#like a child and john got t I

[gonzodangerfeels]

Today the winds call out to some ass-tastic flip if the script

We love our Danny boi but hate musky masa

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 6)

It was getting colder, the days shorter, the nights longer... which meant, you were now stuck with John and Simon buying clothes.

You all ate relatively quickly before that, considering you barely munched in a small burger and fries before giving all the rest to Simon, and soon enough, you were all in a children's clothing store.

You insisted that you didn't really need many clothes, maybe just a jacket, since you didn't have one, and going out without a jacket in this temperature is pratically a death sentence for a human.

So, at first, you did agree to buying clothes, they did seem worried too, so you figured, why not?

But at this point, as you watched them get way more than you first imagined, you were starting to panick a bit.

"I-I really don't need that many, r-really...!"

"There's no way we are letting you out when it's getting close to snowing without proper winter clothing." John huffs slightly, his voice sounding rough this way. "I know how delicate humans are to the weather, you need gloves, thick socks, beanies, warm jackets, pantyhoses..." He lists casually, not even looking your direction as he goes through the toddler's section of the clothing store.

You could only feel yourself being gently bounced on Simon's arms as he tries to reason with you.

"We do have a few clothes from our kids' younger years. But it's not that many, and we don't have socks, or gloves, or beanies, this small anymore."

You frown a bit in nervousness, not sure about all this, but there's little you could do against the stubborness of a dragon.

"Okay, this should be enough." John smiles, taking the bag of clothing to the cash register.

You sigh a little, tiredly leaning against Simon. You got used to him carrying you around, considering he has been doing this for a few hours without tiring at all.

And you also got used to the stares people threw your way... and the coos and aww's too....

But at this point, you were tired. So freaking tired. You weren't one to usually go out, like, ever. So, here you were, drooping slightly against Simon, your breathing getting slower.

"I know, I know, we're going back after this." Simon murmured close to your ear, adjusting your position on his arms so you could lean more against his chest and shoulder, a heavy, giant hand rubbing against your small back.

"Mhm... why... why didn't... the others come too...?" You mumble softly, not managing to contain yout curiosity any longer as you watched John pay for the clothes a few feet away.

"Johnny and Kyle are making last minute adjustments to the house." Simon answers simply, even tho you clearly had a confused expression on your face now.

"Adjustments....?"

"Just some simple stuff. Do you remember how you had to use a car seat to get here due to your height? We got the car seat before, but we still had to do some repairs around the house to be a better fit to your size."

"T-That's... Ah... o-okay..." You nod quietly, not knowing what to say to that.

Tho, you were pretty curious to know what kind of adjustments they did around the house.

"Ready to go?" John asks as he comes back close to you.

"Yeah. The kid's tired." Simon nods easily, already starting to make his way back to the parking lot, John right behind him.

"Of course they are. Let's hurry home then."

After waking up, strapped to the car seat as you felt the car come to a stop, John gently unbuckled you and set your feet on the ground, pushing you softly so you could go into the direction of the entrance, where both Johnny and Kyle were already waiting for you.

"Wee lass, come 'ere!!" Johnny smiles excitedly, only to scoop you up from the ground as soon as you got close enough.

It seems he couldn't hold his instincts in any longer. But... that's okay, considering you were in Simon's arms just some time ago.

Johnny immediatly started to nuzzle into you, taking you inside the house as his tail wagged behind him easily.

"Do ya wanna play with me, pup?" He asks, soft, but excited at the same time.

"They're tired, Johnny." Simon says as goes inside, giving a kiss to Kyle as they pass by eachother, John coming right behind with the things they bought. "Put them to nap a lil'."

Johnny pouts a little, ears pressing down and tail stopping.

"I really wanted to play with the pup..." He almost whines, holding you closer to him.

He felt so damn warm...

"Tav, remember when we had the babies for the first time?" Kyle comments, a soft smile on his face. "Imagine it's like that once again. No playing yet."

"Aye, aye." He sighs, and you try to contain a blush at how they talked about you like you weren't even there. "Time to sleep, yeah, pup? Maybe a bit of cuddles?" The hand that wasn't holding you against him goes to your wrist as he gently pushed his hand under your sweater sleeve, frowning a bit as he felt that you were indeed a bit cold. "Yeah, cuddles, pup. Warm yah right up, yeah?"

He was murmuring softly like he was deep in his instincts, that damn babyish talk coming out once again as the werewolf walked easily all the way back to your room and went inside, closing the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights.

"Need warm clothes now, saw that John got you some, very good..." He mumbled like he wasn't even talking to you, affected by his protective instincts. "Glooves, and a wool beanie, wee pup... all bundled up, and warm... let's get warm, yeah? Let's lay down, here..."

And he took you straight to the middle of the room, where the nest carved into the ground was. He didn't even hesitate as he simply threw himself onto the soft blankets and pillows, laying against them confortably and immedaitly putting you against his warm side, tucked between his chest and arm, pulling a blanket to tuck you in gently.

You could barely process what was happening, but you let him, actually feeling... confortable. It was warm, he was warm, and the weird nest thing was definetly soft. And you were tired... so tired, you spend a long time out of the house...

It wasn't a surprise that you fell asleep quickly against him, swearing that you could hear some kind of weird noise and fell some kind of weird vibration by your side. Do werewolves purr?

Well, you could always search later. Right now, you were busy napping against the big and warm werewolf, who thrilled and cooed happily at you.

[fanficsdumpomg]

Brozone x Reader (As Parents Headcanons)

John Dory:

*John Dory always dreamed of starting a family of his own during his young adult years but after brozone broke up and him hiking/adventuring the last decade that dream seemed further and further away.

*All that changed when he met you during his travels you too had a meet cute and after some slow burn you had finally gotten together! Suddenly John Dory felt a little less alone in his life, with his brothers back you both discussed starting your family together, and while you weren't actively trying; John was excited

*Which leads you to today, when you had woken up you discovered a turquoise egg with (H/C) nesting in your hair.

*John was ecstatic when you told him, to say the least, already planning many family adventures for your family.

*During the egg's nesting cycle you will have to fight this man to hold your child, he will constantly be bringing the egg everywhere and anywhere showing them new sights and smells. Also likes showing off the egg to other trolls, Like a toddler saying look at this cool thing i made!

*His bro's got him some dad-themed merchandise i.e. coffee cup that says world's best dad, a t-shirt that says which says soon-to-be dad which he wears with pride.

*Once the egg does hatch, he is going to be emotional all day.

*Y'all have a daughter who has his skin color and your (H/C).

*John Dory and you are pretty mellow parents, you let your kid do whatever as long as they are not breaking any laws/committing genocide/murder.

_________________________________________

Spruce:

*Bruce never had dreams of starting a family of his own, he was content with his life and when Brozone broke up he was content to go find a new purpose with his life.

*And that's when he met, you! You were a troll working for Brandi on Vacay Island and when she introduced the two of you, you hit it off and formed a relationship.

*Y'all were content with your lives and not looking to add anything else in the mix but all that changed when you woke up one morning with not one but two turquoise/purple eggs with (H/C) nesting in your hair.

*Bruce was nervous, you were nervous; what if you weren't ready to be parents? But Brandi and the other vacay islanders were there to assure you that no matter what they would be there to support you and be your family in this next stage.

*You both traded off in nesting the eggs, Bruce would take mornings and noon to let you rest and you would take afternoons and evenings to let Bruce rest.

*Bruce loves talking/snuggling to the eggs during his shifts. even though the little trolls had yet to be born he wanted them to know how much he loved them and that they'd always be a family no matter what

*When the eggs hatch, y'all are going to be swarmed with two hyperactive boy babies but honestly, you and Bruce wouldn't change anything and actually start trying for more once the twins have grown a little.

*Y'all Rock those Milf and Dilf vibes

_________________________________________________

Clay:

*Clay plans his life down to the very last scenario, even during his "fun boy" days he always planned on meeting the "one" and having a couple of trollings.

*Clay and you had met when he joined Putt-Putt village, you escaped with viva during the troll's escape from Bergen town. You and him had hit it off and with a little push from Viva you two had finally gotten together

*Clay and you are married for a year before you start actively trying for trollings.

*After a couple of months you both had given up hope of having trollings, I mean the other villagers could do it so easily why couldn't you??

*However your bad luck turned around when one day after waking up you noticed a bulging knot in your hair. Two small turquoise/lime green eggs with your (H/C) were nesting in your hair.

*Clay and you were ecstatic!! So was everyone in Putt-Putt Village; your small family finally felt complete.

*Clay is super annoying during the egg's nesting period, constantly following you around to protect you, limiting what kind of work you can do, how much rest you get, and what you eat. Honestly, you're pretty fed up with this man after this.

*When you're resting, he likes to keep the eggs safe in his hair. Man is like a feral dog with a piece of meat, will not let anyone near his eggs not even Viva; he will growl.

*Finally after a long two months, you're twins finally hatched! Two turquoise girls with your (H/C).

*Clay is definitely the strict parent, those protective instincts that arose during the eggs' nesting time are amplified to 100%. You are totally the girl's fun parent. Despite the differences in your parenting the girls love and respect the both of you!

________________________________________________________

Floyd:

*Floyd like his older brother had always wanted to start a family but that became like a distant dream after Brozone broke up, starting his solo career, and getting kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer.

*After his eventual rescue and recovery with Branch in Troll Village, he met you; a friend of Poppy's.

*Poppy saw how hard the two of you were crushing on each other and pushed the two of you together which led to your eventual dating and marriage!

*A month after the marriage, to your surprise; you had found a turquoise/red egg with your (H/C) nestling in your hair.

*You were ecstatic but Floyd was nervous. He had always wanted to have a child but what if he screwed up his relationship with them like he did with Branch.

*But after some gentle reassurances from his brothers, Poppy and Viva; he felt ready to take on this next phase of his life albeit anxiously.

*Cries every time he receives gifts for the baby, cries when he feels the egg kick inside its shell, and cries every day about how lucky he is. Man is taking all the emotions during the incubating period.

"Floyd would be too nervous to nest the egg in his hair so you would be the main nester for the duration of the incubation period.

*When the hatching day is here, Floyd is a bubbling mess. Cries throughout the entire day but those are happy tears that your baby is finally and your family is complete.

*Y'all have a healthy boy troll with your (H/C). Your baby is so chill too, rarely cries and loves to play and giggle

*As your child grows, Floyd is definitely the parent who would let the child get away with everything. You are going to have to be the rule-setter.

_________________________________________________

Branch:

*Branch has been alone for a long time, his brothers left him and his grandma had gotten eaten trying to protect him from a Bergen. So he had a deep desire to recreate the feeling of family he had once lost.

*But you had always been by his side since you two were you and through everything so it makes sense about the major crushes you two had on each other.

*After regaining his colors, Branch finally had the confidence to ask you out and you happily accepted; (even though you loved Branch no matter what).

*Y'all dated for a couple years and then were married before he discussed wanting children with you. To his surprise and excitement, you too had also wanted to have kids.

*So began your journey of trying for little trollings.

*A year after getting married you were surprised and excited to spot three turquoise/blue eggs with your (H/C) nesting in the knot in your hair.

* Branch goes feral during the nesting time. you will have to fight/argue with him to leave the bunker because he will try to keep you down during the nesting period.

*Will growl at anyone who comes near you and the eggs; only lets his brothers and poppy (with supervision) come around and see you and the eggs.

*Branch loves to carry the eggs in his hair when you need a break. Spends time talking/reading to them and telling them how much he loves them and can't wait to meet them.

*Poppy, Viva, and his brothers throw a baby shower for y'all and while Branch cringes at the dad-themed merchandise he is gifted, he secretly loves them and wears them all the time around the bunker with pride.

*Then when hatching day comes along, Branch is in a panic. What if he wasn't a good dad, what if they hate him?? But after he sees his little trollings, those worries dissipate.

*Y'all have two healthy boys and one healthy girl.

*Branch's protective instincts go from 100% to 10000% after the trolls are born. Your children definitely have Branch wrapped around their fingers and can get anything if they look cute or beg hard enough.

__________________________________________

[chaosandmarigolds]

(Did the poll say happiness and rainbows? Yeah but I’m having fun with my angst so here’s more! :) )

“No I want to see him.”

The officer looked at the man, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and she narrows her eyes, “As I had told you, sir, Mister Taylor asked for no visitors unless family. And are you related to Missus Taylor or Oliver?” The question was a mock because she knew the answer.

So, with a bite of a tongue Price relented, “Who’s your supervisor?”

“He’s out of office.”

“Fuckin- course he is. Where’s Riley?”

“Mister Riley is currently in questioning.”

Price frowned, “But you already questioned him.”

The officer shrugged, “Our lead detective thought it best to do a second round.”

“Then I want to speak to your lead detective.”

“You and everyone else, take a ticket.”

-

To say your hands were shaking would be an understatement, you had been sitting in Johnny’s car for a close to an hour and so far you probably lost half your body weight in tears. It seemed unreal, there was no way it was actually reality, after all you had been through. It was just….

You jolt when someone knocks on the glass window, only to see Eliza by the door and you let out breath, quickly getting out of the car and into her arms.

“T-they still have Simon in questioning and-and he’s not answering my calls-“

“I know, John’s taking care of it. Oh honey,” her voice was a bit rasped and she looks you over, “You look like a mess.”

Your chest heaves for air as you ramble to her, telling her about how they took you all to the station at four in the morning and how everything was working against your favor. You both sat on the curb outside, as Johnny’s car was an incubator, her arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders and hands holding the coffee she had gotten you.

“Johnny went-Johnny went to be with Ollie, they…they wouldn’t let me see him.”

Eliza scoffs at that, “Bastards. Keeping a child from his mother.”

—

In hindsight it wasn’t best idea.

However, it did do its job. What job was that? Who knew.

“Uh oh,” Ollie whispered from the other side of the conference table, looking to his biological father (who was currently doubled over while clutching his nose), “You made uncle soap maaad.”

“You fucking bitch!” Caleb practically screamed, “I’ll have your job!”

Johnny stood perfectly still for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined he punched him or if it was reality and he then snapped into the situation, “Ah please, as i’ you go’ a job tha’s all high n mighty.”

It took about a minute before an officer came back in to check on everything, and thanks to a somewhat threatening stare Caleb had just said he got a bloody nose and everything was alright.

“Oliver, come on. We’re leaving.”

“But I don wanna go.”

With a tug and hoist Oliver was being carried on Caleb’s side, “Didn’t ask we have a flight to catch.”

-

“For the fucking millionth time she had Oliver when I met her.”

“According to these files Oliver was with his father.”

“Bullshit!!!” Simon snipped back, his anger growing with each second. Every file, data bank, Facebook post made it seem like Oliver lived with Caleb until he went ‘missing’ two weeks ago. “Look at the bank statements why would she pay insurance for a child she doesn’t even have?”

The detective sighed, “We did, Mister Riley, she’s not paying for any child’s health insurance.”

This was insane.

“Mister Riley, I am going to ask one final time: did you help Missus Taylor take her son?”

With a glare Simon leaned forward on the table, “Didn’t fucking take him, because he’s ’een here wit us for ‘is entire life.”

-

“Caleb?” You slowly move to stand up as you watch your ex husband carry your son out of the station, and within a millisecond your blood was cold, “Oliver?”

“Mommy!” The boy practically screeched at the sight of you, trying to pry himself away from the man’s grasp, “Mommy I don’t wanna go!”

Before you had the chance to get to the car Caleb was currently putting Oliver into, you were held back.

“Lassie, lassie easy-“

“Johnny let-let me go.”

Johnny, with close to zero effort, turns you to face him, “Leave it. It’s gonna be okay, go’ a plan yeah? Ollie’s gonna be in his bed tonight, promise.”

(Teehee, that’s all for now)

[missmarveledsblog]

What best friends are for (Bucky Barnes x Reader ) 18+

SUMMARY : When john walker makes off handed remarks about the newest female avenger not taking into the account she is the female best friend of bucky , well it snaps something in the former assassin , when he goes to confess his feeling he catches reader in a situation of her own .

warnings : yes this bitch is a smut so if under 18 do not read . it's a bucky barnes smut that should be warning enough, goofy fluffy smutty fun

"STANK DID YOU EAT THE LAST OF THE POPTART " YN voice called through the compound .

"Ok first of stank really .... that was good but uncalled for second of all before you go blaming me remember point break is the pop tart addict in this household baby avenger " Tony grinned thinking he got away with it little did he know the evidence was all over his black sabbath t-shirt.

" For a genius mind stark you sure are dumb thor's been in new asgard for last 3 months and you've pop tart all over your stupid face and shirt " her foot tapped the floor increasingly annoyed. After her long as mission she just wanted to burrito herself in a blanket eat pop tarts and binge a series or two . Tony praying for a miracle and looking for an exit strategy when his miracle walked in with Steve and nat .

" hey Yn what's wrong " Nat being Nat making sure one Y/N was ok and two well any reason to slap start was welcome .

"Stink ate the last of my poptart " she pouted breaking not only nats heart but Tony miracle escape plan bucky opening his mouth and saving the day .

" come on малышка ( baby girl) . I hid some for you " bucky grinned as her face lit up . Ever since y/n came to the compound he swore life gotten a million times better , this woman who was sarcastic ball of sunshine . It also helped that she's most beautiful woman he's ever seen , spent most of his time making sure he could make that smile happen .

He never believed in love and first sight til she walked into meeting two years ago asking fury " aye nicky where can a girl get some good food around here " . The room went silent Tony being the first to break out laughing the rest following suit some agent paled at the words being so chill with one of the scariest men in the world in their eyes .

......

As now sat in a Burrito cocooned blanket , her eyes couldn't help stealing glances at the beautiful specimen she called a bestfriend the light of life itself and the supplier of a poptart habit that could rival the god of thunder himself .

" I've to tell you something buckshot it kinda of important .... you saved dipshits ass today I could be on the raft by now " he chuckled thinking it was her sense of humour when in fact it was a confession changed because she chickened out midway through , common problem she had around the man .

" yeah I just couldn't deal with the headlines imagine iron man dies due to poptart issue , fellow avenger charged " he tried to hold his laughter .

"Well well well who do we have here " her whole body cringed at the voice behind, there stood John walker America's wish version of Steve Rogers stood his eyes draping over her body , making her want to bathe in a volcano alone .

"Ah the poster child for Chad's everywhere is gracing us with his presence what do we owe the dishonour " y/n smiled so sweetly .

"Yn be nice he only here to collect something for fury " Sam quipped as he walked into the room .

" well buckshot , birdbrain I'm off to soak my troubles away enjoy wannabe cap " they watch her flip john the bird and skipped off not wanting to be in the room any longer making bucky want to pout at the loss of her company ... or at least he thought he wasn't but .....

" you got it bad my man I'd skip a girl like that she nothing but trouble, I could take her for you I'm sure I could handle her better since i am more this time " John stupid mouth began to move while Sam was texting nat to get John size for casket .

" A dame like her doesn't need a dipshit like you and son you couldn't handle her, she would kill you quicker than you could draw you a breath out of your measly body " he snarled as his body stiffened at thought of this man even trying to get her attention .

" FURYS BITCH MR STANK WOULD LIKE YOU TO COME TO THE LAB " .

"YN STOP HACKING F.R.I.D.A.Y BUT ALSO NICE ONE ON THE FURY'S BITCH " Tony voice echoed through the intercom .

"Fucking bitch , nevermind she's lost her chance " John snarled leaving Sam and bucky laughing til the cried .

"Language " .

" really steve " Sam laughing harder than he was before .

"It just slips out but I will admit Yn hacking F.r.i.d.a.y was hilarious I wish I was here to see John or Tony's face " steve couldn't hold the chuckle coming out . Bucky head moving in different direction, that direction was to her , for two years she was in his head non stop and if she wasn't in his head , the two were doing everything together and the countless night he thought of her under him didn't help either .

" I gotta go tell her " suddenly braved he ran to find her , his own thoughts not wanting to waste anymore time . He couldn't think straight knowing john walker or any man could try stake their claim .

As she lay in the tub overjoyed at latest achievement wishing she'd seen John stupid face falter when F.r.i.d.a.y called him furys bitch but also knowing she could get the footage later in the evening . Yet her mind kept wandering to her best friend , how he would cheer her up , make her days brighter and how he made her clenched your thighs . past the point of feeling guilty and becoming wetter as her mind thought about him fucking little pussy hard . nor she couldn't help the hand slipping down between her legs like it had a mind of it own , running it through her folds as thoughts about bucky thrusting in her pussy while a firm grasp lost in her hair , the sickening sound of skin slapping against each other .

"Oh fuck. Fuck yes just like that sarge " she whimpered circling now puffy Clit . moans drowning out the noise of the bedroom door opening as bucky made his way in .

He didn't want to stay but hearing those moans fuck it he felt like he died and went to heaven , angels singing just for him . His body betraying his mind as he opened the bathroom door the sight nearly killed him alone beautiful soaking wet body arched and sweet moans filling the room .

" yess just like that sarge fuck " those moans and sloshing water like a sweet melody to his ears . The sentence that stop her dead in your tracks a deep growl making her eyes flying open " FUCK doll you make a lot of pretty sound but I can make you scream them " . Before she could react bucky kissed as he stripped not wanting to waste a second more . It felt right, like it was normal for them ,something in it it that made sense . Moaning into the kiss she rose from the bath pulling back baring herself for her best friend .

" please bucky " she cried as her lips hit his again .

The clash of tongues and teeth the raw passion hitting both. Knowing the border between bestfriend's was so far away , would need to flight to reach it again . None of it mattered the feelings clear enough in the kiss alone knew this was real .

" please sarge I need you " sweet little kisses down his neck . There and then bucky knew he was never letting go .

" so needy my little baby doll " grinning as he took her nipple in his mouth wanting to hear those moans coming from her mouth like he was addicted to them , fuck he was addicted to her and he was finally getting his fill. Dreams becoming reality kissing down this body, one he dreamt of most nights to keep the nightmares at bay . Each touch giving him the clear sign he was one causing it. her body was his to have and he wasn't giving that up . The smell of her arousal taunting and teasing to send him almost primitively feral . It was sweetest smell that ever filled his nostrils . Jesus he knew it would be sweeter than anything he could or would ever taste , almost like the apple that tempted eve . Kissing soft plush thighs as he took in the vision of her bare pussy staring right at him . It was better than any dream or thought he could ever have .

" please James stop teasing me " .

"What do you want baby doll use your words " he wanted to hear those sweet lips tell him .

" I need to feel you ... touch me, fuck me please sarge " .

That was it he was gone eye so dark with lust as he licked teasingly long stripes of your folds.

" Oh fuck baby doll you taste heavenly " his tongue exploring her folds like it was his sole mission , before his mouth greedily sucked her clit. too good she was sure she drowned in the tub and this was heaven . Crying out in pleasure as the man she was undisputedly in love with devoured her like it was his last meal and first meal all at one . the feeling of his tongue alone had the coil tighten with each movement but when he began to slip a finger in it felt like heaven on earth .

" oh fuck bucky i'm going to ... .hey what the fuck" she cried at the lost of contact , brows furrowed in such confusion .

" im sorry baby but when you cum i wanna feel you on my cock " he chuckled at her desperate whines ." you ready doll i need your words " he beautiful ocean filled eyes stared into her soul and telling him with a little nod.

" please bucky i want you to you to fuck me " pussy clenching at nothing desperately hoping for for some release . the pornagraphic moan that came out of her mouth bucky could of came at that alone, she really didn't understand it , how much of a hold on the man she had from the first time he ever saw her and yet she was gonna find out .

" fuck baby your pussy was made for me so tight you're mine baby no one can fuck this pussy i'm gonna make sure shes ruined for anyone else " he groaned each thrust getting harder and deeper .

" fuck bucky i'm your only yours , i've only ever been yours " she cried in pleasure never feeling something so perfect ,the coil tightening more and more, .

" cum for me baby be my good girl ".

the dirty filth coming from his mouth was enough to push over the edge walls clenching around his cock and screams of pleasure filling the room was enough to send bucky over edge his seed hitting her cervix and painting the walls of her cunt .

the room filled with panting both in their own pleasure filled states as bucky lay beside laying her on his chest so tenderly a completely different contrast in his movement before . he couldn't love her anymore than he did and yet it felt like it was .

" i meant what i said buckshot im yours i dont think i could be with anyone else " she said nuzzling herself further into his neck.

" and i'm yours baby doll i always was that day you walked into the meeting i was a goner " kissing her head then her lips . both hearts feeling complete of love as they both dosed off clung together in perfect bliss .

bonus :

"remind me to add sound proof to her room " a scarred tony walked out out the room .

" so furys bitch i see you were wrong it seems our soldier can indeed handle our little spit fire "nat smirked walking to her room .

" as much as i love that they proved him wrong i am traumatised and steve's been a tomato i think they broke him " sam wince joking as his super soldier friend was blushing beat red .

both following the widows lead and leaving a defeated walker to collect his ego and files wanting to leave as soon as possible.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 21 - "Just in case this doesn't work."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Inspired by this Post about Danny bullshiting his way by saying he is Tims future kid. Also once again posting this early, cause I need to destress tomorrow and not worry about writing or work or anything.

Edit: Thanks to @kisatamao in the comments I found the post again that inspired this and linked it!

"Chronus"

"Nowadays I go by Clockwork."

"Fine, Clockwork then."

"John Constantine."

The Ancient of Time and Justice League Dark members stared at each other blankly. Until the ruler of time smiled and Constantine sighed. "How is the time baby doing?"

"Very well. Your timeline is safe. There was an incident that could have possibly splittend the timeline again and in a way it did but the destruction timeline was once more prevented, by the child himself like I hoped for. Three times now."

Constantine grunted, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You know if Bats or any of his kids ever learn about this I will be the one to take the burn right?"

Clockwork only smiled a knowing smile and Constantine paled. "When?"

"Where is the fun if you knew. The little Drake has been quite unpredictable and entertaining." The Ancient mused floating around the room and Constantine's eyes narrowed.

"There won't be a paradox?"

Clockworks tilted his head with a mischievous smile on his face. "Well the timeline in which he was born no longer exists and his father of this time line has ceased his efforts in cloning. He never even got to the point of trying to combine his own DNA with the one he so desperately wanted to clone."

"I feel like I am hearing secrets I definitely do not want to know. Just tell me if this timeline is safe or not now."

"It is safe. Your timeline has now a true Ancient of Balance in the making and just in case this doesn't work, I have anchored Daniel's existence in this timeline with several means one of which was his own time clone created from a split of destruction line."

Constantine's eyes twitched. "For all of our sakes I hope Bats never finds out about this. If he ever learns that I replaced a still born with a grandson of his from a different destruction timeline… You know what, I am not nearly drunk enough for any of this mate!"

Clockwork chuckled, his eyes glinting with unhidden amusement. "Well John Constantine, would you like a word of advice?"

The JLD member took another long drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt of it somewhere to the side. "No riddle."

"When 17 turns to 4 it is not the grandfathers, you should fear."

"I said no riddles!" Constantine huffed as clockwork disappeared from his side. He brushed his hair with one hand, glaring at the spot where the Ancient of Time had been. He should have never agreed to help that damned being 15 years ago, having been somewhat of a beginner then John did not realize what kind of deal he had agreed on.

Now he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or fearful of the consequences. Especially now that he had worked with the Bat Family a couple of times already.

Exactly one year later Constantine decided he was fucking fearful!

Unknown to the Brite a lot of things can happen in three years. Like Parents turning on their child after accidentally learning about a truth. A teenager that was already hurt trying to salvage whatever peace he could.

—--

"Mom! Dad! I swear it's still me, Danny!"

"Give me back my baby boy you monster!"

—--

A governmental organisation committing mass genocide on an interdimensional species.

—--

"Ember, get out of here! Now!"

"Baby Pop! What about the others?!"

"Dan already released them! Get out of here! I will hold them off and keep them busy!"

—----

The interdimensional species try to convince said teenager fighting for them to forgo humanity.

—--

"Welp, this can't go on. No hunt is worth this much."

"Give it up already. The humans made their decision."

"They broke too many rules, it is time they suffer the consequences."

—--

A heavy conflicted ending with the teenager receding into its core and getting picked up by one of his papa from a different timeline.

—--

"What kind of crystal is that? It radiates a pretty strange but familiar energy."

"I wanna see! I wanna see!"

"If it's not dangerous, why not keep it?"

"It looks like there are snowflakes in it."

—--

The kid then reformed out of his core in his ghost age instead of human age with a green note appearing on his forehead. Said note confusing the kids papa making him contact the kids dad.

—--

"Tim you won't believe this…"

"Kon you sound weird, what is going on?"

"Remember that shiny crystal I picked up at the end of our last case?"

"The one with the snowflakes in it, yes."

"I think I just became a dad."

"WHAT?!"

—--

Which then led to the dad overanalyzing the note while the kid insisted that a certain ghost was involved. The child's grandparents then getting tipped off through the grandchild of the Ancient Constantine still curses in his mind.

—--

"So Pandora mentioned something to me."

"Hn."

"Have you tried asking Constantine about it? He is apparently in contact with a being that likes to write cryptic messages on green notes, or that's what Pandora told me at least."

"..."

"And your new grandchild came with such a note right?"

—--

And now John Constantine was fearing for his life, because Batman had tried to contact him several times now. Several times Constantine had found reasons to ignore. Only for the Bat to come knocking on his door -well more like rudely kicking it down- with fucking Super too! He was cursing up a storm internally and thinking of how best he could get out of whatever had crawled up the two hero's asses when right behind the two hero's stood another set of hero's he did not want to face especially when he noticed one of them holding a four years old toddler in his arms.

"Chronus you fucking asshole!" The Brite muttered to himself as the four hero's plus time baby stood before him demanding answers.

That was when the toddler piped up, eyes glowing a bright green. "So Clockwork does have something to do with this! I knew it!"

"Danny, sweetheart not now. You can tell us you were right after we figured out what timeline you are from and if we need to send you back or can keep you." Red Robin calmed the now pouting toddler Super Boy was holding and petting with a small chuckle. While Batman and Superman turned on Constantine.

[featherandferns]

daylight - two

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 2 of the daylight series | read part 1 here

content warnings: drinking, mentions of sex

word count: 3k.

blurb: you join jj's friends at the chateau and find yourself playing hot seat.

“No.”

“Come on! It’s cute!”

“I mean this with all due respect: burn that top.”

Rolling your eyes, you look down at your t-shirt. You’d thrifted it from a shop near the harbour. Born to fish, made to work. You thought it was hilarious, and it was washed and worn-down into comfort. Stretched at the collar and slightly big on your frame, you fell in love. Mimsy? Not so much. 

“It’s funny. I think it’ll go down well,” you tell her, keeping it on. You tuck the front into your pair of shorts before sitting down at your desk. Grabbing your hair brush, you begin taming your hair. 

“This is the first time you’re meeting hot-mechanic-man’s friends and that’s what you’re wearing?” Mimsy says, disapproval heavy in her voice. “God, you really are lost without me.”

Mimsy had dubbed JJ ‘hot-mechanic-man’ after you recounted the story from two nights ago, when your car decided to call it quits on some random country road. All you’d done was tell her his name and that he was from the Cut, and she’d stalker master-minded her way to his Instagram. It was just as you had pictured it to be. Snaps of him surfing, some shirtless (score), and photos of him smoking. His friends were on there too. You’d counted it as homework for tonight in your sleuthing. John B with a head of brown-ish hair, curled and fairly long; Kiara with a brimming smile and ‘save the turtles’ branded backpack; Pope with his awkward grin which did not match his well-toned body. They seemed fun from the photos.

There was a video on his Instagram which you think Mimsy might have watched fifteen or so times. It was of JJ shot-gunning a beer with John B, stood in a yard beside a campfire. You’d watched it too, eyes fixated on his bobbing Adam’s apple, and promptly clicked out of the video. So, despite your teasing, you were grateful for Mimsy’s talents. 

“How’re you getting there? Parents giving you a ride?”

“I’ll skate,” you say. 

Mimsy nods. “Is it a good skate scene out there?”

“S’alright,” you shrug. Flashing her a smile through the camera, you say, “would be better if you were here.”

“Yeah, well, most things are,” she jokingly returns. The smile that follows is solemn. The two of you missed each other like crazy. 

Mimsy looks past the camera into a mirror and continues working glitter onto her eyelid. It sparkles against her tanned skin. She's going out tonight to your usual haunt. Fake IDs got you into a social-club style bar in your local area, where most of your friends went. You missed the smell of liquor that clung to the walls and that uncomfortable tackiness of the floors. 

“You nervous about meeting his friends, then?”

“I guess,” you say. “Kinda nervous about meeting him again.”

“Yeah, hot guys will have that effect on you,” Mimsy returns with a cheeky grin. 

Rolling your eyes, you go to fire something back but get interrupted by a crackled yell through the speaker. Mimsy turns around in her chair, towards her door, and hollers back to her mother in Spanish. 

“Pol el amor de Dios,” she mumbles as she turns back to the camera. “Sorry, babes. Gotta go.”

“Have fun!” you grin. 

“Oh, you too,” she returns with a telling wink. Then she clicks off the screen. Your room is unnaturally quiet without her voice and company.

Checking the time, you get to your feet, pull on a pair of beat-up Reboks, and grab your bag and penny board. Jogging down the stairs of the two-story home, you call out to your parents. Your dad mumbles his reply just as you slip out the door. You take off down the street and head towards the address JJ text you. Your backpack is heavy with beer cans and unopened chips, and your cased digital camera. It felt wrong to leave your house without some form of camera: polaroid, digital, disposable. You were attached like a child to a safety blanket. 

As you pull onto the road which supposedly leads up to John B’s house, the amount of tarmac depletes. Making the rest of the way on foot, you’re only semi-cautious as you start down a dirt trail to an old fish shack that’s only just visible through overgrown shrubs and trees. The echo of energetic chatter which carries to you calms your worry. You round the corner to find JJ stood on top of a tree stump, arms expanded as he tells a story. When his eyes catch yours, he stops mid-sentence and jumps down. 

“Yo! You made it!”

The rest of the gang turns as JJ bounds over to you. He grabs you by the shoulders and coaxes you into the gathering. 

“This is the girl I was telling you guys about,” he says to his friends. 

They nod, wave and smile their greetings. JJ stands behind you, hands planted on your shoulders, and announces your name like you’re visiting royalty. 

“That’s John B, Kiara and Pope,” he introduces. You think you do a good job acting like you’ve never seen any of them before. 

"You're the damsel in distress JJ's been telling us about?" Kiara asks.

Laughing, you say, "that's not how I'd describe myself but sure."

The group smiles. John B nods down at the penny board you’re carrying. “You skate?”

“No, no, I just carry it around for street cred,” you dryly return. Pope sniggers. 

“See! Told you she was funny!” JJ says. He makes his way to the beer cooler. “Beer or seltzer?”

“Beer,” you reply.

He tosses a can to you like he did at the garage. You catch and crack it open, and then take the empty lawn chair beside Kiara. She’s sitting crossed legged, nursing a bottle. The only lighting comes from the porch behind you. Everyone is sat in a wonky circle, lounging in their various seats. JJ has claimed the hammock. Chickens coo in a run not far from the group. The marsh water near John B’s home soothingly laps at the land. Crickets and owls accompany the quiet hum of music playing from a beat-up Bluetooth speaker. 

“You came at the perfect time,” Kiara tells you. “JJ was just telling us a very interesting story.”

“Thank you, for that,” he replies, gliding past the almost-insult. “As I was saying, Priss snuck outta the party and nobody knows where she's at, right? Then, I'm heading out and guess who I fuckin' see her mackin' on? Fuckin' Bradley G.”

"You're so full of shit," John B snorts, shaking his head.

"I swear on my life! I swear on my God blessed grave, Priss and Brad G hooked up at that keggar the other night!"

You glance at JJ's friends and nobody seems very convinced.

"You're not allowed to go to parties unsupervised anymore," Pope says in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Shut up, Pope. Like you ever go to parties anyway," JJ mutters before taking a hefty swig of his drink.

Rolling her eyes, Kie looks to you. “Anyway. JJ says you’re new to Kildare?”

“Yep,” you reply. 

“Where abouts you living? On the Cut?”

“Yeah, about ten minutes from here, actually,” you say. “Thanks for letting me hang with you guys by the way.”

“Course,” she smiles. 

“Oh!” You suddenly remember your bag. Delving in, you produce two large bags of chips. “I brought snacks and drinks too.”

John B gets up and gladly takes the beers from you, placing them in the cooler with thanks. Kie tosses a bag of chips to JJ before opening the other, offering it around.

For a while there’s little chatter as you all relax. Kie hums along to the Bob Marley song that plays and Pope reads. John B’s head is reclined back, eyes shut, and a cloud of smoke sometimes billows out from the hammock cocoon JJ’s placed himself in. It’s reminiscent of how your friends used to be back in Vancouver. Chilled and cool, no pressure. 

JJ breaks the quiet with a groan, shifting to sit up. “A'right. I’m bored. Let’s play a game or something.”

“Not strip poker again,” Pope demands. 

“Oh come on! Why not!?” JJ protests. 

Kie rolls her eyes. “Because you’re a card shark.”

“And because you always end up getting your dick out,” John B tags on. You snort into your can. 

“Alright, alright, what then? I can’t be arsed setting up beer pong,” JJ grumbles, plopping himself down in a seat just opposite you. 

“What about hot seat?” you offer. The group looks to you. 

“Hot seat?”

“Yeah, it’s when someone sits down in a chair and they’re grilled for five minutes by the group. Any questions, no rules. If they don’t wanna answer, they drink,” you explain. “It’s fun.”

“I’m down,” Kie shrugs. 

“Me too,” Pope agrees. John B nods. 

JJ gets up, grabbing another abandoned seat (I mean, are these things multiplying?) and placing it in view of everyone, mimicking that of a courtroom layout. 

“Alright, who’s first?” he asks. After a round of highest-lowest, Pope winds up in the hot seat. He shifts nervously as Kie readies her timer. 

“Ready? Go!”

With that, an influx of questions follow. They range in severity: some joking and trivial and others bordering on existential. Pope drinks only once when asked if he’s into anybody, and before more prying can follow, the timer goes off. 

“Now you get to choose who goes next,” you explain, somewhat giddy with the others. 

“John B, you’re up,” Pope prompts. They swap seats and the group eggs the brunette on as he steels himself for questioning. The timer starts and the questions begin. 

“Blow job or hand job?”

“Blow job,” John B answers JJ. 

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

“Do you think the Royal Merchant is real?”

“Damn straight,” John B replies. You frown. Royal Merchant? 

“Hottest girl in the county?”

John B deliberates. When he seemingly can’t decide, he takes a drink. More silly questions follow, most of which stem from JJ, and the group starts to crack up. The alcohol helps, easing everyone out of any boundaries. When John B’s round finishes, it’s followed by Kiara. She takes a joking bow before hopping into the seat. She’s calm and collected under their scrutiny. Rolls her eyes at JJ’s prying queries and entertains your own curious questions. From the way the group answers, and what they answer, you gain a better sense of their personalities. JJ is the next one up. He throws his hands up as he walks over, as if he’s heading into a boxing ring. He then man-spreads in the seat, shorts hitching up his muscular quads, and vapes as Kiara resets the timer. As your eyes skim up and down his body, they return to his face to find him watching you, amused. 

“Timer’s going,” Kiara says. You snap your eyes away from his.

“Favourite sex position?” John B asks. 

“Damn, that’s a tough one,” JJ replies. His finger swipes his lip almost tauntingly as he deliberates. You’re shamelessly intrigued. “Toss up between doggy and missionary.”

“Weed or beer?”

“What!? That’s evil!” JJ argues. “Weed, I guess.”

“Surfing or fishing?”

“Surfing. No! Fishing. No, no, wait…Can I choose both?”

You chorus with the others: “drink!”

He does as he’s told, swigging back his can. Nods when he’s done to prompt another question. 

“If you could travel somewhere in the world, where would you go?” you ask.

JJ looks to you. His answer comes quick. “Anywhere. Fuck it - everywhere! I’d go to Mexico, and then Brazil, and then Argentina, and then I’d go to the Caribbean islands to see what’s happening there. And then Japan and China and all those places, and then a little backpacking stint around Europe and stuff. Finish off in Africa with the elephants and shit.”

The group hums their approval. As you glance around, you get the sense none of them have been very far. Neither had you. The farthest you’d ever been was North Carolina. Your family had never ventured out of Vancouver before; the only reason your parents had settled on North Carolina was because of your dad’s ties. He was born here and grew up not far from Kildare, in Wilmington. You think he might have been chasing nostalgia when he announced that you were all moving to Kildare. 

“You into anyone right now?” Pope asks. 

“Why? You offering yourself up?” JJ teases. Pope rolls his eyes, mumbling jerk under breath. “Yeah, I am.”

“Who?” Kie prompts, curious. 

JJ’s eyes flash back to you and a telling smirk sneaks onto his face. “She already knows who she is.”

The group’s low whistles and ‘oo’s aren’t the only cause for your flushing. JJ’s stare is too. It flits down your figure tactfully before returning to your eyes, smirk only wider. You clear your throat, press your legs together and sip your beer. The timer goes off. 

“Who’s up?” John B asks JJ.

“New girl,” JJ replies, clearing the seat for you to take his place. You gladly do so, laughing at the applause and whoops that come from the others. 

“Do your worst,” you grin, squiffy from the beers.

Kiara starts the timer and the gang comply with your request. 

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” 

You bark out a laugh at Pope’s question. “Shit, starting off heavy. Um…Crashed my friend’s bike.”

“As in push-bike?”

“As in dirt bike,” you cringe. “Brand new dirt bike.”

“Damn, that is rough,” John B chuckles. 

“Thing you like the most about yourself?”

“We talking physically or...?”

“Intellectually,” Kiara clarifies. 

“And physically,” JJ happily tags on. 

“Physically? My wrists, I guess. Don’t ask, I know that’s weird,” you laugh. “And intellectually…” Your eyes downfall to the grass ahead as you ponder. “Maybe my faith in others? I always try and see the best in people.”

Kiara nods, content with your response. 

“What about the thing you dislike most about yourself? Intellectually, that is,” Pope wonders. 

Your smile twists. “My faith in others.”

It was a double edged sword: you’d learnt that the hard way. You wash down the memories with a swig of beer. 

“Body count?”

The sudden change in tone makes you laugh.

“You can’t just ask a girl her body count!” you exclaim through your giggles. JJ exaggerates his shrug. 

“Why the hell not!? Anything goes right?”

You shake your head with a smile. As you sip your drink, you stare JJ down. 

“Alright, favourite sex position then,” Kie says.

You comply with that question. Grinning, you say, “cowgirl. Or reverse cowgirl. Either, really.”

John B whistles as Kiara teases, "okay, girl, okay."

“If you had to hook-up with anyone here, who would it be?” JJ asks. 

Laughing, you look to the sky as you toss back your head. “I met most of you guys like two hours ago!”

“Going off first-impressions, then,” JJ says. You can hear the grin in his voice. 

There’s an obvious answer, at least to you. It’s the blonde who you’ve spent the whole night trying not to stare at. His rugged handsomeness and bedroom eyes mixed with the sheen of daytime sweat and sunscreen that settled on his skin, bathing him in beauty...Fuck, it’s not fair people like that exist. You want to know the recipe God used to make him. Want to keep it to yourself so he can’t make it anymore.

Fixing your posture, you train your eyes on JJ. Then, you take a long, long sip of your drink. Kiara laughs under her breath with John B. You swear you see JJ’s demeanour darken. It’s like a game of who can break first. In the end, it’s you, thanks to the surprise of the timer. 

“That’s time…”

“John B. Get your butt back in this chair,” you say, getting to your feet.

He does as asked whilst you return to your old spot. When you glance up, you find JJ watching you. There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips and a barely-there expression on his face, but you can’t decipher what either means. There’s something uncomfortably familiar about it though. Reminds you of the same type of smile you saw almost a year ago, back in Vancouver, on a different guy's features. You look away and wash it down with your drink.

The game eventually dies down after two more rounds, without you or JJ returning to the hot seat. By now everyone is bordering on drunk.

The energy has amped up and the atmosphere is upbeat. As Kie, Pope and John B fall into a loud debate about something or other, JJ finds the spot next to you. He nudges your leg with his. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you smile. “Thanks for inviting me along tonight.”

“Course. You thinking you might a Pogue?”

“Maybe, maybe,” you reply non-committedly. You take another sip of your beer. 

“Look, uh, I’m sorry if I weirded you out at all tonight, with all the hot-seat things,” JJ randomly says. 

Frowning, you look at him. “It didn’t weird me out. I told you that at the garage, didn’t I? That it doesn't bother me?”

“Yeah, but, after tonight…Just don’t want to make you feel weirded out around me,” he replies. 

It’s sweet that he cares about that. JJ seems the kind who talks first and apologies later. Whilst you know half of it's joking, you appreciate him checking that you’re comfortable with it. You’d had flirty guy friends before. Hell, you had flirty girl friends too. Mimsy, to name one. Maybe the different thing here was that you wouldn’t exactly turn JJ down. It wasn’t him that was keeping you at bay.

“Nah, you’re good,” you say. Glancing down, you watch your sneakers fidget in the grass. “I just, uh…I just have a lot going on right now and I don’t wanna jump into anything. Even if it’s casual, you know? At least not until I figure things out a bit more and get settled.”

It’s only half of the truth. There was something deeper holding you back. You could feel it now, creeping up behind you, always looming since December.

But you just met JJ. He didn’t owe you anything the same way you didn’t owe him. And trauma dumping isn’t the most certifiable way to make friends. 

“Nah, I get it,” JJ hums, nodding. “Sides, if you’re gonna be one of us, we have rules.”

“I’m sorry, you have rules?” you snigger, looking to him. 

JJ laughs. “Alright, alright, I know it sounds intense but hear me out! They’re to keep the peace and stuff. Keep us together.”

“That’s sweet. I, too, often trap people into friendships with rules,” you sardonically return. JJ nudges your leg away in joking disapproval. You laugh. “Go on, then. What are these rules? Should I get a notebook or…?”

“Alright, rule number one: no pogue on pogue macking.”

“Macking?”

“Kissing. Hooking up. That sorta thing,” he explains. 

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Guessing that came about after your collective balls dropped and you realised Kiara’s hot?”

JJ doesn’t speak but his silence is answer enough. You laugh. A particular outburst from Pope catches your joint attention. John B and Kiara fall into hysterics and you smile at their joy. It distracts JJ from further rule-telling. Reaching down into your backpack that’s nestled under your seat, you fish out your camera and settle it on the trio. You snap a few shots. They’ll look perfect with a black and white filter. JJ watches you flick through them. 

“You a photographer or something?”

“Kinda,” you reply. “I do it for fun, mostly.”

“Wanna take one of me?” It seems a rhetorical question.

Chuckling, you lift the camera and snap a shot of a grinning JJ. In one hand he holds up his drink and in the other he makes a surfer symbol. It’s cute. Shows his dimples and crowsfeet by his eyes. It reminds you why you were so infatuated by him at the kegger. The way the camera paints him is like a Monet. Before you can protest, JJ takes the camera from you and turns it. You complain as he snaps a shot: it feels unnatural being on this side of the lens. You snatch it back. 

“Dickhead.”

“What? You look cute! Especially in that shirt - I fucking love that.”

You try to hide your fluster by placing your camera back. JJ gets to his feet. Offering out a hand with a smile, he helps you up. The casual touch somehow feels like you're shaking on something. An agreement, to be simply friends, at least for now. So, passing a smile and naturally retracting your hand from his, you follow him to the others.

“What we talking about?” JJ asks.

“Oh, shit! You guys have got to hear this story!” Kiara struggles out.

They all shuffle to make space for you and JJ. John B wordlessly offers you another can whilst Pope recounts his tale. As you settle into laughter with the others, cracking up at JJ’s teasing of his awkward friend, you find yourself happy with the thought of becoming a Pogue.

read part three here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid

[ianthewife]

The Titania&Ulysses and Gideon parallels are honestly making me so insane. With U- and T- John claims to see them as his children. Then he puppeteers them, drags them around like a favorite toy, plays house with their corpses as dolls, he even names one of them after his childhood dog??? Sir, this is not even near to how one treats children, dear God, you got lost in the necro-sauce—

Then this man lives for ten thousand years and now he has Gideon and he brings her into the world the second time, he constructs her, he renames her and proceeds to play mother-daughter with a new miserable corpse. This man just doesn’t learn, does he. But oh well, this time the corpse is a willing one, isn’t that great! Because Gideon got so tangled up in the desperate desire to be a tool, a weapon, a sword hand, a cavalier. Her “mother” crafted her to be a weapon, a bomb, but didn’t get to use her. Harrow refused to use her and if broke Gideon’s heart. But oh-so-luckily, now she has a father who is willing to use her and her sword, to use her as his sword. Surely this means he loves her. And the worst thing is that I think John truly thinks that is how you love your child.

What can I say, such a wonderful family, they are totally normal and well and definitely aren’t enabling the worst patterns of each other *eye twitching, ripping my hair out, chain smoking*

[peachesofteal]

John Price/female reader The Ocean Anthology

It’s a hollow knock that pulls you from sleep.

The Ranger is standing on the slanted slats of your front porch, Aly in his arms, cradled to his chest. Her too long legs hang over in a heap, face sweet and soft, spun in the silken bliss of sleep.

“John.” His name is a croak, a splinter of confusion on your tongue. It’s four in the morning.

“Sorry to wake you,” he shifts his daughter’s weight, and you shake your head wordlessly, “there’s a problem, up at the forestry camp. Normally Mari would…” his mouth twitches, trailing off, sequencing into a helpless, silent request.

“Of course.” Frigid air spills around his shoulders, curling into your living room, and you press the door firm after him, turning to where he lowers Aly onto the couch, broad palm sweeping over forehead and tucking her in her blanket, plus yours.

“She’ll be no trouble.” He murmurs, shoulders rolled back.

“Sure, yeah. It’s fine.” You whisper, following his lead to the door, standing in his shadow.

“I’ll be back, before it’s time for her to start school. And she can handle herself for breakfast.” Rough hands cradle your elbows, cracked callouses and torn skin snagging on the flimsy cotton of your long sleeve t shirt.

Aly truly is, no trouble. Once she's up, rubs the crystal sleep from her eyes and orients, she hops off your couch and into the kitchen where you're at the table with a hot mug.

"Breakfast?" Hopeful eyes glance at your pantry. "Got stuff to make pancakes in there?" You laugh.

"You want pancakes?" She shifts her weight, bashful.

"Dad doesn't let me have them much."

"Alrighty. Let's make some pancakes then."

You manage a too tall stack of fluffy pancakes before there's a knock at your front door. Aly, like any child, wanted chocolate chips in hers, but she settled for blueberry, and just as she's about to have her first bite, cold wind whips through the house like a lash.

"Hi." Fuck. Is he going to be mad you made his kid pancakes? He evaluates the table, sweeping gaze traveling from Aly back to you, leisurely rolling up from your toes.

You ignore the clench in your stomach.

"Those look good."

"Oh, uh... you want-"

"Blueberry?" At this, Aly's fork freezes, eyes darting from her plate to her father before turning back to breakfast.

"Y-yeah. Didn't have chocolate chips, and plain pancakes are kind of boring." His mouth twitches, sloping to one side with a furrow of his brow, chord of sadness striking his irises. There one second, then gone. A warm breeze of the cusp of summer’s end, something you can’t quite catch. You think he’s going to ignore you, the moment suspended in the void of your kitchen, batter caked bowl and whisk shuffled haphazardly towards the sink, splatters of it on the tile. He hums.

“Good choice.” The flannel is nearly too small for him, clinging to his shoulder, the breadth of his body, thick forearms stretching the buttons where the cuffs are rolled up to the elbows. You're tongue-tied in the passing silence, before he puts you out of your misery. "You've got something," a thumb to the corner of his own mouth, rubbing against something that isn't there, as you stand, lost in a moment of desiderium that slams into you with full force, "here."

He licks his thumb, then he reaches.

He rubs your skin, instead. The corner of your lips. Pasty batter splattered and dried, now gone beneath his circling touch. It's... fatherly, in passing. A short glimpse into the moment would convince you he's being kind, helpful, but the way his venetus gaze lingers on your lips, and rolls up to your eyes... it's more than patriarchal. It's heated, and dark, flashes of secrets and songs you've never heard.

"T-thank you."

"Will you go out today?"

"Oh, uh... yeah I had hoped to."

"In the kayak?" You nod. His lips twitch.

"I'll take you, in the boat." The words he gave you the first time you looked for the Orcas ring in your ears.

"I thought I had to earn it?" A sliver of possession gleams in his eyes.

"You will."

[sgrplumditz]

Simon falls for Johnny’s wife…

render by @ave661

a/n: I’ve been working on this for a hot minute, but ended up having it sit in my drafts for a couple months :(. these images were released and it definitely struck a chord in my delulu mind. hence why i decided to finish it..

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"I've got a bad feeling about this one, Johnny," she said to the Scott with a shaky breath. Their toddler clinging to his mother's leg while keeping a tight grip on his father's finger. His little hand too small to grip the entirety of his hand.

She couldn’t help but notice his worrisome sigh as he looked for the comforting words, "Eh, don't you worry, Darling. I always come back don't I?" he replied enthusiastically as he embraced her figure, his chin resting on the top of her head and his free hand caressing the back of his son’s head. Johnny always knew how to comfort her, but she couldn’t shake her nervousness and doubtful thoughts as he said goodbye to her husband and the father of her only child.

The memory of their final interaction as a family replayed in her head continuously as the rain created soft tapping noises on her black umbrella. The pattering of the water creating an almost hypnotizing effect on the new widow that kept her mind on the only aspect that was left of her late husband -- memories.

The toddler, a three-year-old boy, who like most of the time clung to his mother's body. Except this time he was fully embracing his mother, his little face placed into the crook of her neck as the pair stood together at the outdoor memorial service. She could only stare blankly at the urn that held the remains of the love of her life. Through her observant stare she took note of the simple, yet lovely set up of white roses, numerous awards and medals. All of which surrounded a framed photo of her Johnny — her favorite photo. A candid picture snapped of the blue eyed, dark haired man by his wife — the woman he kept a secret from his work life. Not out of shame, or malicious secrecy — Johnny loved his wife and his child. Love them so much that he couldn’t be bothered ever putting them in any sort of danger.

She could feel numerous pairs of eyes prying into her and her son as she stood amongst the medium sized crowd of individuals. She assumed all of them were teammates, Co-workers, or people simply paying their respects. she knew he was a highly decorated soldier, but he was far more than that. None of them knew about his personal life, and nobody knew about the widow and small boy he had left behind. Nobody but Captain John Price knew about Soap’s little family. In confidence, Soap had asked Price to maintain word of his wife and son under the rug of the sake of their safety. Although they were hidden, he always carried pieces of them with him wherever he went — attached to his dog tags were two small and silver flat pendants that had been engraved with his wife and son’s fingerprint, his wedding band usually accompanying them on the same chain whenever he was deployed.

When Johnny was home he never removed his ring. He would often complain about how difficult and stubborn the piece of jewelry was when it came time to remove it for work. Johnny thought he was as discrete as he could be when it came to protecting the two most important people in his life, but there was a certain masked individual who took notice of the tan line that marked his left ring finger, the sudden dark under eyes and disheveled appearance that started 3 years ago when they would meet early in the morning for briefings, and when he caught sight of a vomit stain decorating the left shoulder of his black t-shirt — he just wasn’t one to pry.

Those same observant eyes were glued to the grieving widow and the blue-eyed toddler.

Her mind was pulled out of thoughts as Price approached her with a warm and tender expression in his eyes. In his hands were the dog tags, along with his keepsakes of his beloveds and in a small box was the wedding band. All of his personal belongings packed neatly into a box. Price knew he didn’t have to say anything to her for her to know that he was paying his respects to Johnny’s wife. Prior to the memorial service she had made it clear to Price that she wanted him to keep his ashes. She found they would get at least some closure from releasing them.

As Price drew her small frame in for a polite hug her son grew restless in her arms. She knew he was too young to understand that his father was gone, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable and upset from the lack of him. "Mama, it's cold" he fussed as he smushed his face farther onto her neck, "and your feet are getting wet. You're gonna catch a cold". She gave Price an apologetic smile as she turned her attention to her son now — Price had taken it as a signal to retreat. He now stood with two other men.

She couldn't help but smile at the innocence and kindness that exuded from her son. She gently patted his back to soothe his discomfort, "How about we get out of here and get some lunch?" she tried to speak in her most joyful tone, but even then it was coated in sorrow. The boy did not catch on to her somber response, and instead eagerly nodded his head as he perked up to look at his mother. That is when she realized how similar their son, Samuel, looked to his father. He mirrored him in nearly every aspect -- the eye shape and color, the dark hair, and even the mannerisms were similar. This could all be a fragment of her imagination -- she thought. Maybe it was part of her grieving process. She missed him so much that she began to look for him and could only find him perfectly in their Sammie. She was so consumed by her thoughts, that she had not realized the single salty tear that slipped out of her eye and down her cheek. Samuel hated to see his mother cry, he quickly brought his tiny hands up to her cheek and wiped it away with a slightly heavy palm. Usually, he would verbally comfort her — as best as a toddler could do, but all he did was lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead, "This always makes you feel better when Daddy does it". Does -- in present tense.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She could not tolerate being at the memorial service for much longer, and neither could Samuel. She had buckled him into his car seat and handed him a strawberry and banana squeezable fruit pack and crackers to ease his rumbling tummy in the meantime.

However, as she closed the car door and turned her back to face the crowd of people one last time she was instead met with a tall, burly build of a man. His face was hidden by a balaclava, leaving only his eyes on display. But the rest of his face was not necessary to note that he was also grieving. She noticed him within the crowd of the memorial service as well -- she assumed that was one of Johnny's friends, but did not bother to congregate with anyone since Johnny kept his personal life completely separate from his work life. And if she was being honest with herself, she did not have the emotional stamina to socialize with people that spent months out of the year with her late husband.

"Sorry. Can I help you with something?" she asked the brute man. She stared up at him with her eyes slightly shut to avoid water from getting into them.

"He’s Johnny’s" was his only reply. For a moment she only blinked and stared at him and noted the heavy English accent. The mention of her late husband’s name stung as she now was fighting back tears. Yes, he is Johnny's son. His pride and joy -- was what she wanted to say, but she could barely muster up the strength to nod her head.

She could tell that the individual's lips tightened into a line by the way the fabric of his mask slightly stretched. "My name is Simon. I was a friend of Johnny's..." he attempted to continue speaking, but all he did was nervously rub the back of his neck. "Johnny meant a lot to me, a real friend of mine..." he trailed off again.

She knew he was grieving, but it was a different type of pain. She sensed guilt within his sadness, but she knew better than to ask about any specifics. Her kind nature and maternal habits took over as she saw Simon struggling to find his words. For whatever reason this man decided to make himself emotionally uncomfortable to introduce himself, she figured there would be no harm in easing his mind.

She knew who Simon was since Johnny would bring up his friend "Ghost" every now and then "I know who you are" she smiled warmly trying to be the emotional rock between the two, "How about you join us for some lunch. I think Sammie would love to talk to and get to know his Uncle Ghost" she spoke eagerly in an attempt to lighten the mood -- something that was usually Johnny's role.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The three of them sat in a booth within a homely diner. The rain had completely let down at this point, the large drops of water hitting the roof of the diner with loud individual pats. Her hands were wrapped around a warm mug of coffee as she stared out the window watching blades of grass be temporarily smooshed by the inclement weather. The waitress had refilled her mug causing her gaze to turn towards her, her eyes softened and she gave the waitress a subtle nod to thank her. It was then that she realized that her son was wearing the ghost mask that was once on Simon. There was a glimmer of joy in Sam's eyes as he stood on the booth and gently hopped toward his mother to show her the "cool mask".

"I look so cool!" he exclaimed which only caused a chuckle to leave both her and Simon's mouths as the toddler's face was completely exposed through the eye hole on the mask -- his features obviously too small to fill the mask in the same manner. Upon hearing the slight laugh she turned to look at Simon, who she was surprised to see with dirty blonde hair. He was overall a handsome man, something that anyone would notice at first glance, but his eyes always conveyed a lot of emotion. Right now it was amusement tinged with pain as he stared at Sam. She knew he also noticed how strongly he resembles Johnny, and a part of her found comfort in knowing that she was not grieving alone. The way he looked at Sammie made her feel warm. She sensed that Simon knew Johnny deeper than most of the people at the memorial service — knowing that she found herself smiling at the thought of her being able to cherish Johnny’s memories with someone else.

The waitress had arrived with everyone's meals. Sam did not hesitate to dig into his plate. The toddler abruptly grabbed the bottle of syrup and drenched his pancakes in it. His careless behavior causing some of it to spill onto to the table, "Use your table manners please" she spoke sternly, but softly to the boy as she slipped him a napkin and a set of covered utensils.

"He looks just like him" he spoke in a gentle and respectful tone. His eyes rested on Sam -- who was now too focused on using his utensils properly to pay attention to the conversation happening in front of him.

Her hand wiped a strand of dark stray hair away from his forehead before she turned her attention toward Simon, who was now looking at her, "Yeah. Carried him for 9 months and he's got the nerve to look just like his father" she shrugged with a pained smile — her attempt to lighten the mood once again failing, "but I wouldn't have it any other way".

Simon took note of the sorrow hidden within the smile as his own face mirrored it out of empathy.

A few minutes had gone by and Samuel was still working on his meal, Simon had quickly eaten his, and she played with her food, tossing it around all over her plate in a desperate attempt to distract herself. How embarrassing would it be to break down at a family diner. "You should eat your lunch" he spoke. The deep voice dragging her out of her spiraling thoughts.

She glanced down to look at his empty plate and her contrastingly full one. Casually shrugging off his suggestion she set her fork down and let out a soft sigh, "I'll just take it to go. I don't really have an appetite at the moment" she spoke in a casual tone — too causal of a tone. She was normally a social person, the type to be able to engage in conversation with any type of person for hours. Her personality was magnetizing in the sense that she was an incredibly open minded person, which only made her a vessel for hundreds on conversations, all of different topics and tones — a quality that Johnny loved about her. She was one of the few that would keep up with his mindless thoughts and nonsense ideas. That is where she was at the moment. In her mind she was thinking about the woman she was before she got the gut wrenching knock at her door. The knock where she was told by Laswell and Price that her husband was gone. “Killed in Action” were the words they used. “He died saving the world” was something Price added.

Sure he had died saving the world, but her and her son’s was destroyed. She was never a selfish person, but in that moment she wished the world would burn if it meant he was in her arms instead of merely a memory. She hadn’t noticed until recently that tears were flooding her cheeks and spilling onto her meal. Simon had been observing her for a moment as she watched her fall into deep thought, but once he saw her tear stained face he acted quickly.

He swiftly took his wallet out of his pocket and placed a $50 bill on the table to cover their meals and a decent tip, “Come on” he spoke in a demanding voice, his tone remaining soft enough for her and Sam to remain calm. Sam was oblivious to his mother’s current state as he had now distracted himself with the crayons and the kids menu.

She looked at Simon as she attempted to regain her composure. It was long gone, she was an emotional mess at the diner — exactly what she was trying to avoid. “It’s alright.” he coo’d as he took Sam into his arm. With his free hand he guided her out of the booth and to the exit.

He took the initiative to get the mother and son home as soon as possible. The three of them approached her car, “Get in and take a few deep breaths, yeah?” he instructed while simultaneously holding the door open for her. Sam had been buckled into his car seat, which Simon struggled to figure out, but the toddler being incredibly intuitive had seen his mother and father do it hundreds of times and was able to talk Simon through it.

If that had happened under different circumstances she would have been able to congratulate Sam and let him know how proud she is of him, but she was far from being in that state of self awareness and state of mind.

She was a wreck in the passengers seat of her own car. She was heartbroken in the passengers seat of her own car. The severity of it all finally setting in making it nearly impossible for her to get ahold of herself.

Is she just exhausted from the days leading up to the funeral? A weeks worth of concealed emotions finally spilling out in front of her. She is definitely overwhelmed, but this time she subconsciously feels safe and secure enough to let go of her broken front.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Months had gone by since her meltdown in front of Simon, and he never once brought it up. He was well aware it wasn’t something she was proud of, nor did she want to talk about her grief. Simon had been coming around her and Samuel a couple times a week just to check in on the pair. He felt it was his responsibility to keep them safe now — the least he could do for his recently deceased friend. Everyday he spent with the two of them he realized why Soap had kept them a secret. They were truly too special to put into any risk; especially her. She was a walking breath of fresh air, not something anyone encounters often in their lifetime, especially not in their line of work and the lifestyle it supplies. Now it all made sense. Johnny was always the most eager to return home when they’d be out in the field, said he had “something special” waiting for him, but everyone would shrug it off.

He grew to understand Soap’s decision to keep his family hidden from the world he worked in.

Even though Simon was consumed in his own thoughts he was still able to be completely alert as the mother and son played on the playground.

Her laugh. It stripped him away from his spiraling memories and muses. His gaze snapped to her body on the floor covered in wood chips, she had clearly tripped and stumbled while playing with Samuel. She was laughing at her clumsiness, laughing at how attentive Samuel was to his mother as soon as she hit the cushioned floor, “Sammie, I’m okay” she soothed him as he clung to her — small and gentle laughs leaving her full lips as she reacted to the entire scenario.

That was the first time Simon had heard her laugh.The sound of her sweet tone intoxicating to him. He couldn’t get enough, is what he mentally told himself as he walked over to her to help get back on her feet. Her soft and polished hand nestled and firmly gripped onto his rough and calloused one as he pulled her off the ground.

Guilt lingered in his being upon realizing how much he liked being around her, but he needed to be there for them. The conflict was clear within him, and something he figures he’ll eventually learn to accept and move forward with. He knew he would have to set aside his audacious feelings to respect her and more importantly to respect Johnny. He would be there to protect them as much as she allowed him. He wasn’t planning on getting emotionally attached to the the pair, or her alone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later that same evening, Simon had made the decision to pay her and Sammie a visit. He stepped out of his car with a bag of Chinese takeout in his hand. Chinese food had become the only thing she would willingly eat ever since Johnny passed. A swift hand smoothing his plain black t-shirt before he began walking toward her front door, but as soon as his hand left his clothing he realized what he was doing. Bringing her favorite food to her and her son with no real reason to be seeing her, checking his appearance — something uncommon for the typically aloof man. A lingering hint of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach as he treaded towards the front door of her house. No, Simon was only supposed to be there for the mother and son duo as an aide during this severe loss. He felt that’s what he owed to Johnny since he felt partially responsible for his death. A cocktail of traumatic thoughts and memories invaded his mind . The grip on the take-out bag grew stronger, the same strength being felt in his chest as his heart pounded in its cavity

Upon reaching the front door he heard what sounded like a glass had broken — as if it had fallen off of a surface, which isn’t a big deal, she had a bad habit off leaving glasses on the edge of countertops and tables, but the yelp that followed only made Simon react in the most instinctive manner. He rushed inside the house and into the kitchen where she was found with a dish towel wrapped around her hand and a grimace on her face. Her nose scrunched in reaction to the pain.

Simon raised an eyebrow at her as he approached her with swift and long strides. His demeanor was urgent, alarmed and slightly panicked as his body was still in a reactive state from his memories, but how could she know that? She stared at him with the same expression, but she had more reason to. His breathing wasn’t heavy but it was slightly sporadic. At the same time, it was still controlled, his body was tense, but most significantly, his eyes looked panicked and unsettled. “I didn’t know you’d be visiting tonight. You should have let me know,” she spoke casually as she continued holding pressure on her fresh wound, “Or else I wouldn’t have-“ her words stopped flowing when Simon grabbed her hand and began to examine the brand-new cut. She watched his concerned expression lighten when he confirmed that the abrasion was small enough to heal on its own, “- let my mom take him for the weekend.” She finally completed her sentence when his large brown eyes met hers.

She knew exactly what was happening to him. She recognized the wide, alert eyes, uneven breathing, and tense mannerisms. This was a common occurrence that she witnessed Johnny experience. Her husband was gone, but there were constant reminders of him everywhere -- and one thing she hated seeing was Johnny struggling with his PTSD. Just like Johnny, she couldn't tolerate seeing Simon in the same condition.

Using her unharmed hand, she grabbed Simon's calloused one. Her movements were gentle and fluid as she guided their hands to the left side of her chest. With his palm now resting on her chest she looked into his eyes before speaking in a nurturing tone. "Slow and steady. Count it for me" she said as she placed her own hand over his chest. It was then that she noticed how hard and fast his heart pounded. "I’ll count yours until we match pace. One, two, three..."

Eventually, Simon counted with her, his heart rate slowing gradually as his mind remained distracted from the trauma and focused on her. On her beating heart, on her nurturing voice, on her full pink lips, on her long dark eyelashes, on her soft delicate hands. Her. His mind consumed by images of her, his newfound serenity.

Simon cannot help but feel guilty, but his pleasure and serene state strongly blinds him from this feelings. This is exactly what he didn’t want, but he can’t help but relish in it.

[vimbry]

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

[touratoura]

TV Show idea: A Christian woman named Juliet moves into a new neighborhood, hoping to find a husband and have a child. After moving into her new home, she goes to meet her next-door neighbors - and is horrified to find out it’s a loud, party-girl, dirty mouthed black lesbian named Maggie Dalene and her smart, CEO girlfriend Mary (played by Laverne Cox). Juliet does everything she can to try and turn them to Christ. She does it both forward and subtle. While she does this, she also meets and falls in love with a man named Paul, and starts visiting the local orphanage to bring the kids there to faith.

The main plot points of the first season:

Juliet’s (failed) attempts to convert Mary and Maggie. They keep running into each other. Maggie goes the opposite way and tries to get Juliet to relax a little. Juliet is especially concerned when Christmas comes around and they bring out the Menorah.

Juliet meets three triplets at the orphanage named Jesus, Emmy, and Susej. Susej is the only girl. Juliet tries to get the three Jewish kids to convert, but they refuse. She also tries to get Emmy to go by his full name, Emmanuel - but he finds it stupid.

Lucifer and Abbadon (Lucy and Abby) are a gay gender-unconforming couple who have extremely random jobs everywhere. They seem to be working everywhere. Cashiers, fake-Gucci boot sellers, librarians, janitors, shelf restockers, anything. They’re there. No one else mentions it. It drives Juliet insane. She finds the idea of them being feminine men disturbing, but she can’t call them anything but Lucy and Abby as she refuses to say the Devil’s name. She also finds Abby being black disturbing.

It’s often hinted at that Susej is the Antichrist. And by hinted at I mean she’s always staring piercingly into empty space, whispering threateningly, and is always there when things go wrong. Also her eyes occasionally go black and she starts floating and speaking ancient curses. Juliet is terrified. No one else notices.

Jesus is friends with a group of 12 boys from the orphanage, named Peter, James, John, Andrew, Phillip, Judas I, Matthew, Thomas, James A, Bart, Judas T, and Simon. Jesus goes by Jeezy-boi. The others go by Peezy, Jazzy, Jozzy, Azzy, Pheezy, Jewzy, Meezy, Teezy, Jameezy, Beezy, Yeezy, and Seezy. They’re all played by 12-year-olds, except Yeezy, who’s played by a Kanye West-lookalike. It’s never remarked upon. He talks like Kanye.

Juliet tries to get Mary to turn to God. She will often compare her to her “namesake”, Mary of Jesus fame, to show her the “right side”. Mary takes none of it and points out that Mary and Jesus were Jewish. Mary is very no-nonsense when it comes to these things. Mary is heavily implied to actually BE Mother Mary as she knows things the church doesn’t.

Paul keeps accidentally calling Juliet Jennifer. She doesn’t notice. He’s often drunk and rude to waiters and retail workers. Juliet is too, mind you. He hides his phone and yells a lot. He complains about Juliet’s decision to “wait until marriage”, but doesn’t mind her being anti birth control.

At the end of season 1, Juliet gets married to Paul. He barely gets the vows right at the wedding. Mary and Maggie go out for an unknown trip. There’s a time skip of a few months. Maggie and Mary are celebrating outside of their house, because Maggie just won a Noble Prize in Chemistry. Maggie is yelling “I won! I won!” Juliet smiles and says, “No. I won.” She’s holding a baby in her arms. Maggie paused for a moment and responds “No baby, I won. Paul’s gonna leave yo ass in 3 seconds. You gon have to raise that baby alone. And who says we ain’t got kids?”

Jesus skates by on a skateboard with a cowboy hat. He tips his hat to them as he passed. Emmy is running behind him in a pink skirt. Juliet places her baby down momentarily to talk with them, as Susej comes up and starts whispering to the baby. It nods, and she smiles, before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke. She reappears behind Mary. End of Season 1.

This isn’t a prompt but I would gladly accept criticism and more ideas. And characters. I’m open.

[3amfanfiction]

It's Just Dinner pt 3

John needs another date and Kyle is very convincing. MDNI cw: gazlighting, manipulation, forced prostitution 2.8k First || Previous

Thankfully the next few weeks pass quietly. There's no surprise dates, no uncomfortable conversations. Just you and Kyle, like it used to be.

You're tentatively relaxing into the rhythm when the next bombshell goes off.

Kyle's running around, getting ready to head to base early in the morning, talking to you over his shoulder when you hear, "Price has an opera he needs to see with one of the brass this weekend and he needs a date. I told him you were free," finishing with his shoes he grabs a jacket, coming over to give you a dirty kiss complete with a healthy grasp of your ass. "We'll go shopping when I get back," —assured, nonchalant, just another day.

No. No! You're not doing this again!

"Kyle! You can't just volunteer me—"

"Bye, babe!" echos through the entryway as the door slams shut.

Conversation over.

///

You fumed for hours. How dare he? How DARE he? Did he think you were a child he could make decisions for? Absolutely not.

You were ready for him now.

You'd spent all day preparing and when Kyle got home tonight you were going to sit him down and you were going to be firm. You weren't going to let him talk over you, you were going to stand your ground tell him you wouldn't be going on any more dinner dates with John Price.

Simple.

But as with any battle plan, it only lasted through the first encounter.

"Why are you acting like this?" Kyle frowned, not understanding. You crossed your arms defensively where you were standing in the bedroom, having followed him in when he got home. Why did you feel defensive?

You watched him pause, holding his t shirt in one hand as he looked over to you, head tilted in confusion. "You said you'd go, I already told him you agreed." He stepped towards you, dropping his shirt back in the drawer before stopping a short distance away, "you can't back out now babe, he's already booked the reservations."

Stop. Take a breath. You're not going to lose your temper.

"I never said I'd go, Kyle."

"Yes you did!" he insisted, eyes wide in disbelief, rolling right over your moment of breathing, "I was standing next to the kitchen table this morning—putting on my shoes—and you said yes."

He took a small step, bridging the distance between the two of you.

"Are you feeling okay, love?" his concerned voice made annoyed pinpricks creep up your spine. "You've been awful stressed lately. Is something going on at work? Anything you want to talk about?"

For one moment you imagined dumping it all on his shoulders, hysterically yelling, I'm pretty sure your boss tried to kiss me! to see what he would do with the information.

Kyle lifted his hands to cup your face, rubbing your noses together gently before you could do anything hasty. "We're partners . . . you know I've always got you, right?"

And just like that, the annoyance dissipated.

"I know, Kyle. That isn't what this is about," you reassured, leaning into his warm calloused palms, taking strength from his presence. "I just don't want to go to an opera this weekend."

You never brought up the half-kiss John had pressed to the corner of your mouth. After your bathroom pep talk you had met back up with him and he behaved himself for the rest of the night—there was no reason to worry Kyle about it.

But it still festered in the back of your mind.

His brow furrowed while he looked disappointingly at you, "Love, it would look really bad if I had to go back to my superior officer and say, 'sorry sir, she changed her mind, we can't help you.' It puts me in a bad spot when he's counting on us, on you, for the night."

His expression turned sad, "I wish you wouldn't have agreed if you had reservations about this."

Did you agree? He seems so certain, remembers it so clearly, maybe you did indicate acceptance somehow this morning, unwittingly.

"No—no I didn't agree, or at least, that's not what I meant," you capitulate, giving ground, shoulders rounding ever so slightly.

You have been stressed lately.

Maybe he's right.

He pulled away to frown down at you, "why are you so against going to dinner this time? Last time you were excited to go."

"I wasn't excited Kyle," you stammered, "I told you I wasn't sure about all this."

"No babe, you told me you were nervous," he pauses to smile at you as if you were in on a secret together, "after all Price is a handsome man and anyone would be nervous to have his full attention on them," you firmly don't think about the swoop in your stomach when he had cupped the back of your neck, the static shock that skated up your spine when his lips brushed yours, ever so slightly.

"—but then you had a great time." you focus back on what Kyle is saying, pulling your wandering mind under control, "I don't understand why you're being so skittish about this now."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before shuffling the both of you over to the bed. Sitting, he moved you into his lap, chest to chest so he could look into your eyes.

"Are you sure no one said or did anything?" His voice dripped with sincerity, looking for something to fix, some way to help, "You know you're my best girl, right? I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Fuck. How do you keep messing this up? Now you're sitting here crying as Kyle promises to protect you. Should you just tell him? Get it over with, off your chest. Would that unlock the chain that was dragging you down? You wanted it to go back to how it was before.

No. You weren't a child and you didn't need to be babied. Nothing truly happened so there was nothing to tell Kyle.

But without telling him, you didn't have a valid reason for not going this time.

So you sat there in silence, unable to give ground any further. After a few moments of this, Kyle continued, tone lowered —assured, "Who's always looking out for you? Making sure that you're safe and you're happy, hmm?" he used his thumb to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

"You," you assure quickly. This at least came easier, "but Kyle, this is—"

"Pet," stern, direct, "you're getting all twisted up in this when you don't need to be. You trust me right? You know I'm always doing whats best for us?" he holds your gaze, forehead pressed against yours, watching every flick of your eyes. "I love you more than I ever thought possible, but if you don't trust me . . . that's a hard thing to come back from, you know?"

"I do! I do trust you Kyle, I'm sorry. I don't know why I feel this way," rushed, pleading.

"I told you, even though you're my best girl, your head still gets in the way. We need to turn that pretty brain off, don't we?" He kisses you sweetly, as if you're everything he could ever want. "I've got us, baby. I wouldn't steer wrong."

Breathe.

"Okay," you give in after one more moment of resistance, tired of the pushing and pulling, the cyclical conversations, "okay, I'll go. But this is the last time, do you hear me Kyle Garrick?" You pulled back to show him your no nonsense face, "I'm not doing this again."

Kyle laughs as if you'd stomped your foot in assertion, something too cute to ever be taken seriously, "I hear you, babe. Thank you for coming around to see my side of things," he squeezes you to his chest, your face tucked into the warmth of his neck, "you're going to have a great time, you'll see."

He leans away to take you in, "How are you so wonderful? I feel like I must've saved an orphanage from a fire or something to have gotten you in my life."

Smiling at you as if he could see the universe in your eyes, "it's you and me, right sweetheart?" he questions, a child looking for benediction.

"You and me," you assure, disquiet bubbling softly in the back of your mind.

///

You saw John before he saw you.

He was standing in the foyer, looking at his phone, dressed to the nines.

His snug black suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, biceps bulging at the seams. His button down shirt tucked into his pants emphasized his thick waist, the muscles of his core covered by a healthy layer of fat.

His thick gold rings caught the light from above as he swiped through his phone—

Was that your living room on his screen?

The thought was derailed almost as soon as it formed due to John noticing you. He turned with a beaming smile as he locked his phone and slid it into a pocket. Holding his arms open he ushered you into a hug.

The smell of his cologne was earthy, loamy—it curled up in your nose and sunk its tendrils into your brain. How did he always smell so good?

Tensing slightly as his arms closed around you, he did no more than press a firm kiss high on your cheekbone. "You are a vision, my dear," John said in awe, pulling back slightly to take you in from head to toe. "Every time I see you, you end up more stunning. How is that possible?"

You laugh, charmed despite yourself. It's hard to keep up walls when John Price is looking at you like that, "You're too sweet, John," you demure, intending to have a good time tonight, "shall we find our seats?"

///

Several hours later, when the night was all but over while waiting for your car, you don't notice at first that John has taken a step closer. You're too distracted by the chill breeze that has sprung up, attempting to keep your skirt where it belongs.

You realize how close he had gotten when his hand comes up to brush against the skin of your jaw, fingers trailing softly as if dragging against spun gold.

Something precious. Something treasured.

You inhale shakily, unsure of where this was leading but wanting to stop. To take a step back onto stable ground.

"John—" is as far as he lets you get before his mouth covers yours, his other hand coming up to cradle your face in his palms while he devoured your mouth.

Because there was nothing timid or hesitant about this kiss. He claimed with it. His tongue pressing into your mouth at the first sign of weakness—the smallest gasp you couldn't control.

His fingers tightened against the side of your head as he groaned, angled down from above, making sure he was all you could see, all you could hear.

After what felt like years he pulled away, panting like he'd just ran a race, "Fuck me, sweetheart, but you taste even better than I'd hoped."

You stand there, eyes wide as you hold onto his wrists, one hand covering the smooth face of his watch. "You—you kissed me," you murmured, only just loud enough to be heard, "you can't kiss me, John."

He smiled as if you said something cute before pulling you back in. His lips had just brushed yours when you wrenched your head back, desperate to put space between the two of you.

"No, John," shaky but as determined as you could make it. You watch as something rises from the depths behind his eyes. A leviathan observing you, deciding where to bite first, where to grab as he pulls you into his depths, his maw closing around you . . .

Only for it to sink back below the surface, John's blue eyes clearing once more.

"Of course, of course, you're right doll, we shouldn't be doing that here." He continues talking over your spluttered here? as if you never said anything.

"There's your car anyways," the brakes squeak ever so lightly behind you, the thrum of the engine filling the night air, "you be good, sweetheart." A smile as John steps back, holding your door open for you. You climb in quickly, not wanting to spend any longer in his presence than needed.

John looms over the open doorway, forearms braced against the roof, "until next time." He winks at you before shutting the door, a soft double tap on the roof his notice to the driver.

As the car pulled away from the curb your thoughts began to spiral and you started to hyperventilate.

You had to tell Kyle now, you should've told him before but you can't go changing the past.

As soon as you get home you'll sit him down and talk to him. You'll tell him everything.

You ignore your slick thighs and the pressure of your underwear on your throbbing clit.

///

You made the car drive around the block—twice—before you worked up the courage to go inside.

Time to face the music.

"He kissed me, Kyle," you say, bracing for the explosion. You were still reeling from the evening, light tremors shaking your limbs, making your knees feel like they were knocking together.

You know you have to tell him everything, you can't keep something like this quiet. You have to lay it all out and hope he doesn't lose his mind.

Kyle froze. You watch him swallow, noticing his pupils expanding to eclipse the brown of his eyes. You hoped it wasn't in rage.

He quickly gathered himself as youlet out a broken sob and launched yourself at him, tears already streaming down your face.

You cried into his chest, latched onto him in search of strength. He pressed soft shh shh's against the top of your head, cradling you close to him, trying to coax you to breathe.

Eventually you were able to draw in a semi-steady breath without it immediately devolving into a sob and found yourself apologizing to Kyle, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why he kissed me—" breaking off into another wet hiccup.

"None of that now, you're making it a bigger deal than it needs to be," Kyle promised sternly, squeezing you tightly to him, "I know it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong." He soothes you when that causes another round of sobbing to begin.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," he announces quietly, with a somber air, once the tears began to peter off. "It might cause some . . . friction on the task force but if it's made you this upset then I'll handle it."

Why? Why does John have to be Kyle's boss?

It made everything so complicated.

If it were anyone else, you'd be able to trust Kyle to set them straight, no concerns about consequences. But with John . . . he had control over Kyle's life. Is a kiss worth it? Is anything worth risking Kyle's life?

No.

You'd decided before that you wouldn't risk bad blood between them. You held onto that decision even now, even as things have gotten heavier, more complicated.

You bury deeper into Kyle's chest, arms wrapped as tightly as possible around him, "No, I don't want to cause trouble for you at work."

"Doll, it's no-"

"No, you were right, I'm making it a bigger deal than needed. I was just worried, that's all."

He hunched down to rest his chin on top of your head, "worried about what?" he presses.

"Just that . . . that you're saying it's okay when it's really not. I don't want you to be upset with me." Your eyes started to well up again but you blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from falling down your cheeks.

He slips an arm free to tilt your chin up, angling your face towards his, eyes locked so you have no way of hiding from him and what he's about to say.

"I'm not upset with you and you did absolutely nothing wrong," holding your gaze, chin firmly grasped. "Do you think I care about the captain kissing you?" —amused, placating almost— "I care because you care, love," he looked down to your lips, pursed slightly from the pressure of his grip.

"Here," quiet, sensual, "I'll show you."

When he pulled you into the kiss it was warm coffee on a cold morning, it was waking up to realize you have an hour left on your alarm, it was the house lights being on when you get home at night.

It was comfort.

You chase after him slightly when he pulls away, wanting to continue. He smiled and gives you another peck. "You taste," he murmurs, lips brushing yours with every word, "utterly delicious."

You pant softly, waiting for him to press into you again. He smiles and gives another soft kiss, "chapstick and cigar smoke taste perfect from your lips."

Next

Story Repository || Main Repository

[firsttimewriter92]

No hero, just me

Captain John Price x (f!)reader

Summary: You got abducted and John, along with his team is sent to rescue you. When the get-away vehicle is sabotaged, you have to walk the rest of the way to safety. John seems unusually worried and caring towards you. Are you actually just a military higher ups daughter or something more to him?

Warnings: Abduction, canon typical violence, injuries, pining, longing, slow burn, angst, kissing, parental issues(!)

A/N: Hi everyone. This idea has been brewing for a while and upon popular demand I created the story around the lovely Captain. Please note that I not only discuss your relationship with Price but also with your family. So for those who have parental issues, please read with caution. Otherwise please enjoy :)

Words: 11.976 (Yeah, that might have escalated a little)

It was cold. So fucking cold. Your aching back was leaned against an icy brick wall, your knees pulled up to your chest. With shallow breaths you tried to stay as warm as possible but it seemed like with every day that passed, your hope of rescue dwindled. At least that´s what you were sure off. You scoffed at your abductors stupidity. Had they not done their research?

Lieutenant General August _____ was everything but a devoted father. Maybe he once was when you were a child but as soon as you became older it became clear as day to you that his priorities had shifted. It was devastating to watch your brother completely lose himself in trying to impress his father. With flying success though. He was on his way on becoming a Colonel and your father paraded him around at functions like he was his most priced possession. But Alexander himself…he was a mere shadow of a person with character, edges or a mind of his own. It infuriated you. Your mother was the same. Only worse. She clung to the respect, grace and riches your fathers position came with, with such force, that every smile of hers since you were ten years old had only been a forced grimace. The only genuine thing about her? Every proud look she gave her son, every devoted gaze she gave to her husband…and every ounce of disappointment and caution she gave you.

It wasn´t like you rebelled against your family. You weren´t involved in any sex scandals, drug problems or any other affairs. Quite the opposite. You tried your hardest to stay away from those things. But that also meant staying away from your families affairs. You didn’t want anything to do with anything. You hated the fancy dinners and balls. You hated the pretentious smiles, conversation and frankly boring as fuck people your parents surrounded themselves with. And how much they played into their cards to hold up the good family reputation. So it was no wonder that your parents became more and more irritated with you when they saw your blatant disinterest in the military, politics or any of it. How you showed up at parties and dinners, not talking much, not engaging and just waiting for the time to pass you by. It wasn’t what they were used to from your brother.

Needless to say your relationship with your parents didn’t exactly improve from then on. You´d moved out as soon as your mother didn’t throw a fit anymore and within a week, you found a flat way outside London in a quiet village. You were thankful to the great education you´d received however. It allowed you to work from home and you only had to come into the office about twice a month. You loved it. Alexander had helped you move and when it was just the two of you, you could see the very sharp and quite witty brother you had shine through. He and you have had several conversations about your respective situations and there was a mutual acceptance that the other sibling just wanted to have everything or nothing to do with it.

So why not Alec? Why wasn’t Alec sitting here, wondering what had gone wrong? Well, that was actually an easy question to answer. Because he was overseas. You groaned and hugged your knees closer. Of course your parents would receive a ransom demand for you. But how quickly would they react? It had been days. Days and you were sure that you weren´t even in the UK anymore. The ride in the van had been hours long. And the helicopter flight had been even longer.

You heard the shackles outside the door rattle once again and the panic crept into your veins as it had been each time it happened. The door opened but you couldn’t lift your head. A tray was placed in front of you and a deep chuckle reached your ears. It was cold and condescending. “Really” the voice snarled with a thick accent you couldn´t place. “I would´ve guessed your father to have reacted by now. What a shame.” The man stood up again and before closing the door again said with a much more sinister voice, “If he don’t react soon, holding you will not have much benefit, will it?”

You knew what he was trying to say with that. And even though you were somewhat estranged from your family, you´d never guessed they´d let you die like this. It hurt. It hurt fucking bad. It shouldn´t have been a problem to meet their demands with the social status and power your father held. What in the world were they asking for, for your father to wait so long to react?

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short by a loud bang and then….shots. Shots? What the hell was going on?! You were on your feet as quickly as you could and winced from the pain your stiff legs and numb feet were in. You hears voices shout. They were coming closer. In a panic you remembered something your father had thought you. As quickly as you could you wobbled over to the door and stood in a way that would conceal you for a split second once the door was opened. A split second that could give you an advantage. You readied yourself, pounding onto your thighs with your fists to warm up your muscles and praying they wouldn’t give up on you.

A moment later it was quiet behind the door and you almost thought whoever was in front of it had left. Then, with a bang that nearly toppled you over it swung open and you pounced. Your fists made contact with a solid body and only your momentum made the man stumble a little to the side before another one grabbed your shoulders. Yelling from the top of your lungs you fought as if your life depended on it until you heard it. “Calm down, Ms.___. We´re here for you! Your father sent us. Calm down!” You halted your movements and looked around. A massive man stood in the doorway, almost cutting off all light from the corridor. Another one stood to the side and it seemed like he was the one you pounced on first. Both men were clad in heavy armour and facemasks. The one holding your arms however was only slightly taller than you. Same facemask and armour though.

You were panting and looking around wildly until the man spoke again. “Are you all right, Ms.___? Can you walk?” His voice was stern, deep and only slightly hurried. You looked at him again as a little bit of relief washed over you. You nodded slightly before you spoke. “I think so” you rasped. The man lowered your arms and gave you a once over. Seeing your whole body shiver violently he sucked on his teeth and bellowed “Soap, Ghost, make sure the path´s clear. She´s not well on her feet.” With that he quickly but surprisingly gently wound an arm around your waist and guided one of yours over his shoulder, supporting you as you began to move. He might as well have been carrying you. The way all three of them moved was nothing short of deadly precision. It seemed though they had successfully killed everyone that was inside the run down building. The scene you where stumbling through looked like a badly orchestrated film set.

Several times you´d stopped behind the men named Ghost and Soap while they checked if the way was clear. When the man next to you dragged you outside it was pitch black. You couldn’t see for a second but trusted the man who was guiding you. It felt like an eternity that you stumbled, ran and slit through the night. Only your own panting and an occasional, softly grumbled warning from the man beside you. “To your left, Ms.___. Careful” “There´s a small hill up ahead” “Hold onto me” “Don´t let go, you´re doing great”

The moment you felt like your feet couldn’t go no further you heard Ghost and Soap opening car doors in front of you. Finally, with the prospect of sitting in a safe vehicle with people that were there to rescue you, you collapsed onto the bench in the back and began hysterically crying. Sobbing, you curled up onto the seat, yet again realising that your limbs were cold as ice and aching. As the vehicle began to move you felt the soldier that had been jumping into the back with you move. A moment later a heavy warm blanket was thrown over your shoulders. Grabbing onto it like a life line you scrambled to throw it around your feet.

“Hold on” the man said gruffly and took your hands in his. “Shit” he grumbled and kneeled down in front of you. Almost hectic he pulled the blanket over you more tightly before removing your shoes. You were whimpering in protest but he just looked up at you. Pleadingly. You stopped struggling immediately. Why was he looking at you like that? Your vision blurred as you tried to make out his features. He´d removed the facemask.

A full beard, moustache and mutton chops, a full lower lip, piercing blue eyes. Blue, so blue. His hands were still moving until your feet were out of your shoes and soaked socks. Compared to your feet, his hands were scolding hot as he began rubbing your feet with them, all the while not breaking eye contact. “We need to warm them up” he whispered. You simply nodded and another tear rolled down your cheek. “I know” he said and held your feet. “I know. It´s over,___. It´s over.”

It took you a moment to realise that he´d just used your first name. You nodded your head. “Over” you whispered and began silently crying again. For another few minutes, the soldier constantly rubbed your feet as fatigue clouded your mind. You felt your body fall forward. Another moment later the soldier caught your falling and guided it onto the seat again. He gently pushed a little further so you lay down on the seats. With the last remains of your strength you felt him wrapping you up in the blanket, a little feeling returning to your feet.

“What´s your name?” You thought he hadn´t heard you because it was a mere whisper that left your lips. Then you saw those eyes again, right in front of your face as a gentle warm hand removed a strand of hair from your forehead. “John Price” he said in a calm tone. “My name is Captain John Price.”

Dull voices reached your ears and slowly you came to. “…do you mean, dead?” “It´s dead, what can I tell you?” “Bastards! They sabotaged the gas tank. There´s a hole in it.”

Holding your head you sat up realising that the car had stopped. The captains head moved towards you. Quickly he moved to your side. “I´m afraid we´re broken down. We need to walk the rest of the way to the evac-point.” He looked at you apologetically. “How are your feet?” His hand moved underneath the blanket and gently stroked your feet, checking their temperature. “I´ll be fine” you said, moving your toes. “They´ve warmed up quite well.” The captain nodded. He only seemed half optimistic.

“Here” he handed you something from his duffle bag. “Your shoes are dry now but your socks are a mess. Wear those. They…might me a bit big.” If the situation hadn’t been any different you would have laughed at the way he said it. As you moved your still aching muscles and pulled on the socks and your shoes you looked at him and asked “How long do we have to walk?” His shoulders sacked for a moment and dread filled your veins. He opened the doors in the back, threw out his duffle bag and jumped out. Turning towards you he held out his hand to help you get out of the car. When your hand moved into his, you were again astounded by its warmth. “I´m afraid it´s quite a walk” he said as you jumped and stood in front of him.

Looking up slightly into his face you were able to make out more in the pale light of dawn. His mutton chops accentuated slight chubby cheeks and a freckle dusted nose. Damn. He was handsome. You were pretty sure that his stature was not only this bulky because of the gear he was wearing. His shoulders stood out in relation to his narrow waist and big thighs. You swallowed hard when you realised that his hand still held yours. “We´ll take one day at a time. You´re safe” he repeated with conviction to make you believe.

“Price.” The massive man you´d seen before called out to him. The captains hand let go of yours and a shiver ran down your back. All three men stood in front of you, ready to leave. “It´s a three day hike. We have to cross a border for them to pick us up otherwise there´s going to be a problem. Officially-” John Price looked at you with a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We´re not even here.”

You again nodded and prepared for a long walk. John stepped in front of you for a moment and as to reassure himself that you were ready, tucked the blanket you were still wearing tighter around your shoulders before leaning his head to the side for a moment. Looking up at him you tried to smile reassuringly. He didn’t seem quite convinced but nodded his head once before gesturing you to move in front of him. You followed the other men that waited a bit down the road.

Soon however you made a right and left the deserted road. The sun began to rise and you could see that the man named Ghost lead you towards a mountain range. You gulped. You weren’t nearly as fit as these three men and frankly felt bad for them as they marched on in their armour, holding their weapons and duffle bags. The paths you took gradually became more narrow and more steep. Your feet began to hurt again but not because of the cold this time. You´ve walked quite a way in a tempo that you weren’t used to and a terrain that was less than forgiving.

When you reached some sort of level ground you were panting and sweating. Trying not to make it obvious that you were out of shape compared to your rescuers, you tried to gulp down the pants and discreetly wiped the droplets of sweat from your forehead. To your left and your right, massive walls of stone reached up into the sky, making the path in front of you quite dark although it must have been midday by now. It seemed like Ghost lead you down a huge gash right between the mountain when the path suddenly fell into a steep decline. With an agile elegance that you wouldn’t have guessed coming from a man like him, Ghost began climbing down.

“Soap.” You turned around to the commanding voice and the man with the mohawk turned around right on the edge of the decline. “Switch places with me. I need your eyes in the back.” Soap nodded immediately and walked passed you. He sent you a friendly little smirk just as John Price came to a halt next to you. “You´ll need your hands for this, there´s loose rubble all along this path” he said and took the blanket from your shoulders. The look in his eyes was almost pained. “Sorry” he said as he rolled up the blanket and stuffed it in his bag. “Here, this´ll help for now. Uhm…” he rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a long sleeve, olive green shirt. Holding it out to you he looked quite sheepish. “I´m sorry I…I had to use it before we got to you so…it´s not fresh or anything, but It´ll have to-“ You grabbed it immediately and gave him a grateful smile. “It´ll do just fine, thank you, Captain.” You pulled it over your head immediately, so you didn’t see John blink several times or the curious look Soap shot his Captain.

When you emerged from the too big shirt you nervously looked at the pathway before you. “Don´t worry” John said and gently touched your shoulder. “Ghost will be scouting, I´ll be right in front of you and Soap behind. Nothing´s going to happen.” His raspy voice and still scorching warmth gave you a funny yet very pleasant feeling in your guts. “Okey” you said and took a breath. “Okey.”

So, with the captains huge back in front of you, you started climbing down. You were slow. Many times you needed the help of either John or Soap. Soap gave you a hand in climbing up and John was there to either pull you up or help you jump down, always there to catch you. Every time, you noticed your temperature rise and you felt like it had nothing to do with the workout. The callouses of his hands felt better and more comforting than any soft, warm comforter you´ve ever owned. You really needed to keep it together.

Just when you were close to asking for a break you saw the path opening onto a small platform. With a gulp you saw that it was the edge of a cliff. Several hundred feet it fell down granting you a stunning yet frightening few of a sunset over a dusty, rocky landscape only ever so often interrupted with patches of green. Ghost was standing to your right were the platform thankfully expanded. When Soap landed next to you, he lead you over to were Ghost and Price were unpacking a few items from their bags. “We´ll have to stay here tonight. Giving there´s only two ways onto this platform it´s the safest we can be tonight” Price said as he handed you your blanket. “Safest?” you asked carefully. “I thought…but, they were all dead.” Your voice panicked slightly as the three men exchanged dark looks. “At least one of them must have gotten out” Soap grunted. “Otherwise they wouldn´t have had the time to sabotage out gas tank.”

“If they decided to come after us, we´ll be prepared” Ghost said in a level voice. Your heart was thumping in your chest and an overwhelming feeling of guilt filled your every cell. You hung your head as you carefully sat down, hissing slightly. “Your feet?” John immediately asked, kneeling in front of you. You shook your head not being able to look at him. “Muscle ache” you mumbled. John grunted and moved to hand you a water bottle. “I´m afraid I have to ask you not to drink the whole bottle at once. We´ll have to watch out for another water source.” John again sounded like he was about to punch himself. Maybe because you wouldn’t look at him? Aaaand there went another wave of guilt so you lifted your head and tried to smile. John sighed and his eyes took on a much warmer look. “There´s no need to put on a brave face,___.” Your name on his lips again sent a shiver through your body. “You can sleep. I´ll watch over you.”

Your eyes widened at his phrasing but he didn’t look away from you. Somehow his face seemed so familiar, you could look at him forever and never get enough. “Thank you, Captain” you whispered lamely because your brain wasn’t able to conjure up anything else. To your surprise John began to chuckle for a second and again looked you deeply in the eyes. With the setting sun in his back and the light blitz of his teeth you could almost forget the situation you all were in. He looked maddeningly handsome. The sheen of red in his hair coloured it almost auburn.

Along with his beard and cerulean eyes you were so, so tempted to lean forward but then John spoke again in a low, quiet voice. “John” he said and chuckled again when you looked at him questioningly. “Call me John. No need to use my title.” Your mouth opened slightly. “I can´t possibly-“ He shook his head and gave you a playfully stern look. “I´m afraid I must insist.” With these words he handed you a protein bar and pulled his duffle bag closer. “Use this as a pillow. We can´t make a fire but with the blanket, I think you´ll be alright.” He gave you a small smile that this time actually reached his eyes and you liked that one much, much more before he stood up and walked over to Ghost.

How am I supposed to sleep with his image in my head? You wondered before you tried to make the piece of rock as comfortable as possible. Your concern was futile however. As soon as your body somewhat relaxed it shut down. With your eyes on John´s back you felt them drooping quickly and exhaustion finally caught up with you.

You awoke what it felt like hours later. Not having slept longer than an hour at a time while being imprisoned, the knowledge of three soldier watching over you let your body and mind finally get the rest it needed. Still, when you opened your eyes, your back hurt slightly from the hard ground and your feet still ached from the march. Blinking you realised that the sun wasn´t quite up yet. Only a slight blue fog hung low over the land you were overlooking. Turning your head to the side you saw Ghost´s massive back standing close to the pathway you´d came down just hours before. His weapon in his arms, breathing evenly. You groaned quietly when you sat up and rubbed your neck. Soap was leaning on the stone wall to your right, his head bobbing up and down while he slept. A little further ahead you saw John. He was standing in front of the beginning of what seemed like the pathway down. You gulped. The path was quite broad for what it was but to the left it fell several hundred feet. No railing or security.

You stood and walked over to the Captain. When you were only a few steps away from him he turned his head to the side and watched you as you came to a halt beside him. “Did you sleep at all?” you asked quietly in a whisper. He hummed as he smiled to himself, adjusting his weapon in front of his chest. “ I slept enough.” It was your turn to hum, although yours sounded more disbelieving. John had to bite back a grin. “Are you rested enough? We´ll have to walk quite a way today.” He sounded concerned. You sighed. “I´m sorry” you said. John´s eyes took on an almost pleading look as he shook his head. “I must be such a millstone around your neck. I´m…I´m slow-“

“___” John said your name sternly. You didn’t dare look at him so you stared ahead while tears welled up in your eyes. When John spoke again, his voice had taken on a much gentler tone. “___. We don´t care about your level of fitness or whether you´re fast or not. We came to get you back home safe. That´s our mission. And if it takes us longer or one of us has to carry you the whole way, we don´t care. We care that we found you alive, first an foremost.”

You nodded and wiped away a stray tear. “You´re doing your job” you said and shrugged but somehow that sentence stung like hell. A flash of the same hurt crossed John´s face at the same moment but none of you saw the other. “It´s not just that” he mumbled into his beard without you hearing it.

Then he continued slowly. “We were deployed under the strict command of your father. He might…not show it much but, he´s quite worried about you.” You couldn’t help it. You scoffed pretty loudly and gave John a look that spoke volumes. “I believe he sent you. But you don’t have to say things that just aren’t true to make me feel better. I highly doubt he´s worried about me. He´s more likely to be worried about what this whole situation is doing to his reputation.” John was quiet for a while, then he said in a level voice. “I won´t presume to know what the relationship with your father is like. All I´m saying is that I saw his face during the briefing. It didn’t seem to be the face of a man that didn’t care about his child.”

You felt bad all of a sudden. Your father and you might have grown apart and distant, but did that mean that the love was actually gone? When shit hit the fan would you still be there for your parents? The answer was simple. Yes. And that made you feel even worse. You sniffled again when you thought about how low you´ve thought of your father. His role wasn’t an easy one and he sacrificed a lot for his career. You were still convinced that neglecting his family or becoming a cold and distant person was not the way to go but who were you to judge? You took the easy way out as well.

“Damn” you mumbled and wiped at your eyes. That seemed to only make it worse and the full extent of what had happened to you hit you full force. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” You started crying. In front of the most handsome man you had ever met. Perfect. You didn’t hear him move over your sniffling and your whimpers. All of it seized at once when you felt two huge arms around your shoulders. You were gently being pulled into a massive chest. The gear vest he was wearing was definitely not comfortable but you couldn’t have cared less at this point. You buried your face in it and held onto his waist with both hands, fisting his shirt. “It´s okey” you heard his low vibrato voice above you. “It´s okey. You´re safe. You´re safe” he was saying it as if to reassure himself of the fact that you actually were.

He held you against him for as long as you were still hiccupping and your forehead was pressed to his chest. He didn’t let go even the slightest.

John´s POV

Fuckin´ hell, he thought. If it weren´t for his vest you´d probably hear and feel his heart going ballistic in his chest. He didn’t blame you. How could he? You weren’t military and all that had happened to you must have been the happenings of nightmares. And still you allowed yourself only to break down now. He admired you for that.

He also didn’t blame you for not remembering him. Your meeting had been only the briefest of moments and you hadn’t really looked at him at all that night when you were introduced to him, but John? He couldn’t move his eyes away from you all throughout the festivities. He wasn’t used to nor did he like these functions much either so he very much understood your demeanour, whishing he would be allowed to show the same kind of disinterest in the glitz and glam.

The night had been dull until you were introduced to him. The moment his eyes locked briefly with yours, it felt like his world was turned upside down. He knew your disinterest wasn’t directed at him, he could feel it. John wanted so desperately to talk to you, get to know a bit more about you. He wanted to pick your brain about everything. To him you were electric, thrumming with honesty and simply radiant. So very different from himself.

And then, he´d lost sight of you. He was moving around the ground floor of the house with searching eyes trying to get one more glimpse. Just one more and he´d be happy. But he couldn’t find you again. Not in the living room, not in the tea room, not in the kitchen. His heart heavy with disappointment he bid his goodbye and left. He lay awake that night longer than usual. Your face, your grace and your dress in front of his inner eye for hours, days on end. He hadn’t seen you since then.

When he was called in for a hostage situation he thought he was prepared. The moment his eyes fell upon your father he knew he wasn’t. At first he begged the heavens that it was your brother that had been taken. It was so wrong of him, he knew that, but at least Alexander knew how to react in these situations. And then your name fell and so did his whole heart. Panic and worry flooded his system along with immeasurable anger and determination. He couldn’t let anybody know so he steeled himself and put on his mask. Your father directed some words at him in particular without knowing that John was internally roaring at him for not looking out for you. For just letting you out of his sight.

His tongue was glued to his palate so he only gave a short nod and a grunt before he turned around to collect his best men for the job. He had to collect himself. It wasn’t your fathers fault. No one could have thought that with your brother out there you´d be a high value target. You were a civilian. But then again that was probably why they chose to take you and not your brother. His blood began to boil and he knew if they found you injured or hell forbid, dead, he would wreak havoc among the bastards that dared lay a hand on you.

When they´d found you, alive and quite literally kicking, his chest had expanded with pride, relief and unbelievable affection. He was grateful that he´d had the chance to quench his bloodthirst when they´d started shooting first.

Now, here you were. Safe with them. And even though the danger wasn’t quite over yet, holding you and you letting him, made him feel more human than he´d had in years. He wanted to shield you from everything that scared you, made you uncomfortable or worried. He wanted to be your source of happiness more than anything. You might´ve been crying into his chest but he knew that some of those tears were relief. The feeling of your hands holding onto him almost desperately made his temperature rise and his determination to see you to safety tenfold.

His arms pulled you in a little tighter, hoping you wouldn’t move back. To his delight, you didn’t. On the contrary. You slowly stopped sniffling before you detached your forehead from him and turned your head, pressing the side of your head to his chest, still holding onto him. One of his hands moved on its own accord, just because it felt so natural holding you. He lay it gently on top of your head, moving his fingers over your hair. He heard you sigh and it was the most beautiful melody he´d ever heard.

As soon as you were safe and sound, he´d make sure….sure that what? He saw you again? He´d ask you out? His insides twisted painfully when he thought about it all. How was this ever supposed to work? You were a civilian. He was a Captain in the military. There were people, civilians in his everyday life that didn’t even know his actual name. Another life had never been in the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t imagine another, could he? The moment they´d all jump out of the heli and you´d fall into your family´s arms, would that be the last time he ever saw you? His heart hurt at that. It hurt.

______´s POV

His warmth. His incredible warmth, the gentleness of his hand on the top of your head and his manly, earthy scent made you feel safer than you´d had in at least a decade. A feeling of content overcame you and you wondered why it was that you could feel something like attraction and excitement in a situation like this. Maybe you shouldn’t care, maybe you should just go with it and let yourself be swapped away for once. You had a feeling that with John, you´d actually make a great choice this time. He was a man of his word, one with the ability to calm and excite you at the same time.

You didn’t want to let go. He was cozy, strong and easily made you feel like everything would be okey. Your heart was doing somersaults when you decided to get just a tad closer. Your hands that were fisted in his shirt by his waist wandered around it now. His chest slightly expanded with a sigh when you settled your arms around his middle comfortably. Something touched the top of your head and you felt like crying all of a sudden. With a feeling of monstrous affection you realised that the Captain had rested his cheek on your head. Breathing in sync you tried to calm your racing pulse and the rushing in your ears.

You stood there for another few moments before John lifted his head. You moved yours as well to look at him. Both your arms around each other not moving an inch. John was smiling but his eyes held and expression you couldn’t quite place. He looked almost….sad. When you looked at him questioningly he schooled his expression, shook his head slightly and smiled a bit wider. Ever so gently he moved one hand and softly touched your cheek. You were just about to explode, forgetting everything. A spell. It had to be a spell he´d cast on you.

“The moment you need a break, you tell me” he whispered. “No feeling bad, a´right?” The rumble in his chest vibrated through you. The corner of your mouth twitched as you nodded once gently. “Thank you” John let go of you, again with that sadness in his eyes and you were quite sure that this time you reflected that same expression.

The day was long and quiet. You made your way down the mountain and going downward turned out to be even more a strain on your muscles than upward. Ghost and John were still in front of you, Soap behind. At one point he stuck up a conversation with you. It turns out the Scotsman was incredibly funny and quite capable to distract your mind from the pain in your muscles. Still, your vision more often than not stuck to John´s back while you got distracted.

Of course Soap noticed and bumped his elbow into your shoulder playfully. “Ya kno´, I´ve never seen the Captain so focused when it comes to a hostage situation” he said with a grin. You looked at him confused. “Usually we take everything seriously of course but a hostage is usually easier to get back than let´s say…a missile.” He shrugged, still grinning. “I-I guess?” you said slowly. Soap´s gaze landed on the Captain as well before he spoke again. “On our way here, he was as focused as he would be on missions way more dangerous than this. If I didn’t know any better, I´d say he was…rigid. Nervous” he gave you a sideways look. “He´s never, never nervous.”

It couldn’t be helped, you whole body flooded with hope. It made you lightheaded. Or maybe it was dehydration, you didn’t know yet. Soap sighed dramatically and gave your already speeding heart another kickstart. “He even bobbed his knee. Never seen him do that either. You sure you don’t know each other from somewhere?” Humming you raked your brain. Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his. That ruggedly handsome face, the stern but laid back attitude. His whole being didn’t really seem to fit into any of the functions you would usually be introduced to people. But then again he was a Captain. And aside from what his rank was and that he was gentle, caring and frankly fucking hot, you didn’t know much about the man. It could be possible.

“I-I really don’t know” you answered truthfully. “It could be possible we´ve been introduced but…” you sighed and felt your face heat up. Soap chuckled next to you with a light “Aha”.

The closer you got to the base of the mountain, the hotter it got. At this point you couldn´t even remember ever having cold feet. Sweat was rolling down your back and temples and the light-headedness slowly became a problem. With the still quite steep cliff next to everyone, it worried you. When you turned what seemed like the last corner, you lifted your head from the path in front of you to look at John and Ghost. They were waiting a few meters ahead but they seemed to sway side to side. You reached out your hand to the right to stabilise yourself as your vision began to swim and nausea rose in your guts. Faintly you heard John call out your name and the next moment Soaps arm was around you. Your legs gave out and you sunk to the ground slowly. Not a second later John was kneeling at your side touching your face worriedly. His blue eyes open wide.

“Damn it, sweetheart. You promised” he said not caring about who heard him. “Ghost! Water.” Ghost handed him a full bottle and without hesitating he opened it and poured half of it down the back of your neck and over your head. It felt incredible and you let out a huge sigh. Next, John took your chin into his calloused fingers and lifted your face towards him. “Open” he grumbled. If you weren’t still slightly delirious it would have turned you on like nobodies business how he said it. You opened your mouth obediently while John held the bottle to your lips. Taking big gulps you felt the nausea fade little by little. Johns gaze was fixed on your lips while addressing the other two men.

“We´ll take a break here. Move into the shade over there. Soap, try to reach Gaz and Nick and see where they are. We´re about to reach the evac point early tomorrow morning.” The moment you were done drinking, John released the breath he was holding quietly and carefully wiped away a stray droplet of water from your chin. The gesture so fond your mouth twitched into a smile.

He moved slightly so you could look at him better and gave you a stern look. Before being able to apologise however he spoke. “Why didn’t you ask for a break? Dehydration isn't something you just walk off.” Again his hand moved to the side of your face and cradled it, his eyes swimming with worry. “I know. I´m sorry. I was about to ask…it overcame me quicker than I thought.”

Without thinking about it you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. You heard him take in a deep breath as he moved his thumb gently over your cheek. “Alright. We´ll take a break here. Come on, let´s get you into the shade.” He leaned over and pulled you upright. Just like the night they rescued you, he practically carried you over to where Ghost and Soap sat before letting you down, sitting next to you. “Sleep a little if you´re tired. We´ve almost got it.” You felt your limbs relax and groaned slightly. Before you knew it, John guided your drooping head onto his shoulder where it rested comfortably as you slept.

The next time you opened your eyes it was already dark. You jolted upright which made your head pound and looked around wildly. “___, calm down. It´s alright.” John was still next to you handing you some more water. “It´s dark already” you groaned. He nodded and gestured for you to drink. “We´re walking the rest of the way tonight. It´s only another four hours. Can you make it?” Dragging in air after you sat the bottle down you looked at him stubbornly. “Yes” you said simply. Looking around you realised you were alone. “Where are Ghost and Soap?”

“We spotted a stream further down. They are down there filling the water bottles. They´ll be waiting for us.” Your face fell again. “We´ve lost so much time” you whispered and leaned back into the stone. John shook his head. His face partially illuminated by the bright moon. “I´d much rather lose time than risk your wellbeing on the last stretch” he said earnestly. You looked at him again. Really looked at him. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper in this light, the edges of his face sharper and the light streaks of grey in his beard standing out more prominently. Neither of you spoke as a kind of understanding dawned in your eyes. His eyebrows rose slightly when he noticed your face getting closer and closer.

John´s POV

It was almost painful to look at the natural beauty the moonlight emphasized on your face. His breath caught in his lungs, his heart a single clump of worry and affection. He wanted to touch your face again, let his fingers feel the soft skin he feared he´d never get to touch again. Unknowingly his head moved forwards as well until your foreheads met and his nose slightly bumped yours. You closed your eyes and John swore for as long as he´d live, he´d remember this feeling. He´d treasure it in his heart until it gave out. He felt your hand on his and took it immediately. Squeezing it tightly he blew all caution to the wind and lifted it to his lips. When he brushed your knuckles he felt you take in a quick breath and saw you open your eyes again. Glittering and solely trained on him he waited with baited breath.

“You know me. Don´t you?” you whispered to him. He grasped your hand tighter again and nodded against your forehead. “Your parents´ spring party two years ago” he whispered. “You wore a pale blue summer dress” he took a deep breath and continued in a playful accusatory tone. “And you ignored me.”

Hearing you giggle made his whole world spin slightly faster. “I ignored everyone at that party” you said gently, your eyes boring into his. “Kind of whish I hadn´t now.” John´s heart nearly gave out at your confession. “I can´t believe I don´t remember you” you whined and again closed your eyes. “Will you stop putting yourself down, darling?” he asked and because he just couldn’t help himself, kissed the back of your hand again.

_____´s POV

The endearment he used made your whole body quiver. What was it about this man? It took every ounce of willpower in you not to move into him and close the gap.

“I´m just saying,” you said and slightly detached from him to look at him more earnestly. “If I´d paid more attention-“ “It doesn´t matter now,___” John said and squeezed your hand. “Besides” he bunched his eyebrows together. “I almost didn’t go to the thing. Those fancy gatherings…they´re not for me.” He smiled at you. The lines around his eyes again so prominent. You reached out and gently let your fingers glide over them. “Yeah” you said with a smile of your own. “I know the feeling.”

A few minutes later, John and you made your way down the rest of the way. To make sure you were okey, he didn’t let go of your hand until the dark shadows of his two team mates appeared. “___” Soap said quietly as you came into view. “You a´right?” You nodded and smiled at him. “I´m good, Soap. Thanks”

Without another word you started you started the last few hours of your journey. You followed Soap while John took his place behind you as you marched on. The moon was just bright enough to let you see where you were going but not much else. Which was ideal since you couldn’t use flashlights. Now that you reached level ground the last few hours went by without a hitch for you.

Eventually you heard John sigh behind you. “That´s it, we just crossed the border. If we were being followed, they wouldn’t be so stupid as to attack here.” Relief flooded your system and your pace picked up.  Another half hour later and you could see a huge dark mass in the distance. Something was moving around it. John put his fingers to his ear. “Gaz, we´re 5 minutes out. Ready the heli.”

A few moments later the massive corpus of a helicopter came into view. It sat disguised by the dark and some rogue boulders far off the road. You noticed two other men waiting by the heli. A strapping young fellow jogged over to you. “Glad to see you all in one piece, Captain” he said as he got closer. “Gaz” John said and gave the man a hefty clap on the shoulder. “Well done.” The man named Gaz looked at you with a proud expression. “You too Ms.___. Your parents will be happy to see you unharmed.” You nodded weakly, the end of this nightmare making your legs shake.

John walked over to a second man that was casually leaning against the helicopter, you following him. “Nick” he said with a grateful tone. “Thanks for helping us out. Again.” The men shook hands in a way that you were sure would have crushed not only your entire hand but your forearm as well. “Anytime, Captain” the deep, dark voice of Nick answered with a thick Russian accent.

Suddenly, the mood shifted. You didn’t quite know what happened but all five men at the same time turned their heads towards the horizon behind the casually strewn boulders. Within seconds, Nick jumped into the open helicopter, Soap and Ghost ran over to the boulders, weapons drawn and aiming them at the horizon and John whirled you around to face him. “I need you to do exactly as I tell you.” His tone of voice changing dramatically with no room for disobedience. Fear paralysed you, so you just nodded. He shook his head. “Words.”

“Yes, I will.”

With a roar the helicopter came to life and John´s face was illuminated. An ice bold bucket emptied its contents into your innards. John had a look of fear in his eyes. His face was stone hard, his jaw set but his eyes wouldn’t leave yours. And then, in the distance you saw what they´d heard way before you did. Vehicles. Making their way quickly over to your location. Your eyes snapped back to John´s but before you could say anything, the hands that were holding your shoulders pulled you in as he crashed his lips onto yours.

Shock, warmth and even more panic rushed through your veins as the rotators of the helicopter began to turn faster and faster. John´s lips were insistent for as long as they were on yours. The moment he let go, he looked at you with a guilt. Over the gradually louder becoming sounds of the heli he almost had to yell at you. Regret and something determined in his eyes.

“Two years. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you!”

One more time he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you. You, in all the panic and happiness that you felt kissed him back with all your might.

That was until he let go, looked over your head at Gaz and roared “Get her home, Seargent!” Confusion and hurt were the things you felt most when two strong arms grabbed you from behind and all you saw was John´s retreating back. Readying his weapon and joining Soap and Ghost.

“No! No, what are you doing?! Gaz, let go!! Wait…JOHN!!” Gaz, without even having to struggle hauled you up into the helicopter. You were about to jump out again but the determined soldier held your fighting body back with one arm before the other one hammered against the door to the cockpit three times. “Take-off, Nick!” he yelled into the radio.

“NO! NO TAKE-OFF!” you screamed as loud as you could as tears ran down your face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? THEY´RE STILL DOWN THERE!! YOU CAN´T LEAVE THEM HERE!!” The moment the helicopter left the ground the first few bullets soared through the air, at least five of them hitting it in rapid motions. Gaz pushed you down quickly, laying on top of you until you were high enough in the air and turning direction.

You couldn’t even hear what you were screaming anymore. All you heard were shots from both sides, scattering tires and then…an ear shattering explosion. Heat and the glowing of fire in the distance illuminating your face. It couldn’t be. It was not supposed to end this way!

“JOOOOOOOOOHN!!!”

___________________________________________________________

Sometime into the flight home, your body gave up on staying conscious. Your vocal cords hurting, your chest burning and no more tears to shed, you slipped under.

You only came to when the helicopter touched ground again and the flashing lights of an ambulance illuminated your face. It all happened very quickly. You were hauled onto a stretcher, lights were shone into your eyes and irritation flooded your body. So many voices…one in particular. “___” you heard the deep rumble of your father. He sounded relieved, almost choked up. “___, darling, can you hear me?” You opened your eyes and the memories came flooding back. Adrenalin surged through your body and with surprising strength you grasped onto your fathers wrist. “It´s okey, darling. It´s okey. You´re home. You´re safe” your father said and took your hand. You shook your head trying to speak.

“Stop” your father bellowed to the paramedics that were pushing your stretcher, leaning over you. “What is it, love?” You had some difficulty finding your voice. “John” you whispered. “Ghost, Soap. They´re still…They´re still…” tears ran down the side of your face and something dawned on your fathers face. Still holding your hand reassuringly he yelled for Gaz who came running over, saluting your father.

“Seargent” your father said in an irritated tone. “What happened?” Gaz took a deep breath. “Ambush, Sir. The Captain gave the order to leave them. We were only able to escape because they stayed.” Your father looked at your devastated, pleading face and then over to the Helicopter. Propped up as you were, you saw Nick standing next to it, lighting a cigarette. Your fathers eyebrows narrowed. “Do I even want to know who that is?” he asked sternly. Again, Gaz saluted. “With all due respect, Sir. No, you do not.” Your father nodded once and again looked at you, his expression softening.

“Seargent Garrick” he addressed Gaz who still stood there with an intact salute. “I sent four of my best men on this mission” His eyes narrowed as he gritted out his next sentence. “I expect four of them back!” Gaz swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

Seemingly satisfied with this answer your father jerked his head towards the helicopter and Gaz took off running. You saw how Nick stubbed out his cigarette and jumped back inside. A few moments later, they were off again. A little spark of hope settled in your aching chest. Your father leaned over you again, gently stroking your cheek. “Now” he said in a voice you hadn´t heard from him since you were a small child. “Let´s get you taken care of. Your mother is beside herself with worry.”

It was all bitter sweet. When you arrived at the hospital and wheeled into a fancy one patient only room, you mother jumped from the chair she was sitting in with a wail you´d never heard from her and threw herself onto you. Clawing at your dirty clothes and kissing your dirt smudged forehead you suddenly realised how old she looked. No makeup, hair haphazardly thrown into a bun on top of her head, she looked ages older and somehow more human than she had in a long, long time. Not being able to hold back anymore, you clung to her like a child and cried into her chest.

When your father entered the room all he saw was his wife and daughter in the same bed, cuddling and sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help the smile on his face, took a picture with his phone and sent it to his son. “Call me now” his message read underneath.

The next time you woke up, your mother was gone but in the chair beside your bed sat your father. When you stirred, he immediately perked up and took your hand. “Hey, sweety. How´re you feeling?” he said in a low voice. You smiled slightly. “Thirsty” you rasped. He nodded and got up to pour you a glass of water while you pushed the button on your bed to sit up. You took the glass from him and downed it quickly. “They´ve put an IV in you but I guess more water can´t possibly hurt” he said when he took the glass back from you. You nodded, staring at the IV in your hand.

So many things rushed through your head all at once and you didn’t know how to even begin. Apparently neither did your father. The silence stretched but then, your father spoke in a small voice that you´d never heard from him.

“I´m so sorry, sweetheart. This is all my fault.”

Hot tears welled in your eyes again as you shook your head. “It´s not” you said weakly but he shook his head. “The only reason you were taken is me and my position. I should have looked out for you! I´m so sorry.” You took his hand and squeezed it.

“I didn’t exactly let you” you said sniffling. “I basically ran away, remember?” He nodded, looking at your crumbled sheets. “I always thought my position and the hard work I put behind it would somehow make your and your brothers life easier.” He sighed. “You know, with the reputation and the benefits that came with it. I wanted to open all doors for you.” You nodded. “Along the way however, I didn’t even realise that I closed some of these doors again myself. Because they wouldn’t fit into said reputation.” He again shook his head in disbelieve. “How foolish.”

“Please look at me” you said. Your fathers eyes met yours and something raw catapulted itself out of your chest when you saw his eyes. “Please don’t ever think that neither Alexander nor I don’t know what you´ve sacrificed. We just couldn’t understand it when we got older. You became…distant. And Mum…downright obsessed with perfection. It was hard, especially for Alexander to understand what was asked of us. And, I´m so sorry to say but in my opinion, Alec took the blow.” Your father nodded and looked more ashamed than you´d ever seen him. “He took the blow so I could be myself. So I could rebel. He took on the work, I took on the disappointment.”

“Neither of you have ever been a disappointment” came a small voice from the door. Turning your head you saw your mother walking over to you with tears in her eyes. “It all got out of hand so quickly. Your father climbing the ranks, the social responsibility that came with it. The constant questions and comparisons” she wiped at her eyes. “At one point we thought what society expected of our children, we should expect from out children. We were wrong. So wrong.” She shook her head, her mouth in a straight line. “I think none of us ever forgot the love we have for one another but…priorities shifted and we all got frustrated at some point and we all showed that. All except Alec, of course. He always just tried to…keep it all together” a sob escaped her and she shook her head vehemently.

“No more, I say” she said resolutely and looked at your father challengingly, who nodded with wide eyes, staring at her like he´d just seen her for the first time. “No more of this nonsense. I love throwing parties. But not when the people attending are trying to tell me what to expect from my family. You-” she looked at your father, “have worked yourself to the bone and it paid off. You deserve to rest on your laurels.”

Your father smiled at her fondly. “And frankly” she inhaled a deep breath while you stared at her with an open mouth. “I don’t give a damn if Bernadett What´sHerFace-worthy doesn’t approve of it. She can stick it up her-“

“OKEY, Mum. I think we get it” you said loudly. Little red flecks of rage had formed on your mothers face before she took one look at your dumbfounded face and started giggling. It felt like something huge lifted itself off of your chest. The next moment you dissolved into tears while your parents either kissed your temple or hand. “I wish Alec was here” you hiccupped a few moments later.

“He´ll be here within the next hour” your father said with a look at his watch. You looked at him confused. “I-I thought he was deployed.”

“He was” your mother said with a careful tone. “Oh, darling. You were so exhausted. You-You were out for a while.” Your heart beat faster. “How long?” you asked.

“Two whole days.”

Alexander arrived about an hour later like your father had said. Throwing down his bag he hurried over to you and hugged you close for several minutes. His black hair seemed dull and greasy and his eyes were sunken in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in several days. “You look awful” you said in a light tone. Chuckling he leaned back and nodded. “I know, I know.” He heaved a sigh through his nose. “I haven’t slept much. I was bloody worried about you. Just sitting somewhere, not being able to help. I was so glad when Dad said he sent Captain Price. That man-“ he stopped talking when you started whimpering. “___?” he asked carefully.

“There was an ambush at the evac point” you stuttered out through your sobs. “Gaz and Nick brought me back but John” you took a shaking breath. “John and the others stayed to make sure we could escape.” Alex looked at you and tried to console you. “Oh,___, I´m so sorry you had to see that. The Captain surely didn’t make this decision lightly. But trust me, he´s one of the most capable men I´ve ever-“ “There was an explosion” you whispered and looked at your brother with wet eyes. His face fell and there was nothing more he could say. Instead he took you into his arms again and let you cry into his shoulder.

“By the way” Alexander eventually said to try and take your mind off of the Captain and his fate. “What the heck did you say to Dad? He wrote me a message to call him and didn’t use any exclamation marks.” You rubbed at your eyes and looked at his face. “Told him the hard truth. How it was growing up with him and Mum. We´ve had some…conversations.” Alexander nodded and smiled brightly at you. “It was about time they heard it.” He looked grateful. “Thank you for doing the hard part. I can´t remember the last time Dad pulled me in for a hug.” You shook your head. “You´ve don’t the hard part for years. It was nothing.” Alexander gave you a stern look, almost scolding.

“I don’t want to be that person,___, but I´m not sure you realise. You almost died a few days back. The chances of getting you back were slimmer than you might imagine.”

A cold feeling ran down your back and again you were reminded of the heroes that saved your life. And quite possible sacrificed theirs to do so. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you.  

“They can´t be gone” you said with a think voice. “He can´t be gone” You shook your head in defiance. Your phrasing let your brother perk up and sincerely he hoped, that he didn’t give Captain Price too much credit.  

You were released quite quickly after you woke up. Other than being exhausted and your feet having seen better days, your body was fine. Your parents brought you home with them for a few days so you wouldn’t be alone. It was a little strange to be in your spotless childhood home that hadn’t exactly invoked the best of feelings in you for the last couple of years.

Now however, your family sat at the ginormous kitchen island together, drinking wine, you mother cooking her favourite Italian dish and no one caring about whether a stray spaghetti fell onto the marble countertop or you father laughed so hard at something Alec said that he spilled wine everywhere before being able to set his glass down.

You looked around the faces of the people you loved. Noticing how your brother started to look like your father more and more and for one, that thought didn’t make you sad or mad. You saw your mother smiling and giggling like she used to and not looking like she constantly smelled something bad. Why hadn’t this been possible before you almost lost your life.

“Promise me something, all of you” you said and looked at all of them. Their attention was on you instantly. “Please let´s not forget that this,” you gestured around your family and yourself. “Could have been us all along. We can´t get back to old patterns.” You looked at your mother who smiled with wet eyes. “I´m not saying I particularly enjoyed being abducted but-“ you had to grin a little. “It showed us all very clearly what was important in the end. Really important. I won´t run anymore.” Pointing at you father you said “You will stop being distant and show us that you love us, damnit.” Your father nodded his head strongly and whispered a ´promise´.

“You” you pointed at your brother. “You will stop trying to be Dad all the time. You´ve already accomplished so much! Slow down.” Alexander gave you a mock salute. “And you” you moved your head towards your mother. “Please for the love of all that is holy, take that stick out of your arse and be your own person. Have your own mind and opinions.” Your mother looked at you proudly before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you close to her chest, kissing your head several times.

That night you lay in bed, body not hurting much anymore, slightly drunk on wine and happiness that your family found each other again. And yet, deep, deep hurt settled in your guts. You had your family back and lost the man you were falling in love with. You knew it the moment he said it. His image and touch never left your mind and you worried and cried each night, wondering if he was alive. If Gaz and Nick had reached him, Ghost and Soap. It had almost been a week since the moment he´d kissed you and you were nowhere near ready to accept that his demise was an option. It scared you more than anything. You decided to ask your father to get some inside information on the matter in the morning.

A knock on your door woke you up. “___” your mothers voice came through the door before it opened and she stuck her head in. “___, darling, please get up. Breakfast is ready.” She was grinning ear to ear and somehow that made you nervous. “What´s going on?” you asked as you got out of bed. “Nothing” you mother sang before she moved away from the door. “Hurry, though” she added before walking down the stairs. You shook your head before getting dressed, checking on your hair and brushing your teeth.

Halfway down the stairs you heard the voices of several men and halted immediately. Your heart was jumping around your ribcage as you tried to make out what they were saying. You heard a Scottish lilt and immediately started thundering down the last steps and ran into the living room. Almost running into the couch you scattered to a halt as soon as you saw the bulking mass of Ghost standing at the bay window and Soap, who had been talking to your brother before you came in. Now, he regarded you with a brilliant smirk and a wink.

Before you could do much else, you sprinted forward and hugged Soap quickly, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. “Aww, no need for tears, now” he said and patted your back affectionately. “You´re okey” you whispered as you let go of him and regarded both soldiers with a tearful laugh. “You´re both alright” you wiped at your eyes. Soap chuckled. “Yep.”

But that would mean…You turned and scanned the room. Through the open French doors you could see into the kitchen but there was only your mother. Your brother, Soap and Ghost were all in the living room with you. Soap seemed to know who you were looking for and pointed his eyes over to the door that lead into your fathers office.

Said door opened right then and there. Your father walked out with a satisfied look on his face. Behind him, the man that had been hunting your good and bad dreams emerged. Time seemed to stand still.

You were only used to seeing him in his gear, tactical vest and all. This version of him wore washed out jeans, boots, a black V-neck sweater and a navy blue beanie. He´d never looked more attractive. His eyes found yours immediately and his first action was to take his beanie off his head before he took several long strides towards you. His arms held you the moment your knees gave out and you started sobbing into his strong chest. Finally being able to fully feel his body underneath your palms you weren’t that surprised to see that the man was actually built like a tank.

Your arms wound around his waist, palms spread across his back while you shook in his arms. “Shhh” he whispered into your hair. “It´s okey, darling. I´m here.” Your sobs became momentarily more intense before slowly dying down. Now, just sniffling, your face was still resting on one of his pecks, you felt his heartbeat strong and quick against your skin and it calmed you down like nothing else. You lifted your head and looked at him. It felt like seeing him again after years of yearning and missing him. Oh, did you miss him.

His eyes were slightly wet and swimming with happiness as he took your face in his hands. “I was so worried about you, are you broken?” he asked in a quiet voice and looked you up and down. You huffed incredulously. “Me, John? Me? You were the one we left there. Being shot at…Are you alright?” He nodded his head gently and leaned his forehead against yours again. It was a feeling like coming home. “I had to make sure you got out of there. That was my first priority. I´m sorry I put you through all that.”

Your hands moved from fisting his sweater, to gently palming his chest and finally snaking your arms around his neck. He smiled lovingly at you and pulled you closer by your waist. “Listen” he said hesitantly before he rushed out “I know this is your parents house and I really don’t want to piss off your father but damn it, my love, I missed you so much I-“

“Kiss me already, you big oaf” you said with a smile before finally pulling him down towards you.

His lips connected with yours in a much gentler way than the first time. Everything seemed better. His lips softer, the air sweeter, the day brighter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his breath on your lips, his beard slightly scratching your skin and his earthy scent in your nose. Playfully he nipped on your lower lip before you giggled and opened your mouth.

Groaning he moved a hand into your hair and let his tongue glide over yours once, slowly, sensually before moving back slightly and panting.

“Fucking hell, baby. There´ll be time for that. I´ll make time for that but maybe not here, yeah?” Your head was spinning but you nodded deliriously and with a dopey smile on your face. It felt like walking on clouds being in his arms. He hugged you close again and you melded into him for what felt like hours. One of his big hands cradled your head, the other one gently raking over your back. John´s nose buried in your hair.

From the corner of your eye you could see your family and friends sending you smiles and some thumbs up. Grinning again you detached from John to tell him what´s been burning on your tongue for days.

“I'm falling for you” you whispered.

John´s eyes went wide and his chest expanded quickly. “You are?” he asked as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded and stroked his cheek. “I am. I was so scared. I saw the explosion and I thought-I thought-” John looked at you apologetically. “You saw it?” he asked and rubbed your back soothingly. “I´m sorry, darling. That was Soap actually. He´s pretty good at making things go ´KA-BOOM´. Saved our arses.” He kissed your forehead. “We got out. We´re alright. I´m here and you´re with me.” Happily you nodded your head and looked at him with all the love and admiration you felt.

“My hero” you said with a grin. John pulled a face before kissing your lips once more.

“No hero, baby. Just me. Just yours.”

____________________________________________________-

Thank you very much for reading such a long oneshot :D You guys are amazing. Please consider interacting with this post. What helps most is feedback. So comments and reblogs are hugely apreciated.

Thank you all very much <3

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex x Reader x John Wick WIP Part 5!

Ready evil geniuses? @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake

John lets you rest after wrecking you for the umpteenth time, disappearing off somewhere. You put off leaving the bedroom for as long as you can, but in the end you can't stand it anymore. You rummage in the closet for a new shirt. Your choices are black, black, and you'll never guess... black. 

This house must belong to John.

How many safe houses does that man have?

When you walk out of the bedroom in your new getup you find Tex in the living room watching TV. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“We have got to get you some clothes, baby girl.”

You shrug. The boxer t-shirt combo is actually pretty comfy.

You think you might make your way to the kitchen, but Tex snaps his fingers at you as you try to walk past.

You turn to look at him with a raised brow. 

“Can I help you?”

That was the wrong thing to say, obviously. 

His grin is that of a hungry wolf. 

“I bet you can. C'mere, darlin'.”

You sigh, but after your little lesson with John, you're not quite so inclined to defy him. 

Yet.

You're going to have to get smarter about how you expend your energy. 

Easier said than done. 

You pad over next to him. He pats his thigh in invitation, but you opt to sit next to him instead. This lasts for about two seconds, before he hauls you into his lap with his big hands and his strong arms.

Goddammit.

“That's better,” he says with a sly grin, holding you close. 

You take a moment to look at him—really look at him, from up close. The sweep of his almond shaped eyes, his high cheek bones and the short scruff of his beard. He stares back at you, unabashedly. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes at you, bumping his forehead with yours. You wish it wasn't adorable. Fucking man child, making you feel things.

“Wanna watch tv?”

It beat anything else he could dream up, so you agree. You hadn't forgot that he still owed you for your flipping of the bird earlier. You're sure he hasn't either. 

He turns on some stupid gratuitous action flick, and you kind of zone out. Your thoughts drift to John, and the things he told you in-between fucking you silly. 

He'd said that he and Tex would not take on the FBI just for a plaything, or a whore. Deep down, you knew what that meant. 

It meant, they had no real intention of letting you go. The thought filled you with equal parts dread—and wonder. 

Why the fuck would not one, but two fine ass men like this want you, for keeps? It's beyond your comprehension—and if you're honest, kind of flattering. Bat shit fucking crazy, but flattering.

Either that, or it's just...convenient. Your circumstances created a perfect storm from which to snatch you without a trace or a person to care about getting you back.

"Want to see somethin'?" asks Tex, interrupting your reverie.

"Okay?"

He clicks play on the remote once he has your attention. You watch as a 1970s muscle car jumps an impossible ramp, then lands roughly on the other side of a canal. "That was me."

You lift an eyebrow, looking back at him. "In the car?"

"Yeah."

He's grinning like a little kid, clearly proud. 

"You were a stunt man?"

"Uh huh."

You tilt your head, trying to put pieces together and failing. The square block is not fitting in the circle hole. 

"Then why...?"

"Killin' people pays better, believe me. Less dangerous, too."

A chill runs down your spine. 

"Oh."

Your gaze drifts away, but he turns it back to him with a hand on your chin. Those jet black eyes bore into yours, like he can see into your soul. His eyes flick down to your mouth, a moment before he leans in to kiss you. Your first instinct is to offer teeth, before you remember if you have to have sex one more time in the next twenty-four hours, you might literally die. You slip your tongue into the seam of his lips, and feel him smile against your mouth. 

"Mmm. A man could get used to this."

He slides his hand up your thigh, fingertips sneaking past the loose hem of your boxer shorts. 

You wrap your fingers around his, praying. "Tex, please."

"Like the sound of that," he says between kisses, outmuscling you to move his hand higher.

"I'm so sore."

"Sounds like an excuse to me. John gets you to himself but I don't?"

"It's not my fault you're both hung like horses."

This appeal to his ego makes him grin. "Ain't you a lucky girl?"

"Only if you don't hurt me."

He has the gall to give you a pouty face. Again, it should be fucking ridiculous, but somehow it's cute. He cups the side of your face, pushing his thumb between your lips. "How sore is your mouth?" he asks, eyes glittering.

It's not high on your list of things you want to do, but you're having to weigh your options these days. You suck his thumb, and you swear you watch a fire ignite in his eyes.

"Also sore," you say around his digit, sounding ridiculous as he presses down on your tongue. Your jaws hurt. Even your mouth is bruised from kissing. Jesus. You're not a goddamn python.

You try to retreat, but he forces his thumb deeper.

Absolutely out of instinct to defend yourself, you start to bite him.

Maybe you stop yourself before it can hurt or you break skin, but for the wicked gleam in his eyes you know it doesn’t matter. Suddenly you find yourself flipped on your stomach over his lap, as though you are nothing but a doll.

“You are a nippy little thing, you know that?” When he wrenches down your boxers, propping your ass in the air with his trunk of a thigh beneath you, you’re afraid you know exactly what he has in mind.

“No—”

His hand between your shoulder blades pins you down. “You’re just going to make it worse for yourself,” he says in a sing-song tone, almost as though he hopes you will fight him more. His fingers fanned out over your butt cheek rub lightly, soothing over your copious bruises. It feels so good that the first stinging smack makes you jump sky-high.

“Hey!”

“Hush and take your licks, little girl.”

“I hate you!”

“I was gonna say five, for flippin’ me off, but now it’s six. Comprende?”

You whimper, but for the first time since this whole fiasco started, you do the smart thing and shut your dumb fucking mouth, hanging your head in the pillows with resignation.

He’s just spanking you, you reason. How bad can it be?

He has a hand like a catcher’s mitt and arms corded with muscle.

Bad. The answer, is bad.

Yet he doesn’t lay into you immediately, soothing you with featherlight touches over your buttocks and the backs of your thighs. That part feels good, actually, and fuck you if you don’t start to feel the stirrings of desire between your legs.

What. The ever loving. FUCK. Is wrong with you?

“So pretty,” he says, toying with the bend of your knee. It makes your toes curl, and he offers up a deep chuckle that you almost feel more than hear. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you answer meekly, closing your eyes.

“See, I can be sweet, if you’re sweet to me.”

The next smack on the other cheek makes you jump again, but this time you do not protest.

“Ahh. She can be taught.”

You whimper, but keep your expletives to yourself. This is not exactly what you would call sweet…but the contrast of the stinging blows with his featherlight touch afterwards is doing things to you that you do not understand.

“Take this off,” he demands, lifting the hem of your shirt up your back.

For once, you obey him the first time, squirming in your awkward position on your belly and pulling it over your shoulders, leaving you bare and totally exposed upon his lap. He runs his fingers up the curve of your spine, making you shudder upon him. You can’t see his smug grin, but you know, you just fucking know it’s there.

Smack.

You can’t help but cry out, but the pleasure and the pain is strangely starting to meld together. Your treacherous, stupid little cunt has begun to throb, and as his fingers caress dangerously close to your crease you find that you wish he would touch you there.

By the time he’s finished with your licks you are a finely trembling, aching mess on his lap, your fingers like claws in the throw pillow, your ass in the air as though begging for it of its own volition.

Finally he does dip his thick fingers into your weeping slit, groaning to himself for the wetness he finds there. He circles your bud with the thick tip of his finger, making you moan and arch into him like the stupid little hypocrite you are.

“That’s a mighty nice little pussy you’ve got there,” he says, his voice turned pure gravel with desire. “Too bad you’re too sore.”

He withdraws and shoves you off his lap as he stands, leaving you in a heap of pliable naked limbs on the couch. The frustrated sound that escapes your throat is barely human, and the grin he pays you is the baring of teeth from a predator to a rabbit across the wood.

“Now don’t let me catch you touchin’ yourself,” he warns, looming over you. “You won’t like what happens next.”

 On that note he struts off, and you watch him go with a glare, unable to stop yourself from thinking he has the nicest, tightest little butt this side of the Mississippi river.

Bastard.