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auspicioustidings · 6 months
Text
Savage
Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.
Words: 3.7k
CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut
Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.
It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.
You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained. 
When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.
The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.
You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.
You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground. 
Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.
“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”
Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself. 
“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.
You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.
“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”
You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.
“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”
You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.
“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.
You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move. 
The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt. 
When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees. 
“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”
His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you. 
“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”
The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.
When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.
It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.
“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”
Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.
You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.
“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”
You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger. 
“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”
You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.
“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”
He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation. 
He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat. 
You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time. 
He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones. 
“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body. 
You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it. 
You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.
“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”
The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.
You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.
The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air. 
“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”
“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain. 
The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching. 
Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.
“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.
You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.
He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind. 
John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience. 
He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.
-
“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.
He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out. 
“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.
“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.
Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.
“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.
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auspicioustidings · 6 months
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TF141 who are your worst nightmare/wildest daydream on your holiday in the nice all inclusive that you've went to alone because your partner cheated on you and you couldn't get a refund.
Price who keeps being in the tiny elevator with you in the morning. You never get to press buttons, he always does it for you. Cages you into a corner with his big body whenever it gets crowded without saying a word, just giving you an indulgent smile like he's amused by how much looking after you need. Always has a hand in the small of your back when you get out.
Ghost is always on the lounger next to you. When you try to move into the stronger sunshine as soon as your back is turned your stuff has moved right back next to where he's sitting. You've never caught him moving it and you cannot work up the courage to accuse him without proof. He applies suncream to you every 2 hours without fail, not even warning you before hands are massaging it in to your back.
Soap and Gaz absolutely catch you anytime you are using the hot tub. Doesn't matter how quiet a time of day it is, as soon as you relax two big bodies are bullying their way in next to you, bantering away with one another like you're not even there. They'll inevitably play fight at some point, but with you in the middle hands keep landing on your bare thigh.
At least you never eat dinner alone, one of them always just grabs your plate and puts it at their table.
God help you if you indulge a little too much in the free bar because they're only going to encourage you and let you get messy drunk and rant about your ex and how this was supposed to be romantic and how you were really looking forward to this big castle visit with a fancy dinner you had planned but its too pathetic to go alone.
They take you the next day <3
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auspicioustidings · 4 months
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Any version of Soap in any position of power would be soooo disgusting, calling IT Security reader at all times of the day and telling her that the speaker on his computer doesn’t work, while he’s clearly streaming some porno in the background 😭😭😭
You get it Lumi, he's a sick freak :) You also sent this while I happen to be working through 1k requests so bonus short for you <3
Back Chat
Words: 1k
CWs: non-con groping, just all around gross awful Soap
Sergeant John MacTavish was the reason you had poured over your contract for any get out clause that didn't cost you a fortune. You came up with nothing. The military had paid for a high end training course for you on the provision that if you left the role within 2 years then you had to pay every penny back.
Plus this job paid well and the benefits were great. You didn't even mind having gruff military personnel seeing fit to give you a bollocking over the phone because you would be following procedure whether they liked it or not and they could file a damn ticket if they wanted their issue looked at. Generally they were an OK bunch at heart, but rough around the edges and used to recruits eager to please them. When they realised your lack of any rank also excused you from being ordered around by anyone but your actual boss they usually mellowed out.
Of course you had made the mistake of chewing out one such gruff man after he called in a temper demanding that his laptop be fixed as a priority. Not even his work laptop, no he wanted his personal laptop fixed.
“Look MacTavish was it?”
“Sergeant MacTavish tae you.”
“No it isn't. I am not one of your soldiers. I work in IT for the military, your laptop is not military property so I'm not touching it. Use your big boy Sergeant wage and buy a new one.”
“Listen here ye wee bitch-”
You hung up on him and got on with your day right up until he physically showed up at your office on base. You handled IT for multiple bases, you had not considered that the person you had chewed out would actually work on this one. Oops.
He was a big motherfucker as well. Handsome. Crazy scary dog energy. Definitely not your usual soldier with his lack of uniform (unless jeans and a t-shirt that was so tight he was liable to tear out of it was uniform these days) and out of regulation haircut. You scrambled to try and stand but he was already looming over you in your chair, leaving you no space to do so as he settled his hands on the armrests and leaned over you to get into your face.
“I'll need tae settle for you then hen. Better make it good.”
“Excuse me?”
“The lassie on my laptop begs tae get it up the arse. Is a good girl for a thick cock pounding her tight cunt. Even when she's fucked oot her nut and ruined she still gags around a man down her throat and swallows like a proper bitch.”
You were flooded with fear and arousal. Nobody had ever spoken to you like that and you weren't entirely sure he was joking. He wouldn't actually do anything to you right? He was just being a dick because he wanted his laptop fixed. Just trying to intimidate you.
“And I bet she gets paid a lot more than me MacTavish, back off.”
Oh no. There was a feral gleam in his eye and a rabid grin that showed those sharp incisors. He clearly relished your response.
“Then I'll need to buy ye with, what was it? Right. My big boy Sergeant wage.”
He leaned in close and took a deep breath. Christ he was sniffing your currently greasy and messy hair. You hadn't showered in like 2 days, you were fucking IT, it wasn't like people usually came to physically see you in your little den.
“...I'll fix your fucking laptop oh my God just bring it by.”
“Atta girl” he all but panted into your ear before tugging at the lobe with his teeth and then fully tounging at your ear hole.
The sensation was truly the most awful thing you had ever felt. Your skin crawled and your body shivered uncomfortably as you tried to push him away from you. He chuckled and you choked on your own saliva as he firmly smacked your pussy before pulling away.
“I'll bring it right doon.”
You were left completely gobsmacked in your little office, your body hopped up on adrenaline and your cunt throbbing from the spank it had gotten and from the sick part of your mind that found the whole thing depraved and disgusting but sort of titillating.
When he brought the laptop back he hovered behind you while you worked on it, making you sweat. It was an easy enough fix and you sighed in relief and carefully avoided eye contact when you told him it was fixed.
“Ye’ll check it over, cannae be sending me away with a half done job.”
“You can see that it's working.”
He leant over, arms surrounding you so he could scroll over to open a video file. It was of a woman being railed hard from behind, drooling into the pillow and babbling for more. The wet squelch was disgusting, the man spitting down on her and smacking her already red ass.
“Speakers are fucked.”
You squirmed in your seat.
“I can hear it just fine.”
“Aye? What are ye hearing then?”
You remained silent, eyes fixed on the wall instead of on the screen. At least you were silent until he drew a yelp from you by groping one of your tits.
“Told ye, if ye cannae prove that it's fixed I'll need to settle for you. Bit shorter, softer and dirtier than my lassie mind, so got tae give it yer full effort.”
“I-It's working!”
“Prove it, what ye hearing?”
He made you replicate the whole script from each broken moan to the begging to the degrading. He was only satisfied when the whole video had run its course, by which time he had a hand on either tit, rough with how he groped and tugged.
“See now? Wisnae so hard to follow a Sergeant's orders was it?”
“No” you mumbled, crying out when he gripped your nipples through your shirt and twisted. “No Sergeant!”
He let go then, closing the lid of the laptop and standing with it to leave.
“Got an LT having trouble with his phone, he's naw as friendly as me though so best limit the back chat soldier.”
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little
Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT
Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)
(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)
Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!
That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!
Tactical Action
Words: 1.1k
CWs: mentions of death
“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”
Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.
“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”
“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”
He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 
You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 
He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 
“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”
That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.
Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 
She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 
So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 
You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 
The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 
Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 
“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.
You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 
“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”
Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 
“When was the last time you fed her?”
“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”
“Did you burp her?”
“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”
While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 
“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 
“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 
Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.
“Marry me then.”
“Sir?”
“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”
“Yes sir.”
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
Text
Sacrosanct
Summary: Following on from the events of Savage, Simon steals you back.
Words: 3.5k
CW: Smut, Non-con
Please go back and read the blurb from Savage. The same rules apply here, this is a rape fantasy. If that is not your thing do not read it.
It had been a month since you had been taken over the border and you were still sore in places. MacTavish… Johnny. Johnny had been gentle with you as soon as you crossed into his homeland. It was like he was a different person, the Savage gone and replaced by some romantic hero. 
He had bedded you again, but it was with none of the primal brutality he had taken you with that first night. No, he remained true to his word and treated you like a princess. You were fucked slowly and tenderly into furs and downy pillows. He lapped sweetly between your legs while one of his men smiled and fed you bites of food. You recognised him as one from that night, the one whose hand print was almost fully faded from your thigh, but like Johnny his men too were different now. 
It was like you had fallen into a dream. Sometimes you thought perhaps you had crossed into the fae realm, that this was some form of magic. They dressed you in soft but simple fabric in the MacTavish clan colours and it took your breath away any time you thought on it. He was marking you as his, but not how you had expected. This was not how you would mark a conquest or a slave, this was how you would mark family, how you would mark wife.
It was dizzying, his kindness. He bathed you and massaged at your sore muscles. He laughed fondly when you smiled at the puppy he brought into your room. He whispered to you in the middle of the night about names for babies with his finger tracing patterns on your belly. 
You began to think of him as a different man entirely to the one from that night. There was the Savage and then there was just Johnny. And that was terrifying in its own way, because how could you ever know if the former would come back? 
But still, some part of you started to slip into contentment. The horror of what had happened was smothered with sweetness and gentility until it faded away. You didn't think about escaping as you had the first week. There was never any attempt of course, you were not stupid enough to think you could manage it, but you had often daydreamed about it.
It must have been some sort of divine wrath for your sins that it was only when you had settled into some form of comfortable that someone far scarier than the Savage came for you in the dead of night while Johnny was away. 
You woke to a weight on top of you, at first thinking it must be Johnny straddling you in the bed. But when you opened your eyes there was a bright white skull glaring down at you in the gloom. You wanted to scream, but you were scared stiff and even if you had been able to produce a sound his gloved hand had roughly settled over your mouth.
“Hello sweetheart, don't you look cosy in MacTavish's bed.”
Your eyes widened. English, he was English. And while the words were non-threatening, his tone was violent. You felt like your blood had turned to ice under this creature. He snarled at you and got into your face, eyes wild and angry.
“You scream and I'll rip you open, understand?”
You could only nod through the tears and then remain quiet when his hand left your mouth. Even without the warning you didn’t think you would have been able to scream through the fear. You knew with a horrible certainty that this man really would tear you apart if you crossed him. 
“Go back to sleep bitch.”
You didn't even see the pommel of his danger coming as he clocked you in the temple and you blacked out. 
Your head felt fuzzy when you came to, like your brain was waterlogged. It took a full minute before you properly got consciousness back, enough that you could feel that your wrists were bound around something above you making your shoulders ache. Someone had dressed you in a fine gown, the kind you would have expected to be wearing after your marriage to gatherings of nobility. There was a dim sort of throb somewhere in your lower half that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
You blinked in the dim light of the chamber you were in. A bedchamber. A regal one. There was a fireplace glowing with embers that was providing some light to see the furnishings. You hazily looked up to figure out where your arms were bound to find they were tired around the poster of a large, plush bed. Even the floor was soft beneath you, an ornate rug cushioning you.
It was all quite beautiful, like something out of your silly girl hood dreams. You tried to calm your heart, perhaps the rough treatment by the man with the skull mask was not indicative of whatever treatment you would face here. After all he had been English, had maybe taken you back across the border. Home you reminded yourself, even if something in you ached to think it. Even if some pathetic little part of you had started to think of Johnny as home even after what he did to you.
You caught movement from the corner of your eye and startled. The skull masked man was sitting in the corner, watching you. It knocked any coherent thought from your mind when he took off the mask and you came face to face with your fiance. He looked far more severe in real life than in his portrait. The artist had lessened the two large scars on his face, had made his eyes softer. When he stood it was staggering how large he was, already incredibly tall but from on the floor seeming monstrous. You quickly put your eyes to the floor, bowing your head with as much respect as you could.
“Lord Riley. I-” you said, trying to think of anything to explain the past month to him and coming up short when he crossed the room and drew his sword, putting the flat of the blade under your chin to force your head to tilt up. 
“Did you know that the man you let fuck you flew the lion rampant when he was last slaughtering my men? A symbol of my country and he thinks to steal it.”
You could not move, could barely breathe without the sharp tip of the sword cutting your throat. You thought you might wind up drooling to avoid swallowing, knowing that it would almost certainly draw blood. You could only look at him as he spoke and looked down at you in disgust.
“Lionesses will try and protect their unborn cubs by letting themselves be mounted by any male in the vicinity to confuse paternity. Reckon if I let you loose you'd go through my soldiers like you went through those Scottish bastards wouldn't you? Let them all spill inside you.”
The tears were spilling down your cheeks as humiliation burned through you. He was wrong, Johnny's men hadn't spilled inside you, but the reality of what had happened seemed worse. They had spilled between your legs to make it more pleasant when their leader took you in the dirt. You wanted to defend yourself, to appeal to him, but he pressed the blade forward and your head met the bed with nowhere to go. The sting was horrible as you felt a trickle of blood run down the column of your throat.
“I'll not have a Scottish bastard running around my halls. My seed is more potent than his could ever hope to be, I'm going to flood his filthy cum out of you.”
You tried to bite out a plea when he moved the blade a hair back, enough that you could at least attempt to explain yourself if you spoke as softly as you could trying not to let your throat move. 
“Please I didn’t- he- I tried to fight,” you said, fighting the sob that would cause more damage to your neck.
He smiled. He smiled and it was the smile of something terrifying, something that had caught you in its snare. 
“You thanked him. He took what was mine and you thanked him for it, isn’t that right sweetheart?”
You felt a flood of fear. Johnny must have released at least one of the English soldiers who had seen what had been done to you. Had seen you drooling and throwing yourself back on to the enemies cock and crying thank yous to him. And had reported every single second of it back to the man above you, your intended husband. You had been caught fully in a lie, because you hadn’t fought, not really. Fear had you out of your mind at the time. It was half way to making you feel out of your mind now. He laughed darkly.
“Is that the expression you wore for him?”
You did sob then and it set off a chain reaction of the sharp of the blade nicking you which caused you to sob harder which did the same again. He looked fascinated with the blood dribbling down your skin, but his reactions were fast. When you got too overwhelmed and tried to look away, a movement that would have wound up slitting your own throat, he threw the blade to the side. The clatter of the metal made you flinch. 
One if his hands was on you then, grabbing your upper arm in a bruising grip to drag you to your feet, the twist of your spine from your hands being bound to the bedpost painful. Once you were on your feet he moved the hand to your hair, pushing until you were hugging the post, face crushed against it in a way you were sure would leave indents of the intricate pattern on the woodwork. 
His other hand went to bunching up your skirts, the coolness on bare skin making you realise with a sickening clarity that you had been put in a dress but with no undergarments. 
“Fucking hell, not only Scottish animals you get wet for is it?” he hissed, as you felt his gloved fingers swipe through your folds.
He brought his hand around then to skirt up your throat and then shoved the gloves fingers in your mouth, leather and blood and arousal swirling in your tongue and making you choke with how aggressively they made a home between your teeth. You felt like an animal having their mouth examined with how he bullied his fingers around inside, seemingly trying to make sure you could taste yourself. He ripped them out and grabbed your face between his thumb and pointer finger, twisted it around to look at him behind you.
“Go ahead, kiss your fiancé like you'd kiss that fucking Savage you've been bedding.”
Oh he scared you well and truly now with how he looked at you. There was the glimmer of a Sacrosanct madness about him, the holy surety that he would claim you body and soul from John MacTavish. You trembled before this force of divine fury, trying to quell it by pushing yourself to kiss him. 
For a moment in time he was the fiancé you had dreamt of. He let you press your lips to his and slowly lapped his tongue at your bottom lip for entrance, languid in his exploration once you permitted it. It struck you straight to your core when you realised he was licking the inside of your mouth to taste what he had forced there with his fingers, the clench of your cunt at the thought a humiliation. When his mouth left yours it was messy, saliva left on your swollen lips. He wrapped his hand around your throat, spreading the blood and seeming fascinated by it before he took the now blood smeared hand and slapped you so hard your ears were ringing. You would have crumpled to the floor if he did not have a leg planted between yours to keep your forced upright. 
“My Lord please, I-I-” you stuttered, not able to find any fight amongst the freeze when he manhandled you back around to be clinging to the bedpost, grabbing your hips and wrenching them back so you were bent over with him behind you. 
“You'll get your proper treatment as my Lady after sweetheart, right now you need to learn your fucking place.” 
Your skirts were fully flipped over your back, a rough palm keeping you bend fully at the waist so the fabric could drape and leave you exposed to him. You hated knowing he could see you were leaking between your legs, your body at odds with your mind. It was a sickly sweet sort of humiliating. You choked a shocked sob when with no ceremony his cock was out and shoved inside you. 
“Too full, t-too fast. Please- unf- please take it out!” you screamed, feeling like he was in your stomach. 
He only tsked, unmoved entirely by how you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shift away, not able to with his hands holding you still. 
“Don't know what I expected, of course your traitor little cunt wouldn't be tight enough anymore. What was it he said? If you didn't keep your eyes open…”
You were confused about what he meant until he brutally ripped out of you and the hard head of him was rubbing at your arse, catching on the puckered hole. 
“Please please no I'll tear! My Lord, Lord Riley please I didn't mean it” you babbled, trying to claw into the bedpost to pull away but only being rewarded with such a sharp smack to your arse that you knew his handprint would be there for days.
“Y-you can't!” you screeched as he started to push inside you.
The press of him against your hole, the pop as his head finally pushed through the tight ring of muscle, it made your body try to fight against a danger it didn't know what to do with. You couldn't breathe, as if you were underwater and your brain would not allow you to gulp in a breath because it knew it would be lethal. 
You could barely choke in any oxygen at all as he started moving your hips back and forward on him, rocking his hot, hard cock more and more into your arse each time. He would break you surely, he would rip you in half. You could only make choked noises as you were stuffed more and more full. He smacked your arse again at that.
“Quit your bitching whore or next time I won't even do you the courtesy of having my men prep you. Find your fucking manners, say thank you” he said, an arrogant dominance rolling off if him in waves as he gave one particularly cruel thrust that had you crying out a thank you to please him.
“Manners my Lady” he snarled, punctuating his point with another spank that landed directly where you were already tender.
“T-thank you my Lord.”
“There she is, was that so difficult?” he asked with a horrid sweetness, thrusting hard into you again. “Lost all of your grace with that animal, don't worry, I'll fuck it back into you.”
The next thrust he bottomed out with a groan, holding still for a few breaths. It gave you time to try and adjust but it was an impossible task. He was too big, you were too tight, the stretch was too impossible. You were vaguely thankful that the ache you had felt waking up must have been because someone had already been playing with your arse. There was some slide, it wasn't so dry that you were being torn apart but it felt like a close thing. He leaned over you, his huge torso draped over yours. You could feel his sweaty face plastered to yours, the heat of his breath. He only said one word before he straightened back up, an innocent little word. But it terrified you none the less.
“Breathe.”
It was the only warning you got before he pulled out and slammed fully back into you. You felt far more brutalised as he drilled into you slow but incredibly hard in this plush room with the warm glowing embers of a fire and in a beautiful gown than you had being fucked in the dirt in the cold darkness in only your torn chemise.
His pace was torture, not fast enough to keep the pain a consistent thing you could anticipate, not slow enough to allow your insides to adjust to his impossible size. Your brain went fuzzy with every hard and deep piston of his hips. That one word was something you clung to like a prayer. Breathe. He pulled out to the tip. Breathe. He slammed back in all the way to the root. Breathe. He held there and your muscles fluttered around him, seemingly confused as to whether this was an intrusion or welcomed now that his own slick and whatever they had prepared you with while you were knocked out was mixed and making the slide smoother, making each rough thrust squelch loudly. Breathe. The drag of him slowly pulling back out made your cunt clench so hard it was nauseating. Breathe. 
You could never quite fully catch your breath, always just on the edge of feeling like you were suffocating. You suddenly wished he would at least talk to you. Johnny was never able to stop, always saying something filthy in your ear so you could at least focus on that and not hear your own desperate panting, the sticky snap of sweaty skin on sweaty skin. It was painful, a pain that dangled pleasure in front of you, always just out of reach. You were chasing it, pushing back in the hopes that the heavy weight of him would bump against your clit. It only ever served to add the sharp smack of hand on flesh to the noises. 
He did not provide any warning before he sped up, suddenly rutting into you with none of the control he had kept until now. You forgot that word, forgot everything in favour of biting down on the wood of the bedpost to stop from screaming your throat raw. 
And then you saw stars as his throbbing cock was pulled out of your arse and in your cunt finally instead, deep. He pushed your hips until you were standing straight, his cock spearing up into you deeper than you thought possible. He brought a hand round to play roughly with your clit.
“Milk me.”
There was no room for refusal as you came, bearing down on him hard. The scalding heat of his seed spilling into you felt like some twisted form of divine justice for what you had done, how you had begun to feel about the Savage. There was so much of it, a biblical flood to wipe away the stain he saw left in you. His chest was plastered to your back, his hot breath puffing over the side of your hair. 
“Good girl. Knew a proper English lady was still in there didn't I? Just had to exorcise the whore MacTavish put inside you.”
Your head was so fuzzy. Your body throbbed with pain and the flush of a devastating orgasm. You whimpered pathetically when he eventually pulled out, fingering the leaking cum gently back into your oversensitive pussy. 
“I'll get a plug for you, you'd like that hm? Keep my seed nice and safe inside your little cunt.”
You drifted then, drifted to somewhere else. You didn't know that you nodded, that you were pliant and soft for him as he undressed you fully and took you to a bath. It was all like there was a pleasantly weighted fog over your senses as he fed you, rubbed oils into you, dressed you for bed and climbed in behind you like a lover. Like Johnny.
-
“Sir, we've tried. It's like she wisnae ever here tae begin with. Nae trace of whoever took her. Whoever it is, they're a ghost.”
Johnny barked out a bitter, manic sort of laugh. 
“A ghost aye? Fucking Riley.”
“Garrick and Price were spotted naw far frae the border just this morn, if it was him that took her then he's naw far.”
“Cannae imagine so, why take himself a pretty prize unless he intends tae dangle it in front of me.”
“Orders sir?”
“Get me information. Going tae take her back obviously. Fuck the Scottish back in tae her if she's lost her way.”
And this time he'd made sure it fucking stuck even if he had to carve his fucking name into your skin to prove who you belonged to. 
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
Note
Hello there I have another questionable idea 😁
So 141 confusing reader home for a safe house and breaking in and the sleep deprived nurse reader is just like 😐 and patches them up cos they are hurt and that’s the start of an very interesting relationship
Thank you for everything you are doing and remember that you are amazing
Drink water not coffee
🎃anon
Pumpkin! Ohh so this is similar vibes to this which I never wrote because sometimes I love a concept but am rubbish with execution :')
I have, however, tried my best to give you a little bit of your ask <3
Hippocratic Oath
Words: 550
Nah, for real if someone was breaking in you didn't care but they could at least be fucking quiet about it so you could go back to sleep. You had not slept in an actual bed in fucking days, only catching what could barely be described as a nap in the cots at the hospital between emergencies. 
“Find a first aid kit, we need to get him stable!”
Oh come on. The people robbing you were injured? Stupid fucking hippocratic oath. Technically it said nothing about having to help people who had broken into your house, it just said you couldn't harm them. So if you laid here and ignored it then Apollo couldn't say shit. 
…God fucking damnit. You dragged yourself out of bed, honestly too tired to react to the gun pointed at you with anything but a withering look, and went to pull the first aid supplies from their place. 
“Who the fuck are you?”
“This is my house skull mask, who the fuck are you?”
There was a man with a mohawk bleeding all over your couch. You grumbled about that a little but dutifully knelt by him and started to cut the clothes around the problem area so you could clean it out and stitch him up. A heavy tactical vest was on the floor, leaving him in just a t-shirt. The other young man was pushing a wad of bandages to stem the bleeding. Good, he was doing a good job. 
Kyle looked at Price who only furrowed his eyebrows and nodded, giving him permission to follow your instructions. So that's what he did. 
“We get a bonnie medic with safehouses these days Captain? Cannae say I'm complaining.”
“Shush or you'll wind up biting your tongue off when I do the stitches” you said, prepping the needle and thread. 
You looked quickly around his get up, seeing he was wearing jeans with a belt and undoing it. 
“I've definitely seen a movie like this” the skull mask man said which you elected to ignore.
“Tell me more LT.”
You shoved the belt in the man's mouth and he took it between his teeth immediately. Not his first rodeo then. Made sense, they were probably soldiers. He was a model patient as you stitched him up, not squirming at all. 
Your focus overrode your exhaustion for long enough to give each of the others a once over, making sure there wasn't anything else serious you needed to treat. By the time you got to the last man, the one your patient had called Captain, you were completely dead on your feet and your eyes were starting to sting. 
“Thanks luv, c'mere.”
Being scooped up by some military man who had broken into your house really should have caused some sort of fight or flight response, but you had nothing else left to give. You were asleep before he even made it to the bedroom, putting you right back under the blankets. 
Your alarm never went off and you frantically called in to work to let them know you'd be there as soon as possible only to be told in no uncertain terms you were on leave for at least the next week. 
It was with some shock that you emerged from your room to find that dream wasn't as much of a dream as you thought.
“Let's have a little chat about the next week hm luv?”
Ah fuck.
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
Note
Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their. . .biology :Dd Or them trying to bring progressively bigger fish trying to woo and then Ghost ends up bringing you a fucking orca or some shit,
...I had to look up the reproductive cycle of several marine animals for this I hope you are happy.
Deductive Reasoning
Words: 1.3k
CW: ...light fish porn (?)
It was just fascinating. It would have been dreadfully difficult to not talk about this every chance you got and thus break your NDA if not for the fact that you never left this secure little island base. You were permitted to, but why would you want to? You were speaking with living, breathing mermen almost everyday.
4 of them, although they had alluded to their being more out there. These 4 were a... well that was the question wasn't it? Only one shark did not make a shiver, only one seal did not make a herd, only one walrus did not make a rookery and only one mandarinfish did not make a shoal. Was there a collective term for mermen? You were told you were now the leading researcher in the world for this new species, so perhaps that meant you got to decide.
Or maybe you'd just ask. They spoke to you sometimes, or at least made noises. They seemed to understand each other at least which was intriguing on its own.
It had been Soap you had met first. You had been basically abducted and hurried to this island facility where they had captured a real life merman. You were enamoured immediately by the furious thing in the tank. Half seal, harbour seal you thought. Top half looked all but human (skin must be different to allow for underwater living and ah, yes, you could see gills), hair in a mohawk (which suggested someone had cut it to look like that, who? Was it a ritual? Did they have community? Was it an emulation of human culture? Perhaps some mating strategy?), eyes somewhere between human and seal (his physicality was a similar story, he was built strong and thick, a healthy layer of fat over hard muscle).
You perhaps felt a little bashful looking back. You had been so wildly excited, asking a thousand questions and going into chaotic science mode that it took you a whole 16 hours of straight observations and notes to realise there was a creature of higher intelligence being held captive in a tank. You did, of course, apologise profusely. He clearly did not understand what you were saying, but the emotion was human enough. Bemusement.
Soap had come about because he was slippery. Well, actually he wasn't, but the story was that he was slippery. Because if the military knew you had actually been helping him escape you were probably going to get disappeared. It was lucky the facility at that time wasn't as high security, you had gotten away with it.
You had met Gaz right there on the coast when Soap went slicing through the water. You thought looking back that Price and Ghost had probably been there, just out of sight. They had come for him. Gaz was a magnificent thing. His tail was the same pattern as a madarinfish, bright orange with gorgeous blue markings. You had shown him a tin of irn-bru once with a grin and learned then that Soap could laugh. He had come right up to you and after some form of exchange with Soap had been playful, showing off his tail and holding his hand out to you. You had been existing on caffeine and noodles so hardly your fault you took it, getting dragged into the water.
Oh how thrilling an education you received in the courting practices of Dragonets! He had made quite a show of displaying his fins, including a gorgeous dorsal fin on his human looking spine. You knew you simply must see them again if only to study why Gaz's eyes were more human while Soap's leant towards seal like. He was certainly the most expressive of them. His name had only come about because you had tried every other one and he made his disdain for them very clear. By the time the merman had been rubbing what you would call his ventral fins against you, Soap had grabbed you and soundly deposited you back on shore. Just in time too for the soldiers to find you because the doctor later told you that you were in the early stages of hypothermia. Totally worth it actually.
You talked the powers that be into allowing your pet projects to free roam, after all they kept coming back to see you. Over the course of a year the facility was upgraded and a channel added from the sea to an indoor pool that would allow for better study. Soap and Gaz didn't run on a schedule exactly, but they seemed content to swim in every so often and let you poke and prod. Fascinating that they should both be half human but their other half was so entirely different. Soap was half mammal, retractable penis something he was very proud to show off anytime he was in the observation pool. Gaz was half dragonet, and while you tried to put a clutch of eggs in the pool to see if he could fertilise them he had only raised an eyebrow at you and tried once again to pull you in. Tough luck, you had learned your lesson about going into the water with them when you had met Ghost.
It had been the middle of the night when he swam into the pool. Silent, you hadn't heard him (that's where that name had come from in the end). So unsuspecting were you that you were too near the edge and his hand had snaked around your ankle, one sharp pull dragging you in after you fell to the ground (hardly avoiding a broken nose). It wasn't only his tail that was shark, he had a sharp set of teeth that he sank into the meat of your shoulder without much ceremony. His claspers had been strong as hell holding you there, the only thing likely saving you his frustration at your clothes. He must not have understood the concept very well because he released you and dove, pawing at your trousers to try and figure them out. It was an endless source of fascination for him anytime he visited after. He would lean his arms on the pool edge and just stare at your legs, tracing the outline of your body with his sharp eyes. It only seemed fair to let him look since you spent an inordinate amount of time staring at him. He was sleek and muscular, every inch an apex predator in his prime.
It was a contrast to who you would say was the leader of their group. The merman who had saved you from Ghost that first time you met him, who had ripped him away from you when his teeth had sunk into the meat of your thigh through your trousers. Price had hauled you out of the water with ease. He was part Walrus, huge and soft with a layer of blubber similar to Soap's that hid considerable strength. Of all of them his animal half was most pronounced, his canines elongated into tusks and his hair thick and whisker-like around them.
As a scientist you could not possibly play favourites. Price was absolutely your favourite. He would be still and patient with you when you were working with him. He would gently run his fingers over whatever parts of you were in reach. When you babbled excitedly he seemed to listen as best he could.
If you had taken more than a moment to really look into it, you might have realised you were not the only creature conducting research. If you had used some deductive reasoning, you probably could have anticipated that fateful day you were dragged into the sea, never to be seen by the human military again.
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auspicioustidings · 7 months
Text
Firewatch
Summary: You are unconscious on the floor of the fire watch tower while the fire fighters decide what exactly to do with you. (Also this is a series, links are in my pinned posts to the other parts :) )
Work Count: 1.3k
CWs: It's a little (a lot) kidnap-ey
Firewatch - Firefighter AU
"Wit if we didnae dae that though?"
Price looked at the unconscious body on the floor. Soap had carried you all the way up without a word, all of them ignoring that the Scottish man had just abducted you. Scratched and bruised but miraculously not one burn on you despite the blaze that had just destroyed your little cottage and tried to tear through the forest after. 
It was a small miracle that the weather had turned, the downpour helping them to stop the flames from spreading further into the forest, their forest. His team of firefighters lived and worked here, their cabin a short hike away from the Firewatch tower. They all had their own reasons for living off grid, choosing this life. They had each other, but he couldn't deny that there had been something pleasant about watching you move into the crumbling cottage just on the edge of the forest.
You had done most of the renovation work yourself, they knew that because it had become a hobby to watch you from the tower. If it bordered on obsession sometimes, well he let that slide, had said nothing when from the tower he had watched Simon go into your cottage (didn't even have to break in, you didn't lock it, drove them wild when they realised). Neither Mactavish nor Garrick had asked where the blanket had come from when Simon returned with it that night. They already knew. He remembered it smelled of bergamot in the beginning. 
"You're suggesting we let the authorities pronounce her dead?" Price asked, although if he was being honest it barely sounded like a question, more like a statement.
"She should be dead doing the bloody electrical work herself. We supposed to just leave her to her own devices? She needs looking after."
Simon did believe that it wouldn't be a bad thing to keep you. They could look after you, give you a good life here. You'd already been testing his self-control and he knew it wasn't just him. He may have been the only one to have entered your cottage, although it should be noted that despite the raging temptation to touch you he had only taken the blanket from your sleeping body, replacing it with a thicker one. But he was not the only one who had been desperately trying to look after you despite your seeming insistence to be as reckless as possible. 
Gaz had taken a sledgehammer to the rickety ladder you were using while you were out, making sure it wasn't usable anymore so nobody had to watch you fall to your damn death. Price had to hold the man back when you had bought a new one. Safer than what you had been using, but wouldn't it be better to let them take that risk? Wouldn't it be nice to sit back and relax while Gaz patched up the roof for you?
Johnny had been near feral when you had taken to strolling through the forest, coming to within a metre of one of their traps. He had barked down the radio to the cabin in a panic from his spot on the watch tower and it had taken hours of Simon sitting with him on watch to calm him down. Johnny went out that night and picked up every trap they had laid, refusing to let anyone put anymore out until he had marked a walking trail for you to follow and then watched for weeks to be certain you had picked up on it and wouldn't stray. 
"He's not wrong. What happens when that git who delivers her mail decides he wants to cosy up? Look at her, she's practically begging to get taken advantage of. It's not safe out there for her" Gaz added. He never would have considered kidnapping you as such, but it made perfect sense to him that they don't tell the authorities that they had rescued you from the fire. This wasn't kidnapping, more divine intervention. 
They all did look at you then, unconscious on the floor in your paint splattered dungarees, breathing easily in and out. You had been choking from the smoke when Simon had hauled you over his shoulder and gotten you outside, Gaz getting an oxygen mask on you while Johnny and Price tried to contain the fire. The way you had looked up at Simon when you realised you were alive, that he had saved you. God you had been so beautiful to him, some mixture of adoration and confusion in your eyes, a hint of fear from him being in full gear and face mask.
He gently cradled your head when you tried to look over at what Gaz was doing, not letting you see him prepare the sedative. You didn't even notice the sting of the needle, probably in shock. Gaz told himself that it was so you could rest, so they didn't need to worry about you going into a panic. Of course it wasn't nefarious to sedate you, how could it be when you looked so peaceful as you slept? If he had done something wrong Simon would have stopped him, Johnny wouldn't have scooped you up and carried you all the way home, Price wouldn't have your cat rubbing against his legs after having carried the little thing here so you wouldn't worry about her when you woke up.
Price sighed, leaning down to give the cat a few scratches behind the ear. They would need to get some things from town to make you comfortable, but for the moment you'd have to stay in the tower away from prying eyes. The sheriff would be paying their cabin a visit to go over the incident report. They'd need to figure out some of the details, mess with the timelines a little to make it feasible that the fire would have left nothing behind of you.  It shouldn't be too difficult, the community trusted them and you were an outsider who had breezed into town one day. Nobody would be demanding DNA testing to confirm.
"If we are doing this, we are going to do it proper. I hear any complaints from her and you can't justify that whatever she's mad about wasn't for her own good then I put you on 24 hour fire watch for a fortnight, understood?"
They all nodded, Johnny and Gaz not able to keep from grinning. The former was bouncing on his heels, excited out of his mind that they were keeping you. Price sighed again when he looked to Simon for some sort of support and the man just laughed.
"Kyle stay with her. Make sure she stays put when she wakes up, keep her happy. Lie when you have to keep her calm. You two are with me, we need to get back home and talk to the sheriff when she comes calling."
"Whit?! How's that fair? Let me stay instead!"
"Kyle is staying because he won't bloody pounce on her the minute she's awake."
Johnny had bitched about it the whole way back to the cabin, talking to the cat in his arms when Simon and Price stopped paying him any mind. They'd need to justify why they would be buying cat supplies and the sheriff was nothing if not appreciative of them when they explained they had found the poor thing out in the trees and would adopt it now that it's owner was gone.
It all went more smoothly than they could have dared dream. The real difficulty was dealing with Johnny's endless complaining when they returned to the watch tower to find that the expectation of Gaz not pouncing on you the moment you were awake had been an unrealistic one.
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auspicioustidings · 6 months
Text
Kiss in Payment
Summary: Continuation of Services/Goods of Equivalent Value. You have opened a teashop near an off record military base and this is a bunch of snippets of your life there.
Words: 7.5k (HOW?!)
You hadn't slept in a real bed in so long and you were not prepared to get out of it. It smelled good and it was warm and you were tired right down to your bones from all the work of the past 6 months finally culminating in the busiest and happiest evening you had possibly ever had. Only half awake you nuzzled into the pillow with a happy little sigh of contented comfort.
"Feels better than sleeping in a chair doesn't it?"
At first you smiled sleepily and made a sound of agreement. And then your brain caught up and you shot up, eyes opening and darting around madly to find you were in a small, simple bedroom and Simon was sat in the chair in the corner, book in hand being dogeared and set on a little table now that you were awake.
You had seen most of his face before when he was drinking or eating so seeing the whole thing wasn't any more of a shock than the situation you had found yourself in. It was a little strange seeing the skin around his eyes cleaned and bright, no smudges of black. He looked softer like this you thought.
"I um, I don't um… ah ha I must have fallen asleep in the chair right? Must have just been so tired! You didn't have to move me, but thanks, it wouldn't have been good for me to sleep there right? Ha ha."
God you were adorable when you tried to lie. Heart was far too prominent on your sleeve for it to ever work. You were clearly flustered way more from trying to lie than from waking up in his bed and such a fondness settled in him knowing that you trusted him so easily. You trusted that he had carried you here to help, that he would never have done anything to hurt you. 
"Gaz would have carried you to your bed, but come to think of it there doesn't seem like any sort of bedroom in your shop."
Was he teasing to watch you scramble to try and explain yourself? Maybe a little, sue him.
"Oh right! It's in… the basement, it's in the basement."
You had a nanosecond of being relieved you had thought up a lie so quickly before being horrified at what a bad lie it was. What if they wanted to go into the non-existent basement now? But you had gotten away with it for now and you relaxed as Simon just nodded with an "Ah, of course, the basement". 
Maybe you were good at this whole lying thing!
When it was time to get up and get a ride back home to the shop Simon got the little tub of eye black to smear on. You took it from him and started dabbing it on with your fingers for him since he had let you sleep in his bed. 
"It's like finger painting" you grinned, sitting back to admire your work.
He took your hand in his before you could fully withdraw it, pressing a kiss to your knuckles that had the tips of your ears on fire. You gave him a wide eyed stare in question.
"Services/goods of equivalent value remember? This one was worth at least a few days of moving furniture."
You smiled shyly, thinking he meant applying the eye black for him. Simon let you think that, knowing himself that the payment he was taking was being able to press his lips to your skin.
-
You felt your lie was under attack when, after being driven back to your shop by Price with Soap in tow, they started talking about your basement as they helped you with all the dishes from the night before.
"Didn't you help with a lot of the building Soap? Going to have to give you extra observation training, missing a whole basement."
"Och Captain dinnae, ye know that training is the worst! I'll do better next time, ye'r spot on that it's unacceptable for me to miss something like that."
Oh the way you went dead silent while you scrubbed at a plate, clearly being eaten alive by guilt. It was cute up until you genuinely seemed in distress, and although it was fun to tease Johnny was thankful when Price laid off.
"Ah I'm only taking the piss Sergeant, easy thing to miss in an old place like this."
Some of the tension bled from your shoulders and oh if Soap didn't suddenly remember the little shy kiss you pressed to his cheek the night before. Such a sweet thing, genuinely getting upset at the idea he might have to do training because of a lie you told to protect yourself. As if him and Gaz didn't lie all the time to try and get one another in trouble just for the hell of it.
"Opening is in an hour aye? Think we could get a wee out of hours tea?" Soap asked.
You dried off your hands, smiling brightly now. Making tea always made you forget all your worries and you were wildly delighted that confessed coffee person Soap was the one asking. You went straight to work, grabbing and typing off your apron and throwing your hair up. 
Price and Soap shared a conspiring look as they watched you work. They had gotten good at speaking without words. Right now their look was saying "isn't she just the loveliest thing you ever saw? I think I might scream if she does one more cute thing."
With the tea steeping you sighed in contentment, jumping a little when Price's hand found the small of your back. You hadn't even realised he was so close, for such a big man he was so light on his feet! He tapped a finger to his cheek.
"Think helping wash one load of dishes works as equivalent value."
You popped onto your tip toes and planted a soft peck to his cheek and as Soap bounded forward for the same Price shoved him away with a grin.
"Got payment in advance last night if I recall Soap, can't have our favourite girl overpaying."
-
Price and Soap left just as you officially opened for the day, but to your soft delight already Horangi and Farah were waiting outside for the sign to be flipped. They were bundled up, must have walked over. Now that you knew the distance from here to the base it made you swell with pride to know they had made the trip on foot. 
"Two of ye are here awful early naw?"
"Is there a problem with that MacTavish?" Horangi asked with a smirk, suspecting that the problem was Soap was about to leave you alone with him and Farah.
He had thought it would only be him, everyone else using their morning to work out and get fed. Obviously Farah had the same idea though, both of them feeling a sense of challenge from the other. He was sure you would like learning to make his Korean sweets over her Urzik ones. 
"Course naw, always happy tae see paying customers for my girl here" he responded, clearly proud of himself for managing to find a subtle way to tell Horangi and Farah to back off because you were his.
Farah raised an eyebrow at Price when he smirked at Soap's little claim and his lip twitched slightly. The exchange was barely noticeable and yet the unspoken conversation had went something like this:
"Really John? She's a little young for you is she not?"
"Really Farah, what would Alex say?"
"Me and Alex have always been very good at sharing, ask Gaz."
"Don't remember you being this much of a brat Karim."
Farah thought it was a shame you had been subject to all these boorish men for so long. Soft, sweet thing like you deserved some soft and sweet companionship. She had hoped that she could get to know you while teaching you how to make the halva she had fed you bites of last night any time you had paused in your hectic running about to pour her tea.
You had been very complimentary of the simple sweet, wanting to know all about the cultural history of it. Farah was no stranger to the uncomfortable looks she got when she would pour her heart out about her passion for her home country. She had half expected you to nod politely and excuse yourself. Only you hadn't, you had been genuinely and unabashedly happy at how passionate she was about her home, eyes sparkling with interest as you made her promise that she'd visit again and tell you more.
Of course Hong-jin would be equally as fond of you, she had spied how he had made you try a bite of bukkumi and how he had cried laughing when it was chewier than you expected and you had bitten your tongue. That giant beside him had acted as if you were mortally wounded until you had calmed him down and Farah was observant if nothing else, she had seen how your easy way with the larger man had Hong-jin simmering with fondness. 
Price and Soap realised they couldn't very well stay without it being obvious they were only doing so to stop Farah and Horangi from being left to work their charms on you, so with a grumble they departed.
You were honestly a little nervous about your first real customers after opening day, but you thought you did a great job of hiding it and welcoming them inside.
Farah and Horangi could both tell you were nervous, it was glaringly obvious, so an unspoken pact was made that they would only compete with each other in ways that you wouldn't notice so wouldn't make you anxious.
An hour later and you were so delighted that they had been kind enough and patient enough to teach you how to make the sweets they had bought the night before, oblivious to the amount of sabotage and subterfuge in the silent war between your two customers. 
Still they did eventually have to admit defeat, they were due in meetings and couldn't stay forever. You squeaked and shook your head rapidly when they tried to pay for their drinks.
"Oh no please, you were both so wonderful to have shared your recipes with me! Think of this as payment for that."
"I already said I would teach you did I not? Of course I have to pay properly for the tea you made me."
“It would be very rude not to, I can pay for both of our teas.”
“No no, I can pay for both. After all you are technically a guest with the 141 aren't you?”
“As are you.”
“Oh I would say more a long distance member. Actually since this is so near the 141 base and you've been so good to the team, I'd say that makes you basically an honorary member!”
“Oh! That's such an honour for you to say Farah, it's more that the team has been good to me though” you explained in a rush, a pretty flush of colour dusting your cheeks.
“Ah but you also have adopted the little cat with us, so it makes you more a member of Kortac than anything else.”
“I think Herzogin adopted me, she just came in one day and decided to make herself at home and I couldn't say no” you said, now feeling so flustered there must be steam coming out of your ears.
There was something so touching about what they were saying even if it was light hearted and meant more as a joke you thought. Even the thought of somehow being a part of their lives, some little silly civilian branch of their teams, made your hummingbird heart flutter.
It was also very sweet how they both wanted to cover each others bill even though you really could not let them go unrewarded for teaching you their recipes. They must be quite close these two teams. Definitely not two people who had only properly met last night and were now locked in a bitter rivalry over you or anything.
“But regardless I need to repay you somehow for the lessons! Don't make me start pulling out a contract again” you laughed.
When they asked you explained about your hastily written contract with Soap, how it had kept expanding after that. You even showed them the copy as messy as it was.
“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so. 
*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**
**and any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 
***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141
****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed”
It didn't feel much like a contract anymore what with Simon's messy scrawl and the massive pen stroke from when Soap had shoved Rudy as he was trying to add his addendum. But it always made you smile to look at.
You thought your heart might burst when they both very reverently take turns adding their own addendums on.
“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so.******
*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**
**along with any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 
***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141*****
****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed
*****including Farah Karim and Alex Keller who shall be deemed members TF141 for the purposes of this contract.******
*****Any works or services carried out by members of Kortac PMC (inclusive of Herzogin) are to be subject to the same terms of payment as above.”
After that they both paid in full for all the tea meaning you were left blustering about the double payment. And when before they left they pressed a kiss to your cheek, sandwiching you between them for a moment, you were sure you have melted right into the floor.
“That's your debt settled for the recipe” Farah teased as her and Horangi left.
You spent the day warmed by the smattering of visitors. Some drove out, some made the trip on foot, Gaz stopped by in the middle of his run and the sight of him shirtless and sweaty made you scald yourself when you accidentally overpoured and splashed hot tea over your hand.
“Ouch luv, c'mere and let me see” he said, immediately taking your hand delicately in both of his strong ones to do a quick inspection and then leading you over to the sink to run it under cold water.
“It's not that bad” you hissed as the water hit, it was freezing and you were really just trying to get out of having to hold it there for 10 minutes.
“Hush, don't know how deep it's went so need to make sure it cools down properly.”
You didn't feel like you were cooling down with his naked torso right there beside you, one hand still holding yours and the other resting absentmindedly on your waist. All of these customers of yours really would be the death of you.
You huffed a little and stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he was right but not liking it one bit. He laughed at you and gave you a light little headbutt into your hair, the easy affection making you smile despite yourself. You smiling made him smile and it was as always like looking at the sun when this man smiled. So much so you did not even hear the door go until you were crowded by another body, the new arrival slotting against your other side in a mirror of Gaz and sighing.
“What happened here then princess?” 
Gaz narrowed his eyes at Alex albeit playfully at the pet name, feeling his pinky brush again his hand now also settling in on you.
“Ah just clumsy! Not a very good omen to be spilling tea on the second day huh?”
“You know Ghost and Soap once got so drunk they passed out on the sofa and we found them all tangled up the next morning, said they must have moved in their sleep.”
You nearly choked on your own saliva at that, blinking up at Alex who was only grinning back at you.
“There now, we've both spilled tea, so I can take all the bad omens off of you.”
Goddamnit, Kyle always forgot how stupidly handsome and charming Keller was. Even being right in your space shirtless, having been meticulous in his work out this morning to ensure his body would look just right to get you flustered, you weren't even looking at him anymore. Too busy giving a soft smile to the American playboy. Well if you can't beat them…
You jumped when you felt Kyle's breath right at your ear. He had leaned over a little to join the conversation but it meant he was even closer than before and it was suddenly very, very warm. 
“Just to make sure though, Keller here will deny it ever happened but he once kissed a man right in front of his girlfriend! Right scandalous if you ask me. How's that for tea?”
“i-in front of your girlfriend?!” you asked, somewhat in shock that this man who had been nothing but sweet to you was a cheater. 
“As I recall, my girlfriend was the one that put in the request” he laughed, seeing your look of suspicion and softening. “I promise she was happy about it princess, we've always been open to sharing.”
Him and Gaz shared a look then, both obviously noticing that you were probably about to faint from the no doubt tame (scandalous in your head) images the idea of sharing was conjuring. While it was very endearing the way you reacted, the thump thump thumping of your heart almost perceptible, they couldn't find it within themselves to tease you more. Sweet little thing like you deserved better.
“Come on luv, let's get it dried off and wrapped up.”
Kyle lifted your hand away from the cold water and you realised they had completely distracted you from the discomfort. You wondered if it had been on purpose as he took you over to one of the stools and made you sit while Alex fished out the first aid box.
“Oh, how did you know where that was?”
“Military princess, reckon about everyone scoped out the exits, fire extinguisher and first aid kit last night. Laswell had me order some safety signs for express delivery, should arrive today actually.”
“Oh I didn't even think! How much did it cost? I’ll pay you for them straight away.”
Kyle sighed as he wrapped your hand, knowing exactly what was about to happen and not able to think of one reason to stop it. Besides, it's not like he didn't think you and Alex looked cute together and he didn't even bother to hide his grin of disbelief at how outrageous Keller was when he caressed your face.
“Farah said we could get a kiss in payment as long as it was an equivalent value. Would a kiss be OK princess?”
You didn't really remember nodding even though you had, but you were pretty sure you'd remember Alex Keller pressing a heart achingly soft kiss to your lips as long as you lived. You felt like your brain was flowing with syrup when he laughed lightly and fondly after kissing you, like he was happy he got to do it. 
“Medical fees as well luv, yeah?”
And then you were nodding and Kyle Garrick was kissing you while Alex still had one hand on your cheek and everything was a little too hot and overwhelming. 
Thankfully both men were merciful and didn't mention it when you blinked back into consciousness from fainting onto the counter. If Gaz had had to scream into Alex's shoulder because of how adorable he found it, well they didn't mention that either.
You were in trouble now. Kate Laswell was giving you a look that you were sure meant she could read your mind. 
“You're not in trouble, but you need to tell me the truth. Why were you staying at the base last night?”
Of course Laswell knew, she knew everything about everyone. You were the kind of soft she knew it was easy for hard soldiers to love, but if she thought for a second that one of the 141 had taken you to bed last night she was inclined to use them for shooting practice. You had been dead on your feet after opening day, not in any fit state for clandestine meetings.
Plus she felt protective over you, maybe a little possessive. You reminded her fiercely of her wife and she had already called her last night to tell her about you, suggesting they make the time to visit together when work was less hectic for her.
“Oh I-” you paused, desperately hoping you were not going to get anyone into trouble but itching to tell this woman the truth, “they found me asleep in one of the chairs so instead of waking me they let me use one of the beds. It was my fault for falling asleep where I did! They were just being kind.”
“Why didn’t the move you to your own bed?” Kate asked with a long suffering sigh. It would be just like the 141 to jump to the extreme option.
“It's um, they didn't know where it was.”
Kate had scoped out the place last night without crossing a line into snooping, but she had thought the door next to the stove would be a bedroom. The boys would have known that though, Price said Riley and MacTavish had helped a lot with construction and moving furniture. So either she was really going to have to leather them for taking you back to base when your bed was right there, or the room was a storage space.
“And where is that?”
“Hm?”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Oh hang on, I'll get you another cup!”
Kate watched you stumble away with the poor excuse of getting the pot to pour another cup of tea for her. Her teacup was still half full. And she was indeed going to have to skin the 141 alive. How did it take them so long to figure out that you didn’t have a proper place to sleep? The quiet fury she felt at thinking how long you had been curling up on one of the chairs surprised her for only a moment before she let it settle in. Kate Laswell had always been very good at quickly identifying who she considered her people and her knack of it hadn’t let her down yet. 
“How long have you been sleeping here?”
You froze as you were reaching for the teapot. 
“I-i the basement? Since I got the place.”
Kate was well aware there was not a basement, not unless there was a magical hidden hatch to it. Even if she hadn’t been 99% certain, the fact that you were the worst liar she had ever encountered and the look of alarm she saw on Alejandro’s face as he slid through the door gave her assurance she was right. The question at this point was how to gentle you into telling her what was going on and why you didn’t have somewhere to sleep. She wished her wife were here, between the two of them she was more the people person. 
“Try again cariño, there is no basement in this building.”
Your ruse was rapidly falling apart with Alejandro now here as well. You had been so sure you had gotten away with it as well, and you were just stuck to the spot gaping trying to get your brain to come up with some sort of excuse. 
“Well um, I know I said basement but I- the thing is maybe it’s just a plan to have a basement. Right. That’s what I meant, that I’m going to put in a basement and have a bed there. Yeah. And that means that right now I don’t have one. A basement I mean, or uh, yeah a bed. But it’s totally fine, that chair by the fire is super comfortable and it’s not that bad for my back and Herzogin likes being able to curl in my lap anyway and actually I really like it because the blanket would be a little too small if I was all stretched out anyway and-”
Alejandro had known you long enough to see when your brain was absolutely catching fire. It was one of the things he loved because he knew he was always able to calm you down and it made him feel overwhelmingly content whenever he did. Right now though he at least wished your brain was catching fire over something small like offering him a new type of tea or short circuiting when Rudy had poured water over himself to cool down in the summer (Ale had nearly throttled him, little shit had known what he was doing) and not over something that made him want to smuggle you home to Mexico and make sure you never wanted for anything ever again. 
He could put aside his own feelings right now though, walking over and enveloping you in a warm hug, squeezing just the right amount to make your words trail off and your brain slow down now that it felt safe and comfortable. You clung to him almost instantly, burying your head in his chest and fighting tears. You were so embarrassed to be caught, it made you feel like you couldn’t look after yourself at all.
It wasn’t that you had meant for it to all work out this way, but you were chasing a dream and you sort of came second to that. Last night you had finally made it and it had been better than you ever dared hope, it had been beyond perfect. You hadn’t even thought to include your own comfort in that dream of yours, and now when you really thought about how you had been living it all caught up and made you feel awful and exhausted. 
“There come on now, it’s ok” Alejandro said softly, leaning a cheek against your hair and sharing a look with Kate, “we’re going to make sure you’re looked after ok? Just until we can sort something a little more permanent out for you.”
“I couldn’t, I don’t… I just need a little time to save up and I can get stuff” you sniffled, doing your best to keep it together.
You were fully out of money, last night had made a small fortune but that needed to go towards overdue bills and restocking. It was enough that you would be in the clear at least, and then you could actually start saving if you managed to make any profit. You wanted to say you could survive a few more cold nights, but now that it had finally hit you, that you had spent a night in a warm, cosy bed, you didn’t know that you could. 
Alejandro just hushed soothingly at you, petting your hair and letting you cry it out. He knew for a fact Kate was taking advantage of knowing he would not do anything right now that was not solely with the purpose of your comfort in mind, he could see her typing away on her phone and glancing at him as if to say “I’m going to make sure she’s looked after, but it’s nice that you can distract her while I do that I suppose.”
Would he say he was happy when Nikolai showed up to whisk you off to a B&B for the night? Mixed feelings really. He was happy that you would spend the night safe and warm nearby. He was furious it wasn’t going to be with him. And then that vanished when he melted fully to a puddle as you darted quickly back after locking up and saying goodbye to them to nervously press a kiss to his cheek.
“It’s in the contract that I should repay you for things. I hope this works to repay you for being so kind to me.”
If Kate’s snort of amusement at his scream into his hands after you had left was anything to go by, it worked far too well.
“We only have a double room left, will that be ok sir?”
Nikolai had taken one look at you all cried out and sniffling outside that tea shop and decided there and then that he was going to feed you the largest meal of your life and then tuck you into a nice, warm bed and let you sleep for as long as you wanted. If he had known when he got the message from Price about the tea shop opening that you were the little thing behind the Captain and Gaz calling in all their favours he would have told the general he was flying to a critical mission to walk so he could attend. 
As it was he had been on his way to visit and apologise for not making it when he had gotten the message from Kate that she was giving him a new assignment. He didn’t know the full background, he did know that the 141 was in big trouble whatever had happened. Not his problem, he was focused on you. 
He had teased that he was going to fly you out of there at first and you had about passed away on the spot before he scrambled to tell you he was joking. The B&B wasn’t too far, it was in the nearest little village an hours walk from the teashop in the opposite direction of the base. You told him you were ok to walk and he had scooped you onto his back anyway, let you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder as you chatted away about anything and everything.
Your attempts at learning some Russian was adorable, trying to wrap your tongue around the words he would give you before even asking what they meant (he had gotten you to say ‘I am very cute’ perfectly and then told you it meant ‘thank you’, so delighted when you said it frequently that it overrode the guilt at being so duplicitous about it. He’d tell you one day. Maybe).  
“Of course, double is perfect.”
Not that you would protest given that you were fast asleep on his back now, the weight of your head on his shoulder comforting. You deserved the rest he imagined, he had gotten pictures from Price of the opening. It wasn’t easy to have so many big personalities in one place, much less have them all vying for your attention. He took great glee knowing that every single one would be chewing glass when they found out he had you all to himself right now.
You woke up when you were put down onto the bed, blearily blinking as you tried to work out your new surroundings. It was a cosy little room, the bed you were on was like a marshmallow with the perfect firm to squishy ratio and Nikolai who you had come to like very much in the last hour was laying out a frankly disgusting amount of room service onto the little table, so much of it that you could see some had already needed to be put on the vanity.
It was wonderful to exist in a sleepy, happy haze as you ate your weight in comforting pub food, soaked in the bath he had run for you and then fell into bed. Only there was only one bed. And he was already settling himself in the armchair and putting on reading glasses that made him look adorable to start one of the little romcoms from the tiny library in the foyer. In truth Nikolai was more inclined to share, but he knew that even the act of asking you would put pressure on you. He knew a people pleaser when he saw one. 
“...the bed is big enough for you as well. Would it be ok if we shared?”
Well he hadn’t expected you to be the one asking him and it took him by surprise enough that he put down his book and just blinked at you for a moment, brain short circuiting and answering in Russian instead with a heartfelt speech about how he did not want you to feel you had to offer and how he would love to hold you if you’d let him because you seemed like you should always be held and if he got to be the one to do that for only one night he would be so grateful for the trust you had given him.
You had no clue what this handsome man was saying, but it sounded nice. You hoped you hadn’t overstepped.
“I’m sorry I didn’t understand. I… have a bit of a contract with the 141. It’s for services and goods of equivalent value when they help me out. And you’ve helped me out a lot tonight so I know sharing the bed isn’t exactly, well I mean it’s really your bed, so I should be the one in the chair really, so it’s not me repaying you at all to share it” you rambled, very sleepy from the abundance of food and the warm bath.
“Oh lapposhychka, it is no wonder I got such warm messages from the Captain” Nikolai sighed, seeing how a light blush dusted across your nose when you got yourself worked up about a problem. “I do not want you to make yourself uncomfortable because you think to repay me with it.”
You brought the blankets right up to the bridge of your nose to hide your little shy smile, feeling somehow like you could tell him the truth that you could never say out loud to anyone else.
“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I was the one who wrote it down to be vague just incase… people wanted to be creative with interpretation.”
Nikolai took a moment to understand and then laughed so loudly that you could hear the neighbours laughing at his boisterous laugh. He was happy to slide into bed beside you then and you were using his chest as a pillow and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. When you tried to thank him in Russian he only laughed lightly and hugged you as you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
“Open bonnie.”
You automatically opened your mouth to let Soap feed you another bite of pastry, eyes not leaving the accounts you were pouring over. Johnny wasn’t complaining at how concentrated you were, not when it meant you had let yourself be hand fed by him after being manoeuvred into Simon’s lap. It was almost enough to make up for his plans being ruined to offer you his bedroom after Kate and Alejandro (and then very swiftly via Rudy’s big mouth everyone) had found out about your sleeping arrangements. 
You had been back to open the next morning and were going over what it would cost to stay in the B&B and build an extension versus the cost of just renting or getting a mortgage on a place in the village. Him and Simon had shared several looks to the tune of “we are going to need to get it into her pretty head somehow that we can pay for everything and actually wouldn’t it be easier for her to always have access to everything she needed if she married one of us?” and then getting into an argument about who that should be. 
It was idyllic and wonderful and then of course Simon had to be Simon and have an admirer who was jealousy pawing at the beautiful thing in his lap.
“Oh! Ah Herzogin, I’m so sorry, I’ve taken your space haven’t I?” you said with a little scritch behind her ears as you stood and stretched. 
Immediately the cat was up in Simon’s lap and purring aggressively, making biscuits into his thigh. The look between him and Johnny then was more to the tune of:
“Jesus Si dae ye have tae be such a bloody cat magnet?”
“Well what do you want me to do Johnny? Shove König’s cat onto the floor?”
“Wait… wait we need tae steal König’s cat.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well if we want tae have her pick us…”
The unspoken conversation did not make it much further because you were asking if they wanted a drink. Johnny ordered an Irish coffee, Simon ordered an earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey. 
“Oh, you mean a L-” you started, Simon looking at you like he may commit homicide if you said the words ‘London Fog’ to refer to his drink order. 
“Llllllarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey,” you finally said, desperately improvising. 
“A large, yes sweetheart” he said with a grin that nearly knocked you unconscious anytime you saw it on his unmasked face. “Although I’ll take payment for looking after the cat just now.”
While one hand was scritching at said cat he used the other to grab your waist and pull you closer, tilting his head up and smirking. Honestly he had mostly expected you to blush brightly and if he was very lucky kiss his cheek, so when you leaned down and pressed your lips to his beautifully gently the scariest solider the SAS had ever seen was reduced to blushing brightly himself.
Soap was only too eager to remind you of his services of feeding you bites of food so you wouldn’t simply waste away while you were working and your bravery only stretched so far to give him a quick peck before fleeing to the kitchen absolutely ablaze to make the coffee and London Fogarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey.
It had been less of a fight than you thought for you to stay in the shop. Price had insisted they get you an air mattress and a proper duvet at least, but they had all been respectful of your wishes even if not happy about it when you had said you really would be ok. They were already doing so much now that you had decided to build an extension instead of renting or buying somewhere else (you loved this place so much, you didn’t want to be so far away). Already they were grumbling about contractors and how they’d do a bad job so you may as well let them do it and honestly? A little part of you felt like this was as much their baby as it was yours, so you were warmed that they wanted to help.
And you were also warmed by how they had listened. They hadn’t overruled you like you were worried they might, they had just made sure that you were safe and as comfortable as possible. Mind you their idea of safe was overkill (the locks on the door they had installed in record time were something out of a sci-fi movie and more often than not the past few weeks you had not been alone on that air mattress in the shop), but you still felt so listened to and respected in your own right.
This was the first evening in the last 5 you had spent just you and Herzogin. Well just you since she had slinked out to go cause mischief somewhere no doubt. You were honestly a little relieved when there was a knock at the door, feeling a little strange being alone now as you got up, jumped through hoops to unlock all the security protocols and opened the door.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
You did not know the American on your doorstep in the torn skull balaclava, but you could see he had been beaten badly. 
“Who did this to you?” was spilling out of you as you reached out your arms to him to try to take some of his weight since he was slumped against the doorway.
“If I told you that I’d have to kill you sweetheart” he said, somehow managing to sound condescending even though he was hissing the words through gritted teeth.
It was probably a strange thing to think, but he reminded you of Simon. Something about the way he held himself, the way he handled this situation. The pet name. Maybe it was some transferred fondness that had you taking as much of his weight as you could handle and stumbling inside with him, dropping him on the sofa (a new addition thanks to Nik) and rushing over to get the first aid box that thankfully had been upgraded to a full military grade mini medic bay by Kate and Farah. 
“I mean you could try, but you’re not looking so hot” you said, bringing the kit over and kneeling by the sofa to try and figure out the worst of the damage.
“Ouch sweetheart, never had anyone tell me I don’t look hot on a first date.”
Oh this man was ridiculous, but at least if he was flirting he was probably not dying. 
“What can I say, high standards.”
You felt his eyes scrutinising you as you checked him over. You had trained in first aid before you had even bought this place, knowing that it would be legally required but also that morally you could not have people in your premises without knowing you could look after them. Not that your customers generally needed looking after. Even the ancient book club that had started coming in from the village on Sunday afternoons were tough as old nails.
“You’ve not called anyone.”
“Well I’m assuming you don’t want an ambulance involved, and I wanted to at least be able to say how bad you were before calling someone else.”
“Who are you gonna call?”
“Ghostbusters.”
He laughed and you hissed at him to stop when it clearly put him in more pain to do so. Poor Nik had been so proud when he had arrived with this sofa, had really been gloating to everyone about how you had reacted by launching yourself at him in a hug, and the chances of the blood stains ever coming out were very slim. 
“And if I asked you not to?”
You looked at his eyes to find them staring back at you, almost in challenge. This guy sure was a piece of work, but you really wanted him to be ok. As you tried to pack the stab wound (you thought at least) with gauze, you mused that maybe this time somebody might owe you and not the other way around. 
“Then I’d wait until you passed out and then call him when you couldn’t say no if I asked.”
“Good girl.”
Oh. Oh. That was not something you were going to be exploring while your hands were covered in blood. You just levelled him with a glare that very much screamed ‘behave yourself’ and grabbed your phone to call Simon. He answered on the second ring.
You know when you really sat down to reflect, your life had gotten so strange. Fake dating König because some wildly charming man called Graves had called you “little darlin’” and that was apparently a security threat, having to smack Soap with one of those squeaky toy hammers any time he scratched at his stitches after coming back fully banged up from a mission, having to referee a tricycle race between Ale and Valeria (your first time meeting her had been wild in and of itself), mediating the all out war between the book club made up of 80+ year olds and the 141. 
One thing you could say for sure though when Price took your blind fold off to reveal the brand new extension finished with the absolute cosiest living space you could ever have wanted is that you were incredibly happy. It was a strange family that you found yourself in, but with that now almost illegible from all the additions contract proudly on the wall of your teashop, you found that it suited you just fine.
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auspicioustidings · 7 months
Text
Services/Goods of Equivalent Value
Summary: You decide to renovate a crumbling farm house into a teashop, not realising there is a military base right down the road.
Work Count: 3.9k (this was completely by accident)
CW: None, the whole thing is a fluff piece
This was probably crazy. It was definitely crazy right? People didn't actually get to pursue their passions and have their dream job under relentless capitalism, that wasn't a thing right? So then why did you think that you could be different? Especially standing on this road (dirt path really) looking at the crumbling wreck of a farmhouse with only one suitcase and a backpack to your name.
The property had already taken a chunk of your savings and you'd need every penny of the rest to try and turn it into what you imagined. You walked over the threshold and took a breath. It was a rainy day, the puddles on the floor evidence of the holes in the roof. Parts of the floor were cracked and rotting. Only one window had managed to stay completely intact, the rest either totally gone or cracked beyond repair. But when you turned the tap and found that after a heroic sputter the water did flow through you grinned. 
It didn't matter how the small space looked now, it mattered what you could see in it. You got to work.
--
You threw the screwdriver on the ground and huffed, stopping your feet like a child. This was the 5th time you had attached the new front door and the 5th time it was wrong. It wouldn't fit in the frame properly. You kept plaining down the edge gingerly, taking off a tiny bit at a time so you didn't go too far, and every time when you propped it up it seemed like it fit until you actually added the hinges.
"Ye ok there hen?"
Oh that was embarrassing, there was a man on the road. He was jogging in place, pausing what must have been a run judging by his workout gear to give you a bemused grin. You flustered a little, wildly gesturing to the door in accusation. You had every good reason to be in a huff, the door was being a dick. 
He laughed at you and you blew out a breath before groaning and slumping down to hug your knees and bury your head there in embarrassment, your voice muffled.
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong, it just won't go on."
You heard warm laughter and then footsteps coming towards you. Felt a hand gently petting at your head in a 'there there' gesture. 
"I wouldnae expect it tae. It's the wrong type of door for this frame."
You unburied your head and looked at him, aghast. 
"But can't I just make it smaller? I've been making it smaller. I really love that door."
"Aye that would eventually make it fit, but it's an interior door, wilnae dae fuck all to keep the elements oot."
You groaned and just accepted your fate, falling back on your ass and then laying star fished on the ground to stare at the sky. You were bone tired. You'd laid the floor, it was crooked as hell. The windows were fitted but two of them just did not open properly and you couldn't figure out why. You had given up on the leaks, putting buckets down for the moment and hoping the next downpour would hold off until you could come up with a solution.
It wasn't like you weren't trying your hardest, but it was just so much all the time and you wondered why on earth you thought you could do this. A shadow fell over you as the man leant to look at you with a smile.
"I can help ye with the door" he offered, holding out a hand which you took to shake from your spot on the ground, telling him your name. "Nice tae meet you, John MacTavish."
"I can't pay you John MacTavish, so thanks but I'll figure something out."
"Wisnae offering for pay hen, just tryin' tae help a damsel in distress."
You considered him for a moment before hauling yourself up and making your way inside, motioning for him to follow. You started tearing through the place to find a pen and paper, clearing tools and assorted nonsense off of the countertop to lay the paper flat. 
Johnny took the place in with some sense of awe. Last time he saw this place it was basically a ruin and he had to hand it to you, you had done a half decent job with it. There was charm in all the flaws, made the place feel undeniably cosy. He noted the buckets, would have to fix the roof. He wasn't any good at that kind of work, but hadn't he seen Rudy doing roof work on one of the safe houses before? They were due a visit from Los Vaqueros soon, he'd ask him to come help. Wasn't too far a trip, this road was a half hour run from a small off record military base the 141 tended to use when they didn't feel like being miserable in some rules bound grey prison of a base.
Rudy was a bit like him, always loved a project. He tried to figure out what exactly you were doing with the place. The counter looked like a bar of some sort, maybe a shop? 
"Ok John, here you go" you said, presenting the very hastily written contract. 
I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value as soon as I have the means to do so. 
"Services and goods eh? Wit ye selling?"
"Once I get the place fixed up, tea."
Johnny couldn't help but grin at your expression. You were so determined and so excited about the prospect, like the idea of it had completely re-filled your energy. Cute.
"Add coffee to the menu and you have a deal."
--
You liked Alejandro immediately and immensely. John, or Soap as you were now calling him and honestly you had no clue why, and Rudy were absolute terrors together. You actually did enjoy being around them, but my God if it didn't tire you out something awful. It was impossible not to be high energy with them, bouncing around and laughing and having fun. But when Alejandro had joined he had calmed you down, allowed you to take it slow and easy after days of feeling like a live wire. 
With the roof fixed and a front door that worked you were able to start actually unpacking the suit case you had brought into the place months ago. Two kettles and your favourite tea set along with a big copper pot you loved, some utensils and some hand blended tea. It wasn't a lot, but being able to make that first pot of tea almost made you cry. 
You were extra attentive, making sure it was brewed perfectly before going outside to find the others. You were nervous, the first time you had felt that way around them. None of the three were much for tea, that you knew. 
"Hey I... uh, I made tea. I don't actually have any coffee just yet but I promise I'm going to get some soon! It was just in the meantime, if you wanted something to drink. Tea I mean, if you wanted to drink some tea. Which you do not have to" you rambled, trying to give your best winning smile to the three men currently working away at one of the windows. The ones that you couldn't open you had installed completely wrong so they had taken to reinstalling them. 
Johnny and Rudy were content to watch you ramble away, seeing you like this being new to them so choosing to enjoy it while it lasted. You were adorable like this, heart on your sleeve telling them that it was important to you that they enjoyed something you had made for them. Alejandro only smiled and pulled off his gloves, stuffing them in his back pocket and going over to you.
"We would love some tea, it's the first time you've made it here no? Thank you for trusting us to share it" he said warmly, watching how you visibly relaxed. He liked that he could have that effect on you.
"Well if the boss says we drink tea then we drink tea" Rudy laughed, him and Soap following after.
--
You reckoned that if he went by first impressions, Simon Riley probably thought you were the biggest airhead he had ever met. In your defence though, you had the worst cold known to man when he had come round. 
The place was looking great, but the fireplace wasn't done yet. As you had been since starting this project, and as you had been hiding from any visitors, you were sleeping in the building in a sleeping bag on the floor. It was getting bitingly cold and you were bundled up in layers whenever you went to bed. You could not afford to rent somewhere nearby while this was going on and to be honest you hadn't really thought ahead to what you would do when you actually opened the place. Probably just keep on sleeping on the floor, or maybe once you got furniture on one of the cosy armchairs you wanted to get.
He had made a house call when you were miserably sipping at a hot chocolate. Rudy had taught you how to make it, a recipe from Mexico. It was gently spiced and beautifully warming and smooth, but with your current cold you could barely taste it, hence the misery. 
"Y'should really lock the door, I could be a murderer walking in here."
The man who had walked in was tall, in full tactical gear and wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. Probably was a murderer.
"Please put me out of my misery Mr murderer."
You honestly hadn't meant to say that to a complete stranger, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton wool instead of grey matter today. Thankfully he only chuckled gruffly instead of fulfilling your request.
"And then where would I get more of whatever tea Johnny brought back to base?"
Johnny. Right, this must be Ghost then. Soap talked about him sometimes, said him, Gaz and Price liked your tea which had made you jump up and down in excitement at the time. Your signature blend had taken you years to get just the way you liked it. Soap had also said something about Ghost having a mask, so you at least assumed this wasn't one of the other two. 
"Oh right, let me get you some to take away with you. Hang on" you said, going to pack some of the leaves up into a little brown bag for him. 
You put it on the counter and then went into the cupboard, grabbing the mug you had gotten in a Halloween sale. It was a white mug in the shape of a ghost, two little eyes on the front. You ladled in some of the hot chocolate from the pot on the stove and put that on the counter as well. 
Ghost watched the whole thing with concealed amusement. He had genuinely come to get some of the tea, he liked the blend and they had run out of what Johnny had brought. But he had also come out of curiosity. It was clear Johnny was fond of you from the way his eyes lit up when he'd tell them all what he had done with you that day whenever he would come back to base. Rudy and Alejandro too when they had been visiting seemed enamoured, tense from mission planning right up until a visit to you would have them coming back relaxed and happy.
Part of him had been hoping to scare you a little showing up the way he had in gear and mask. It was probably because you were clearly sick, but you weren't treating him like something scary. No, you were sluggishly getting him tea and then giving him hot chocolate in a cute little ghost mug.
"You shouldn't be working sick, definitely a health and safety violation."
"Place isn't open yet so not technically working."
"In that case, thanks for the hot chocolate."
When he left, he took off his massive cosy looking jacket and draped it over your shoulders without a word before grabbing the bag of tea and taking off.
--
You tried a bunch of names for the cat and none of them seemed to fit just right. The scrappy little thing started hanging around the place when you started leaving out snacks for it and you found you enjoyed the company. 
The place was nearly ready now, interior cosy and furnished with a bunch of mismatched furniture you had thrifted that somehow managed to match the vibe very well. With the fire going the place glowed just the way you had always dreamt it would, and the way the scent of tea clung pleasantly to the air was more than you could have hoped for. Simon and Soap had helped haul a lot of the furniture, but they had been gone for a month now. You really hoped you would see them again so you could show them the place now, completely transformed from when they last saw it. 
Cosy enough now for this cat to enjoy at least. She even had a favourite spot, one of the wing backed armchairs by the fireplace. 
"How about Binks?" you asked her, currently leaning behind the counter and mulling over a cup of tea. 
In response the cat only yawned and blinked lazily at you. 
"Ok, not Binks then" you laughed, taking a sip and sighing in contentment. Honestly who knew if you'd ever get customers, this place was completely out of the way, but you were proud of what you had created. Dirt poor, but proud. You'd open soon you thought, actually give this a go. 
The cat eventually stretched and padded over to the door, looking over at you expectantly. 
"Alright alright, time for you to go wherever it is you go" you said, going over to open the door and let her out. 
There was a giant on the other side of the door and you all but jumped out of your skin in surprise. The man looked like he had been considering knocking, just as surprised as you were for a moment. Purring broke you both out of your surprise, the cat butting up against the man's legs.
"So this is where you've been getting to Herzogin" he said to the cat, leaning down to give her some scratches which resulted in more purring before she went right back to her spot on the chair, leaving you and the giant stood at the doorway alone.
"Is Herzogin her name? I'm sorry, I thought she was a stray" you said with a slight smile, hoping you hadn't accidentally become a catnapper.
"She is a stray of kinds, the base nearby feeds her sometimes so I got used to having her around is all."
"Oh my God the base! That makes way more sense now, I didn't realise there was something like that nearby."
So that's where all these men had been coming from. You wondered if that meant Ghost, Soap, Rudy and Alejandro weren't stationed there anymore or had been moved. The military wasn't something you understood, but you assumed they must move around a lot. Did they have a home base of sorts? Was it selfish of you to sort of hope the one near you was a home base for them?
"If they had told us about this place we would have visited" the man said as if in apology.
"Oh no don't worry, I'm not actually open yet. I'm just sort of practicing drinks until I work up the nerve" you laughed. "Do you want to try something? I'm best at making tea, but I've been trying out coffees and hot chocolates as well."
You moved to unblock the doorway, inviting him in and telling him your name. He said you could call him König. Luckily this place had high ceilings so he could experience the cosiness without it being cramped for him.
König found the next few hours to be some of the most calming he had experienced in years. He wouldn't deny that he enjoyed the bloodthirst of battle, it gave him a manic energy that suited him. But there was something to be said for letting himself be fully off duty. It was nice to teach you how to make Einspänner, laugh at your pronunciation of it and have you laugh back rather than be nervous around him for his size or his reputation. Sipping his drink by the fire with a cat in his lap and you softly telling him all about your big plans for the place if it started to do well was something he hadn't known he had been yearning for. 
He knew him and the others in Kortac were only here a few more days, the 141 being gracious in allowing them to use their base to lay low while they handled the absolute mess happening in America just now. The whole thing had at least given the teams an uneasy alliance for the time being. Maybe he'd put some effort into keeping that alliance going so he could visit again. 
--
You knew that you should do some sort of advertising for an opening, but the idea was overwhelming. Instead you just quietly popped a little open sign by the door and went about your day as normal. You would probably get nobody coming in because nobody knew this was here and that suited you fine. It felt like once 'opening day' was over and the pressure of it was out of the way, then you could actually seek out customers and not feel like it was as big a deal. 
If zero people showed up your first day then the only direction was up right?
Only two people did show up. Price and Gaz. They had greeted you warmly like you were an old friend, explaining that they knew Soap and Simon who would be home soon but that they wanted to visit themselves. They seemed to like the place which made you happy, both settling in at one of the tables and chatting amicably away with you while you made their tea. 
Herzogin didn't seem to care that there was company, barely even looking to check before curling back up in her spot happily purring away.
Captain Price found he liked this place immediately. It struck him as bordering on fantastical, seeming like a tea shop from a fantasy novel on the inside. It was an hour at a brisk walk to get here but he regretted not making the trip sooner, imagining that any customer who had come once would certainly become a regular regardless of distance. It was a relaxing spot, almost nostalgic feeling. 
For Gaz the place was lovely, but he was more fascinated with you. He had wanted to visit before, had tried to tag along with Ghost and Soap and been denied. He reckoned he probably knew why now, bastards were being selfish and keeping you all to themselves. 
"Is it always so quiet for you on weekdays at this time?" Price asked at some point in the conversation, watching the pretty blush that stained your cheeks with interest.
"Oh well technically, this is the first weekday I've been open at this time. It's actually sort of opening day? I mean I didn't really advertise or anything, I wasn't actually expecting anyone to show up if I'm honest" you replied sheepishly.
"It's a soft open then, just to test everything out yeah?" Gaz said gently.
"I think that's an idea. This can be your soft open and then in a week you can open proper. That way Ghost and Soap can be here for it" Price added.
Both of them were giving you such soft looks that you couldn't help but agree with them, settling on a date in a weeks time for a real opening. When the conversation turned to how you would advertise they had promptly told you not to worry about it with a knowing look to one another.
--
Every seat in the place was taken and the tables and counters were overflowing with sweets and snacks from all over the world. Bukkumi, halva, berlinerkranser, churros, shortbread, teacakes, all brought in for everyone to share. You were so busy making drinks that you didn't even register how ridiculous it was that you were happily hand fed bites of different desserts every so often by whoever happened to be near you when you stopped to fill a cup or mug. 
It was nice to see everyone you had met again and to meet new faces. Herzogin took it all in her stride, figuring out quickly who she liked. You hid a laugh seeing König huff when she curled up in Simon's lap. The official opening was by all accounts an outrageous success and everyone absolutely overpaid on their bills regardless of your efforts to stop them. 
Farah promised to teach you how to make the halva while Horangi swore that the bukkumi would remain a trade secret and you'd just have to hire him next time he was in town to make it for you. Aksel had rolled his eyes at the Korean man and pressed a kiss to your cheek in thanks for taking care of them. Kate smacked Soap upside the head when he immediately made a beeline to give you kisses as well which made you laugh before blushing and pressing a quick peck to his cheek when he pouted about it.
When everybody was finally out of the door you were absolutely exhausted. By the time the sound of the last car leaving faded away you were already done with tidying all the plates and cups away to the sink. You'd deal with the cleaning up tomorrow, you were far too beat to even consider doing it now. Giving Herzogin a kiss on the head after you had gotten ready for bed, you curled up in the chair by the fireplace, crashing out hard almost immediately.
--
"Told you so."
"Ye always have tae be right about everything don't ye LT."
"Alright. Get her in the car would you Sergeant."
"Right-o Captain, we kidnapping damsels now?"
"It's not a bloody kidnapping you cheeky bastard. We're putting her in a proper bed for the night and taking her back in the morning once she's made a bad attempt at explaining herself."
"She can take my room."
After some discussion on that point it was decided that you would indeed take Ghost's room with the reasoning it meant nobody would disturb you. They could hardly put you in one of the empty rooms where anyone might walk in. Everyone who they had invited for the opening was staying at base and they were not about to risk the likes of König or Rudy figuring out you were sleeping under the same roof as them. They'd avoid that for as long as possible.
Tomorrow they'd let you sweat a bit and then tell you in no uncertain terms that you'd be staying with them for the time being until they could build you an extension to your shop with a proper living space. You could pay them back with services/goods of equivalent value after all, and they could think of plenty of ideas for what that looked like.
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auspicioustidings · 2 months
Text
Military Operation
Summary: Soap finds out Ghost has never celebrated Valentine's Day before and it all goes a little tits up. This is part of @bunnyreaper's Valentine's Day exchange and is for @juvenillia <3 (I signed up for this before I went into an absolute depressive fugue state so I can only apologise that it is not my best writing)
Words: 3k
“I’m naw fucking around, this needs tae be efficient and ruthless. Get in, get out, dinnae take any chances.”
“Yes sir.”
You try to hold in a laugh, eyes watering as Gaz catches your eye and is finding it equally as hilarious to have the Captain refer to Soap as sir. It’s ridiculous and Price knows it, but with how worked up Soap is he’s clearly feeling indulgent. Only all mirth dies and leaves your throat tight when Soap sets his eyes on you, looking wounded.
You had not realised until right this moment how much this meant to him. It seemed silly to you that he was treating Valentine’s Day as a military operation after Ghost let slip that he had never celebrated it, but it definitely wasn’t silly to Soap. Ah shit. Now you felt dreadful. 
“Ok Sergeant, what can we do?”
He softened a bit at your sincerity and as he went over all of his planning you couldn’t help but feel the dread bubble up. You had been on this team for long enough now to know when John MacTavish was spiralling, and right now he was spiralling. It had been a while since his last episode when Gaz had gotten shot on mission and he had spent the next month completely burning himself out in his desperation to look after him. It was how he was, once he cared about you, he would completely self-destruct if it meant he could be of some service to you. It had been Ghost who brought him back that time and honestly you had not a fucking clue how.
You were paired up with Price to get the pool ready as per Soap’s instructions while he handled the rec room decorations and Gaz was sent to deal with food. It was pretty overboard as far as a Valentine’s Day went. Soap’s plan was to give Ghost a card telling him to go to the rec room after a romantic breakfast where there would be a note to lead him to the next location. It would be sweet if poor Soap wasn’t liable to give himself a stress induced heart attack before the end of the day.
“Captain…”
“I know kid” Price sighed with a press of his lips to your cheek. “If we can just get through today then we'll see what can be done. If we try stop him it’ll make him worse.”
You knew he was right even if you didn’t like it. Honestly the relationship the 5 of you had was tenuous at best. You were a unit, you worked well together in the field. You couldn’t really pinpoint when you had become something more than that. It happened slowly. It wasn’t some big confession or conversation, it was affectionate touches turning to something more between all of you. You thought that was perfect, but you wondered sometimes if for someone like Soap who was a romantic at heart and never could hide his feelings, the lack of definition as to what this all was stung.
“None of that corporal. If I have to be up sneaking around at 2am on Valentine’s Day putting bloody rose petals in a swimming pool then at the very least I’m going to take what enjoyment I can from it.”
“Is there any enjoyment you can get from this?”
“Hmm, battle plans are your specialisation.”
“That right?”
“Better come up with a plan for us to somehow take some enjoyment from being here all alone at this time.”
“That an order Captain?”
“Only because I know how much you like taking orders from me.”
You had to give it to Price, he had a way of taking your mind off things and then making you completely lose it. Slowly. Decadently. Several delicious times in a row. 
You sleepily speared one of your pancakes and plopped it on Gaz’s plate who just as sleepily nuzzled a thank you into your hair before tucking in. Soap was sharp eyed given that none of you had bloody slept trying to make everything absolutely perfect for his plans. His leg was bouncing under the table as Price and Ghost joined you all at the table. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” he blurted out.
Ghost only responded with a slight nod of acknowledgment before Soap put the envelope on the table causing a tilt of Ghost’s head in question.
“Open it LT!”
You would really like to be invested in this, but as with Gaz beside you the two of you were more concerned about how Soap would cope with today. Honestly this could all go completely off without a hitch and he’d probably still be a mess at the end of the day thinking he had fucked everything up. Only it did not go off without a hitch as Ghost started to speak whilst opening the card that would kick off a day of in your face Valentine’s Day fun.
“S’not that I don’t appreciate it Johnny. February 14th is an anniversary.”
Oh no. 
“Not really up for big celebrations the way you lot probably are. Seems wrong to on the day they were murdered.”
Oh no. It was too late. He was reading it. He was reading the card telling him to go to the rec room after he had eaten breakfast. The rec room that was smothered in fucking heart balloons and bunting and flowers. Gaz choked down his pancakes at breakneck speed.
“Totally understandable. Don’t worry about it, we really only had low key stuff planned but maybe it’d be nice to get off base instead” you said with what you hoped was a very believable smile.
“Oh! Aye! A wee off base trip would be good!”
“Hey” Ghost said, his big hand going to rest on top of Soap’s still bouncing leg to stop it. “Stop flapping Johnny. Low key is fine, just let me get breakfast and I’ll come to the rec room.”
Maybe God would be merciful and a nuclear war would start before he got the chance and save you all from being revealed as the most callous assholes in the world who were shoving love in Simon Riley’s face on the anniversary his family were fucking murdered. But since you couldn’t rely on that, you, Gaz and Soap were up and snatching your plates off the table in record time. 
“Sounds good! You and Cap take your time, it’s really nothing big so no rush!” Gaz said with forced brightness and a mega watt smile to Price that in no uncertain terms said ‘please keep him here for as long as possible while we try to do damage control’.
“Aye, dinnae rush! Enjoy yer pancakes!” Soap added, choking on the last word as his eyes bulged out of his head. 
Fuck. The pancakes. The fucking stupid heart pancakes that were sitting ready on the counter for Ghost to take. Only when he stood to go grab his plate, Gaz beat him to it and grabbed the full stack in his hand before shoving them into his mouth. Everyone froze in total shock as Soap sprung into action to help push the rest of the mess into Gaz’s face as he struggled to breathe while trying to swallow. 
“Ah ha, totally forgot Gaz is carb loading! For that marathon thing. Yeah he’s totally carb loading right now, just eating all the carbs in sight.”
Gaz tried to back you up on that around a mouthful of stupid fucking pancakes only resulting in him nearly choking on powdered sugar and syrup while Soap started to frantically steer him out of the room. None of you noticed Price sneaking a photo of the whole scene.
“Aye, carb loading! Cannae help himself! Bonnie can make ye pancakes, they’re the best at them since they always take their time cooking. And then ye can all meet us.”
“Yes! I can do that. Totally. I can make pancakes. Slow cooked pancakes since Gaz ate your portion. Because he is carb loading.”
Soap pressed a frantic parting kiss to your forehead, leaving one on Ghost’s mask and the last on Price’s lips before carting Gaz out of there still coughing and sputtering and covered with syrup. Yeah, totally chill and normal behaviour. If you were anything but in a blind panic maybe it would have been suspicious that Ghost didn’t ask questions, only taking your hips to pull your back against his chest and scrape his teeth against your throat. 
“Better get to making those pancakes before the Lieutenant skips right to dessert luv.”
“Jesus what are these made of fucking kevlar?” Gaz hissed, trying to pop one of the heart balloons with his teeth because his panicked fingers couldn’t get the bloody thing untied.
On an empty bloody base and neither of them had so much as a fucking pin for popping balloons after sprinting from the mess to try and get rid of the evidence of a very ill conceived attempt at romance. Eventually he took his teeth to the knot and got the stupid thing undone only to get a mouth full of helium while Soap frantically stuffed bunting behind the sofa.
“This is a pure shitemare.”
“I’m sorry, a shitemare?”
There was a pause before the two of them burst into wild laughter. Gaz from the word shitemare, Soap from Gaz saying the word shitemare with his voice high from the helium. Fuck it felt good. It felt like a release after the last 20 minutes of absolute blind fear driving them to try and sort this fuck up out. 
Honestly Gaz hadn’t seen Soap laugh since Ghost had said about never having celebrated Valentine’s Day a week ago and he missed it. He missed the way his boy’s eyes crinkled and how he carded his hands through his hair and messed it up while trying to catch his breath. He missed how everything felt alright when John MacTavish smiled at him.
He really couldn’t help going and kissing him when he collapsed in an exhausted heap on the sofa after they had both laughed themselves silly and finished brutally murdering the rest of the balloons and squirrelling away the bunting. Soap had been his first kiss in the team and even now he liked kissing him most. You always teased him about it, knowing it didn’t take away from what you two had. After all, you would readily agree that Soap was the best kisser. 
They still had to get rid of the flowers, but maybe staying here a little longer wouldn’t hurt.
“Leave them be sweetheart, they’re cute.”
You were at least relieved that the majority of the decorations seemed to have vanished even if there were still a few vases of flowers around the place, although the bigger relief was seeing your Sergeants tangled up snoozing on the sofa. When was the last time Soap had properly rested? It felt like he hadn’t at all this week. And Ghost was right, they certainly were cute like that. Price took a bunch of photos to prove it. 
You felt thoroughly exhausted as well as you fell onto the other sofa, Ghost following and tucking you into his side. 
“Did nobody sleep last night?”
You stuttered trying to come up with an excuse as to why you were all so tired.
“Could have at least invited me if there was an orgy happening.”
That turned you into a complete flustering mess which only made him and Price laugh.
“Come on sweetheart, get some rest in.”
Well since they had gotten rid of the note in this room about going to the pool next the whole crisis had been averted. And you always loved cuddling with Ghost. A nap couldn’t hurt.
“I like the flowers.”
Soap and Gaz shared a relieved look. They had meant to get rid of them but had passed out, only waking up a few hours later to find Ghost on the other sofa scrolling through his phone with you gently snoring tucked into his side. It was a really nice scene to wake up to actually. You weren’t tiny, but Ghost was huge enough to make you look that way. There was something that just made Soap’s chest warm seeing two people he knew went through hell out on the field both relaxed and gentle and happy. His quiet musing was interrupted by Gaz’s soft snort.
“You look broody as hell.”
“Want me to fuck a baby into you Gaz?”
“Not until you put a ring on it, no child of mine will be born in sin!”
Ghost’s laugh woke you but you were cosy right where you were and just listened to the three of them banter away.
“Having Johnny involved makes it a sin baby regardless of who he puts it in.”
“LT! I cannae believe ye’d say such a thing tae me! I’m a good Catholic boy!”
“Hmm, Catholicism does famously love a man sleeping with his entire unit” you quipped, earning a blown raspberry from Soap.
“Ye think my friend JC wasn’t balls deep in Judas and Mary at the very least?”
“Plus we bunk next to one another and they really make a whole big thing about loving thy neighbour so if anything we are simply following the good word.”
“See now Gaz gets it, that’s why he’s the one tae carry my child!”
“Congratulations on the pregnancy?” said Price in amusement as he came into the rec room, only catching the last line of the conversation.
“Thanks Cap” Gaz answered solemnly with a hand to his belly while you just rolled your eyes and smiled at how stupid these idiots were. 
“Can’t wait for the baby shower. Thanks for the flowers, think I’m going to go a swim before lunch.”
It was a miracle Ghost did not feel how you tensed next to him (he did). The pool was still positively smothered in rose petals. Gaz and Soap must have realised at the same time you did, both of them leaping to their feet. Fuck.
“I’ll join you, but let’s swing by my office first.”
You wanted to kiss the Captain for his fast thinking. You just had to get to the pool and fish out the petals while Price kept Ghost busy and it would be absolutely fine.
“Where the fuck is it?!” 
You could not believe this. The pool net was missing, the thing you needed to scoop out these stupid petals. The three of you had torn the place apart looking for it but it had yet to materialise. You felt like you were about to burst a blood vessel when Soap started laughing.
“I’m sorry, is something about this funny to you?” you hissed at him.
“Aye, ye look like a feisty wee cat when ye get all angry like that” he laughed.
God Soap loved seeing you angry. Not the angry you got on the battlefield, all blood and violence and vengeance. The angry you got just for them, when you were just normal people having a disaster of a Valentine’s Day and you went a shade darker with your eyes wild, arms crossed and foot tapping a grumpy little rhythm. 
Gaz loved it too, but for different reasons. He knew when you got like this that either Soap or Ghost would start winding you up and it was always entertaining to watch the carnage that came of it. It had only been a week and he had already forgotten how much he liked seeing the two of you like this, having fun.
“Come on, Captain can’t distract him forever.”
Soap’s eye slid to Gaz, hearing the undercurrent of mischief just a beat too late as he was tackled into the pool with a yelp. You really had not seen that coming at all and as Soap broke the surface and shook out his hair you winched at how he switched from the brat you knew and loved to looking genuinely upset. You held a hand out to help him like an idiot only for him to drop his little facade and pull you in with a laugh.
“You fucking dick! I’m going to kill you!”
“At least start gathering petals while you do!” Gaz laughed as you went for Soap.
Only all that did was have you and Soap looking at one another and then to Gaz. He was the one who had started it. And he was going to fucking get it. 
Price could not help but laugh at his team. Bunch of kids really. 
“Pretty diabolical stealing the pool net old man.”
“Pretty sick lying about the date your family was brutally murdered.”
Ghost grinned under his mask with a shrug. Tommy would absolutely have done the same, and he could almost hear Beth’s outraged laugh about it. It’s not like he didn’t know what was going on, he had been happy to watch you getting your back blown out that morning at the pool by Price, but he could also see Johnny was going to that place that made him hurt himself. He needed to get out of his head, and nothing got him out of his head like you and Gaz.
“You going to join them?”
Ghost pushed off his mask and Price ruffled his hair, stealing a kiss.
“Well it is Valentine’s Day, so I suppose we’d better spend it with our better fifths no?” Simon replied, going to dive into the pool and join the chaos with his Captain close behind after getting a few more photos.
He’d show them to everyone later that evening since he had been taking them all day. Gaz sleepily nuzzling you in thanks at breakfast. Soap shoving pancakes into Gaz’s mouth. Ghost trying to distract you from making him pancakes. His napping Sergeants and his snoring Corporal. And his brilliant team all crashing through petal filled water laughing and having fun. As far as Valentine’s Day went, he didn’t think it could have been anymore perfect.
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auspicioustidings · 4 months
Text
Firewatch 11
Summary: You just want to sleep, but Price needs you to calm down first.
Words: 2.8k
CW: Kidnapping, light bdsm
When Johnny tried to touch you, you only buried yourself into Simon and glowered at him. He looked wounded, pulling his hand back from where it had been poised to stroke your hair. None of them understood why you were reacting like that. You seemed back to yourself, but then it would stand to reason that you would be most scared of Simon. And yet now you were only too happy to be held by him. Only him.
As far as you were concerned it was a survival tactic. If you were always by Simon, none of them could kill you without going through him. And you weren’t really sure anyone could go through him. He seemed happy enough to play protector, thumb rubbing firm circles into your waist and teeth nibbling at the tip of your ear every so often. You suspected he was probably looking at the others when he did it, gloating. Good. 
“You need to eat sweetheart” he purred into your ear.
“Mm, don’t tell me what to do Simon.”
“Bratty even when you’re half dead.”
“Bossy even when I’m being nice.”
He chuckled at that. If he were a better man perhaps he would feel bad that Price, Johnny and Gaz were at the kitchen island looking like grumpy little puppies. As he was not a better man he only shot them a lopsided grin. Why shouldn’t he be happy? You were safe, your temperature was back to normal, you were in his arms and letting his fingers sink into the fat of your waist, letting his teeth lazily graze the skin of your ear. The fear of losing you gave way to how you fit so fucking perfectly against him. He couldn’t help but imagine how else you might fit together, how perfectly warm and wet and tight you’d be around him. Fuck would you let him take you to his bed? He didn't even need to make love to you just yet if you were still stubborn about everything, just hold you, feel your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin proving you were alive. 
“Like you nice, should give it to me more often” he said with his hand testing the waters, squeezing the meat of your thigh dangerously close to your ass. 
“Don't get used to it, can't imagine it'll be a frequent occurrence.”
You felt the squeeze and your body gave a valiant attempt at arousal, but it was like molasses, sticky and slow moving in your exhaustion. You didn't mind it, if anything it was sort of nice. His chuckle betrayed his own exhaustion a little, the raspiness of it pointing to him having had a very stressful day. 
“Then let me enjoy it while it lasts hm? Eat something for me sweetheart.”
Stupid man being stupidly charming. You didn't really feel like eating, you had went past hungry at some point in the cold and now you just wanted to stay cuddled up to someone you were steadfastly believing was safe and go to sleep. He kept jostling you though, a nip to your ear, a squeeze of your thigh or a finger tracing your spine keeping you awake from how it caused little thrills through you. 
“You make it.”
“Hm?”
“I'm not eating whatever they made. You make it. Or give me something that's sealed.”
Well that was an alarming thing to hear you mumble softly against him. The smug happiness of having you favour him was rapidly turning into concern. What exactly did you think they were going to do to you? Did you think they would poison you or were you just refusing to eat anything from them out of pettiness?
“Why?”
“I'll make it myself then” you grumbled, pushing away from him even though every fibre of you hated it.
Oh he did not like that if the growl was anything to go by. Simon stood with little warning, an arm banding under your ass to keep you wrapped around him. You tensed, knowing he was going over to the others and not being sure you really wanted to be near them. Price maybe, he had been kind, he was asleep when Johnny and Kyle had been discussing your murder. Second murder you supposed. But you couldn't really be sure he wasn't in on it. Then again you couldn't be sure Simon wasn't, but you didn't have much choice but to believe him. 
You were placed lightly on the kitchen island and he took a small step back, forcing you out into the open. You had felt a lot less vulnerable wrapped up in him, face buried in his shoulder. Your skin prickled with the gazes you felt on you. 
“I was only gone a few days, what exactly happened in that time that's got you not willing to eat anything they've made?”
“What? That true little bird? You are not starving yourself, you're already in enough trouble for running off like that” Price said, trying to temper himself.
He was off balance with this whole situation. You had seemed on the edge of giving in before he went to sleep (which he now felt incredibly guilty about) and then he wakes up to you gone? And now after letting them rescue you, Simon shows up and you are suddenly only willing to speak to him. You hadn't been refusing to eat before. You had been a brat about it sure, but you hadn't refused. 
You looked at Price, not sure how to untangle your feelings towards him. He could not be in on it, surely not. If he had wanted to kill you he could have smothered you while you were in his bed. Johnny spoke and while you didn't mean to, you flinched. Everybody certainly noticed.
“We dinnae ken what's happening in that bonnie– I… baby what's wrong?”
“Back off Johnny.”
“I didnae dae anything!”
While you were glad Simon was telling him off you wished he'd just let you cling to him again. This wasn't a conversation you wanted to have right now, you just wanted to sleep for 16 hours in a warm bed. You'd probably take a warm body in it if it wasn't someone who had openly spoken about killing you. 
“Everything seemed fine the other night luv, you were getting along.”
You did glance at Kyle, seeing him look alarmed at how you froze up when he spoke the same way you had for Johnny. He was right, you were getting along. It had been almost peaceful, you had been almost calm. Maybe that had been what they had been waiting for. 
“Simon.”
You said his name as a soft plead, hoping you could get out of this conversation. You didn't want to say it out loud. You didn't want to make it real. Because goddamnit you kind of liked them. You liked teasing Johnny when Dosia was horrible to him, you liked watching Kyle cook. It was so stupid of you to fall for it, to find yourself liking them. Please let Price be outside of it, please let him want you alive. Heartbreak twice over was already enough. 
There was a stunned sort of silence at your little plea. It wasn't really like you at all, not the you they had been getting to know. These men knew one another well enough that they could each tell that nobody knew what was going on here. This wasn’t you being angry or scared that they were keeping you here. This was something else, and none of them knew why. Price moved into your eye line and you lowered your gaze stubbornly to the ground, but you didn’t seem the same level of upset as you were with Soap or Gaz. 
His brow furrowed and he crooked a finger under your chin, making you tilt your head up and look at him. He could feel how agitated Simon had gotten at you saying his name like that, but he also knew that he trusted him with you. He trusted he would make this right. So he stayed where he was, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms to ensure he wouldn’t reach out while Price tried to fix whatever had went so horribly wrong.
“What’s going on?”
“Failed escape attempt, obviously.”
“Try again little bird.”
Oh, he was using that voice again. That one that oozed authority and made you want to push and push and push until he snapped. Only now you didn’t know what that meant. Part of you hoped he would just backhand you, show you his true colours so you could get over whatever this ridiculous feeling was. Another part badly wanted him to take some sort of control, force your racing thoughts to calm. Fuck you were demented.
“You wanted me to stay put, you should have clipped my wings.”
“That what you want?”
Maybe. Maybe you just wanted them to stop fucking toying with you. You were exhausted, fear and misery had drained you and you just wanted to give in, but your already incredibly wounded pride would really rather he made you give in so you could pretend you had fought it.
“Does it matter what I want John?”
He considered you for a while, the world holding its breath in anticipation. You didn’t realise how tense you really were until he moved his hand to the nape of your neck, tugging you off of the counter, fingers and thumb gripping with enough pressure that it loosened you all at once. The others didn’t intervene as he marched you out of the kitchen and into his office, the click of the lock causing a full body shiver. He was behind you and you just let your eyes softly unfocus on the wall as he bent slightly to speak right into your ear.
“I didn’t want to do this right now. You need rest. But you’re too wound up for that aren’t you little bird? Won’t even eat if we can’t get you calmed down.”
His foot slid between yours, pushing gently to get your legs to widen as he pressed on your neck, bending you over the desk. You didn’t have resistance left to give as you settled on your elbows. His hand running down your spine made you sigh. 
“This… it doesn’t change anything” you said softly as tugged on your sweatpants, getting access to the bare swell of your ass.
“Course not. Bet’s still on, and I still intend to win.”
Gaz couldn’t sleep. He was half tempted to do what Soap had done and sneak into Ghost’s bed for some form of bloody comfort. He hadn’t seen you since Price had taken you into that office, although they all knew exactly what would have happened in there. He knew you were due punishment for running away like that, but it unsettled him that it had happened so soon. You weren’t right yet, you were still… well he didn’t know. That was the problem. Shock he could understand, but he thought they had warmed you up and got you lucid again. And then you had looked at him like you were scared of him. You had never looked at him like that before, not even when you had been spitting mad and screaming at Soap. 
He trusted Price, he knew that he’d figure out what was wrong, knew that he’d take care of you in whatever way you needed it. But it didn’t help him sleep. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to cosy into him like you had done with Ghost. It drove him wild watching how his fingers had sunk into you, how you had let them. Fuck it was so stupid, Kyle’s fingers had been inside you but he was getting jealous of the intimacy of another mans fingers even touching you.
He was driving himself a little crazy going over your last interaction with him, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. You had been fine, you had even laughed when he had made a cutesy little smiley face on your omelette with ketchup. He wasn’t about to pretend that you were happy being kept by them like this, but he was so sure you had been beginning to settle. Him and Soap were going to wait until Simon was back and then make their case to him and Price that they should talk to you about giving you some freedom. They couldn’t let you just run to the police, but what if they built you your own place? Just like your little cottage. They thought they could make you happy with that for the time being, work on it until maybe you’d like to move somewhere far away with them. Then they could take you out on dates without incriminating themselves. They just needed to convince you that you wanted to go on them. And somehow he had fucked it all up. 
The light knock on his door had him out of the bed in record time to answer. He knew how a knock sounded for people, and that was too light to be Ghost or Price (Soap never knocked, fucking git that he was). He should have tried to be more cool and collected but he wrenched open the door and just flustered for a moment at you standing there in pjs. Fuck you were pretty. You looked tired still, but calm, he suspected Price had probably given you what you needed. 
“I… um. Can I come in?”
He nodded rapidly and stood aside to let you wander into his room. You seemed maybe a little nervous, but at least not scared of him. He hated that you had been scared of him. He hated not being able to figure out why.
“Are you-”
“I wanted-”
You both paused and there was a moment of each of you trying to get the other to go first until Kyle sighed and very gently moved you to sit on his bed so he could crouch in front of you, taking both your hands in his.
“Are you ok luv?”
“Tired. John gave me the soup you made, it was nice.”
He had fed you after he had rewired your brain with the absolute leathering he had given your ass. You were pretty sure you had cried during, but it was all a little hazy. It was a stupid thing to do, but you found you trusted him. Hard not to when he had climbed into the bath with you, washed your hair and gently dried and moisturised you after without once trying to take advantage.
You had nearly choked spying on him when you were supposed to be undressing for the bath, watching through the crack in the bathroom door to his room as he leaned his forearm heavily against the wall and quickly jacked himself off. Fuck, you knew he had done it because he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be getting hard with you naked in his arms and you had to throw cold water on your face to try and pretend you weren’t flushed with the thought that he wanted you that badly but wouldn’t do anything to you even in your vulnerable state. Made it hard not to trust him really. You had been suddenly glad for how utterly exhausted you were because while your body had made an attempt at getting you aroused it had been overpowered by bone tiredness.
Instead you had let him take care of you and pull you into his arms in bed. And you had finally talked. You told him what you had overheard and he told you that without a shadow of a doubt you had misunderstood. He’d even offered to knock their heads together for even accidentally frightening you like that. And you were so thoroughly out of emotions, so run through with the events of the day, that you couldn’t find it in you to not just believe him. He hadn't stopped you when you had mumbled that you wanted to see Kyle, he had just pressed his lips to your hair and let you go. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“I thought you and Johnny were going to kill me. I overheard you in the kitchen,” you answered, no energy for anything but blunt honesty.
Kyle took a moment to figure out what the fuck you were talking about and then groaned and hid his head in your joined hands. 
“Fuck. Oh fuck. I should have thought about how that would sound with you right in the next room, I’m sorry, it wasn’t anything like what you’re thinking, it- well we-”
You squeezed his hands to get him to look at you again.
“S’ok. I’d just like to sleep if that’s ok.”
He wasn’t going to argue with you when you were sat in his bed, when you wanted to share it. So he just smiled and let you crawl under the covers so he could slot in right behind you. 
He fit there. 
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auspicioustidings · 4 months
Note
141 fighting each other to be the one whose lap reader sits on during a meeting or smth
CONGRATS ON 1kkkk
Thanks <3 Please find silly nonsense below!
Tomfoolery Senses
Words: 1k
CWs: Slightly spicy but nothing explicit
Honestly you shouldn’t even be on base, not with your knee being how it was. It was annoying as hell that the recovery time meant you were out of the field for the foreseeable, but they still needed you. You may not be able to run around with a gun right now, but tactical was always your strong point anyway so for now you attended meetings and made plans.
You walked into one such meeting and your tomfoolery senses immediately went off. There were too many glinting eyes for them not to have pulled something, and when you went to sit down you nearly laughed out loud at the bloody audacity. No empty seats. Strange since there should be some, almost as if someone had relocated them beforehand specifically for some ridiculous purpose.
“Ye can sit here bonnie!”
It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Soap was very much patting his lap in excitement. The last time you had ended up in that man's lap his hand had wandered during the entire meeting. You recalled being a mess by the end of it and Soap being very much like the cat who got the cream about it because he knew it meant when he followed to your room like a puppy you would let him in.
“Move your arse MacTavish, I’m injured and I need the seat.”
“Wouldnae dream of it! As ye’ll recall, I also have a dodgy knee. Only right for us tae stick together.”
“Surely you’re not asking them to sit on your dodgy knee then Johnny? Come on sweetheart, right here.”
You gave Ghost a bemused look. Soap you expected this from, but him? Actually no, you had very much been overwatch for 141 missions, this is exactly the kind of nonsense you expected of this idiot.
“Now I would love to, but weren’t you just telling me about your bad back? I seem to remember something about needing me to massage it. It would be irresponsible of me to risk making it worse.”
“Your massage fixed it right up actually" he replied, large hand patting thick thigh in further invitation.
You rolled your eyes. Your “massage” had lasted about a minute with you sincerely giving it your best effort before he had pinned you down and given you a very thorough massaging of his own. Only that one had done the opposite of fixing your back, if anything you'd say he had in fact blown it out.
“That so? You were complaining about it right before they walked in” Gaz said, smug as anything even while Ghost glared over at him.
“He's a lying git luv, obviously just looking to get a gorgeous thing in his lap. My lap, however, is neutral.”
You knew for a fact his lap was not neutral, not one bit. His lap was very much the kind of lap that you found yourself bouncing on anytime he got you alone and charmed you right into it. You could be in the middle of a training exercise, fully in the zone, and next thing you knew you were stuffed full of Kyle bloody Garrick in the middle of a safehouse where anyone could wander in at any moment. It wasn't like you were a big risk taker, but he could make you think anything was a good idea.
“A veritable Switzerland I'm sure.”
“Safest place to be really.”
“Look me in the eye and say that with a straight face then.”
Soap and Ghost groaned in tandem as you made the mistake of looking at Gaz. That bloody sunshine smile could sell ice in the Arctic and as such everyone usually avoided eye contact when they knew he wanted something. Charisma score above 20 that boy. Honestly these fuckers were the worst, but oh Gaz's big brown eyes were just smiling so gently at you and surely he would never do anything untoward. How could you look at this man and think he would ever manipulate you?
“Corporal, come ‘ere, that's an order.”
Gaz's sunshine expression turned to one of wry disbelief. He had been so close, you had been about to take a step towards him. It was awfully unsportsmanlike for Price to pull rank, something Gaz would be holding against him.
“So much for honour.”
“Cheeky fucker.”
“Just taking the piss Captain.”
It wasn't completely unfounded for Price to use his rank to get what he wanted when it came to you, it was why usually the others would try to get you away from him. Ghost did it sometimes too if he wasn't there and the Sergeants were. Although he didn't use it quite as thoroughly as Price did once he got you alone. The Captain was always happy to give you orders if only so he could punish you when you bit back, which you did often. Not because you enjoyed the punishment, that certainly wasn't it. You could not supply another reason, but that was besides the point.
“Well I suppose I have to since you're the Captain, unless there was someone that technically had more authority to give me orders” you said with a grin.
“Come on now pet, don't be like that, just come sit and we can start the meeting hm?” he said, using that voice that was right in the middle of soothing dominance and rough command in a last ditch effort.
“Of course Captain, just want to clear it with command first.”
Price sighed, glancing over and seeing that he had lost the fight when he was met with Kate's sly little smile. She was often your saviour when it came to these men. It helped that her and her lovely wife were both sweet on you. They had invited you round for dinner once or twice, and suffice to say the very delicious home cooked meals were not the only thing getting eaten. If there was one thing the men in the 141 hated more than losing to one another, it was losing to Laswell. She was always so annoyingly smug about being your favourite.
As you settled right down in her lap and both the meeting and Kate's hands gently massaging at your waist started, the 141 collectively thought that next time they'd better bring you a damn chair.
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auspicioustidings · 2 months
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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1
Winsome Wee Thing
Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage
Parts: 1 2 3
You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately. 
For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.
“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”
“That’ll do.”
There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little. 
“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”
“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”
“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”
“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”
Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.
Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition. 
If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door. 
He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey. 
If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him. 
“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”
For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.
“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”
“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”
Ridiculous man.
“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”
“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”
His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.
The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).
By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.
“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.
You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number. 
“Open the door.”
Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin. 
John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl. 
“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. 
“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”
Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates. 
“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”
The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.
“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time. 
“Wanted?”
He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home. 
“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”
Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?
“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”
Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that. 
“I really like you too.”
Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.
Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).
You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter. 
He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.
A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.
You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another. 
At least until Las Almas.
You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings. 
It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.
You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.
It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you. 
You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful. 
Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you. 
He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.
You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.
Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you. 
You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time. 
Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking. 
You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey. 
A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.
Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.
Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.
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auspicioustidings · 8 months
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Intro
Hello from Scotland! You can call me Mhairi, she and they both work for me :)
This is a side blog for me to write nonsense, so if you see an ask or reply from ClumsyDragon, that is me! The content is going to be questionable, I trust that you can read tags and make sensible decisions about your own reading (note the MDNI, no under 18s please).
You can find me on Ao3 and ko-fi.
Asks/requests are open. I write CoD, but if you want to see another fandom just ask, I'll let you know if I can write for it. If I don't answer your ask, it's because I could not think of anything for it!
I tag any of my fics with mhairiwrites to make it easier to find. I tag little ideas and drabbles with mhairidrabbles. If I'm just talking about me or ever posting photos of myself it'll be tagged it'smhairi. If you want to ignore everything but proper fics, this blog only reblogs those and nothing else.
Happy reading! Some easy navigation below the cut.
Ae Fond Kiss - Fake Death Johnny - 1 , 2, 3
Blue Blood - Knight/Royalty AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Firewatch - Firefighter AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
Satin and Lace - Pirate AU - 1
Services/Goods of Equivalent Value - Teashop AU - 1, 2, drabbles labelled mhairidrabblesteashop
Various AUs - 1
Mandatory Dungeons and Dragons- D&D Game AU - 1
Make your own way home - Post MW3 AU (SPOILERS) - 1
Wine Talking - Ghoap Retirement AU - 1
Domming the shit out of Ghoap - 1
Slow Burn oc x tf141 - ao3
*Lost Boys AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
*Savage - Warrior Ghoap AU - 1, 2
Bannockburn - CnC with bf Soap - 1
*Catholic Horror nonsense - 1, 2
Genderplay with Soap - 1
The Revelation - Cult Leader!Reader x Ghoap - 1
*content in these ones is darker and leaning more into the characters being monstrous so keep that in mind when you decide what to read
CoD men who just kidnap wives - original & #mhairidrabblescodkidnappers
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
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Bannockburn
Summary: Your boyfriend Johnny has come home in a strange mood, and you are about to get your shit rocked at Bannockburn.
Technically, if you squint, a sequel to Savage set just over 700 years later. Like I will perhaps write a proper sequel at some point, but you can blame Bunny for this one.
Words: 3.6k
CW: CNC, smut, implied character death
You were getting nervous. You were getting really nervous. There were two Johnny’s and you never knew what one you were getting when he came home from a mission. Most of the time you got your Johnny, sweet and loving and tackling you to the bed with a laugh while he showed you how much he missed you. But sometimes whatever happened out on mission got his blood up. Whatever he usually did to get himself settled and out of war mode didn’t take. Sometimes you got the Savage Johnny, the one who heard your English accent and became more animal than man. The one who went into such thick Scots that you hardly understood what he was growling into your ear as he took you. 
Usually you knew what Johnny you had the moment he walked through the door. Not this time. This time he seemed like he was boiling with energy under the surface, but he kissed you nonetheless and ate dinner with you and held you as you slept. When he got you both up and packed into the car the next morning for a trip you had the sense to at least be a little worried. Now, hand held in his as you listened to the guide, you had some inkling that you might be in for it. 
“Now King Edward the second invaded as a result of Bruce’s demand to his people to recognise him as their King. He summoned 25,000 infantry and 2000 horses, the largest ever army to invade Scotland. Bruce only had command of 6000 men.”
You could feel the blood draining from your face as the guide went further into the background of the battle. Around about the time she briefly mentioned how Wallace had been hanged, drawn and quartered, limbs displayed in different cities, just shy of ten years before the Battle of Bannockburn, you absolutely knew what Johnny you had on your hands. And this Johnny? There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this Johnny. This Johnny was taking in every word, ready to punish you for your ancestors' transgressions against his. 
You were trying to pay attention, but your eyes were darting around trying to pinpoint any little nooks that might spell danger if he got you in them. Only that was dangerous in itself, because the first time you felt your attention drift from what was being said Johnny had let go of your hand and moved to instead hold you firm by the back of the neck, fingers massaging a little too hard in warning. That got you to pay rapt attention to all of it, to the whole history of the Scottish wars of Independence as it related to Bannockburn. 
It was strange sometimes, you and Johnny. There were times like now when you would be learning about the history of your countries and it felt like some long forgotten memory. There were times when you met his Lieutenant and swore you knew him from somewhere. Like there was some ancient part of you that trusted them when they fought together to watch each other's backs. No matter what Johnny you got, you held such a deep love for him that it scared you sometimes. Your heart twisted as they described what the battle would have been like for the soldiers, the sights and sounds and weapons. It must have been awful. 
You were stuck on it. Stuck on the image of a Johnny with a sword on the battlefield. That was your mistake, zoning out and just following along when he led you out to the grounds. Only when you had been walking for a while did you realise how far you were getting from the safety of a building full of people.
“Where are we going?”
“Dinae pay any attention at all did ye? Must naw have been interesting tae ye learning about how my people battered yours when they tried tae grind us intae nothing.”
“No, I was paying attention. Of course I was” you said, trying to be meek and quell some of his building fury. 
“Couldnae even hunt a bunny without some English noble claiming it wisnae our right. Punishing us” he ranted before turning to you with a feral look in his eye. “Cannae stop me from hunting one right now though can they? Ye going tae run for me wee bunny?”
Fuck. He looked ready to tear into your throat with his teeth. You felt every bit a prey animal, eyes darting around to find a way out of this. The woods. There were woods here. That was where he had been leading you while you had been busy getting stuck on the idea of him as some ancient warrior fighting to the death. Gillies Hill. The guide had told you about it, how the Scottish had made their camp here. It was where they had attacked from.
And it was where you found yourself sprinting through, heart pounding. Your logical mind knew it was a mistake, you running only meant he could chase. You should have just stayed where you were, tried to talk him down. You were stumbling and tripping, trying to get your bearings as the woods became dense around you. Every snap of a twig or sway of a branch sent you darting away in the other direction until you were shaking from exhaustion and no small amount of mounting terror.
You had never been hunted like this. Johnny had been rough with you before in the warmth of your own home, had fucked you into the bed like he was trying to mould you permanently to him. But this was a different creature entirely. This was the monster under the surface that you only caught glimpses of, that you never thought you would meet face to face. The woods were silent of another human, had you managed to escape him?
“Yer naw even trying little bunny, ye want me tae catch ye is that it? Slut.”
His breath was hot on your ear and you choked on any response you had tried to come up with. How had he gotten right behind you without a sound? You were running again, tripping and scraping your knees but clawing your way back to your feet to keep going. The little summer dress was not suited for this, but at least you were wearing boots. At least Johnny had told you to wear boots this morning. 
It was with a sickening dread that you realised he had planned this. He knew you would be running from him, knew he wanted you in a dress for easy access but boots for fleeing into the woods. At least you knew that your Johnny was still in there somewhere, enough to care about you not breaking an ankle. Not enough to care about breaking you in other ways. 
“Aww wee English princess got her knees all scraped up? All yer kinfolk are going tae ken how ye love getting on them for good Scottish cock when they see the marks. Wee whore down in the dirt fucking gagging on it, crying over how much ye love it.”
You couldn’t properly tell what direction his voice was even coming from. The shame of his words was flooding you with a sickly humiliation that only increased when your body reacted differently to how it should have. When you throbbed with need for him. 
“I’m not! That isn’t what’s happening!”
You were flustered and scared and needy and felt like you were yelling at nothing as you kept catching sight of him on your periphery only to turn and find nobody there. 
“Naw? Slick is practically running down yer plush fucking thighs princess, bet yer clenching down on nothin’. Dinnae even have tae catch ye dae I? Could just wait until ye come crawling tae me, begging me tae claim ye. Fucking pleading for it right here, right where my army celebrated before decimating yours.”
His words sent a shiver up your spine. Out here felt removed from time, it really did feel like you were betraying something by finding yourself drawn to this savage. By imagining that his prediction would prove true, that you’d beg for him. You couldn’t, it would be too much, too shameful. So you kept stumbling through the woods even when the deep tenor of his voice rang through in a mocking little song.
God he had translated this for you once. Told you that brose and butter was a euphemism, that it was about fucking a girl full of cum. It had made you blush and laugh at the time when he playfully sang it over to you now that you understood the meaning, but now? Fuck now it just scared the hell out of you with how the words were tinged with a promise. This was hardly playful, he really meant to hold you down and shove himself inside you out here in the woods where anyone could walk by. 
“We can’t! John please, not here” you pleaded, pausing to try and find where he was. “I… you were gone for months, I’ve not…”
He had made you promise before he left that you’d save yourself for him, wouldn’t even put your own fingers inside yourself while he was gone. And you hadn’t. Fuck you would be so tight now, not ready for him to take you hard. Had he known even then that this was the plan?
“Maiden are ye? Scared it’s going tae hurt, princess? It will, did they naw teach ye that we’re animals? We dinnae treat wee English lassies the way yer own men would. Ye’ll get treated the way ye should, like a fucking whore. And ye’ll take it won’t ye? Ye’ll take it wherever I want tae give it tae ye.”
Fuck, you were starting to slip away to whereever he was. You were starting to feel less like yourself and more like the poor English maiden being hunted by the enemy. The bunny being hunted by the hound. Starting to drift away into pure animal instinct, pure fear and arousal. You could hardly breathe now, feeling tears prick at your eyes.
“Please…” you sobbed quietly, not even sure what you were begging for.
And then he was there, towering over you and wrapping a hand around your throat, thumb beneath your chin to tilt your head and force you to look at him. 
“Wonder whit they’d think of ye begging so pretty for the enemy. Cannae help yerself can ye?” he said, as if fascinated by you, slipping his other hand up your dress and under your panties. “Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”
Your reaction to those words was violent and unexplainable. It made your legs shake and your pussy clench painfully hard. It was confusing how much it affected you, causing such a flood of wetness that Johnny noticed, his pupils dilating as he squeezed at your throat and laughed when that made you whimper and claw at his hand. He only kept on squeezing until you were starting to see stars.
“Dinnae fucking move princess.”
The pressure of his hands was gone in an instant and the flood of oxygen made you dizzy. There was no time for you to recover before he was on his knees in the dirt, treating your pussy like it was a mouth and sloppily kissing it over your panties. The press of his tongue was insistent and overwhelming, like he was trying to bully it past the fabric. When he ripped at your waistband with his teeth the lace tore. 
He continued his attack like he truly was a wolf sinking his teeth into a fresh meal, completely ruining your underwear until the mangled scraps fell to the floor and left you bare. Your hands were woven into his mohawk and you tried to pull him away, earning a growl that reverberated into your bones and a heavy handed smack to your ass before he assaulted your clit with tongue and teeth and spit. 
You felt yourself clench so hard that you almost felt nauseous. Fuck. You were trying to keep some sense of self, trying to remember that you were out in public and he was some feral version of the man you loved who was saying horrible things to you and promising he was going to hurt you. But there was a creeping haze taking over, turning you dumb for him. 
It wasn’t even something you had been aware was happening when you came on his tongue. It was just sensation, just the desperate need for more. The primal desperation to be fuller even as he pushed his tongue into your over sensitive hole while your walls fluttered through the pleasure of that high.  
“Please, need you.”
“Aye, that right? Needy wee slut.”
You were too far gone to notice that while he was rough in getting you onto your back in the dirt, one hand was gentle in cradling your head to make sure it landed softly. 
“Use those pretty wee words. Ask me for it the way ye’d ask a good English man.”
Ask me for it the way ye’d ask Simon.
When all you could do was wriggle underneath him and whine he grabbed the neckline of your dress and yanked it down to let your breasts spill out, slapping hard at one and making you howl. 
“They naw teach ye how tae talk proper ye wee slut? Ask fucking nicely.”
“Please, please I want you inside me.”
“Aye, can tell that princess. Whit else?”
“Want you to cum inside me.”
“Good fucking girl, wisnae so hard now was it?”
He didn’t take any of his clothes off, just fished his hard cock from his jeans, hooked your knees on his shoulders and pressed into your wet heat in one fluid motion. You both groaned as he bottomed out. It had been so long, you were so fucking tight around him. 
“M’so full, thank you thank you ,m’yours, need you. Fuck, ah. Made for you, it’s so much” you rambled, incoherent in your bliss. 
“There she is, needed this naw? Needed my cock deep in this tight wee English cunt. Cannae be a person without it, it’s whit ye were made for. Fucking built tae be on yer back with yer legs open for me.”
He stayed like that for what felt like forever, the fullness pushing any coherent thought out of your head. Fuck he was so deep like this, with you nearly folded in half. It felt like you were choking on his dick. You were clawing at the dirt by your sides so hard that you thought your fingers might bleed, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head before they could.
You were so cock drunk that you were only distantly aware of the look in his eyes now, the almost obsessive adoration as he took in how you looked pressed into the earth like this, dress rucked up from the bottom and pulled down from the top, palm print visible from where he had slapped at you, knees by your ears, hands pinned over your head and yet despite it all so blissed out you were salivating and babbling at him how you needed him.
When he pulled all the way out to the tip and then slammed back home you choked on the wind being knocked right out of you. It only encouraged him as he started to fuck you hard and deep, taking him time to make sure every thrust settled him so incredibly deep inside of you that you were floating. 
“Braw wee creature aren’t ye? Feart of me and gagin’ fer it anyway. Dinnae fash bonnie, gettin’ yer hole proper.”
You knew vaguely that he was close because you could hardly understand what he was saying. You were so unable to do anything in this position, no leverage on your arms and legs that you could use to pull him closer. 
“Inside, need it inside. Please, please ah!” you cried, no shame left in so as you begged like a bitch in heat for him to cum inside you. 
He shifted and sped his pace, nailing that spongy spot inside you that was making your vision black out with every thrust. You’d have marks on you from the buttons and zipper of his jeans. You’d have marks on your throat and your wrists, on your tits. He needed more, he needed anyone to take one look at you and know who you belonged to.
“‘at’s it, take it. Fuck. Good lass” he groaned as he sunk his teeth into your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, clamping down on his cock.
He jackhammered into you, forcing his way in while your pussy tried to force him out. The tight heat of it was too much and he growled and stilled after one more brutal thrust had him cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, the painful stretch from being folded as you were a delicious burn with the extra pressure forcing you to stretch further. 
You stayed like that for a while, both panting. Only when you were slowly coming back to your senses did you feel a sharp pain in your back from what must have been a particularly jagged stone. Ah, you thought you were probably bleeding on it, feeling something sticky. 
“Bannockburn” you breathed out softly.
The pressure was off of you almost immediately and he let go of your wrists and kneeled up, pulling out with a soft sigh leaving both of you at the feeling. He was quick to tuck himself in before his hands were back on you, gentle this time, fixing your dress and rubbing at all the spots he had marked.
“C’mere bonnie, ye did so well. Hurting anywhere I need tae look at?”
He looked at your back when you told him, laying soft kisses of apology on you as he cleaned it up. You used to tease Johnny for the little first aid kit he always had strapped to the back of his jeans whenever you went out, but it was coming in incredibly handy. Your panties were toast and he sheepishly tucked the remnants of them into his pocket before getting you to unsteady feet. 
“Creeping Jesus, I’ve made a right mess out of ye” he said with a bashful sort of grin, doing his best to try and fix your hair. 
“Hmm, s’ok” you replied, still a little hazy. 
He kissed you soundly and then gave you an absolute squeeze of a cuddle before scooping you into his arms in a princess carry.
“Let’s get ye all tucked up in the car then we can have a bath and dinner when we’re home eh?”
You nodded and nuzzled into his chest to get comfortable. He would take care of you, he always did.
John MacTavish didn’t know how he got so lucky. Not any woman would be softly dozing off in his arms after what he had just put you through. Fuck you were beautiful all of the time, but when you were like this? Fucked out and marked up but achingly soft for him in the afterglow? Jesus, he loved you. He would love you forever, through lifetimes. 
He’d explain obviously, he should really have warned you how hard he was going to go, that should have been pre-negotiated. But he had been so wound up. Fucking Simon Riley and his little comments about you, winding him up by putting thoughts in his head about how demure an English man could get you. It should have just made him laugh and shove at him, instead it made his blood boil and his cock hard and he had taken it out on you. You had let him, you always did until either of you thought it wasn’t safe. 
He paused on his way out of the woods with you, considering waking you so you could see the little glade he had come upon. It was pretty as anything, almost felt like hallowed ground with a giant stone right in the middle. Something about it called to an ancient longing within him. Fuck. He wanted to marry you out here. Was that ridiculous? Maybe just post orgasm stupidity.
Still as he settled you in the car and took you home so he could love you properly, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Fuck, Johnny.”
Simon Riley was an Englishman through and through. Everytime he stepped into battle it was to strike down those who would oppose his King and country. Yet he had left the battlefield. He had tracked into the woods, to where he knew MacTavish had crawled off to die. He found him leant against the stone that sat in the centre of a glade. Of course this is where he would want to die. Not on the battlefield, but here. The place he had married you. The place they both had.  
“Ye come tae watch it for yerself Si?” Johnny said with a laugh that turned to a hacking cough. 
“Course. Been trying to kill you for years, not about to miss it.”
Simon sat next to him, both of them looking at the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful here. Maybe in another lifetime they would not have been enemies. Maybe in another lifetime they could have been brothers.
“Ye’ll look after her until I can find her again?”
“Always.”
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