" gaz fully laughed at that, sharing a look with both ghost and price that held something you couldn't understand. now you're thoroughly confused.

"well, maybe he's right," uncertainty laced your voice, their reactions throwing you for a loop. "if they wanted to be known, they probably would've shown themselves by now, right?" you turn to soap, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else – but he meets your gaze with a tiny smile.

"so you're not going to investigate?" you look back at gaz, who has that incredulous look back on his face, and from the corner of your eye you see price and ghost both shake their heads.

"they can show themselves when they're ready, i don't want to push them." your mind was made up; if your secret admirer wanted to reveal their identity, then they would, it's as simple as that.

"but–" gaz tries to argue, but price quickly interrupts him.

"right, enough, you lot, clear out, you've all got work to be getting on with." he gestures for you all to stand, and after grabbing your sweets, you follow the others out of the room.

for the rest of the day, you endured endless amounts of teasing from gaz, and he even got some of the people from other units in on it. it had your face burning when they cooed over how romantic your 'mystery lover' was. you could only pray that they got over it soon, in the back of your mind you were slightly worried the attention might scare off your admirer, and you certainly didn't want that. but although you told the others you'd wait for them to reveal themselves in their own time, you'd be lying if you said you weren't practically dying to know who it was.

✹✹✹

"hey sarge," a voice sounds from beside you, drowning out the din of the mess hall around you. turning your head, you see it's a private; one you don't really know, but you give her a polite smile anyway. "i've got a message for you." she continues, producing a folded piece of paper from behind her back.

"a message? who from?" you ask, taking the paper from her when she holds it out to you.

she giggles, giving you a sly smile, "a secret someone," and with a suspicious wink, she turned around and left.

with the note in your hand, you look to gaz and soap, a baffled expression on your face. "does she mean my… admirer?" they both shrug at you, sharing an equally perplexed look between themselves.

"go on then," gaz says, "what does it say?"

you unfold it, and scan the neat handwriting of the message. soap and gaz watch as you read it, their curiosity overwhelmingly present in the way they leaned forward to try and see.

your face falls, and you frown. the note was signed – 'your secret admirer' – but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your heart.

"what's up? what does it say?" gaz notices the change in your expression, standing up from his chair and leaning fully over the table to read the note himself. you hand it to him, your good mood from this morning completely soured.

"apparently it is from my admirer," you begin, not bothering to hide the dejection in your voice, "telling me to meet them outside in five minutes."

the pair don't say anything, too stunned to form words as they continue to frown at the words in front of them. this can't be right, it just can't be, your mind laments, if johnny is sitting here, that that means he's not–

"seriously? just like that?" gaz interrupts your thoughts. he sounded annoyed underneath his shock, and you find yourself feeling the same way. "sorry, but i find that hard to believe – they didn't even leave a card with the flowers, did they? it just doesn't feel right to me."

you look to soap, who has yet to say anything on the matter. he doesn't meet your eyes, boring holes into the table with the anger in his gaze. your frown only deepens at his expression, the look on his face so unlike him it almost has you forgetting all about the cause.

"who knows," you sigh, plucking the note back out of gaz's hand. "this probably won't take long, i'll–"

"wait, you're going?" soap interjects, the frown on his face set much deeper than your own. his sudden question caught you off guard, paired with his irritated expression, and you almost thought he was angry with you.

"yeah, i mean, what's the harm, right? might as well just get it over with." you stand as you respond, folding the note back up. even if you were setting yourself up for disappointment, you still wanted to at least hear this person out; even if it wasn't him.

"what's the harm?" johnny scoffs – at you or at very idea of all this you aren't sure – and joins you in standing up, throwing his arms out with such annoyance, it catches you off guard. he gestures sharply at the paper in your hand, "this– whoever that is, it's pure shite! you can't see that?"

now it's you who scoffs at him; where is this hostility coming from? yesterday he seemed as though he couldn't care less when you were telling everyone about it, and now all of a sudden, he thinks he has all the answers?

"how would you know?" you shove the note into your pocket, your earlier sadness quickly morphing into annoyance.

as you move to walk away, johnny looks like he wants to say something more, to stop you, and you hesitate. you want him to; whoever your admirer was, whoever that note was from, none of it meant a thing if it wasn't him. all you wanted was for him to look at you the same way you look at him. gaz is looking at him too, subtly gesturing for him to do something, but he doesn't speak, doesn't meet your eyes as your face drops again.

"exactly, you don't. i'll be back in a minute." you huff, and without another word from either of them, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the mess hall.

it's safe to say your mood had swiftly and effectively been ruined. the disillusionment of realising that your secret admirer was someone other than johnny was one thing, but his sudden attitude towards you was the final straw. your face was decidedly sour as you trudge through the corridors, still with a slight limp which was only fuelling your annoyance for how your day was going. 

the cool air of the courtyard makes your skin bristle as you push the door open, taking a moment to survey the area as you stand in the entryway. to the left stands a lone figure, and you recognise his face, but – like the private from earlier, who you assume is his friend – you can't remember ever having spoken to him. with a deep sigh, you blink away bitterness in your expression and make your way over to him.

his grin is wide as he shamelessly checks you out while you approach, and you instinctually cross your arms over your chest. you come to a stop in front of him, frowning in a look that you hope screams uninterested.

"hey, sarge." he has an overly confident air to him as he speaks, shuffling closer under your scrutinising stare. of course he wouldn't take the hint.

"so it's you, then?" you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion. you just wanted this to be over with, but it seemed luck just wasn't on your side today.

"it's me," he confirms, the blinding grin still plastered to his face as he inches even closer, "you surprised?"

"yeah, actually. i didn't know you were an artist." you reply, voice flat, and you watch him blink once in surprise. you raise a brow at his bewilderment, your patience already wearing painfully thin. he chuckles awkwardly in an attempt to hide how you so obviously caught him off guard.

"ah, yeah i uh–" he stutters, but you cut him off before he can make too much of a fool of himself.

"in fact, i don't actually know you at all. i couldn't recall your name even if you held a gun to my head." the hiss in your voice reveals just how over this whole situation you are. he opens his mouth to spout something else you have no interest in hearing, the sleazy grin falling from his face, but you hold a hand up to silence him. "so i'd really appreciate it if you left me alone."

"but–"

"and stay out of my room, and my locker, too. if it happens again, you're getting reported." you spit the final words at him, and turn on your heel to leave. before you can take another step, he grabs your elbow and spins you back around to face him, causing your ankle to twist awkwardly, which sends a fresh jolt of pain up your leg. you hold back a groan and fix him with a deadly glare instead.

"hey, c'mon, don't be like that!" you wince as he practically demands, getting much closer to you than was necessary, even with you arching backwards to put some space between you. "at least gimme a chance,"

"just leave me alone." you hiss, pulling your arm out of his grip and before he has the chance to do or say anything else, you hurry back the way you came, your limp noticeably more pronounced than earlier. thankfully, the private – jackson, you’d just about been able to read on his jacket – didn’t follow you back to the mess hall, which proves that he has at least half a brain. you hoped that he’d take the hint to stay away from you, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were preparing yourself to be hassled by him in the coming days; he certainly seemed the type.

you were gone less than ten minutes, but in that time most of the lunch crowd had cleared out, leaving the room a lot quieter than it had been. as you shuffle towards soap and gaz, still sitting at the same table, they both turn to look at you, and you can tell by the way both their expressions drop that they sense something is off.

"what happened?" gaz asks as you take your seat across from them, trying to hold back a wince when you put too much strain on your ankle, "your face says it didn't go well."

you sigh, looking between both of them, lingering on soap who’s already watching you with an intensity that has your face heating up. "it didn’t. it was just some private who can’t take no for an answer." you grumble, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

"your ankle okay?" soap asks, holding your gaze until you relent and look away first. you want to tell him not to worry, but you find it's impossible to lie to him, not when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the room. "what happened?" he presses, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"its nothing, he just– i just twisted it a little." you trip over your words under his stare, looking to gaz for help, but you find that he has a similar – albeit less intense – look of concern on his face. the silence hangs between you for a moment as you wordlessly try to convince them, but they see through you. "alright, fine. when i was leaving, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, and i pulled my ankle."

if johnny had been pissed before, he was furious now; his eyes were dark underneath his furrowed brow, his lips turned down in a frown that looked more like a snarl. to see someone usually so easygoing with such a threatening look on his face was almost worrying, the only reassurance being that you know it's not directed at you.

"that prick… who was it?" gaz isn't nearly as affected as soap, but he's clearly annoyed by the audacity of the private. you shake your head, urging them to just let it go; he wasn't worth the trouble, after all.

when johnny says your name in that deep, gravelly tone, your heart skips a beat and your eyes snap to meet his. "who was it." he asks, but it's not a question anymore, and every fibre of your being is telling you to just give in to him.

"jackson. i don't know his first name…" you mutter, slightly flustered by the way he's acting. the tension in the silence that follows is nearly suffocating. from where his arms rest on the table, you notice johnny repeatedly clenching his fists, seemingly having some sort of internal battle with himself.

"what a bellend…" gaz grumbles, pausing for a moment to shake the disgust from his face. "so, what about the whole 'secret admirer' thing then?" he leans back in his chair, eyes darting to soap's profile then back to you.

"i don't know…" you sigh, "didn't really seem like something he was capable of, but i guess i don't really know him, so–"

"yeah, he doesn't seem the type, does he?" gaz interjects, with a newfound energy at your words. you narrow you eyes, sensing an ulterior motive, but let him continue. "i mean, buying you flowers, sweets– seems a bit too thoughtful for such a twat."

his jab coaxed a laugh from you, "maybe; i guess i was pretty disappointed when i saw it was him, though."

"oh yeah? expecting someone else, were you?" gaz has a grin on his face, one that has you worried that he's clocked on to your true feelings.

"something like that…" you clear your throat, suddenly feeling a little too seen for your liking. "anyway, i'd better get going, desk duty is no joke," you slowly stand up, making sure to be careful of your newly irritated ankle, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"yeah, me too, cap said he needs my help with something." gaz stands as well, giving soap a pat on the back and a suspicious wink as he walks off, which you willfully choose to ignore.

"you gonna be okay?" johnny comes to your side as you shuffle around the table, his hand brushing over your back to support you. butterflies begin to flutter at the feeling, and you scold yourself for being so easily affected. he seems to have calmed down a lot, the anger from earlier overtaken by his concern.

"yeah, i'll be fine, i think i'll just have to grab my crutch," you smile at him and take a step forward, wincing as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"c'mon, lemme help you," he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his worry evident within them. his hand is warm on your back, you have to hold yourself back from leaning into him. "cannae have you hurtin' yourself any more."

"you sure? don't you have work to do too?" you have every intention of taking him up on his offer, but you couldn't help feeling guilty for needing his help like this.

"i'm sure lt. can survive a few extra minutes," johnny gives you a reassuring smile, already ushering you out of the mess hall.

"well, don't blame me when has your head," you grin back at him, relishing in the comfortable feeling of being so close to him. distracted by his proximity, you momentarily forget about your injury and without thinking, you put too much weight on it as you take a step. with a pained gasp, you wobble on your good foot and pause to give your ankle a break.

johnny moves his arm to sit securely around your waist, gently pulling you to lean fully against him. "you sure you don't want me to take you to the infirmary?" he asks, lifting your arm to wrap around his shoulders.

"no, no– they're just gonna tell me to rest, and i'll be sitting down all day anyway," you move to continue on your way to your room, but he stays put. 

"you should still get it looked at, might be–"

"johnny." you stop him with a hand on his chest, "i'm okay."

you watch his adams apple bob as he gulps, his eyes flickering to where your hand is touching him and back up to your own, almost too fast to notice.

"right, right. sorry." he dips his head, breaking eye contact. you pull him gently, and the two of you start walking again. "you know jackson well?"

you scoff, frowning as you recall the events of earlier. "what? no, before today i didn't even know his name. he seems like kind of an arsehole, to be honest."

"really? made that bad of an impression, eh?" his lopsided smile feels oddly smug, but you decide not to overthink it.

"like i said, can't take a no." you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, "i doubt this is the last time i'll have to deal with him…"

"he's not gonna bother you." johnny states, with a finality that is as stunning as it is comforting.

"...if you say so." you don't press any further, wanting to simply move on and forget about the whole thing. you'd gladly never think about that arrogant private again.

before you know it, the two of you are standing in the hall outside your room. his grip around your waist loosens as you push open the door, and you're all too aware of the cold feeling left behind as he lets go.

"thank you, for helping me." you shoot him a grateful smile, grabbing your crutch from where it leant against the wall, propping it under your arm.

"course," johnny pauses, looking past you to something in your room. "you… kept the gardenias?" he asks, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving. you tilt your head, a silent question, but he's still staring at the flowers.

"yeah, they're…" you begin, but his words have you pausing too; he didn't seem like the kind of person to be interested in floristry, you'd certainly never heard him say anything about it before. but somehow, he'd identified the flowers on your end table with no problem. "...they're nice. i like them, even if they do look a little sad now."

when he finally meets your eyes again, there's a distinct redness to his face that wasn't there before, and you feel your heart beginning to race with renewed hope. it could be that he just likes flowers, but if he already knew they were gardenias, maybe he…

"right, i, uh– i should get going, or ghost might actually kill me." johnny's voice had a dazed quality to it when he spoke.

"alright, i'll see you later then," you give him a small smile as you step back into the hall next to him. the two of you look at each other for a moment before you speak again, holding back a laugh, "you gonna go, or just stand there all day?"

your words seem to snap him out of the trance he’d been in, and he shakes his head in an almost comical manner, "right! right, sorry, bye!" he sputters, waving over his shoulder as he jogs away. you chuckle to yourself as he goes, and start walking the opposite direction to get started with your own work.

✹✹✹

you didn't see soap again until the next day, considering that he was strangely absent from mealtimes both last night and today. thankfully the incident from the day before hadn't done any further damage to your ankle, so you were up and about without the need for your crutch after a good night's rest.

you'd just dropped off a folder of paperwork in price's office – which you'd completed in fairly good time, thanks to being stuck behind a desk for nearly two weeks – but as you descend the staircase, you're almost knocked over by someone flying around the corner. you caught yourself with a hand on the railing, blinking away your surprise and glaring at whoever had carelessly bumped into you.

much to your chagrin, it was jackson, and you feel your face naturally falling into a frown at the realisation. you’d been expecting him to try and change your mind about yesterday, but true to johnny’s words, he had yet to bother you about it; actually, you hadn’t seen him at all since then, not even at breakfast or lunch, but it's not as if you were complaining. 

though, as you stare down at him from the step above, you notice a deep purple bruise decorating his cheekbone that definitely wasn’t there yesterday. your frown turns from malice to confusion as you wonder how he could have gotten it in the span of less than a day, it looked like he’d taken a serious punch. you couldn’t say you felt bad for him, but it did look painful.

"listen, about yesterday… i- i lied,." jackson mutters, eyes glued to the floor to avoid your own. he was shuffling in place, as if he was preparing to bolt at any second. your eyes narrow as you process his words.

"what?"

he clears his throat. "i lied. it wasn’t me, i just said it was because one of the guys bet me i couldn’t get you to go out with me." he admits. the way he keeps avoiding your eyes, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to jump out at him has you a little suspicious, but your heart still soars when you realise what he means.

jackson wasn't your secret admirer, so your hopeless romantic heart could still dream that it was johnny. the flutter of butterflies even distracts you from the insulting notion that he only wanted to go out with you for a bet.

"seriously?" you ask, your shock evident in your voice as you stare him down. finally his eyes land on your own, an embarrassed grimace overtaking his nervous expression. it's a stark, satisfying difference to his arrogant overconfidence from before.

"yeah. i’m sorry, okay? i don’t want any trouble, it was just–" he cuts himself off, but when you give him a questioning look, he can't tear his eyes from the space behind you, and only mumbles what sounds like a ‘sorry’ before scurrying off back the way he came. you watch him go, thoroughly confused by the whole interaction, but not a moment later a voice from where he was staring brings you out of your thoughts.

"y’alright? little shit wasn’t botherin’ you, was he?" soap's voice cuts through the quiet, and you turn to see him descending the stairs to stand next to you.

you shake your head, "no, no, he just–" you hesitate, your mind going back to yesterday and the gardenias. "he lied, it wasn't him."

"really?" he asks, but his voice doesn't sound surprised at all. you're not sure if you imagined it, but for a moment his expression changes into something like satisfaction.

"yeah, he was about to say something else too, but he just ran off," you sigh, walking down the last few steps. soap follows close behind, a hand hovering near your back. "did you see that bruise on his face? wonder how he got it…"

"looked nasty, eh?" a laugh escapes him, and you admire the way his lips curve, the creases around his eyes as his smile reaches them. "maybe he finally got what was comin' to him."

his face was close to yours, a lot closer than you could reasonably handle without losing your nerve and making a fool of yourself. realising you had yet to respond, you clear your throat and start walking down the corridor, your eyes to the floor and a burning in your cheeks.

"if he never speaks to me again, it'll still be too soon…" you grumble, willing your heart to calm down as he comes up next to you in a few long strides. "anyway, what have you been up to? i haven't seen you all day." with a quick glance, you see the easy smile he has falter slightly.

"i was, ah–" he avoids your eye as he stops himself, a beat of silence passes before he continues "nevermind, i– i was… looking for you." your heart skips a beat, but you scold it for being so eager; the two of you were teammates, friends, he could be looking for you for any number of reasons.

"looking for me? what's up?" you turn your head to face him as you walk, a curious tilt to your brow.

johnny comes to a stop, and so do you a moment after. he looks at you, fidgety and shifting on his feet, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. the look on his face is unsure, uncomfortable, like he was debating running off like jackson had done a minute ago.

he's nervous, that much you can tell. but despite the slightly awkward tension, you you wait for whatever it is he's struggling to say.

"i… uh– y'know what, i actually forgot." johnny hangs his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and scratching the back of his neck.

at his words your heart sinks, and you can't help the disappointed look that takes over your expression. "oh? are you–"

before you can finish, he drops a hand on your shoulder and steps ahead of you, turning around so you're face to face. "listen, ghost is waiting for me, so i gotta run," he smiles again, but it's weaker this time, almost forced as it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"right… better not keep him waiting."

"right," his reply is short, and the tension between you only grows every moment he avoids your eyes. "i'll see you later though, promise." he flashes you another false smile, gently patting your shoulder, before turning on his heel and swiftly escaping down the corridor.

"bye, johnny." you release a sigh, from longing or exasperation you're not sure, watching his form disappear through the doors.

✹✹✹

despite his promise, once again you don't see soap for the rest of the day. at dinner you'd questioned ghost on his whereabouts, but he only told you that he had no idea either. this time however, you got the strong feeling he was lying to you.

still though, you couldn't find it within yourself to be annoyed with him. you could see clear as day that something was going on with johnny, and if he didn't want to confide in you about whatever it is, then you certainly won't be the one to push him.

having finished today's obligations, you decided to head straight to your room once you'd finished eating. you open your door, a sigh escaping you as you prepare to collapse for the night, and stop dead in your tracks.

a folded sheet of paper lays in front of you, standing out against the emptiness of your floor, crumpled like it had been screwed up and flattened out again. a sense of déjà vù overcomes you, for last week, when you'd received the sketches of yourself in the same way. for a moment all you can do is stand there, staring at the paper, processing.

eventually, you do step into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and picking the paper up from the floor. you keep it folded until you're sitting on the edge of your mattress, hands shaking ever so slightly with the anticipation.

you're not sure what to think, as you sit burning holes in the paper with your stare. after yesterday, you thought you were done with the idea of your secret admirer; but then again, jackson had admitted to you earlier that he'd lied when he met you yesterday, and the whole reason you weren't as interested after that was because your pipe dream of the mystery person being johnny had been shattered. but now that the identity of your admirer was once again a mystery, you couldn't help but want to dream like that again. 

with a defeated groan, you decide to just rip off the bandaid and read the note. you unfold it, immediately noticing the scratchy handwriting – the opposite of the note jackson gave you, so thankfully it couldn't be from him.

you hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes scan the words in front of you.

i stayed up all night trying to write this note, but nothing i came up with felt good enough, so i'm just going to say it. i'm your secret admirer. i know you probably won't believe me after that bastard yesterday, but i need you to know anyway. i used to think that love just wasn't my thing, that i'd never find someone i wanted to spend my life with, but that changed when i met you. i didn’t realise it at first, but it's always been you. you're my person, and i can't hide it anymore. i love you. maybe i'm a coward for giving you a note instead of telling you face to face. but if you don't feel the same, you can throw it away, or burn it or something, and i'll never bring it up again. your heart, johnny

the silence in your room borders on deafening as you sit completely still, reeling from what you'd just read. you didn't realise you'd stopped breathing until you release a shaky breath.

all this time, it was johnny.

every longing glance, every touch that lingered just a little too long, the racing pulse every time he says your name; it was all reciprocated.

every time you thought you could never have him as anything more than your best friend, you were wrong.

he cared enough to leave you a pick-me-up after a hard mission, buy you flowers when you got injured, draw you the way he saw you, gift you things he took the time to notice you like.

all this time… he'd felt the exact same way you do.

you set the note down next to you, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth that had fallen open in shock. there was only one thing to do, in your mind, and that was to run into johnny's arms and make up for all the lost time you've spent pining over him.

in seemingly no time at all, you find yourself standing at johnny's door, your fist poised to knock. theres a moment of hesitation, but before your apprehension can cloud your mind, you let your knuckles rap on the wood once, twice, three times, and take a step back as you wait for a response. after a second or two – which felt a lot longer than it actually was – you hear the sounds of footsteps from inside.

another moment passes, and you assume johnny is standing on the other side with his heart in his throat just like you, short-lived before he finally swings the door open.

he looks at you, eyes wide and like a deer caught in headlights, the way he holds himself uncharacteristically shy as you stare each other down.

"the note," you finally murmur, and johnny almost flinches, clearly fighting the urge to look away from you. "tell me you meant it." you continue, taking a miniscule step closer to him. you hear his breath catch in his chest.

"every word." he whispers, gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes again, and your heart misses a beat.

with no hesitation this time, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crushing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss that's as much teeth as it is lips.

johnny groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist as he turns and walks you backwards into his room. the door gets kicked shut behind him once he's got you inside, neither of you breaking apart more than enough to draw a single ragged breath before meeting in the middle again. with another needy whine into you he pushes you up against the wall, caging you in with his broad shoulders and his arms around your waist.

the weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his stubble prickly against your face, the softness of his lips against yours; it's everything you've been waiting for, and now you finally have him, he tastes sweeter than you could've ever imagined.

the two of you stay like that for moments that feel like hours in each other's embrace, only pulling away when your lungs are burning and your lips are swollen. leaning your head back against the wall, his eyes meet yours with such adoration it sends your heart fluttering all over again.

"i'll take that as a good sign," he mumbles, a lopsided grin lifting his features. his joy is so infectious you can't help but mirror his expression as you drop your head to rest on his shoulder.

his chest rumbles with an airy, disbelieving laugh and he tugs you impossibly closer, resting his cheek against the side of your head. standing chest to chest now, you can feel the hammering of his heart against yours and the way his skin burns under your touch.

"you’re my person too," you murmur into him, one of your hands moving up to tangle in the strands of his mohawk, "always have been."

johnny's arms wind tighter around you as he releases a deep, content sigh. he's hugged you countless times before but somehow, this feels different while still staying exactly the same. the heat radiating from him is soothing like it always has been, the knowledge that your feelings are reciprocated only making it that much sweeter.

"why'd it take us so long, eh?" he utters, tender and loving in the way he runs his hands over your back and sides.

"we're just idiots…" you reply, "gaz is gonna have a field day with this."

johnny laughs again, pressing his lips to the side of your head so you can feel his smile. "oh, he clocked us a long time ago, bonnie."

you can't help but groan as you imagine how gaz will tease the both of you for how oblivious you've both been.

he lifts you up by his grip around your waist, carrying you over to his bed and flopping down onto his back with you on his chest. a satisfied groan escapes him as he settles, burying his face into your hair and inhaling a deep breath.

you're enveloped by the scent of him – gunpowder, and the faint smell of something burnt, but it's pleasant and familiar nonetheless.

"yer stayin' with me tonight, non negotiable." he murmurs, running a hand up and down the length of your spine.

"fine by me." you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and find them already locked on you. "so, about jackson…"

johnny scoffs, lightheartedly frowning in response. "yer gonna bring his name up while yer in my bed?"

"he looked really spooked when he saw you earlier," you begin, smoothing your hand over his chest. his eyes widen at your words, his hand freezing as he looks away from you with a distinctly guilty expression on his face. you narrow your eyes, holding back the amused smirk pulling at your lips. "johnny… did you…"

he clears his throat, and by the way he can't hold your gaze for more than a second you can tell he knows he's been caught. there's no stopping the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at his reaction.

"...i may have, uh– potentially put some fear o'god into the little bawbag…"

"soap!"

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hal congrats on the 5k you absolutely deserve it.

I have a request for the 5k event so here it is

The reader is John's wife who's 9 months pregnant and basically about to burst. Reader goes into Labour while John is out on the field.

Again congratulations on 5k you absolutely deserve every single follower since your Storys are just chefs kiss. I'm very glad i found your blog when i did!

—Here Now

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞

You had told him you would be fine, and, of course, John knew he could take your word—even if over these nine months he’d been more worried than he had been in his entire life. It would have been difficult for you to say how you were truly feeling about being home alone two days past your due date with no one but the birds outside to give you company. 

He had been up at arms about being with you through this, and the man’s stubbornness about that fact had made your face go soft with love. John was the most loyal man you’d ever met; add in a child on the way and he became no better than a hound baying at the scent of a fox. But this had apparently been so important that he’d asked you about the idea of being away for a day—a single day, the man had emphasized, even if the others had to stay wherever they were going for longer. He’d take the red-eye back the second after the time was up, a whole military Heli and all.

One day was far better than one week—far better than one month. So, you’d agreed albeit a bit reluctantly as the man reassured you he’d be back safe and whole. He’d be back for the birth. 

Yeah, that was a load of bullshit. 

You lay in the hospital room, panting and trying to keep your eyes open as the contractions hit once more; a whimper hidden as you bend your neck forward to let your chin hit your chest. 

“Shit,” you breathe, the nurse moving out of the room quickly to grab more water and the doctor for you. 

This had been going on for a good four hours—levels of shaking pain that lasted upwards of a minute and had been increasing in frequency more so in the last sixty minutes. They’d finally had you lay back on the bed only a little bit ago, and you knew at that point that John would be unable to make it for the birth of your first child.

The thought terrified you. 

You place a hand on your stomach and blink down at it, the raised half of the bed behind you and the chill of the room making you shiver. The buzz of the lights—the closed windows. Your heart is running not only from the thought of this, of all that could go wrong, but also because you now lacked the most steady rock you’d had in your entire life: John. He’d know what to tell you to make you calm down, to make your mind stop with all the panic. 

But he’s not here, and that alone makes you want to—

The door opens so quickly it nearly busts off of its hinges.

Your heart sputters, head jerking back as you wince from another contraction, this one far more painful and promising to stay for longer. Closer now. But your eyes blink on something more important. 

“I’m here, Love.” As if a phantom, John hurries through, a gaggle of wide-eyed nurses behind him before the door to your room is shut by firm hands. “Fuckin’ hell, Sweetheart, I’m ‘ere, it’s alright.”

He’s still in his gear—lacking weapons as those had probably been tossed away on Base—but vest and hat are present; the large boots with tucked pants and that compression shirt. You watch in shock as he speeds up to the side of your bed, taking your hand in his large one and squeezing. His other grabs the motion-less chair and drags it over with a grunt. 

“Now,” John says, shaking his head at you as you simply stare. “You squeeze my hand as hard as you well please then, yeah? Don’t care if you break a few fingers, Love, I’ve been through worse.” 

“How…” You mutter, tears welling in your eyes. “How did you…?”

He blinks those tiny blues at you, twitching his nose as his gaze darts down your body. 

“Had a feeling,” is all he says. 

You laugh through a sob and he presses his forehead into yours, hand on the base of your skull. 

“I’m here right now,” he utters. “Gonna have to have a few words with the little Muppet when they’re out about timing. Nearly made me bloody miss it.” 

“John Price,” you scolded lightly, laughing. 

He only hums and tries to hide his wide grin, eyes shimmering. 

By the time it’s all over, he holds the both of you to his vest-less top as he leans back beside your bare dewy skin, the small bundle kept to your chest with its gripping hands. John’s arm was around your shoulders, drawing you to him. You had fallen asleep not minutes prior, and the soldier kept watch as he always had when his girl was needing him. 

Well, girls now. 

He watches, not speaking, barely breathing, only pulling you closer to him as you sigh and shift. The baby, his and yours baby, gargles and kicks her little feet until he shifts a hand to assist your own in cupping her higher. His smile is uncontainable, just like the sudden glossiness to his eyes at such a tiny weight in his grip.

John watches, and he comes to a conclusion as he presses a deep kiss into your scalp, his thumb taken into the smallest grip that has ever held it. 

There was never a more beautiful sight than the one right in front of him. 

[vgilantee]

soft-domming the 141

pronouns: none used, entirely gender neutral reader!

contains handjobs, overstimulation and lots of praise. the bulk of these were sent to @glossysoap in her dm's, but i've added to them ;) this is more or less letting them be pillow princesses and getting the praise they deserve. also these are in the order i sent them to glossy! (but price is first because he's actually my husband) (fun fact about me is i'm a heavily sub-leaning switch, but my dom brain is almost entirely Praise, Overstimulation, and Edging. which is very clear in this)

MINORS FUCK OFF. 18+ OR BE BLOCKED. MINORS DNI

John Price

you're sitting on john's thighs in your dimly lit spare bedroom, wearing nothing but his favourite of your panties and one of his shirts

john is laying backm sitting against the pillows and completely naked, hands on your hips squeezing at you desperately

your hands are slowly stroking up and down his cock, feeling the veins and the way it twitchs, squeezing his base before sliding up to run the pad of your thumb over his leaking slit

occasionally you lean forward to kiss and nip at his neck and shoulders, kissing him on the face with a soft smile while he softly moans and gasps

taking his bottom lip between your teeth the same moment you drag your hand up his cock with a strong grip, causing john to let out a breathy whine into your ear

while your hands and mouth caress his skin, you're muttering to him things like "my strong, handsome captain. always taking such good care of his boys. such good care of me. you do so much, you deserve a moment to not have to think, give yourself a break, hm? making such pretty noises for me. that's it, john, just relax and let me take care of you. let me play with your thick cock and make you feel good."

and price's trying so hard to let you keep control, let you move your hands and mouth how you want, so he's leaving bruises shaped like his fingertips on your waist and thighs.

ssometims you feel his hips twitch and his cock push up against your hand, but you can see that he's trying so so hard.

"good boy, john. you can fuck my hand if you want. just wanna take care of you"

and when he comes, it covers your hand and forearm, and gets all over his hairy stomach and some up to his chest. so you slide back a little on his thighs so you can clean him up properly, licking up the cum with satisfied sounds, which all call cause john to moan and gasp, especially when you suck lightly on his cock, which quickly turns into taking him down your throat, trying to see how fast you can make him come again (and again...)

Simon "Ghost" Riley

you have simon on the living room sofa, head resting on one arm and his feet on the other, with you sitting pretty between his thighs

your hand is rough as you jerk him off, movements made slick from the last four - or was it five? - orgasms you have pulled from him

the way your sitting, with his knees bent by your ears, it gives you the perfect position to lean forward and kiss and lick at his cock and balls, biting occasionally at his thighs and lower stomach

simon's hands gripping tightly at the blanket underneath him while he cries and moans, letting out a sob when you give a short, harsh suck to his hip

"that feel good, pretty boy? yeah? that's it, one more, know you can do that for me. turn that big smar brain of yours off and cum for me. so pretty covered in your own mess. my strong, tough ghost. you deserve to be treated, especailly when you make such lovely sounds for me"

and simon, poor simon who refuses to tap out, is literally shooting blanks, orgasms just causing his thighs to shudder and his stomach to clench while he whimpers at the overstimulation

when you finally release his cock, carefully wiping off his mess, you climb under his leg to kneel beside the sofa, kissing his cheek

"did so good, si. so pretty for me. i'll clean you up, don't worry. just rest, okay baby?"

(i watched a video of someone doing this to their boyfriend AGES ago and it lives with me. the whimpers he made while kicking? delicious)

Johnny "Soap" McTavish

you have johnny flat on his back, legs pushed up to his chest in a mating press, giving you perfect access to play with his cock and asshole

before you even touch his cock, you give his inner thighs a couple of spanks, listening to him gasp while your handprints appear on his pale skin

leaning forward, licking a stripe up the base of his cock while it lays on his stomach, finger teasing his rim causing him to shiver

dragging the back of a nail along the veins decorating his pretty cock

"such a good boy for me, aren't you, johnny? making such pretty sounds and begging so sweet. that's it, just enjoy, sweet"

biting at his inner thighs while you grip his cock, giving long and slow tugs that leaving him sobbing

spitting a glob onto his taint so you can watch it dribble down to his hole, clenching around nothing while he lets out a whine

"i know, my sweet sergeant, just getting you nice 'n' relaxed"

kissing at his inner thighs and cock - if you're a lipstick wearer, covering his skin in pretty stains - lapping up the pre leaking from his tip and watching how his fingers dig into his thighs while he's a good boy and holds his legs up

holding the base of his cock so it stands up, spitting onto the tip and using it to jerk him off, letting the thumb of your other hand slowly press into his ass while he lets out a whined moan

"that's it, pretty boy, just keep making those sounds for me. so good"

definitely not letting him cum until his cheeks are tearstained and he's mindlessly begging and babbling. he's so smart, gotta turn that brain completely off for him

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

this may sound like a punishment but i swaer it's not. kyle asked to be tied up and he looks so pretty with the rope twisted and knotted across his chest

he's sitting in one of your dining room chairs, hands and arms tied behind his back with soft pink ropes

his heavy cock is leaking against his thigh while you circle around him, lightly tugging at the ropes making his hips jerk forward, desperate for friction while your soft fingers teas him

"look so pretty like this, hey, baby? now what should we do with you? hmm..." you tease him while standing between his thighs and sliding your hands up and down them

kneeling on a pillow between his thighs so you can slowly lick at his cock, taking your time taking him slowly down your throat then stilling, not moving until he whines out a "please"

pulling off, dragging your tongue up his cock and flicking it over his slit

"'please' what? use your words, my good boy. know you haven't gone stupid just yet. you're so clever, i know it takes more than your cock sitting in my throat to make you dumb"

only moving your mouth and hands while he moans and whines and pleads. the moment he tries to be quiet, you pull back and nip at his thigh

kyle starts letting out high pitched moans after his third orgasm, and you lean your head against his thigh, stroking his cock while staring up at him

"fuck, kyle you look so pretty like this. all glassy-eyed and fucked out. can feel you twitching in my hand, know you can give me one more. such a good boy, that's it." and all he can do is moan and babble out please and thank you's "such good manners, even when you're fucked stupid. my good, brainless boy."

tagging - i don't do tag lists, but for this one i made an exception because i did an interest check!: @patchmates-ad @callsign-selkie @buttdumplin @theywhowriteandknowthings @xxshadowbabexx @glossysoap

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men and No Nut November - Preferences

Simon Riley, Johnny MacTavish, John Price, Kyle Garrick, König, Maxim Bale, Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Warnings: smut

Summary: In which both of you participate in the challenge. 

A/N: Yes, I know November is over but this was a request so here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!

Simon Riley

You suggested the idea of having no sex or any kind of act for a month. You two have been at it pretty much every day, sometimes many times during the day, so it came as the perfect idea.

You told him that it would make him want you more and vice versa. 

What you forgot is that Simon could be very patient. 

So much so, that he even said "Only a month?" before he shrugged and moved on.

What none of you expected is that the sexual tension and frustration would be too much to bear.

On day 27, he would be without a shirt and you would physically shake.

On day 28, you would wear a pair of jeans that just makes your ass look amazing, making him take a cold shower immediately.

On day 30, both of you had enough and you couldn't take it anymore.

To say you two destroyed each other's clothes would be a nice thing to say.

He never pounded you as hard as he did on that day. He never came as hard or as much as he did on that day. 

Johnny MacTavish

It was actually his idea, he heard from Simon that he and his wife were doing this challenge and Johnny wanted to try it out. 

You agreed, you really thought both of you had enough self-restraint to survive.

And in the beginning, it was okay. It seemed like you were doing good.

Until you weren't.

By the end of the month, you really wanted to at least take care of the 'problem' yourself.

But you couldn't.

As for Johnny, he was surprisingly well. He distracted himself and did many things around the house.

He even finished the porch that he started months before. He cleaned the garden and even began to build a new area in the garden for your dogs.

The fact that you didn't have sex, resulted in a very clean house.

But you both made it, and once the month ended, you two were at it again. 

The garden for the dogs? Forgotten.

But at least you both very finally satisfied again.

Kyle Garrick

When you suggested the idea, he actually had something similar in mind. So, you both agreed to go along with it.

And surprisingly, you both did amazingly well.

You two went out on many cute dates, never once making any sexual remarks.

It was easy, but it didn't mean you didn't miss it.

Kyle counted the last couple of days as if it was Christmas.

John Price

John would be up for the idea. But he would fail on the same day.

Seeing you preparing dinner, you happened to bend over to pick up something, and it was over. 

He had you bent over the table in a second.

Maxim Bale

It took you a solid 5 minutes to explain the entire thing. He didn't understand why you would want to do this, but when you explained that it could be exciting, he was down for it.

It was a long month for Maxim.

He was never a sex-crazed person but he did like his sex in the morning, so when you reminded him that you would rather not, he was a little offended. 

Just a little.

The month was a struggle more for you than him.

He could easily occupy himself by doing something with his car.

And there you were, watching him fix his car, covered in sweat, muscles on full display.

As soon as the month was over, you were all over him.

Alejandro Vargas

He would laugh when you tell him the idea. 

Him? Surviving a month without sex or anything?

Impossible.

He knew it, you knew it.

But if you insist, he will try his best.

2 days he would last.

Completely failing the entire challenge. 

But who could blame him?

He loved you and your body.

And just as he said: "How did you expect me to live without this perfect pussy tightening around me?"

König

In the beginning of your relationship, he never instigated sex.

It was always you making the first move.

But as he got more and more comfortable with you, he started to come out of his shell.

It got to a point where he had to stop himself.

So, a challenge like this would excite him. He wanted to see how long he would last.

But let's be fair, he would struggle.

Because once you find the person you love the most, the one you feel so good around you can finally be yourself. And then you put yourself through a challenge like this.... it is torture. 

Yet, somehow he would still pull through, although he is sure his balls would hurt more and more with each passing day.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[sl-ut]

all is fair

pairing: pope heyward x fem!reader, unrequited!jj maybank x fem!reader, slightly homoerotic bff!sarah cameron x reader LOLLLL

description: jj is not jealous of pope. definitely not. okay, maybe just a little.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking/drug usage, jealousy, slight angst, jj being a little butthurt, pope and jj are beefing, weird au where the plot of the show never happens lol but sarah and jb are still dating, reader has a shitty past and a bit of lore but we’ll get into it but don’t worry it doesnt rlly affect what the reader looks like or ethnic/cultural background (but i wrote it with arabic-canadian!reader in mind but thats just self indulgent lol), once again was high when starting this and writing this rn so sorry if it makes like no sense whatsoever but i think the story will be good), the grandparents are the sweetest human beings ever sorry

words: 2.7K

date posted: 08/11/25

JJ swore he wasn’t jealous. No way.

JJ, despite his unfortunate past, he had grown to be pretty damn confident in himself over the years; He was one of the best surfers in Kildare, he had a great group of friends, and he was fairly popular among the ladies in the Outer Banks. Sure, there were parts of him that he wasn’t so proud of or tried to keep hidden as much as possible, but at a time like this, he shouldn’t be feeling anything but on top of the world, but he couldn’t quite fight off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach as his eyes followed the movements of the two girls on the opposite side of the bonfire.

Sarah threw her head back, laughing joyfully as she and Y/n took turns twirling each other around to some song that was far too fast for their dancing, but neither seemed to care. They’d been at it for a few songs now, Sarah always waiting in the wings to snatch the newest member of the Pogues away to have all to herself, knowing fully well that there were at least two other members of the group who were eager to do the same. John B didn’t seem alarmed at his girlfriend’s obsession with their new friend, though it was probably too demanding to ask a teenage boy to be upset about his girlfriend rubbing up on another girl. 

To be totally fair, Sarah did technically have first dibs, having been the first to meet the girl after she’d moved in with her grandparents in Figure Eight while volunteering at the local animal shelter. Her grandparents were pretty well known in Kildare, two former snowbirds who finally decided to settle in North Carolina, both having recently retired, though her grandfather did own and partially run the shelter. They were a sweet old couple, the type that you might see on a Christmas card or a cookie box, and lived quite modestly despite the fact that they were living amongst the wealthier community on the island. With their granddaughter in town and staying with them indefinitely, they were eager to introduce her to Sarah in hopes of easily transitioning her into the social scene. It was Sarah who had invited her to the kegger the following weekend, so it made sense that they had quickly become two peas in a pod, so long as JJ was next in the pecking order.

Except, he couldn’t technically claim that spot on his own. He had actually met Y/n prior to the bonfire while delivering groceries with Pope, both of them spotting her at the exact same time as she answered the door, charming each of them with a sweet smile and a generous tip, completely unaware of the lingering gaze of each boy as she bid them each a polite goodbye before closing the door. Neither of them said anything the entire walk back to the truck, both sitting quietly in the front seat for a moment before JJ finally let his thoughts take over.

“She was like, crazy hot, right?”

Pope was silent for another beat before he sighed out his response, “Yeah she was.”

Neither of them brought her up again, figuring it wasn’t really worth their time to pursue anything with a girl who would only be there for a week. However, when she showed up with Sarah to the kegger that Friday, all bets were off.

JJ was the first to actually get to talk to her, stepping in with a greeting while Sarah became occupied with her boyfriend, nearly wasting away after being apart for two hours. He offered her a drink, chuckling to himself at the cringing expression on her face at the taste of the warm beer. She shook her head, handing the red cup back to him with a slightly embarrassed look on her face. This caught Sarah’s attention, winking at JJ as she encouraged him to show Y/n the cooler of quote-on-quote “girly drinks” in the back of the twinkie. 

He could read that she was nervous, especially now that she was alone with him. Normally, he would do his best to calm her nerves just enough that he could persuade her to climb into the back of the van with him, but something about this girl made him feel different, almost obliged to treat her with more respect than he did most girls. She wasn’t just another girl, he could tell simply by the way she carried herself, almost like she understood him on a deeper level before she even knew anything about him. He was drawn to her, and an unfamiliar feeling of nerves ate away at his tummy as he showed her the selection of Sarah’s cans and gave her a lopsided grin as she took the can from him. 

He lost sight of her for a while, returning to manning the keg while John B and Sarah rushed down the beach hand in hand, but his eyes were in a constant motion of scanning the crowd, eagerly searching for even a glimpse of the girl who’d had his head spinning for the last hour. 

Unbeknownst to him, she had found herself sitting next to Kie at the bonfire, falling easily into the conversation with her and the few others. She took note of the boy sitting across from her, making an effort to ask him questions or include him in the conversations. He seemed to be a bit socially awkward, but there was something about him that had caught her eye straight away, even from the first moment they locked eyes while he was delivering her grandparents’ groceries.  

He was dorky and awkward in the most endearing way possible, unlike guys she had historically been attracted to, but she was certain that that was exactly why she liked him so much; she was in the market for a fresh start, and that couldn’t happen if she put herself in the position to treated like shit all over again. 

Six weeks later and Y/n found herself becoming a regular at the Chateau, constantly being dragged there on her days off from the shelter by Sarah or being picked up by one of the others on their way home from whatever odd job they’d picked up on Figure Eight for the day. Every day out on the boat, every kegger, every bonfire on the beach, she was there. 

They had all even begun hanging out at her place, all quickly becoming acquainted with her grandparents, both of whom were more than happy to host the teens, keeping them comfortable and fed all day as they used their in-ground pool or lounged in the A/C. Her grandmother thought they were all the sweetest kids who’d ever lived, having a special place in her heart for the boys, while her grandfather was just glad to have a group to cook for, gladly donning his fancy apron and manning his grill for them all and enjoyed having extra help around the house. Her grandma especially loves when Sarah comes for sleepovers because she loves joining in on your gossip sessions and joining you both to go get mani-pedis in the morning. 

Their closeness to her family also meant that they were quickly discovering very personal things about Y/n’s life prior to moving to the Outer Banks. Y/n was very hyper aware of this for the first few weeks, almost vulnerable now that her past was now out in the open, but she quickly came to realise that her secrets were safe with the pogues, and that they only made them love her even more.

Initially, it hadn’t been the intent of either Y/n or Pope to begin hanging out on their own in secret. Well, they had both wanted to hang out on their own, but the secrecy stemmed from the fact that JJ had made his intentions and feelings for Y/n very clear, and that he was very hard-pressed about the “no pogue-on-pogue macking,” rule for everyone except for himself for some reason. They also liked the quietness of secrecy, neither of them worried about their friends trying to butt in on their movie nights or walks on the beach, even though they were most definitely not trying to get each other alone on purpose… Until after she kissed him for the first time, that is.

Pope had been shocked when it happened, his brain barely even registering the second-long peck after he’d walked her home from the Chateau one evening, but he was sure to put his all into the second and third ones that quickly followed. He had expected some time to figure things out before anything was made official, but he of course had chosen a girl who was prepared to take what she wanted without fear of repercussions, and so, shortly after she had been picked up at the end of her grandparent’s dock, she curled into his side and announced that they were now together. Pope was taken aback, but was somewhat relieved that he no longer had to go through with his long-winded but very sweet gesture that he had planned in order to make things official. That relief, however, disappeared very quickly as he met JJ’s heated gaze.

“What ever happened to bro code?” He’d whined once they had gotten back to the chateau after dropping her back off that evening. “I mean, seriously man, I called dibs and you just swoop in before I even get to make a move.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Kie raised a hand to cut him off before he could spout any more nonsense, “You called dibs? Are you aware that we are talking about a real human girl here?”

“Not the point,” JJ ignored her, “You knew I liked her!”

“And you knew I did too!” Pope countered, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this beforehand but I never expected her to drop that on you guys like that.”

JJ shook his head, finishing the last of his beer and tossing the can to the side as he stormed towards the front door of the Chateau, “You just couldn’t let me have one thing now, could you Pope?”

Pope jumped to his own feet, brows furrowing as a look of disbelief crossed his face, “One thing? Do you even hear yourself? JJ, you can and have screwed around with every girl on this island; you always get first pick, and even the ones you leave for me are usually waiting for their chance to talk to you! God forbid the one girl I really like actually likes me back and isn’t just using me to get to you, but I guess that would be too hard for you to believe, huh?”

JJ frowned, opening his mouth to counter that argument when Sarah finally stepped in.

“Why are you even fighting over this?” She scoffed, “JJ, you have been here the entire time. If you were going to make a move you could have, but I really don’t think it would have made much of a difference. Like I said, you were here, you were an option, and she still chose Pope. Don’t throw your friendship with both of them away over her feelings, which none of you could have controlled even if you tried.”

JJ felt his breathing grow heavier, his emotions mixing with Sarah’s words of reason and sending him into a frenzy. He needed to be alone before he had the chance to blow up again, he needed time to think, so he stormed out of the Chateau without another word.

Two more weeks had passed, and all of them had gone back to normal. JJ was still a bit butthurt over it all, but made an effort to be his usual self. There was still a bit of tension between him and Pope, and the Heyward boy had even made an effort to plan more time away from the group with his new girlfriend, both out of respect for JJ’s feelings and out of a slight tinge of greed knowing that other eyes were looking at her in the same way he did. He had made an effort to not divulge any of what had happened to her, but he was sure that Sarah would have let at least some of it slip at some point.

The bonfire had been planned in honour of Kie’s birthday, though she had fled the party rather early, hand-in-hand with some dark-haired touron while her friends whooped and cheered. Most of the others had left by that point, leaving JJ, John B, Sarah, Pope, and Y/n alone to enjoy the slowly dying fire, the quickly dwindling alcohol supply, and the free-flowing music that played through John B’s beat up bluetooth speaker.

JJ sat on his folding chair, nursing his fourth beer of the night as he watched the girl twirl around and around with Sarah until they both stopped, alcohol-inspired giggles leaving their lips as they leaned against each other to regain their balance. They grinned at each other for a moment before Sarah leaned forward, pressing a gleeful kiss to her friend’s lips before pulling herself away.

“Heyward,” She called in a demanding voice, catching the attention of Pope, who’d already been watching his girlfriend with a lovesick stare, “Come get your lady, I need a break.”

Y/n grinned at him, eyes filling with love hearts at the sight of her boyfriend as she held out her grabby hands to him, beckoning him to join her, “Dance with me, Popey.”

Pope visibly cringed at the nickname, something she had never even once called him while sober, but still pushed himself off of his log and moved to meet her on the other side of the fire. 

JJ reached a hand out, stopping him from moving any further as Pope stared down at him with a challenging look. They stared for a quick beat before JJ moved his hand up into an all-too-familiar position. A small smile appeared on Pope’s lips as he clapped his own hand into his best friend’s, dapping him up for the first time in weeks.

“I love you, man,” JJ slurred.

“Love you too, JJ.”

“Pope!” Y/n placed her hands on her hips, impatiently waiting for him as Sarah collapsed into John B’s lap.

“Go get her, tiger,” JJ let go of his hand, making sure to pat his ass sharply as he walked past with a laugh, watching as he took the girl into his arms and began to slowly sway her back and forth to the beat of the song. 

Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck as the drinks she’d had began to transcend from energetic to sleepy in just moments. JJ watched on, a small frown appearing on his lips before it quickly switched to a soft smile.

Alright, maybe he was jealous, but he’d never seen Pope look so happy, so maybe it was all worth it. 

okay why did i actually eat this up

fr tho i love this pairing and little plot i have going so im def down to make this a mini series or do like hcs for this if ppl are interested if not just go ahead and tell me to stfu already

[indigovigilance]

The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death

read on Ao3

The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.

Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.

In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.

Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.

In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person. 

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard. 

~~~

The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry. 

Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.

Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

~~~

In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.

But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.

I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling. 

I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.