#you know just in case he decides to lower the price

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[mockerycrow]

Could you do Head canons of how 141 + König would react to reader flinching at their movements? Like they raise their hand/arm and reader kind of cowers away?

I found your page tonight and LOVE how you write them! Keep up the amazing work and thank you💖

141 + König Reactions To GN!Reader Flinching

cod masterlist

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH IM KICKING AND GIGGLING RN ILY ANON I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 400!! i also feel very iffy about this aaghhhdhfjcj

I’m having a 400 follower celebration!

-> John Price

He raises his arm quickly to grab something from a top shelf and that’s when he spots your flinch—your arm comes shooting up like you’re about to grab said arm, your eyes slightly wide. Price pauses and you quickly lower your arm, clearing your throat like nothing happened, like that didn’t just happen.

if you’re military; I don’t think he would be too concerned because it’s quite common for soldiers who have been through traumatic battles to have insanely fast reflexes, to be ready at a moment’s notice. He does, however, nudge you a bit. You glance at him and Price raises his eyebrows and asks the silent question with his face—‘are you alright?’

if you’re a civilian; that’s when he gets properly worried. You have no reason to have that fast of a reflex, so he ends up staring at you for a moment. Price doesn’t ask you about it in the moment, but he makes sure to keep his movements slower around you and he gives himself a reminder to gently ask about it later—just in case it’s sensitive.

-> Kyle Garrick

You and Kyle are walking in the local park when this happens. An American football is thrown and strays from it’s course and Kyle notices a flying object coming near. His hands fly up and catch the football in an instant and you couldn’t help but flinch, putting your own hand up to grab his in a defensive position.

if you’re military; Kyle throws the football back and quietly apologizes to you with a kiss to your temple; he knows all too well about having your instincts triggered by normal everyday life. It’s not that big of a deal in hindsight, but he knows how it is.

if you’re a civilian; Kyle throws the football back and asks if you’re alright, at first he isn’t sure if he accidentally hit you or not by the way you reacted. You quietly confirm you’re alright and Kyle looks at you with a concerned face when you’re dodging his eyes a bit. You sigh. “Later, I promise.”

-> John MacTavish

You and Soap decided to go out to a rage room together for fun. You get suited up and fix your goggles onto your face, giggling at how Soap looks. He hums and picks out a baseball bat—he doesn’t realize how close you are to him when he swings the baseball bat up and violently smashes a vase.

if you’re military; Soap is profusely apologizing, one for not looking out and two because he knows these actions can come off as aggressive. “M’so sorry, bonnie! Didnae see you there, are you alright??” Soap makes sure everything is alright and he makes sure there’s a good distance next swing.

if you’re a civilian; He apologizes to you, but this time he doesn’t really realize you might’ve flinched for a different reason. You were standing a bit too close so he would likely think it’s from the swing, but he would check in on you anyway, loud with his apologies.

-> Ghost

He is oddly silent for his size, so it’s a common occurrence for him to accidentally sneak up on you and often make an announcement of his appearance with movement. Your hand comes shooting out when you finally notice him next to you and your fingers wrap around his wrist, your eyes wide, like an animal being hunted—just for a second. You quickly let go of his wrist with an apology.

if you’re military; he would probably tease you on needing to brush up your detection skills and listen a little closer, but it’s not like he’d purposely keep doing it to get at you. Ghost would also chalk it up to your military instincts.

if you’re a civilian; this is where Ghost gets worried because he knows the signs of abuse. Even if you’re just a very flinchy person, that doesn’t stop him from subtly hinting that you can help him anything important. I imagine Ghost a bit emotionally constipated so he struggles to outright say it, but he’s in your corner if you need him.

-> König

You two were walking down the base’s sidewalk together and you were about to go ahead, forgetting to look both ways. König’s arm suddenly shoots out in front of you to stop you, resulting in your hands hastily grabbing his arm, nearly shoving it away from you. You quickly let go and clear your throat.

if you’re military; könig would apologize to you for startling you, he knows how jumpy people can be after long missions but it was necessary to keep you safe. He would definitely eye a you little longer due to your wide eyed look, and maybe he would ask you about that later if he begins to overthink the situation.

if you’re a civilian; He would apologize immensely and claim that it was for your safety, asking if he startled you and that he’s sorry. If you’re a bit winded from the sudden action, he definitely notices. König asks softly if he can talk to you about important stuff later that day because he needs to know why you reacted that way and how he can prevent that reaction.

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ MOVEMENT ✦ SATORU GOJO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Satoru Gojo decides to make the last session of this contractual relationship memorable for you, by doing what he does best, that is, bending the limits and breaking the rules and in that process, he hurts more than one heart.

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ non-sorcerer au + bdsm au, bdsm terminology, contractual sex, explicit sexual scenes, mutual pinning, hurt and angst with slight comfort, bondage ( shibari ), Gojo is domme here, sub!reader, mention of safeword and sex toys, slight age gap, gojo is in his pushing thirties reader is twenty-five, tattoo artist!reader, aftercare, angst and fluff; 5,6k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross posted to ao3. |

Perfection is a stage that every creature strives to achieve. A witch tries to devise an evergreen spell for immortality, a lion tries to hunt for an elephant, a bird tries to fly during rainstorms, and an alchemist tries to create a philosopher’s stone— there is no end to it. It is always the most impossible, the oddest feat to achieve. 

So, Satoru Gojo believes that perfection is nothing but a state of mind; to think about achieving something impossible, but that is not where it ends. 

Achieving the impossible is not the end of the road toward perfection, there is always a price that one has to pay. In most cases, it is either the slow painful death or death at an unexpected moment of life, if not death then the skill of achieving perfection is stripped off and now, the creature stands amongst others in shame and sadness, for instance, a witch might lose all her powers after receiving immortality left with eternal desolation and abandonment at the end, a lion might die while hunting for an elephant despite being at the top of the food chain, a bird might lose its feathers and an alchemist might lose their sanity in the pursuit of perfection. Despite such irrevocable loss at the end of such a bumpy and rocky road, people still pursue perfection. They are all chasing nothing but a mirage, how silly!

Satoru Gojo does not understand the idea of a perpetual flow of zeal to achieve such greatness. He never tries to do the impossible, he just does what he is capable of and that alone earns him every bow of a person that he has ever come across, and applause from people with puny ambitions. They think Satoru Gojo is perfect. The cacophony of such praises makes his head ache because, in the end, they are all for nothing but hollow, laced with some ultimate gain underneath. But at the same time, he can not deny the idea of the existence of such perfection either. If he were to deny this slightest possibility of such perfection, he would deny someone’s existence.

Satoru is lying on the bed with half of his body hanging outside the bed. His feet are on the ground while his cyan galactic eyes just stare at the starlight ceiling of this room. He is more than capable than most other men to make someone see stars yet you specifically moved into his house only on one condition, that is, to have a starlight ceiling. What a stinging mockery! His teeth find refuge in the inner flesh at one corner of his lower lip as a vision flashes in his mind. You, laying on your back on this same bed but hands tied together with just his tie and resting at the belly button while his deft fingers push a vibrator inside you. Fully dressed in a pearly white sundress, under the blue lighting, you look nothing less than some fairy god. If such a being were to exist he would say you looked perfect that night.

His phone chimes. Twice. Two different notifications. He jumps out of bed at the second walking towards the side table to check his phone. He is not supposed to be here, according to the rules of his contract with you, in your room. But Gojo has always been the breaker of rules; not all but the rules of which one is the most unaware. For instance, you would not even know that he has been in your room while you are not here, while you are busy with your day. But he is here for a reason not because he wanted to break some grey rules. He unplugs his phone from your charger.

‘One week before the contract terminates’

Satoru turns off the lights and saunters out of your room. One week. Seven days. One sixty-eight hours out of which he can only see you during nights, and play with you only at weekends. This arrangement has been going on for almost two months now; this is the last week he gets to spend with you and the last weekend for his play with you; after that, he will ask you to meet at some cafe to discuss the extension of this contract. Everything is going to be perfect. He does not want to admit how perfect you are in every way simply because he might end up doing something detrimental to this contractual relationship. It shocks him, sometimes terrifies him how you are exactly the person he concocted at one corner of his heart. That is what he liked most about you: you were fearlessly flexible.

Satoru’s jaw dropped when you said you were okay with him if he kept another sub or even a lover. At first, he thought you were bluffing but with a man like him tricks never run out of stock and not once he sensed jealousy in you. Talking with you was liberating be it on the phone or in person. You never invaded his space, his life yet asked the questions that you needed to know as his sub. Sometimes he would think about what it would take to make you feel uneasy, feel vulnerable, feel that everything was crashing down like a centuries-old castle as you desperately needed something to hold on to, someone to cling onto. It is too soon to let a sub like you go. So, he definitely wants to extend his contract with you: no second thoughts about that. Everything was perfect before, being with you, spending time with you, sending you surprise gifts, hearing your squeals of happiness— everything was perfect, what could possibly go wrong? And even if it does, he can handle it. There is nothing that is beyond the grasp of one of the richest bachelors of Tokyo.

It is half past eight and you will be here around ten o’clock. But before that, he needs to check his playroom, set everything right, and prepare dinner. Satoru makes himself busy in the kitchen. He revisits his memories of you, searching for what you like to eat and what you do not. For the past two months at weekends either you cooked along with him or ordered via takeout or had a chance for takeaway. So, he never got a chance to show how good he was with his hands in the kitchen. A low humming escapes his mouth as he starts to gather the ingredients; at first, he needs short-grain rice, vinegar, salt, sugar, and water. He sets the rice for it to cook and meanwhile, prepares the other set of ingredients for the filling. The clock strikes nine, the doorbell chimes and Satoru’s eyebrows grow closer. He walks towards the main door to check the screen and the line of confusion on his forehead vanishes. Both of your hands are full of bags and other accessories. He wonders how you even ring the doorbell before opening the door.

“You are early,” Satoru remarks as he holds the door letting you walk inside his house. You look around and steadily walk towards the kitchen. Satoru follows you a little bit offended from not getting any response from you. Keeping a packet on the counter you wash your hands. “What's this?” he asked standing near the counter.

“Food.” You supply making yourself comfortable on one corner of the counter. Satoru rolls his eyes. 

“You are early,” He repeats. This time more emphasis on ‘early’ to hear the explanation you are to give, that is, if there is one. He has this habit of repeating his sentences, sometimes a word to assert dominance but he never says sorry twice; at least never with you.

“Ummm, thanks to your friend who cancelled the tattoo appointment at the last minute” You open the lid of the pot and smell the aroma of fresh cooking. “Otherwise I would have been quite late.”

“What friend?”

“The one and only, who told you about my tattoo parlour, what was his name again? Geto. Getou-san.”

“You forget the name of a guy like that?” He hands you a glass of water. It is half-chilled. A peal of laughter echoes in the kitchen. 

Satoru’s jaw relaxes, half in confusion and half in worry. He does not know why. “What?” he asks. You compose yourself and answer him. “You keep scolding me about my bad habits yet never fail to keep up with those.” You take a few sips of water, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth is half-parted trying to form any sort of defense to deflect the grave accusation you just made, that is, he is paying attention to the tiniest details even though they are deadly to both of you. 

He has always told you how having cold water is bad for your health, especially when you just come home. He is not a great fan of having meals at any time of the day ordered online, nor your habit of smoking but if you were to lit a cigarette now he would slide an ashtray from somewhere. Satoru drinks the rest of the water from your glass and keeps it in the sink. People generally love this kind of attention but it becomes a little bit hopeful in cases like these and for you, it is just tightening the knots of rope that Satoru has weaved around you these past two months. You are not here to get his attention nor guide his deep-rooted attachment tendencies towards you; you are here because of the contract.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You say holding a cigarette in between your teeth and searching your pockets for the lighter.

“Can’t it wait?” Satoru gives you a lighter, plucking it from one of the pockets of his loose boxers holding the fire for you. His upper body is naked. Even if you have seen him naked enough times to get used to it still you find it distracting. You inhale one full elongated stream of tobacco saying, “Oh sure it can.” He slides an ashtray taking it out from one of the cupboards magically. You scratch your temple out of frustration because the thing is, Satoru Gojo does not smoke. He hates that burning bitter aroma of tobacco yet every room in this house has an ashtray and a lighter. 

“You know what? I’ll just say it right now. It has been bugging me since yesterday.” You start and Satoru effortlessly drags you closer to his body, spreading your legs apart to stand in between them. “What the hell?” You screamingly gasp at such a sudden vicinity.

“Can’t it wait?” This time softer, voice husky but a whisper, a prayer. His toned muscular arms are now wrapped around your waist. “If you are really not tired, shall we go to the playroom or — he trails his hands from the column of your throat to your belly button and then plays with the hem of your skirt. His eyes follow and then halt.

“Playroom.”  You earn an enquiring glance from him. He hums. You jump off the counter and tactfully slip from his arms walking towards the playroom. “Would you prefer me naked, clothed or— you turn to see if he is following you or not only to find he is standing there like a statue gawking at you and drinking you in. “Umm. . .Satoru,” you call and then a flash of teeth sparks from his mouth. He walks towards you, grabbing you by your upper arm he leans towards you having his head in the nook of your shoulder. His lips move. You can feel it. It opens with a pop. You think he is going to say something, maybe something lewd but instead, the soft skin of his lips touches the base of your earlobe.

“No. You look perfect in that dress.” A rasp, a horse whisper, like casting a spell he gently kisses your neck and withdraws. “I’ll be there in five minutes. You can go and wait for me.” You nod unable to look at him. Sometimes Satoru invades your bones and veins through the gaps that you did not even know existed in you. 

“Look at me,” He orders, voice nothing mellowed like before. He notices you swallow before you turn your face to look at him. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you — on your lips —” he tugs at your hair curling one of the strands around his index finger “— you know that is totally off limits.”

Your pupils slide down onto his lips. “Of course not. I know you hate smokey kisses and breaths. Besides, I’m not very fond of breaking rules like you.” And you look up again at him to check his eyes. “Sir” you quip. Mmmmm. He definitely thought of kissing on the lips just now. 

You enter the playroom and as you turn on the lights you notice a vibrator, a blue rope kept on the bed, and a giant teddy bear with red ropes tangled all over its body. He has been practicing. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait. You wait since that is all you have to do now, no changing of clothes or stripping them off. You remember that before coming here you went in your room to keep your belongings and get a quick bathroom refresh but the fact that you found the charger head warm is bugging you more than it should. You would not have known if you did not have to put your phone on charge. Plus, you never keep the switch on when the charger is not in use.

The door opens with a ‘clank’ and you jolt as you turn.

“God. It's just me, Eve.” Right Eve. Eve and Adam. Adam and Eve. He never fails to remind you of the embarrassing story of how you two met every time he is in the playroom with you. You watch him keep a ball gag and a few free love balls. He is gathering toys, moving from one end to the other so fast that you have not had the proper chance to see him and why would you not? He is fully dressed. He looks inexplicably elegant when dressed this neatly. He drags the table towards the bed where you are seated at arm's length of his.

“Now,” He starts grabbing your hands and guiding you beneath a specific lighting. You look up to notice various extensions and slots for hanging bondage. “Today I will not be using a blindfold on you.”  He says and turns towards you. You tilt your head in shock and fear while his hands tie yours in the hanging bondage. In all previous plays, you kept your eyes closed with a blindfold. It is not against the rule of your contract to play without the blindfold but to think he would do it like this was beyond your calculations. You have added this rule, “Blindfold on” against his “No kiss on the lips.” rule but omitting such clause for the sake of play is not your hard limit, the emotional turmoil that comes after is enough to make you feel suffocated. 

“I want you to know everything I do to you today since this is our last session. I’ve tried on myself first but you must know that, by now I know how to just touch you, how tight to make your ropes, and how hard to make each hit.” He continues explaining. Your hands are now hanging tied by the wrist. He takes a step backward standing with his hands tucked over his waist. “And I’ll only do what you have agreed to.”

“Any questions?” You nod and exclaim with a firm tone, “No, Ser Adam.” He cocks a brow and turns around. You watch him put a black mask over his eyes. Grabbing the prussian blue rope he starts to tie it around your upper body. It does not take him long to have you under the tangled form of beautiful knots. Your breaths have already started to become heavy. He puts the ball gag around your mouth as he speaks about another crucial point. “For today's session, I want you to maintain eye contact. I know it might be difficult for you to keep up at first because in our previous sessions, you requested to keep the mask on your eyes but today we are doing something different,” He takes two free love balls from the table.

“The ball of your gag is edible. Since you can’t use your safe word in this session, not while having a gag on your mouth. Just bite it and I’ll immediately stop.” He walks towards you close enough to let his breath fan over you. You look up. Curiosity courses through your veins and you lick the ball. It tastes sweet. Of course. “ However, if you eat it just out of curiosity, then I’ll have to punish you. And we both know you are not very fond of those,” 

You can't help but smile at how he can read your thoughts. “I was late to the playroom because I went to change the ball to an edible one.”  Now he is giving you an explanation of something that you did not need to know. Seeing your eyebrows pinch, Satoru asks, “So, shall we start?”

You nod. He sits down and removes your underwear. Lacy and white in colour. His gaze finds you telling you to get out of your underwear. You have no idea how perfect your outfit is for today’s play. He had bought a set of crop tops and a skirt for this specific play that he had in mind but seeing you walking in a knee-length medium skirt and off-shoulder top made his heart flutter. The skirt is too long for his taste but it will do. Besides, he can take it off anytime he wants.He stands up and puts your panty in his pocket and your eyes dilate at his act. You have come across certain forms of the behavioural pattern of several dommes. But sometimes, Satoru fits in that and sometimes, he breaks it. As the contract is coming to an end, he is breaking more than fitting into them.

He encircles you one time running his hands over your clothed body making you twist and turn your head in shivers of pleasure. Standing behind you he holds your waist, quite firmly and places one of his shoe-covered feet aligned with yours. He slips his foot in between the gap of your feet and spreading them apart he cups your vagina. “Oh don’t be so wet already. I have not even started it.” He runs his fingers through your folds a few times before extending them in front of your face to show you how turned on you are. Then, he holds two metal small balls in between his fingers. It was like a magic trick when he flicked his hands and those turned up. So, that is why the outfit, the mask.

“The same rules apply as before. I’ll put them inside your pussy and if you manage to keep them while I play with you, I reward you. If you do not, I — he pauses rolling the metal ball from up your nape down to your spine and then over your ass — “I get to fuck you.” he says pushing a ball into your hole. “I’ve four of them.” he whispered those words into your ear creating shivers down your spine. He changed the last part. In earlier sessions, he always said that he would punish you. Now, if you can not manage to hold up without dropping any of them he will fuck you, but if you can he will reward you, he said. 

Satoru walks around you to face you. You look at him, at his eyes as he pushes the second ball into you. Taking out other love two balls out of his pocket, he sits down again and pushes them inside. He kisses your nipple while looking at you, retreats to gather saliva in his mouth, and then sucks off hard enough to leave a wet patch over your nipple. He repeats the same on the other nipple as you try to close your legs to keep those balls inside you.

“You are doing a great job. Impressive.” He praises as he ties another spreader bar to the ankle of your legs keeping them apart and making it hard for you to hold the balls inside you. “Oh do not look so displeased my Eve. . . The main trick is still up my sleeves.” He walks back toward the table and grabs the vibrator. Safeword was at the tip of your tongue and heart at the bottom of your throat. But you waited. The sound of vibration alone creates goosebumps on your skin but as he starts to touch it all over your body, you fail to keep up with your senses. Satoru watches your palms turn into fists, twist and curl as he places the vibrator over your belly and then onto your nipple again. He would love to see how you would keep up if he were to put the vibrator over your pussy. It would not hurt to try, would it now?

“Let me know if it's too much.” He whispers into your ear before dragging the vibrator over your spine and holding it onto your inner thighs. You whimper and squeal as your vision clouds. Squeezing your eyes shut, tears trickle down your cheeks. A smile spreads across Satoru’s face as you exceed his expectations. He increases the vibrating limit by one unit as he holds it over your wet pussy. Saliva has started to accumulate inside your mouth. It is so hard not to bite onto the ball and if you bite it too hard the shocks of pleasure will cease to flow. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples as he increases the vibrating limit again. Two more switches to go. 

You arch your head backward, body squirms as he detaches his mouth. You can feel the metal balls slipping. They might drop if Satoru decides to remove the vibrator. He watches your lips, your eyes, your body, and all movements of pleasure that he is causing you right now. Dragging the vibrator up your vagina to your belly button he starts to suck against the column of your neck.  His teeth sink into your skin at different spots giving birth to several bruises while he pushes the head of the vibrator inside your vagina. It is too much. You feel like you are going to explode or melt. Fuck, you do not even know which is it. The sound of the vibration fades, but the intensity does not rather it increases. Your eyes feel heavy, breaths irregular, and full of moans. You feel like you are going to faint but then you hear a voice, his voice. 

“Bite the fruit.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. Blue crystal clear eyes meet your cloudy ones. You drop your head finding that your ankles are free from the spreader bar. “Bite it.”  He demands as he pushes half of the vibrator inside you. All your senses are lithe, your teeth bite the ball into half and the other half is gobbled up by your dom. He pulls out the vibrator with a swing, throwing it on the ground making you cum. The balls fall one by one making noise as they hit the wooden floor but none of you seem to care as his lips wrap yours. His hands involuntarily find their way toward the hoops of the handcuffs so as to unbuckle them as his kiss intensifies. Tongue making its way, lips alternatively sucking and biting as he lets your arms fall. You curl them around his nape reciprocating his kiss with the same intensity. He takes you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso and that is when he realises what he has done.

“Y/N.” He pants vigorously, taking a seat on the bed with you on the lap. “I should not have done that.” He immediately starts to untie the knots of the shibari. You rest your head against his chest as he frees you from the knots. Satoru’s ears are warm, burning even. He kissed you. He fucking kissed you. The one rule that he should not have broken. You adjust your face at an angle to have your lips near his ears before you whisper, “Where is my reward?”

“What?”

“My reward?” you say backing up a bit to meet his gaze and laying your hand in front of him. “My reward.” He is so confused right now. Of course, he has every right to be. 

When Satoru puts two plus two, he protests, “You dropped the balls. Technically, I have the right to fuck you. Like now.” Sure the idea of him being inside you is tempting but not as much as him realising he broke one crucial rule.

“That was after you asked me to bite the fruit, the ball, and then took the other half in your mouth and then started kissing me— he put his hand over your mouth seeing you speak in one breath. 

“Okay. okay. I get it.” He notices your hands. They are bruised, and so is your neck. Shame kicks in his body. He pulls up your top a bit and sees the marks of the knot as well as the ropes. He thought it was too tight. “You need a nice bath.” He lets you stand on your feet. There is a theory going on in his head. If you choose to ignore the kiss, the violation of rules then you may have secretly violated some other rules and if you are bothered by it, you will retort the second time or maybe not. There is one way to find out. Satoru roughly holds your chin brushing his thumb over your lips. You close your eyes caving into his touch. The way you close your eyes, feel his touch, bloom like a lotus to absorb him like sunlight makes him wanna kiss you, absorb you whole, invade you so deeply, fill every corner with his scent that you find it hard to breathe. 

“Can I kiss you now?”

You open your eyes, bite his thumb, suck at it, and then pull out with a pop, “No” exhaling a heavy breath. You turn on your feet and start to walk towards the exit feeling your heart crack at such sincere fruitless attraction. But Gojo Satoru is not someone who will let anyone walk out on him, even if it is you, his eve. He quickly catches up to you and takes you onto his lap so as to carry you toward the bathroom.

“Oh, good god. What gives? I can walk by myself.” You retort yet your hand curls around his nape. Your nails scratch his undercut as he carries you to the bathroom with a stoic expression. As you two reach the bathroom, you notice everything is already prepared. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

You discard your clothes as his footsteps fade away. He is not acting strange per se ignoring his act of affection was not a good idea after all. He created his own set of rules and broke one of them. He has every right to be the expectation of the rule he creates. After all, a priest who preaches purity is never pure; a god who gets punished is no god, either an abandoned god or the devil; Things always take the form of a cycle like a snake eating its tail. You do not get what was the reason behind his unacceptance of such an act. So, what if he kissed you? So, what if he likes you? It is not the end of the world. You are not going to punish him. Moreover, it will eventually pass. You hear Satoru humming on the other side of the curtain. He turns on the jazz music making you highly regret what you are going to say. It was a bad idea not to let him know beforehand via a text and you are neck-deep in trouble. You have never violated his terms or his personal space and so you have no idea how he would react if you were to do something to threaten his ideals, play with them.

Little did you know that you already did the day he walked into your tattoo parlour. 

“I need to talk to you,” Your voice gets buried under the jazz music along with the low hum of Satoru. He was standing near the sink washing his face, and hands. There is a set of clothes on the rack, perhaps for him. You are neck-deep in the bathtub. He has prepared everything for you, just the way you like it. Everything is as usual like any other weekend except your dom is not sitting by the bathtub, sparing an ear to your moonshine talks like he does. He is definitely avoiding you. The partition of curtains that separates the bathing area from the rest of the giant bathroom only permits you to see a hazy figure of your dom. You sit upright to lean against the bathtub. Clearing your throat you suggest the same idea again, louder this time. “Satoru, I need to talk to you.” 

From the hazy figure, you could conjecture that he was brushing his teeth. You waited until his response came trying to muster up courage and gather your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m listening,” Satoru responds from the other side of the veil.

“Can’t you just come here and sit with me? Like you usually do. . .” Even with the jazz music and the sound of running tap water, you could hear the click of his tongue, perhaps out of annoyance or perhaps out of repentance. Both are dangerous. Satoru feeling either of them is dangerous because a man like him ends up in a spiral of anger when those primal emotions leave the body, and stain the heart.

“I’d love to do that,” Satoru starts, closing the tap water, and putting the brush and toothpaste in their respective place. “But it's quite late and I’m hungry, so how about we talk while we eat? Plus, tomorrow I have an early morning.”

“It’s Sunday tomorrow.” You get out of the bathtub and stand just behind the partition. Satoru runs his middle finger upon his forehead from one temple to the other biting his bottom lip. He can not face you, not like this. He has violated the terms. He has violated himself, violated you — he has violated so many things. “It is. I know,” he mutters, voice full of haste. You see him walking towards the exit and something tells you it is now or never. So, you are really not bothered about the kiss at all.

“Satoru, I’m leaving.” You gulp as you watch the tall man turn around. So, you try to clarify your thoughts more and give them a voice. “I’m leaving Tokyo in two days. I got the scholarship for my Phd so . . .” There was a pin-drop silence between you and him. The edge of the curtain is now wet and wrinkled from your grip. You have faced many tense situations before but this one hit all the open, raw, unprotected parts of you. There was a sudden draw of curtains and when you looked up Satoru was standing holding the metal bar of the curtains, hovering above you. The lipstick marks along with the hickeys on the column of his throat are still there. He did not wash them. His eyes were assessing you, checking if you were playing some sort of prank to see if he gets worried about you. You have done it before, why not now? Many who came before tried some nasty tricks, broke some important rules, or found a loophole in certain rules that in turn violated others or used a safeword as an offensive one rather than a defensive measure. So, Satoru Gojo is used to this tactic. 

Nah, you are not lying. You have never lied to him, always been so honest to him that it made him uneasy at times. “And here I was thinking, where is the catch? After all, all perfect things come to an end.” 

“Okay, do you want me to help with that? Like packing or  . . .” His voice trailed off, so did his eyes. You wrapped the curtain around yourself doing a spin and nodded. He bit his inner lip holding his smile. “Okay. I’ll prepare dinner. Get dressed and dry yourself properly otherwise, you’ll catch a cold. ” He exclaimed, rubbing his thumb over your cheeks, eyes lingering over your lips momentarily. He leaves the bathroom as you watch him go.

You have always been afraid of him. Maybe because he was older than you or maybe it was because of his political connections, historical background, and the power that he holds at his fingertips. For instance, if he wanted he could cancel the scholarship, but he would not go that far would he? You were aware that you should have informed him earlier, at least a week ago but back then the results were not out. . . who are you consoling? What has already been done can never be undone, what has already been said can never be taken back— like an arrow shot in the forest. It is lost forever.

note: special thanks to my dearest cele aka Celestia ( @dearestgojo ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I was so confused and worried about Satoru’s characterization here. She helped me a lot with that. I wouldn't have been able to write this fic without her help actually.

Whether this will turn into a series or stay like this alone depends on ya’ll. If I get a positive response I’ll consider posting the other parts after writing it. I don't have a very healthy experience of posting series works in Tumblr. Most of them are posted on my ao3. So, let's see what I have in the store.

also tagging @orchid3a @akiniku @semisgroupie @gojoest @lalunanymph

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

lakan is written to be annoying he does not gives a single fuck how he's perceived unless you're luomen or maomao. he let jinshi think he forced himself on that courtesan. he told jinshi that he should think about how can a courtesan's price could be lowered and left. he never even finished the story. he was mad at jinshi for getting to maomao before he could so he went there to jinshi's office everyday to bother him and also to move the pawns (aka people) across the board to stop the assassination attempt at a certain high nobility. lakan dislikes jinshi yes but he's not a traitor ffs. when lakan and fengxian slept together it was consensual. fengxian did not tell him she was going to get pregnant and drive down her value. they hadn't slept together before that and fengxian was a courtesan who wasn't selling her body so the whole verdigris house took a hit when their number one courtesan got pregnant. it was fengxian's plan lakan didn't know. none of them confessed their feelings. he did not abandon fengxian after sleeping with her. luomen's case was why his father decided to send him away he actually thought he was gonna be back in three months. that dumbass just didn't realise why her contract deal fell off that she was pregnant that she loved him. same guy who would years later think that meimei was being nice to him only because of guilt and wouldn't realise she had feelings for him. just la clan being bad at these things it's almost like it's genetic

lakan is written like that. you're told he's a freak that maomao avoids because he wants to buy maomao. jinshi reached the conclusion regarding fengxian same as the most of us (unless somebody spoilt it for you) and maomao's hatred for him added to that conclusion. but it was all on purpose writing-wise and character-wise too. the actual story of his is told to us but not jinshi. he doesn't minds if jinshi keeps on thinking of him as a piece of shit yk. what i am saying is that lakan is meant to be read or watched that by going through a range of emotions. hating him is fine still. most characters in the story aren't his fans either. they just avoid him he's that kinda guy but the "he ruined maomao's mother's life" isn't a great take sorry. fengxian's life took a tragic turn but it's more because of circumstances than just one individual. and not like she didn't cut maomao's finger off in her frenzy. there are good enough reasons for why maomao feels how she does towards them both

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 7

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 4.8k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: It’s time to tag the targets with trackers during breakfast service. You and Price make an unsettling discovery regarding the weapon shipment. Meanwhile, Ghost has been taking every opportunity to touch you and drive you nuts, making it hard to organize your feelings for him. The only way to get him to understand is to finally confess your feelings to him.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The landscape across Europe flashed by as the train sped along the track. The hills and trees in the distance began to become brighter as the sun rose above the horizon. The countryside of Europe was gorgeous. Olive-green grass, rich orange and yellow trees, all over hills that rolled like waves. You’ve seen this scene before from one of your solo missions. You’ve forgotten just how beautiful it could be outside your cabin. 

As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, painting it with comfortable pinks and purples, train attendants began to open the dining car for breakfast as well as take orders for those that wanted to dine in their room. As passengers began to leave, Ghost, Price, and you sprung into action. Not before Ghost took your hand while Price wasn’t looking though. You turned wondering what he could possibly want at this moment. You didn’t have a lot of time before the train attendants would come back to deliver food to passengers. 

Simon just raised your hand to his mask, kissing it through the fabric. His eyes met yours, giving you a sincere look. Blonde strands of his already tousled hair fell towards his forehead as he looked down at you. His voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting anyone but you to hear his next words. “Be safe, kitten.” 

A harsh blush swept over your cheeks, your heart tripping over itself at the nickname. His sincere look turned mischievous as he noticed the red starting to take over your cheeks. You pulled your hand away harshly and turned back to catch up with Price. How dare he! Giving you a nickname like that all of a sudden! Was he trying to fucking kill you! 

For once, you were speechless. He really caught you off guard this time. And Simon reveled silently with this victory. The game clearly wasn’t over yet. 

Ghost headed towards the dining car, quickly spotting the target men up ahead heading in the same direction. You and Price went back towards the luggage car in the opposite direction. The observant captain noticed your blush and suddenly sour expression, but he didn’t bring it up. He just figured that you and his lieutenant were still going at it like an old, married couple. 

As quietly and slyly as you two could, you snuck into the luggage cart and closed the door behind you. You leaned against the side of the door, out of the way of the small window that allowed people to take a quick peek in. Standing as a lookout, you waited for John to find the weapons. That unfortunately meant going through a lot of suitcases. Hopefully, you two would get lucky and find it within the first few cases.

“Shit, all of these bags look the same.” The captain commented in frustration after opening a few suitcases. You looked over for a brief moment, scanning the massive piles of luggage for any hint of the targeted one. 

“Try to look for one with a sticker or a tag. Anything that would help the men make sure they don’t take the wrong bags by mistake.” You advised, your gaze falling back towards looking out the window once again. 

Price picked up the pace, looking through bag after bag before spotting a few pieces of luggage with the identical stickers. Urzikstan flag stickers. If the luggage was flagged and searched during the trip, the weapons would be assumed to come from there. The thought of Farah facing another trial of proving her and her people’s innocence made him simmer with rage. However, the mission must proceed.

“Found them.” He announced, quickly opening up the cases to place the trackers. What he saw inside, though, made him pause. He wasn’t looking at guns. Guns that he has grown familiar with over so many years of using them. Instead, he was looking at separate pieces. Ones that resembled hard plastic. Matte, dark gray, and void of any familiar markings to indicate their brand.

“What the hell am I look at?” He pondered out loud, catching your attention. After checking if the coast was clear, you came over and examined his findings. You picked up a couple pieces of the plastic, assembling them together in your mind like a puzzle. Your expression grew grim as you realized what they were.

“They’re gun parts to assemble ghost guns.” You deduced, having seen stories about this making their way through the news a while back. It was a good thing that you always kept up with the news, no matter where it was from or what it was about.

Price wasn’t following. He rarely had time to sit down and catch himself up on news stories. He relied on his base to update him on what was happening with the world. Stories were quick to change too as public interest switched all the time. Price was in the dark, and he shouldn’t be. “What the fuck is a ghost gun?”

You took the trackers from him and began tagging the inside of the luggage, feeling all the parts brush past your hand. The suitcase seemed bottomless with gun parts. “Ghost guns are guns assembled with gun parts, but the parts are untraceable and usually unnoticeable since the parts aren’t traditional parts. These are 3D printed parts. They can be made completely in the comfort of one’s own home. Some states are trying to crack down on the creation of these guns, but as you have probably guessed based on my earlier statement, they are incredibly hard to track down and trace back. It’s not exactly illegal to buy ghost gun kits too.”

John couldn’t believe that he missed this piece of essential news. He couldn’t believe that no one told him about it. It seemed like a huge problem to look out for that shouldn’t have been swept under the rug. He was pissed. “So in addition to using the catacombs, this is how Makarov has been moving weapons without getting caught. Fucking hell.”

“Try not to sweat it too much, John. This news piece didn’t last even a week. Besides, this problem has been deemed to be a police problem, not a military one. Cases of this have always been coming from civilian homes. Until now, that is. Yes, your government should have done something as soon as this seemed like an issue. They were negligent. But, that’s not on you.” You tried to explain. 

Price understood why you hated the military and government so much now. Before, he recognized that there were some problems that needed to be addressed within the system. There was a lot of red tape, a lot of traditions, and a lot of pressure. Still, he would defend it, proud to be serving a country that ultimately wanted to make the world more at peace. Now though, he couldn’t get past this neglect. This mistake that should have been nipped in the bud on a federal level. That combined with Shepherd being a traitor and getting away with it for so long, it made Price feel furious. Almost hopeless. 

They needed to take Makarov down and get back home as soon as possible. He needed to try to fix this mess.

Once the trackers were in place, John radioed his men back in the car. His voice was heavy with fury. “Test the trackers now.”

“Signal is coming through clearly, Captain. You sound rough, though. Everything okay?” Gaz respondes, concern clear in his tone. 

“We’ll explain the situation later.”

On Ghost’s end, he heard the brief conversation through his earpiece. The dining cart was pretty full considering that guests had the option to eat in their own roomette. The smell of fresh eggs, bacon, sausage, pasties, and coffee had his stomach rumbling. In order to stay inconspicuous, Gaz and Soap were ordered to reject any train staff that stopped by to provide them service. He was going to attempt to kill two birds with one stone here. Place the trackers on the men and order breakfast to their roomette once the tasks are done.

A waiter approached him, asking what he would like in Italian before realizing that English was needed. Simon told him that he was going to enjoy a fresh cup of tea in the dining cart, but the rest of breakfast would be sent back. As he relayed the large order that was sure to fill everyone’s stomachs, his eyes watched Makarov’s men sitting in a booth. They haven’t noticed him. In fact, they seemed completely wrapped up in their own conversation, laughing and smiling over hot coffee.

The waiter gestured for him to take any seat he wanted while he waited. Simon took the booth right behind his targets. He listened carefully, trying to pick out an opportunity to plant the trackers. A cup of black tea was delivered to his table along with a copy of the day’s newspaper. He didn’t ask for one, but everyone else that dined alone seemed to be reading one. 

The black tea was perfect, the flavor balanced perfectly between the tea leaves and hot water. Not too bitter, not too bland. Steeped to perfection. As much as he wanted to just relax and enjoy his cup, he had a job to do first. 

Ghost took small sips, timing his drinking with the men in front of him. He had to be patient for this, something he learned from you. When the waiter came back over to notify him that breakfast was on its way, Simon took his time finishing off his tea. Finally, the men stood up to leave, just now finishing their meal. That was his cue to finish the job.

Simon was swift, catching up to them and bumping in between them as if he was in a rush. During his passing, he did some sleight of hand, attaching the trackers right on the bottom back of their jackets. Hopefully, they won't notice it anytime soon. The men shouted at him, offended that he would push them to get through. He just turned slightly and gave quick apologies, keeping up with his appearance of being in a rush.

Once he gained enough distance, he spoke into his earpiece. “Heading back now. The trackers are planted.”

“Loud and clear, Lt. Those trackers are shining like a beacon on my screen. Good work.” Soap praised.

When Ghost entered the roomette once again, his eyes immediately met yours. You sat alone in your row. Price, Gaz, and Soap sat opposite of you. Price wore the same exact expression you wore. Heavy. Dark. He took the empty space next to you, preparing himself for the worst. “I take it that whatever happened in the luggage cart wasn’t great.”

Price looked at you and you looked at him, both wondering if the other wanted to be the one to break the news. Finally, Price spoke up, using his captain's voice to disguise his true feelings of anger. “We found the right luggage and tagged them with the trackers. However, inside were not standard weapons that we are used to. Inside the luggage were 3D printed gun parts. Ghost guns, as Hex identified. The parts were made using 3D printers, meaning that they can’t be traced, registered, or tracked. Not without extreme difficulty. The parts are useless on their own, but when put together, then they function as normal, deadly weapons. Just like real gun parts.”

“Wait, so there is no brand? No markings at all?” Soap questioned, trying to wrap his head around the concept. He was kept in the dark about this issue too. They all were. 

This time, you spoke up. “Completely clean. At a glance, they can actually look like toys. There are no serial numbers, no background checks, nothing. Makarov hasn’t just been buying his weapons. He’s been making them.”

Kyle took a shaky breath, the concept stunning him. Still, he wanted to take action. “Is there anything we can do about this? Besides killing Makarov?”

You shrugged, not really having a concrete answer for that question. “Confiscate the parts and present them as evidence to support stricter laws on them. That’s about all that can be done. This is a federal government problem. We should focus on ours in the meantime. There’s a lot on the line with each new discovery.”

The team went quiet, digesting the information. A knock on their door lightened the mood however, breakfast finally arriving. A cart with a white tablecloth over it presented a variety of choices. You waited for the men to serve themselves, watching them take heaping piles of eggs, breakfast meats, toast, and fruit. They needed a lot more food than you did. Still, they made sure to leave plenty left for you as well.

Simon watched you eat from the corner of his eye, wondering if you were able to have such a spread back home. You had mentioned how you ensured that your kitchen was stocked before back on the road trip. It still must’ve been difficult obtaining certain things on a regular basis. Eggs only lasted for so long. So did milk. 

A new instinct came over him. He felt the need to feed you. To ensure that you were able to eat all and any of the foods you wanted. Especially the kinds that you couldn’t have often. On the sly, he began sneaking more food onto your plate. A scoop of eggs here. A strip of bacon there. He refilled your juice as well. Only when his teammates weren’t paying attention. 

You, on the other hand, caught on quick as lightning. It wasn’t hard to notice how after you finished what was on your plate, another small pile would be sitting in its place. This was different from how he paid attention to you before. It felt like he was treating you like his girlfriend. It made your heart race and your stomach flip. You recalled how he called you “kitten” earlier too, the memory still making you feel like your cheeks would catch on fire with how warm they would get. 

It wasn’t helping you make sure that your feelings for him were kept in check. You had to start rejecting him. Starting with the food he kept trying to feed you.

When you finished your fruit, Simon began putting a few more pieces onto your plate. As soon as they slipped from his fork, you moved them back over to his plate instead. The large basket of pastries in front of you both blocked the view of the rest of the men, having no idea that you two were engaging in your own little food fight.

Ghost pulled up his mask and frowned behind it, giving you the hint that he was done eating. You gave him a look that said that you were done eating too. However, he ignored it and put the fruit back on your plate, gesturing for you to take a few more bites. In retaliation, you took up your plate to put it on top of his empty one. Simon glared at you, cursing your stubbornness in his mind. Slowly, he lifted the plate back up and set it down in front of you, not breaking his eye contact. 

Before you could push the plate away again, his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. You yelped, jumping up in your seat. You knee hit the table, causing the items on top of it to clatter. Now, all eyes were on you. God, you wanted to ring his fucking neck.

You cleared your throat, cheeks starting to turn red from embarrassment. “Sorry, sudden cramp. I’m heading to the bathroom.”

Ghost was practically pushed out of the booth to make room for you to leave. Once you had enough space, you slipped by and left the roomette. Brows quirked at Simon, wondering what the hell that just was. He shrugged, pretending that he didn’t know what the problem was. “Beats me. I’m gonna go order some more tea for the table.”

In the small train bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to cool down the blood rush. You could swear that you still felt the heat of his hand on your thigh. The pressure of his squeeze too. Was this what falling in love was like? Craziness? You felt like he was driving you mad. 

Trying to calm down, you took some deep breaths. The sound of the water rushing out of the faucet helped. Gave you something to focus on for a moment. 

That moment was gone as soon as you heard familiar, heavy footsteps outside the door. You cracked it open just a peek, just in time to see Ghost waltzing by without a care in the world. Without even thinking, you grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him into the bathroom with you. The door was closed and locked behind you, hoping no one would come in to see why you were blowing up.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! What the hell was that shit?!” You seethed through clenched teeth.

Ghost, getting over his momentary stun from being pulled, shook his head. “I didn’t think you would jump.”

You laid on the sarcasm thick. “Oh! You didn’t know that you grabbing my fucking thigh would make me jump. Hell, it’s not like my reflexes aim to kill anyone who suddenly grabs me. Your fucking bad, am I right, Simon?”

“Christ, I fucking get it! I’m sorry, okay, kitten?” He begrudgingly apologized, seeing just how upset you were about this. 

“And that’s the other fucking problem! Kitten?! Fucking, kitten?! Are you trying to fucking kill me? Are you trying to make me fucking kill you?! You said that we would take things slow!” You raved, your swearing out of control at this point. Somehow, Simon still found it strikingly sexy. 

“I am taking it slow.” He argued, taking a step closer to you, attempting to reach out to touch you like he wanted.

You scoffed and smacked his hand away. “You call that fucking slow? Simon, there is so much happening right now! You haven’t given me space to-”

Shit, you almost spilled the beans. You quickly shut your mouth, locking your lips tight with your secret. No way. No way in hell were you going to confess like that by accident. 

Ghost noticed how you cut yourself off, his curiosity about what you were going to say taking over his prerogative. What secret were you hiding from him now? “Finish that sentence.”

“Pass.” You simply said, backing up away from him, your body starting to go into a panic. The fact that you could see most of his face as clear as day wasn’t doing wonders for you either. You actually wanted to kiss him, run your fingers through his hair, and nibble on his lips. A shutter passed through you at the thought.

His movements were quick, knowing that if he wasn’t fast, you could potentially escape him. Stepping forward, he pinned you against the wall, an arm slipped behind your back with the hand touching your waist. The other hand took your wrists and pinned them above your head. His deep timbre voice nearly had your knees buckling. “That wasn’t a question. That was an order, kitten.”

You gave him a combative glare, refusing to break your stand on this. As you shook his head in refusal, his face inched closer. “Please, Hex. Don’t make me break my promise again.”

“I. . .” You hesitated. Was now really the best time to confess? Probably not. It was actually probably the worst time. The way he begged and threatened you for it, however, was hard to resist. Even if your morbid curiosity made you wonder just what he would do to you if you kept your mouth shut.

He gave you a moment, the warms of your skin seeping into his. Ghost just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, no matter how hard he tried. It was like he had become addicted to you. Your touch, your attention, your voice, everything. He couldn’t get enough.

Finally, you broke. You just couldn’t take the way Simon’s blue eyes drowned you for an answer. “You haven’t given me the space to sort out my feelings.”

“Feelings?” His grip loosened, allowing you to take your arms to cross over your chest, feeling protective of yourself. Your nails dug into your skin as anxiety began to hold you tight. You couldn’t take his wide-eyed shock either. 

To be fair, this was an answer that he didn’t expect to hear from you.

“Feelings.” He repeated, still hardly believing that that’s what you had said. His heart pounded in his chest. 

You pushed him back by his chest, creating more space. That made his stomach drop like a bowling ball as he stepped back. Simon watched you nervously rubbed your arms. You gave a nervous laugh. “Jesus, what am I? A fucking teenager?”

“Hex-” He tried to call out for you, wanting to provide some comfort to your anxiety. However, you cut him off.

“Stop. Let me speak, Simon. You drive me fucking nuts. You know how to push my buttons, get my fire going, get my blood boiling. And yet, I still find myself thinking about you even when I don’t want to. I want to push you away as far as I can and pull you close to me at the same time. I love and hate how you tease me, how you kissed me, how you wanted me.” You confessed earnestly, your words coming out like a storm. 

You’ve never confessed to anyone like this before. Not even in high school. Sure, you had small crushes here and there. You knew they would never go anywhere, though. You’ve always stomped them out before crushes turned into anything more. With Simon, it was different. It was like you were caught in barbed wire. You were tangled up in him. You loved it, yet you didn’t want your heart to get broken.

Feeling physical attraction wasn’t the same as emotional attraction. 

“Simon, I’m afraid that I’m falling for you. I can’t have you breaking my heart. So, you need to tell me now if this is just a fling for you. Tell me that you don’t feel anything but physical attraction. That once our mission is over, you will go back to your world. I will go back to mine. We will never see each other again.” Your voice cracked as you steeled yourself for rejection. 

The words broke Ghost’s heart. All this time, you believed that he was just toying with you. Just like you, however, he was both trying to get closer and keep just enough distance so you wouldn’t break his heart. As much as you two fought, you two were so much alike. From this new perspective that Simon has discovered, he was able to really understand you. God damn it, why didn’t he realize this sooner? He already fell for you. Hard. The way he wants to treat you, the way he wants to touch you, the way he never wants to say goodbye wasn’t something he would do with just a fling. It was something he would do with a lover. 

“Hex. . . I can’t say any of those things.” He began taking small steps to approach you again. Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It’s been forever since he’s fallen for someone. His previous love was nothing compared to how he felt about you. There was a gut feeling he had that you were a keeper. 

Your mind protested his advance, still trying to preserve your feelings. Your heart, on the other hand, went wild. In the end, it was the heart that won. His hands cupped your cheeks, gaining your line of sight once again. “It’s okay, Hex. I got ahead of myself. I started treating you how I wanted you before telling you. All out of order.”

You waited for him to say more, holding your breath as you did so. Was this really what you thought it was? No way this could be real. Just a few weeks ago, you were alone in the world. No one but Kate on the rare occasion. The plan was to stay alone, do solo missions here and there if Kate needed it, and die alone. Simon put a wrench in all of it.

“I’ve fallen for you, Hex. Probably did when I first saw you. You’re not alone anymore.” He reassured. At the same time, he was telling himself those words. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had you now.

While his own confession made you want to dance with joy, you still felt a pain in your chest. There was something that you couldn’t ignore. “That’s great and all, but what happens when I have to return to my world? Being unknown? I don’t exist. I can’t just return to the land of the living like I’ve been there the whole time. I-”

He stopped your rambling with a kiss. A deep, passionate, slow one that made your brain have an error. You didn’t even notice him pulling down his face mask before with how rampant your head ran. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, just be mine, okay?”

You released a deep sigh as you nodded in agreement. You could hardly believe it. Simon had fallen for you. You had fallen for him. No wonder he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. “Fine. Just. . . easy with the touching and the nickname, yeah? I about damn near lost my fucking mind.”

He chuckled, pulling his mask back up. “Can’t make any promises about that, kitten. I’ll try to stay patient with taking the touching further than previously agreed on. You’ve probably noticed, though, that you also drive me crazy.”

Returning to your usual self, you scoffed and smirked. “Keep it in your pants, Simon. I can’t help that I’m irresistible apparently.”

“You keep it in your pants. I know you want to touch me too.” He argued teasingly, taking your hands and putting them on this muscular chest. Once they were placed, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. It felt like your hands were on fire as they made contact with his chest. The chest that you have been wanting to put your hands on since seeing it bare the other night. He could feel the fire from your touch too.

“Simon.” You warned, your tone having some bite to it. However, he was used to your venom by now. He was growing immune. Now, your threatening tone just made him feel aroused. 

He gave a low laugh at your glare, hugging you tighter and trying to ignore the growing tightness of his pants. You really got him going in the smallest of ways. “Relax, Hex. Just a hug.”

“You’re getting hard!” You pointed out, feeling his erection press against you. As much as you protested his arousal, you would be lying if you weren’t feeling it too. Just feeling him pressed against you had your skin tingling and your sex getting wet. 

Finally, he let you go, your skin already feeling cold once he pulled away. You could see his eyes smiling, feeling quite proud of himself instead of embarrassed. Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him in order to leave the bathroom. “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

He followed you out. Thankfully, no one has been waiting to use the bathroom right outside. His tone was still low and sensual as he retorted. “You love it.” 

There was still some time before arrival. Even more time before the mission would be over. Fuck, how were you going to resist Ghost’s antics now?

-

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[gomzwrites]

Its 7am atm but my brain won’t shut up about this idea I have

Just thinking about their reactions to reader struggling with clothes - too tight or too loose

Not proofread, apologies for the errors

Tags: xgn!reader, suggestive tones(18+ mdni), I suppose this is also like pervy!cod members in some sense xD, mentioned of injury, possessive, musk kink(?), markings, tattoo

John Price

Everyone was given a new pair of military gears and outfits today, you had placed and wrote down the size you wanted previously

And yet still somehow they messed it up and your pants came in smaller than your regular size

You decided to try it on anyways because you can’t do much

That was a mistake

You pulled the pants, trying and skipping around as it gets caught around your ass, you gave another few more try before ultimately giving up, realizing that you might tore the fabric in the process

And so you push it back down, only to realize it wont budge

Great

You lay down on the floor, hands splayed on the floor as you let out a loud defeated sigh

“You alright there?” Price came by as he heard your voice, halting as he sees you on the floor

“I give up” you say as you craned your neck to look at him and pointed your pants

“Cant fit and cant remove it” you said before frowning and gestured your pants

He laughs slightly before kneeling before you

“Let me help”

He said as he gives those pants a tug, and it doesnt budge

He grumbles slightly as he lower down the zipper slightly, thank god you had a black tight pants on(like those swimmer type idk the type wheeze but just know you’re not in undies)

He tries again but it didnt move, so he held your knees up slightly, “close your legs” he said before shifting slightly

With a harder grip, he yanks the pants and this time it finally moved, but you also moved along side with it due to his strength, slapping his knee-thigh area with your ass

You blush slightly as you propped yourself up with your elbow, but Price didn’t say anything as he gives another tug

He continues doing that and each time your skin would come in contact with him, making a small slap sound every time, you can’t help but felt like you’re in quite a suggestive situation, and the grunts and curses he lets out only made things worse

Bit by bit he managed to pull it out until your knees, where you wiggle the rest of it out without much struggle

There were a few red marks on your thighs by the time the pants was removed, he traced one of it with his thumb and whispered

“Does it hurt?”

It took you a second to register his question before you shake your head, he gives a nod as his fingers lingered for awhile, before clearing his throat as he leaves, you missed the warmth of his fingers

“I’ll get you a new pair” “okay”

You slapped your cheeks after he left to hopefully set your mind straight, get a grip, he’s your captain ffs! you thought to yourself

Little did you know, Price was fighting his own struggles as he watch your thighs jiggle with every tug, and your skin was so soft and the way you stared up at him with those eyes of yours made him go crazy inside

He knows he shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but man oh man

How would it feel like having them littered with bite marks and hickies? How would it feel like if he were to use those squishy thigh to slide his hard-

He prayed you didn’t catch on his thoughts when he stood up, an bulge forming in his pants

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You queued up at a clothing shop, excited to try on one of those compression shirt that you’ve been wanting to get since you seen them online, and it just so happened that this specific black one is on sale

But you know how it is with items that are on sale, they often come in sizes that are either too big or too small

In your case, too small

You tried it on regardless, wedging it through your head with a few grunts

Eventually you got it on, and you looked good, the shirt clearly hugging onto your figure and showing off your features

But you can barely breathe

“Sweetheart ye done?” Your boyfriend Kyle asked as he knocks your door gently

You adjusted yourself better and held your breath as you open the door and grin

His eyes widen as he takes in your form, hands already on you as he praises and smirk back at you

“Holy damn- look at you, my sexy thing~”

He gave you a lil turn until he realized your breath were strained, and you were using your neck muscles more, not to mention each breath you took was shorter and more frequent

He instantly pulled the shirt around your chest a little, then frowning as he stared back at you with nothing but concerns in his eyes

“Hey its too tight isnt it?” He whispered softly as he rest his warm hands on your waist

“Yeah but, I look good though”

“Nuh uh, that doesn’t matter if you can’t breathe baby”

“But its on sale!”

“We can go other outlet to check it”

“Thats so much trouble though”

“Its not I promise, lets get these out okay?”

He gave a kiss on your head as he slowly raised em up, until it was around your chest

“Jesus…” he mutters in a whisper as he takes a look at you through the mirror, the shirt did looked hella good on you, but seeing your skin exposed like this? Mmm that’s a better view

You watched as he slowly kneel down and trace his lips around your hips, you squirmed slightly as you nudge his head

“K-kyle, we cant-“

“Shh”

He shushed before kissing on your skin, nibbling it as he left them everywhere, then giving a hard suck just above your V line all of the sudden as you let out a choked sob

He lets go and lick his lips as he looks up at you with a devilish grin

“I’ll wait outside, yeah?”

He whispered when he stood up and left the changing room, you contemplated if you seriously needed that compression shirt as you look at the mark he left you, god does he knows just how to rile you up

Simon Ghost Riley

You hissed out with a suppressed groan as you lay against the couch with a bandage over your abdomen, without painkillers the dull aching pain was getting to you

You had a stab wound at the very last moment during the mission and Ghost had to settled it hastily with the med kit, bringing you to a safe house nearby

You didnt even realize you had goosebumps all over your arm as you shiver slightly, your shirt was torn in the process and some of it were used as a makeshift tourniquet to cut off the blood supply, now only having a pillow covering your chest

“Here”

You heard a gruff voice behind you as something was tossed over your head, you quickly picked it up and realize it was one of his spare t shirt

You complied and wore it, realizing it was HUGE, the hem of the shirt extended until your thighs and the sleeves were covering until your forearm

You let out a hum of amusement as you whispered back a small “thanks” as you slide back to the couch

It smelled like him, and its warm and rather cozy, and that gave you a some comfort

You closed your eyes as you pulled up the shirt slightly so that the neckline was covering your nose, inhaling it and breathing slowly until eventually you dozed off

It will take a few hours before help can arrive anyways

Ghost had been watching from the side, and seeing how his clothe draped over your form has definitely awaken something in him

He slowly, and quietly kneel down beside you, careful not to stir you awake as he observes and look at you closely

God, he’d never realize how good you looked in something that was his

He wonders how you would look like with nothing but his big t shirt

It felt like he was marking you in some ways, showing off(albeit theres no one else) to everyone that you’re his(even though you’re not……yet)

What really made him clenched his jaw was how you were inhaling his smell, did you liked his scent that much? Mmm if only…

If only he could take you and cover you in his musk, rubbing it off on yours, letting everyone knows just who claimed you

John Soap MacTavish

You were training with him today to improve your hand-to-hand combat skills

One thing about Soap is that he will never go easy on you

So he would flip you, get you into a headlock, knocked you over with every chance he get

“Come on, yer need to faster rookie”

You huff and glare back at him as you take your stance, muscles already aching as you tug your pants

You regretted wearing this one

For some reason, you couldn’t find any regular pants you wear and so you dug out this old pants, but it was much bigger and it was falling every few seconds

You would’ve worn a belt, you should’ve worn a belt but you were rushing and didn’t thought about it

As you get distracted, Soap lunged on you as you barely avoided his fist, but he was fast as he gave a kick on your feet, tumbling you down for probably the 20th time on this session as you yelped

He grin and lets out a victorious laugh as he looked down on you, then stops as he notice just a small part of your undies revealing, along with a tattoo that was around your back, oh

You were on the ground, with your face towards the floor and ass towards him as you groan, panting out a few breaths as you try to lift yourself up slowly

“Giving up already?” He tuts as he comes closer and squat down, taking a better look at your backside with half-lidded eyes

He never knew you had tattoo, and it’s one of those tramp stamp nonetheless, which was really hot in his opinion. You had a small symmetrical wings with some thorns beside it as a design

But what really caught his attention was the hem of your undies, black, nothing crazy but still, it clearly distracts him enough that he didnt realize you were watching him stare at you

“Enjoying the view, Sarge?”

You wiggle your ass as he snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat, looking away with a blush.

“Ah-sorry, didnt mean to stare”

“You can stare”

He looked back at you with a frown as you flash him a grin, arching your back slightly as you wiggle your ass again

“Yer gonna be the death of me” he said with a laugh as he slaps your ass slightly, making you yelp as you giggled and tries to sit up, only to be yanked by your leg as he spins you around

Your legs were now beside his waist as he pulls you close, grinding on you as you blush

“Lets get on with a few private lessons…yeah?”

a/n: im updating Gaz's color with pink instead of yellow bcuz my friend mentioned it was hard to see if someone uses light mode tumblr :]

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

In Every Trio There's Always A Duo Final Part

John Price X F!Reader

You nodded, resting your palm atop of his wrist with a soft smile. John worrying over you was becoming a pastime that neither of you were going to be able to break.

A/N: ahhhh! here we are! the final installment to this little fic series! I hope everyone that loved and read this, also loves this lol, as always feedback is highly appreciated WARNINGS: mentions of PTSD, flashbacks, mentions of past injuries, trauma, John being soft(i love that old man so much)

“Simon…”

Your heart was racing, it had been so long that you’d had to face him, hell you could see Johnny standing just a few feet behind him as if he was a scolded child. It sickened you in a way, they weren’t respecting your wishes to meet on your terms. Why were things turning out like this? You were doing just fine, physical therapy was starting to fix the damage done to your leg, and yes, while you knew it would never go back to 100% use, you were fine with that. This though, this was something you’d wanted to avoid for the rest of your life. Simon and Johnny had ruined your life for months, had made you feel so miniscule and small. You were nothing more than a nuisance to them until you’d been captured by the enemy. John had been the only person to pick up the pieces, to help rebuild you as a person.

“We wanted to talk with you about everything.” Simon’s voice didn’t hide his emotions, they were laid bare in front of you.

“Simon, you can’t be serious right now, I asked for you to give me more time, this is the exact opposite of that.” Anger was simmering in your veins, a pot slowly beginning to boil over.

“I understand that, but it’s been over a year and you won’t even look at either of us.” Simon’s brow furrowed, lips pulled into a harsh line.

Your teeth gnashed together as you tried to swallow the hurtful remark that laid on the tip of your tongue. If only he knew exactly how you’d felt about the entire situation, maybe he would begin to see the real you. John placed a palm on your lower back, hoping to help not only steady you, but also calm you if he could. He’d been against you speaking to Simon or Johnny until you felt truly ready, and right now he was ready to reprimand both men.

“I think it’s best if you two leave. Now.” John wasn’t going to take no for an answer, if push came to shove he would do whatever it took to protect you. You’d suffered enough.

“Sir, you can’t be serious.” Simon was astounded, was he really about to send the two of them away because you were upset?

“I am, I have to protect my fiance, and if that means the two of you leaving, then so be it.” John’s gaze hardened as he stared them down.

Simon opened his mouth as if he wanted to retort before thinking better and deciding to grab Johnny and leave. Tears slipped down your cheeks, ruining the light makeup you’d put on before you’d left to go to lunch. It didn’t matter, you could always do yourself up for a new date night with John, but knowing it was because Simon had ruined such a special day for you? You were angry.

No, you were downright livid.

“Can we go home? I’d like to lay down.” You huffed softly, loosening the tight grip you had on his coat.

“Of course, do you want any help? Or are you alright to head to the car?” John didn’t want to rush you, even though he wanted nothing more than to be home with you as well.

“I’m all right, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.” Your steps were slower, your body still tense after seeing Simon and Johnny so suddenly.

You had thought you were passed all of this, that you could face them without the terror locking your muscles to the point you were a statue. Apparently that wasn’t the case, and now you weren’t even sure you’d ever be able to talk with them again. PTSD had plagued you for so long that you weren’t even sure therapy was helping anymore. You knew the people who’d taken you hostage were dead, John accidentally let it slip during a casual dinner. He wasn’t ashamed of it, he’d been on a personal rampage to find you, and damn anyone who stood in his way.

Of course you knew deep down you would do the same thing had John been stuck in the same situation. It was a need to protect one of the people you were the closest too, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t walk without a cane, or that your hip locked up most mornings. You would do whatever it took to make sure both yourself, and John were happy.

“How did they even know we would be here?” There was no reason for them to have shown up, not if John had only called Alex and Farah for the surprise.

“I’m not sure, the only thing I can think is Simon saw my calendar down at the station.” It was the only explanation you had at the moment.

“Probably, better keep a better hold on it in the future.” You waited until John opened the door, turning your body slowly as you got into the car.

John waited until you’d situated yourself, tucking your legs in before grabbing your cane and laying it on the back seat. He was always afraid something would happen if the two of you were to ever get into a car accident so he never risked your safety. It was another thing that had made you fall further in love with him. Neither of you were perfect people, there was no doubt in your mind that any normal person would think you were a monster. You’d killed people to make sure more didn’t die, went to defend innocent civilians from the war path of an angry person.

Your heart was racing as you watched the other man knock both John and Johnny down, muttering how this would be their final moments. Johnny threw himself off the ground, the knife he’d had strapped to his thigh plunged deep into the other man’s shoulder. His scream of agony echoed throughout the train station. The Scot wasted no time in pressing his gun to the man’s head, the single gunshot was deafening as you watched with bated breath. John threw himself up and off the ground, grabbing Johnny’s vest and all but throwing him to the bombs that were still counting down. It had only taken him mere seconds before the timer stopped, Simon and Kyle finally making their way down to where you were.

The two accomplices had fled, leaving behind their leader who now lay lifeless on the shockingly bright concrete. You stood up slowly, hands shaking as you swallowed the thick bile that creeped up in your throat. Had Johnny not gotten the shot off, who knows what could’ve happened? Would the five of you have been standing together, or would someone else have lost their life at that moment?

“You doing alright, soldier?” John laid a hand against your shoulder, noticing the way you seemed to flinch.

“Yes sir, just shaken up a bit.” You didn’t want to lie, not to someone that was mere seconds away from death again. 

John nodded his head before radioing to Laswell, letting her know the threat had been neutralized as well as the bombs.

“Sweetheart?” John pinched your chin softly, turning your gaze to face his.

“Hmm?” Your eyes focused on the way his lips pulled into a soft frown.

“You alright? Seemed a little dazed.” John knew things like this could happen, it had happened to him plenty of times before.

You nodded, resting your palm atop of his wrist with a soft smile. John worrying over you was becoming a pastime that neither of you were going to be able to break.

“Just thinking about the past, got lost.” That mission wasn’t even the worst you’d been on, but it was a reminder that everything could be gone within the blink of an eye.

“I know, I’m always here if you want to talk about anything.” John’s fingers released your chin, wrapping around your much softer fingers as he brought them to his lips.

Your smile was radiant as he pressed a kiss to each finger before pressing one final one to the ring he’d slid onto your finger just an hour prior. Everything in that moment, the two of you in your own little bubble, felt almost perfect. It began to sink in that, even though you didn’t want to, you would need to confront Simon and Johnny. They were people that meant a lot to John, and you at one point, and even after everything you’d want to invite them to the wedding.

“You’re thinking too hard, why don’t we go inside so you can get changed, and then we’ll discuss everything.” John raised a brow, waiting to see if you would be comfortable moving after what had happened.

“That sounds perfect, though you’ll need to get my cane for me.” You gestured with your free hand towards the cane that sat comfortably in the back seat.

John’s smirk raised sudden suspicion as he quickly got out of the car, slamming his door before rushing over to your side. John was careful not to swing the door open too quickly, lest your body get jerked and cause any unnecessary pain for you. He reached over, unhooking your seatbelt and pulling it away from your body.

“John, what-”

Your words were cut off as he scooped you up into his hold, not even a grunt slipping through his lips as he shut the door with his foot. Your laugh echoed as he walked up to the front door, stealthily slipping the keys from his pocket to get the front door opened. It was no secret you’d gained weight after the whole abduction, having to do physical therapy and not being as active had a hand in it. 

“You are one cheeky bastard, you know that?” Even though your words would sound harsh to anyone else, the smile on your face told John an entirely different story.

“Only the best for you, my love.” John quickly got the door open, shutting the door with his foot, again, once you were safely inside. 

You rested your head against his chest as he made his way down to your shared bedroom, depositing you gently on the bed before searching for comfortable clothes. He tossed over one of his shirts that you’d stolen in the past, laughing as it smacked you in the face. His own laughter followed suit as he’d realized what had happened before finding his own clothes. 

His hands were gentle as he helped you undress, slipping your shoes off before sliding off your pants, shirt, and lastly your bra before helping you into the much softer clothing. You ran your hand along the fabric of his shirt, smiling at the faded color. It had been one of his favorites to sleep in until you’d stolen it one night, he only ever wore it when he wanted you to smell like him.

“John?” You looked up at him nervously, your smile disappearing suddenly.

“What’s wrong dove?” John sat down beside you, taking your hands into his lap.

“I want to talk with Simon and Johnny. I know what they did earlier was completely out of line, but they’re our friends, I want them to be there when we get married.” It wasn’t a decision that had come lightly, even before John had proposed you always knew you wanted the task force there.

John was quiet for a few moments, soaking in the information and deciding on what would be the best thing to say to you in that moment. You deserved to be the one to initiate the conversation, and he was happy that right now it was your choice.

“I can call him, make some tea for when they arrive.” John’s voice was soft, even though he would always be slightly angry at what they’d done, he wouldn’t shun them out forever.

“That sounds perfect.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, you’d need time to prepare before they arrived.

John helped you down to the living room, offering assistance only if you needed it. He knew how annoying it could be when someone offered to help out because they assumed you were too weak. It was one of the reasons you worked so well together, he knew when to push you harder, and when to be the person you fell back on. 

Once you were comfortably seated with one of the books you’d been reading, did John call Simon, telling the other man that you wanted to speak with him and Johnny. The call was short, Simon stated they would be over within the next fifteen minutes, which gave John plenty of time to make some tea. He’d all but stopped drinking after finding out that most of the pain meds you had been taking couldn’t be mixed with alcohol. He only ever smoked on base, never when you would be around to smell any of the smoke.

Knock knock!

Your heart kicked up a beat before settling down once more. John walked over to the door, greeting them both quietly as they walked into your home. Johnny took his boots off quickly, not wanting to track mud inside. Simon followed suit, making sure their shoes stayed together so they could get them back on quickly if needed.

“Come on, let’s talk.” John headed into the living room, sitting down beside you as he pulled your feet into his lap.

Simon swallowed nervously. Funny how someone who could stare death in the face was suddenly afraid of upsetting you again. Johnny stayed close to Simon’s side, plopping down in one of the arm chairs as he waited for someone, anyone to break the silence.

“You can sit down, Simon, I’m not going to bite.” You tried to smile, but it felt almost wrong.

“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. Johnny even told me that I shouldn’t have intruded but I was so afraid things were going to get worse.” Simon wrung his hands together, coffee colored eyes flicking down to the scarred skin.

You wanted to comfort him in that moment, to tell him that everything was perfectly fine, that he didn’t need to worry. Except it wasn’t fine, nothing would be perfectly fine anymore. You sighed softly, taking in a deep breath as you waited for Johnny to say something as well.

“I…had I known what was going on, I would’ve done more to help you feel included. I felt like such an arse for being such a piece of shite towards you.” Johnny didn’t like to mince his words, he spoke his mind to whoever was willing to listen.

“That’s in the past now, there’s nothing we can do to change that.” Yes, you were angry and upset that the people you had thought were your friends didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

John squeezed your calf softly, it was his way of comforting you when he didn’t want to say anything out loud.

“But, I want you to understand that I am still hurt by what has happened. I had always thought that we were some sort of friends, and getting kidnapped really put everything into perspective for me.” You twirled the ring on your hand absentmindedly, almost like it was a fidget toy.

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve your friendship. What we did is something that you should never forgive, we left you to die and yet you’re acting like it’s water under the bridge.” Simon was angry, not at you, but at himself and the way he’d handled everything.

“Simon, I-”

Johnny stood up from his chair, the sound of the legs scraping against the hardwood.

“We were afraid you were going to pick one of us over the other and our friendships would be ruined. It was a childish and petty thing to do and every single night I have nightmares about hearing your screams from that fucking videotape. I’ll never forgive myself for letting someone like yourself get hurt because I was scared that the one person I’d seen as a friend would lose interest when they found out more about me.” Johnny’s chest heaved as his hands balled into fists.

Your eyes widened, he was afraid you wouldn’t want to continue being friends with him because of how he acted at times?

“Johnny, is that true?” You reached down for John’s hand, squeezing his fingers lightly as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Aye. I’d always been the weird kid, the loud one, so when you came along being so friendly I was afraid I’d make you run off by being me.” Johnny’s words broke your heart, it didn’t excuse any of his actions but knowing deep down he was a scared little boy? You couldn’t even imagine.

Simon cleared his throat, wiping his palms onto his jeans as he stood up slowly. It never ceased to amaze you how much taller Simon was than everyone else on the task force.

“He’s not wrong. When you’ve been scared of making connections with people, you tend to push away people without thinking about their feelings. I truly am deeply sorry.” Simon would never be able to deserve your forgiveness, let alone your friendship, but he was willing to try.

“You two are going to make me cry.” You laughed wetly, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. 

Johnny smiled softly as he walked around your coffee table, pulling you into a gentle hug so as not to cause any pain. You pulled him in tighter, laughing softly as he knelt down onto his knees.

“Thank you, truly I’ll never deserve your kindness.” Johnny whispered into your shoulder, arms tightening around your middle.

“You deserve nice things, both of you do.” You patted Johnny’s back, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before turning your gaze to Simon.

The poor man looked ready to flee the situation entirely. He’d never done well with physical touch, not after dealing with so much death over the years, but a hug couldn’t hurt. He followed suit that Johnny had, dropping down to his knees beside the couch and pulling you into a bone crushing hug. Your laugh was wheezy as you tried to squeeze him back just as hard.

“Guess I forgot how strong you were.” Simon shrugged sheepishly as he pushed himself up and off the floor.

“Forgot you don’t spend more time in the gym, not like that one over here.” Simon jerked his thumb over at Johnny who stared back offended.

“Hey, no fighting in the house you two.” You raised a finger, like a mother scolding her two children.

They both stopped any arguing, staring away from one another as you and John laughed at their ridiculous antics. It felt good knowing that your friendship would start anew. John helped you off the couch, leading the two men out and saying their goodbyes.

It was nice knowing that even though they had their reasons for acting so foolishly, they knew it was wrong and apologized. Now the only thing you would need to worry about was planning your wedding.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with John.

tagging: @gaylemonshark

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War: III

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: blood, descriptions of wounds, an old friend shows up. feelings! attempted fluff. mind the english🐸!

A/N: this GIF is my new fixation and i will not stop posting it in a long time so be advised 🤩 things are hitting the fan next chapter💗as usual thx for reading 🍁🩵

Masterlist✨Masterpost

"𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔?"

Heavy boots, a ragged breathing caused by adrenaline and the sound of his heart thumping inside his ears, those are the things that Ghost can hear as he approaches the white van. Price shouts behind him but he can't make out what he's saying.

The blood... crimson blood that spills from her wounds is frightening. He's a man accustomed to witness horrible things. Seen the worst the world had to offer. Experienced in the flesh what evil can do to a human being. And simply because the woman that he holds in his arms is supposed to be his enemy that didn't mean he wanted to see her bleed out to death. Especially when they learned the truth.

Ghost had a moral code. Things he never wanted to see people go through despite being consequential to their own decisions. She had decided to join the army. She had decided to join the Shadow Company. It was bound to happen. Still it was hard for him.

That very moral code was to not hurt women nor children under any circumstances, and may God —if it even existed— help him when he'd have no other choice.

"Open the fucking door!" He yells, accent becoming more prominent; the door instantly sliding open, readjusting her near dead body in his arms to get them inside. "Gaz, give me everything you have." He commands the Sergeant, who's quick to open his medical pouches as well as the first aid kit they had loaded just in case someone needed it. The eyes of the woman flutter shut and then open slightly again, drifting back and forth between consciousness and the arms of the reaper. Ghost barks again at Gaz, so he helps him undoing the straps of her vest so he can check the wound properly.

"There's another one on her leg, Lt." he points out, moving around him as much as he can with the vehicle moving. With no time to waste he rips the lower part of his shirt, long and wide enough for his Sergeant to work. "Tourniquet , now." Gaz nods, at the harsh and cold commands of his superior. He then turns, lifting her shirt to inspect the wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her stomach, he notices sucking in a sharp breath; part of Ghost wonders who could've been the one who shot her? What if it was him? Taking the disinfectant from the kit he poured a generous amount on her wound. Her face scrunched, lips pouting and a low whine leaves her mouth. "Sorry about that, kid." He muttered, before pressing down on her wound every single gauze he found only to slowly start tainting red. He knew well she couldn't hear him her mind far away from where she physically was.

"We're back." one of the Vaqueros announced, as the van comes to an abrupt stop.

"We need to get her to the helo as soon as possible. She's lost too much blood." Price orders.

The three men get down, military doctors rush to them.

"We'll take it from here." One of them declares, patting Ghost on the shoulder, he nearly growls.

"Let's go. This isn't finished yet."

So Price dragged him in the opposite direction where they were taking her. He didn't know if she'll make it. But that was everything they'd do for her.

-

Stepping out of the room, showered and changed into comfortable sporting clothes you look around for Ghost. The safe house is silent. Deadly silent.

You wonder if he's even here, and you wonder if escaping would be a good idea. But as for now this was everything you had, at least a bed to sleep and a roof above your head. Sighing you walk to the kitchen just to find it as empty as the rest of the rooms.

The chilly air of late November causes your skin to erupt in goosebumps the moment you step outside, the backyard stretches farther away in the distance and as if on cue, the tall broad form of the Lieutenant appears walking through massive pines, wearing nothing but the jacket and his mask.

Ghost gradually stops when his eyes land on you standing still right outside the back door, arms crossed over your chest to protect you from the weather. He remains silent for a long minute before taking another

step closer.

"All set. Come with me." He orders you.

Biting on your lower lip, stopping your mouth from saying something you'll regret.

"Are you always this bossy?" Despite not liking his tone you oblige and begin to follow as he turns on his heels. If your question annoys him he doesn't let it show in fact he ignores you completely. "Where are we going, Ghost?"

Suddenly a wave of fear washes over you, steps faltering, hands shaking ever so slightly. What if this was it? The end of everything. You didn't want to believe Ghost could kill you like you were nothing you just don't do that to someone you've taken care of for the past month. Why bothering? Why tending to your wounds and worrying for your wellbeing, even if he was forced to do it. You wanted to believe that at least he didn't hate you. Not the way he hated your former Commander. You thought something had changed between the two. He had seemed more relaxed around you; like he somehow had lowered his defenses around you.

"Silence." he hushes you in a low mutter. "M'not gonna kill you if that's what you're worried about."

His words are cold and measured, as if he doesn't want to be here at all and the feeling, the knowledge that you're a burden to him makes your heart ache. A tiny pang of sadness that that's all you've ever been. All you could ever hope to be. So you ball your clench your hands, head hanging low when the so familiar lump in your throat becomes unbearable.

Both of you make it to a clearing, birds faintly chirping on the horizon. The sun no longer greets you, a storm announces itself with heavy clouds appearing in the sky above.

And then you're not alone. Another person stands in the middle. Hands clasped behind. Your heart skips a beat.

The only person that cares enough to save you. Blonde hair in a low tight bun.

Kate turns around, eyes going wide when she finally sees you. She's about to say something but words die because you're practically running to her, ignoring Ghost's warnings on being careful.

A smile appears on her face when you finally hug her and tears roll down your cheeks.

"What took you so long?" You sniffle. Kate's arms hold you tighter.

"I came as soon as I could. Forgive me, Vesper."

Shaking your head you try to stop the tears. It's honestly humiliating but she's known you since you joined the military. Kate Laswell was the closest thing you had to a family just like Graves. "I hope Lieutenant Riley has been good to you."

You huff, making her chuckle.

"He's taken care of me. For that I am grateful."

So now you knew more about him.

Riley.

Better than just a callsign. And it suited him.

Ghost stands a few feet away, despite this being a secure area he can't afford himself to relax. He can still hear everything you say to each other.

He can hear you crying on her shoulder and bloody hell if that didn't made him feel all sorts of distressed. It was a rare thing. Something he wouldn't have thought when he first scooped you up back on that forgotten highway.

But he guesses that happens when you spend too much time with someone you were supposed to look after. It didn't help that just last night you had asked him to stay the night in your room. All kinds of wrong.

Although he had refused he could sense what was happening and he needed to stop it. Getting attached wasn't part of the plan, and it would end terribly.

Deep in his thoughts he misses the look you send him.

"He really is something else." You murmur to Kate who keeps you know at arms length. "If it wasn't for you, I'm sure they'd have killed me." A sad smile appears on your lips.

"Let's not think about what happened darling, but rather what's gonna happen, yeah? Things have taken... a turn. No, hear me out." She says, interrupting you with a soft smile. "You're not alone. Never have been." Another quick glance at Ghost confirms the both of you that he's heard you.

"You know I don't like it when you say mysterious things, Kate." She sighs, giving you another hug although this one isn't as long as the first.

"Trust me. That's all I'm asking, and hey..." he levels you with a serious look. "Ghost may seem frightening but he's a good man." A low confession that doesn't reach his ears. Your cheeks turn red and you don't know why, leaving you mortified when she notices.

"Yeah..." you mumble.

"I don't have much more time. There's matters that require my attention but you'll hear from me again sooner than you think."

-

"What's that stance?" He gruffly asks as he stands next to you, eyes sliding up and down your body. His arms are tightly crossed over his broad chest. You turn to look up to him and away from the scope of your sniper rifle, blinking rapidly not understanding the disapproving look in his brown eyes.

"Uh, this is how I shoot Ghost." You answer like it was obvious what you were doing. You notice the way he furrow his brows beneath the balaclava.

"Bloody Christ." He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He comes behind you. "Widen your stance." He kicks one of your foot so it slides along the dirty soil.

Yelping you lose balance for a second before he steadies you with a strong hand to your waist.

"Hey! What was that about?"

Ghost tilts his head eyes narrowing.

"That stance was utter shite. Your legs were not separated enough, you'd get knocked down easily by a waft of air."

"I've been doing it like this forever."

"Well you've been doing it wrong."

"But that's..." squinting your eyes you stare at him, fuming. "My legs are not as long as yours, they're like five damn kilometers long." Ghost snorts. "What's so funny?"

"Shocked you know what a kilometer is." Shaking your head you decide to ignore him and readjust the grip on the rifle. "One of his best soldiers, I heard." He points out. He returns to his spot next to you, trying not to think of how you felt under his touch.

"You've never seen someone like me, Lieutenant Riley."

Ghost freezes, heart skipping a beat at the way you say his name. It's soft and endearing. He watches you closely, you're focused on the target one eye closed and the other fixed on the green bottle.

Breathing slowly and steadily, the exact moment when the sky rumbles you press the trigger. The bullet sound echoes through the lone forest as it hits the target, sending birds flying away from their nests. A wide grin makes its way to your lips, turning to look a Ghost who remains silent merely watching the near-perfect shot, the average size bottle shattered in a thousands pieces.

"Bullseye." you comment in a casual tone. "Your turn."

Offering him the rifle you stare at each other for a long time before he shakes his head, refusing to take it.

"Mine's better." Unfazed by his refusal you wait as he goes to the black duffel bag that he previously placed on an old wooden table. He takes out his preferred weapon. Your was... lethal, but his own, the sheer size and way it was customized for him left you speechless. You even doubted you'd be able to hold it still. "And just so you know." coming back to where he was, Ghost readies himself but not before taking off his leather jacket. Only left with his black hoodie he offers you the jacket, eyes serious. Hesitating for a second before grabbing it and putting it on, it smells like him. It's soft and warm around your body. "We're going out tomorrow."

His body prepares to take the recoil of the gun. Yet another perfect shot is made that day; body barely moving, barely flinching when he fires. You hold your breath at the sound of shattering glass and then everything goes silent. Ghost turns to look you in the face, the way his clothes hang around your body swallowing you whole. A sight he finds himself liking too much for his own bloody good.

"Taking me out on a date I see." His lips twitch although you can't see it. "Where to?" You ask rolling your eyes.

Laying down the weapon he motions you to follow him back inside, he'd clean up afterwards.

"Your first mission. Laswell wants you back asap." The air gets stuck in your throat. "Don't look at me like that. We could use a good soldier. And don't worry too much. I'm coming with."

Teaming up with Ghost was the last thing you thought would happen in your lifetime, even if you had before needlessly to say not directly. For all you knew, they considered you a hostile for your connections with the Shadow Company. But your commander was off the equation. Gone forever.

With a final glance to your way he starts to cook dinner for two so you join him.

Your new life starts now.

-

"When does this end, Laswell?" He asks her, it's not that he doesn't want to be around the girl. That is exactly why he's desperate to put an end to this, enjoying her company wasn't a part of the plan.

She breathes the cool air, and tries to calm him.

"Don't tell me you've grown to care about her, Lieutenant."

Ghost doesn't answer but the CIA agent notices the way his shoulders tense.

Part 4

[peaches2217]

You know what I think Mario would do? Save up his money to buy something nice for Peach. She’s the gift-giver of the two of them, and he wants to return the favor! So he puts aside money every chance he gets with the end goal of getting her a super sparkly, super quality, super expensive necklace, with an authentic golden chain and a pink sapphire stone. Between him and Luigi (who will happily give up as much money as it takes to get his clueless brother to stop pining and just make a move already), the money comes together in a month’s time.

But there’s one little detail our clueless hero has failed to take into account: he’s Super Mario, hero of the Mushroom Kingdom, and store owners within the kingdom and especially in the capitol refuse to charge him full price for anything (if they don’t just shower him in wares for free, which he appreciates but generally discourages). By the time the transaction is complete, Mario has his gift for his beloved princess and the vast majority of the money he raised for it remaining.

Mario comes from a lower-middle-class, blue-collar background. He’s generally frugal. In any other situation, he would count this as a blessing, take the necklace, and then split the remaining money between him and his brother. But the fuzzy feeling in his chest as he imagines Peach’s delighted reaction, the sunlight framing her golden hair and her giggles carrying effortlessly on the breeze, overrides his capacity for rational thought, and he instead decides to buy one of everything in the shiny display case in front of him.

Another thing that Mario doesn’t account for, or maybe just doesn’t realize: he could give Peach one of those gumball machine novelty rings that turns your finger green, and she’d still find it far more priceless than any of the innumerable precious jewels in her collection. So maybe it’s for the best that he ends up buying her an entire trove’s worth of jewelry, because she decides that very day that she’ll wear these jewels and nothing but these jewels until the day she dies.

[flower-yi]

omg i’m kinda late but 48 + alhaitham?

nothing needs to be said. just wordlessly handing him a cup, just how he likes it. however, you being the one to fix it for him unprompted is the best part; he’s reminded that the peaceful life he’s worked hard to cultivate for himself wouldn’t be the same without you, the one he loves.

48. Getting them a coffee just the way they like it. | "Do you think there is anywhere, in any language, a word billowing enough for the pleasure that fills you, as the sun reaches out; as it warms you as you stand there, empty-handed—or have you, too, turned from this world, or have you, too, gone crazy for power, for things?" — The Sun, Mary Oliver

When Alhaitham wakes, it is dawn and the birds are yet to chirp. He is not a morning person—he does not rise with the sun and set with it, instead choosing to follow what his body does, but now, his eyes are bleary as they blink open.

The feeling of you over his chest is familiar, him being pressed down on the mattress with both of your combined weights. It's funny, how he'd rather soak in the moment you are there in his arms; dead asleep; most likely drooling; but he finds that he doesn't mind. He lifts his hand to splay it over the expanse of your back, turns his head to nose your hair, and breathes.

His duties as a scribe have yet to call him, and he can lay here, with no other responsibility other than loving you.

But restlessness overcomes him—perhaps something he's gotten from you: lively and cheerful as you are. So, he shifts, gently, to move you out of his hold, and lays you down on the bed with the sheets up to your chin. The weight of you on him remains like a phantom, as if he shouldn't have moved in the first place.

Alhaitham leaves bed, but not without giving you another look. He's right: you're drooling. (Until he's wiped it off, he doesn't go.)

Things have changed when you came into the picture. You were something his friends hadn't known until a band of gold was around your finger, something he'd kept hidden—but you were in no way a secret. You were an oath he promised to keep, and out of respect, Kaveh moved to find another place.

(You were worried for him when he decided to. The concerned looks you shot Alhaitham with whenever Kaveh's situation was ever mentioned in conversation shouldn't had faze him as it should, despite the repeated attempts of assurance given to mostly you.

He'd known Kaveh would find a place for himself, strangely affordable and was perfect for his career; meaning that he could go off and hammer down every nook and cranny away with no one to wake other than his neighbours. His senior had cheerfully shared the news, then, to you and both Cyno and Tighnari, and while you remained unaware—mostly, he thinks you know but say nothing—the two had the knowledge that the house Kaveh was staying in was negotiated to a lower, reasonable price; one where an architect with too big of a heart can afford.

Alhaitham admits that, after he's moved, he's kept Kaveh's room clean in case he decides to crash.)

The home is quiet, this time. There is no abundant laughter, soft singing, or conversation that comes with his arrival to the living room. It is too unfamiliar and too different, so unlike the routine he's kept for years on end, and so, he forgoes the need to eat.

With a book in hand, from the bookshelf down the hallway across your shared room, he sits down on one of the divans and reads.

When the birds are chirping, and the sunshine begins to trickle in, so do you too come shuffling out of the bedroom, hair messy and shirt sizes too large for you, to head to the kitchen.

He's sure you don't notice him in the living room. If he wanted to scare you, he'd say something smart, but instead, he watches.

You prepare the coffee with practiced steps. A clatter then and there, then he sees a pan set on the stove—are you going to make kebab, or shawarma? A sizzle sets in the air, the smell of meat drafting over him, and Alhaitham buries his nose into the book with the knowledge that when he's finished, he can eat.

As the other plate is placed on your side, he bookmarks the last page he's on and rises from the divan, crossing the living room in long strides.

"Good morning," he greets, already up in your space to hug you from behind to nose that space on your neck; kisses abound that makes tickles. Your energy comes later in the day, so, what he gets in reaction is a low sigh and an exchange of his greeting, "Mm, morning. Why didn't you eat ahead of me?"

You've noticed him in the living room, then. "Your cooking tastes better," Alhaitham surmises, but it is the truth; he would never say a lie, especially to you. "And food tastes better with company."

"Is that what you always say to Kaveh first thing in the morning?"

He makes a face. "I believe it's the other way around."

Despite morning having risen for you just minutes ago, your laugh comes out full and warm. He can feel it, just like this, when he holds you—the shaking of your shoulders, the little breaths you take in between—and it feels like home.

"Sit already, Hayi," His protests are quickly swallowed because you move away from him swiftly, but never departing without a kiss, and you go back to the stove and counters to pick up the dallah and two fenjals for the both of you.

He watches you pour his cup of coffee, and it smells rich, pleasant, and... sweet, just how he likes it. (He ignores the mischief in your features.) In return, he pours your own cup, and then you are seated in front of him.

When Alhaitham takes the first sip, the day has started—and it is with you.

want to send in a prompt? just go to my askbox, and send in any character from hsr, genshin and lnds. there's a one character per prompt limit, but nonetheless, don't get discouraged!

[grizzersmamma]

One Surprise, Two Surprise | König x F!Reader

Summary: König has been away for months and is eager to get back home to you, only you have a couple of surprises for him. 

Notes: @lethalchiralium​ and their Happiness AU has me out here acting like a broody hen 😭 I’m also a sucker for the trope of “partner goes away for an extended period and comes back to a whole ass baby having been born”, so this is inspired by that too. Absolutely recommend their fics, so go read them if you haven’t already! My family has the twin gene quite prominently, so König gets two babies for the price of one 👉👉

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy Implied, Infants.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next: Here

It’s been almost ten months since König has last been home. His deployment with KorTac had been keeping him constantly on the move, constantly taking mission after mission with little to no reprieve. To make matters worse, there had been a strict no-contact rule in place for the entire duration of his deployment thanks to the sensitivity of the missions.  

Ten months, only two short of a whole year without seeing you. Without holding you in his arms. Without so much as hearing your voice.  

It was agonising, knowing that he could have been curled up in your shared bed together rather than trudging from safe house to safe house. He had never known a true longing for home until he’d met you – normally he couldn’t wait to be sent off to some godforsaken forest or desert in the middle of who-knows-where, enjoying the isolation – but now, his skin had begun to feel like it was crawling, searching out the gentle touch you always offered.  

Sleeping was difficult on a good day, never quite feeling safe enough to lower his guard. After spending so much time with you, however, he found his arms automatically trying to seek out your body in his sleep, needing to know you were there for his brain to calm. Sadly, he was only ever met with cold sheets at best, and at worst he would end up grabbing at poor Horangi when they were forced to share a bunk.  

Fortunately, Horangi didn’t seem to care too much, simply slapping at whatever offending limb had slid into his personal space and going back to sleep again. That didn’t stop König from apologising in the morning, relieved when his squad mate would just lazily wave him off.  

But finally, he’d arrived back on Austrian soil, able to take in a deep breath of frigid air the moment he stepped off the plane. It was early afternoon, the sun hitting the snow at just the right angle for it to sparkle. Within a few weeks the ice would all be gone and spring would be in full swing, bringing with it some much needed warmth.  

König pulls his jacket a little tighter in response to the chill, deciding that he’s admired the view long enough and refocusing on getting home.  

He collects his personal items from the locker where they’re housed during deployment, switching on his phone. It’s an old Nokia, used purely for receiving texts and phone calls while working, while his personal one is kept safe at home with you. It takes a while to finally boot up, clinging on with a measly 3% of its battery, but it’s enough for it to load the few messages he’d missed while abroad.  

There are the usual messages, generally wishing him luck, telling him that he was in your thoughts, simple ‘good morning’s and ‘good night’s scattered throughout randomly. The second to last, however, is different from the rest, a request for König to call you as soon as possible.  

His brain is quick to offer up a handful of the worst-case scenarios – maybe you'd gotten hurt while he was away, or perhaps you’d grown tired of his lack of presence and decided to call it quits – but after glancing at the next message he finds himself calming again. The last text was sent just over two months ago, telling him to disregard the previous message and to meet you at his oma’s home when he returned, that you had some sort of surprise for him.  

Odd that you would choose for him to go there rather than the small home the two of you occupied, but König refused to let his worries spiral. You got on well with his oma, much to König’s delight, and she had been a huge help, considering you had no close family living nearby. The moment he had introduced you to his grandmother, the woman immediately decided you were perfect, taking you under her wing as one of her own. She was absolutely delighted to finally have a granddaughter to dote on and pass all of her family knowledge to.  

König had attempted to stop his grandmother from smothering you completely, lest his girlfriend be scared off after only the first meeting, but to his relief you’d told him you already adored the older woman and looked forward to seeing her again. His heart turns into mush every time he sees his two favourite women spending time together. Even if that time is spent with his oma telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from König’s youth.  

The drive to his grandmother’s house is fortunately rather short, and within an hour of touching down on the runway he’s already arriving. König ensures to remove the simple balaclava he’d been wearing on base, knowing from experience that his oma doesn’t appreciate him “looking like he’s about the rob the place” when he arrives.  

After gathering up his belongings, König gently raps on the glass of his grandmother’s front door. He could hear soft voices inside, but they quiet the moment his knocking rings out, leaving him stood in silence while he waits for someone to answer.  

It’s his oma who opens the door, gasping out his name joyfully, before wrapping her arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug. It’s impressive, really, that a woman of her stature and age is somehow still strong enough to hold him tight enough that all the wind is driven from his lungs. “Hallo, oma,” he smiles, giving her a gentle squeeze in return.  

“Mien lieber Enkle, wo bist du gewesen?!” She demands, pulling back from König, only to grab his hand and begin dragging him into the warm house.  

“Ich war arbeiten,” he mumbles back, but is ignored as his grandmother deposits him in the living room.  

König’s eyes zero in on you in mere moments, unable to resist the soft look that crosses his face, nor the way his shoulders droop. It’s as though a massive weight has been pulled from his shoulders, even more so when you near enough throw yourself into his arms, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck so you can pull him down toward you.  

He meets you in a tender peck which quickly devolves into a more desperate kiss, eager to make up for lost time. It’s only the awareness of where the two of you are that stops König from escalating from loving smooches and taking you right then and there. “I missed you, mein Vögelchen,” he breathes, nosing at the side of your face.  

“I missed you too, mein König,” the grin you give him is nothing short of playful, but that doesn’t hide the clear signs of exhaustion on your face.  

König’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, gently encouraging you to release your hold on him so he can look at you more closely. “Are you alright?” he asks, his gloved thumbs softly caressing your cheeks as he takes in the large bags under your eyes.  

“Your surprise kept me awake,” you laugh, taking König’s hands into your own.  

“Surprise?” He had almost forgotten about the surprise you had mentioned in your text, blinking in confusion, “what kind of surprise would-” He cuts himself off when his oma comes back into the room – he hadn’t even noticed her leaving, too focused on you – his voice flees him at the sight. A tiny little creature is nuzzled into the older woman’s chest. A baby, his brain belatedly supplies for him.  

“Where- Who- Wha-” König blinks once again, unable to process what he was looking at for a long moment. “A baby?” he whispers, breathlessly, his heart racing as he turns to look at you.  

You laugh again at his stunned reaction, gently guiding him closer to the tiny boy. “Say hello to your son,” you smile, watching as he reaches out a hand to caress the infant’s face. His hand is huge compared to the baby and it’s amazing to him that he could ever create something so small and fragile. He’s spilled enough blood in his life that he was certain he’d been stained by it, yet here this child is, completely untainted by the horrors of the world. “His name is Lukas. I remember you saying you thought it would be a cute name,” you add softly, snapping him out of his thoughts.  

He reaches for Lukas, his oma helping him to lift the child from her, showing him exactly how to hold the infant so his head is properly supported. His arms are shaking, despite how light the baby feels, the weight of this new responsibility, this whole new person who is relying on him, leaving him feeling weak at the knees.  

“Hallo, Lukas,” König murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of his son’s forehead. The infant’s little face screws up at the disturbance, eyes blinking open to gaze at his father with the exact same pair of blue eyes. There’s a grumpy pout on the child’s face, but it’s smoothed away with an impressively large yawn only moments later.  

“He’s perfect.” König can feel his throat tightening up, eyes threatening to fill with tears. He supposes that meeting his son for the first time is an understandable reason for crying – there's no need to keep up any appearances here, surrounded only by family – he's more than happy to shed a few tears while he presses feather-light kisses to Lukas’ face.  

Lukas reaches out, placing his tiny hands against König’s cheeks with a curious little coo. He seems to be entirely unphased by his father’s shaking breaths and damp eyes, too focused on the smile he was being offered.  

“I’m glad you liked your surprise,” you say, curling into König’s side and gazing down at your son, “are you ready for your next one?”

König’s head shoots up, staring at you wide-eyed. “My next one?” he chokes out, “y-you don’t mean...”

He sees you biting down on your bottom lip to try and keep the grin from completely taking over your features, unsure if he should be horrified or excited when you turn around and wander into one of the spare bedrooms. “Schatz, no,” he gasps, only able to stand there, gaping like an idiot when you return moments later with a second child in your arms.  

"Keine Chance! There are two of them?!” König’s voice has taken a slightly higher pitch, gripping at the sofa beside him to keep himself from toppling right over. His outburst startles Lukas enough for the baby to whimper, bottom lip poking out and wabbling dangerously. “Ah, sorry, mein leiber,” he quickly shushes, swaying to try and calm his child.  

“Here’s your little girl, Anna,” you coo, bringing the second baby close enough for König to see.  

“Anna...” he repeats, staring down at his daughter in amazement, looking at her pretty eyes, exactly the same as her mother’s. “We have two children, mein Vögelchen,” he wheezes, slowly slipping down to sit on the couch, his legs no longer able to hold him. He knows he told you he hoped to have a family one day, a couple of children and some dogs or cats, but to have two children in one go?  

The realisation hits him like a slap to the face. You had been here alone, carrying not one but two children, and then had to give birth to them. His oma was here for you, of course, but there’s only so much one elderly woman can do to help.  

König should’ve been there to help you throughout the entire process. He should’ve been there when you found out you were pregnant, when you went in for scans, when you found out there would be two of them, and when you found out there would be both a little boy and a little girl entering the world. Instead, he had been overseas, fighting enemies, while you were taking on your own battle by yourself.  

With his free hand, König reaches out to take one of yours, giving it a soft squeeze. “Liebling, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he breathes, pressing your hand to his forehead as he seeks your forgiveness. He would be on his knees, grovelling, if it weren’t for the tiny child currently attempting to reach for his face again.  

“No, none of that,” you shake your head, removing your hand from his grip and instead cupping the side of König’s face, “you didn’t know, there’s no way you could have.” You sit yourself down beside him on the sofa, crowding in nice and close so the two of you can be pressed together.  

He wants to argue, entirely convinced you should be angry at the very least, but now isn’t the time for it, not when this should be a perfect movement between the two of you and your children. So instead, he says, “thank you, mein süßer Vogel,” placing a kiss against Lukas’ head, allowing the boy to hold his finger as he then leans over to kiss Anna. “I love you,” he breathes, finally offering you a kiss.  

“I love you too,” you hum back, staring into his eyes.  

A moment later, Lukas lets out an upset wail, breaking you both from your interlocked gaze. His loud shrieking causes his sister to whimper, awoken from her slumber and most displeased about it.  

“Time for these two to be fed,” you huff, briefly letting the exhaustion catch back up to you.  

König quickly stands, holding out his hand to pull you to your feet. “You can show me how to feed them so I can help, ja?” he asks, eager to take at least some of the work from you. He’s only just returned from months abroad and is tired beyond belief, but this is his responsibility now, and it’s one he is more than happy to take on. He’s already missed almost two months of his children’s lives and he has a lifetime of making it up to you for being away so long.  

No doubt you will disagree with him.  

You walk to the kitchen together, König wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you close.

He needs to discuss what the two of you are going to do going forward, especially regarding his work now that he more important things to concern himself with. There’s no way he’s going to leave for another deployment, not for a good while after this. All he wants to focus on is spending time with his son, his daughter and the love of his life.  

-

Translations

“Mien lieber Enkle, wo bist du gewesen?!” | “My dear grandson, where have you been?!”

“Ich war arbeiten,” | “I was working,”

“I missed you, mein Vögelchen,” | “I missed you, my littlie bird,”

“I missed you too, mein König,” | “I missed you too, my king,”

“Schatz, no,” | “Treasure/Darling, no,”

"Keine Chance! There are two of them?!” | “No way! There are two of them?!”

“Ah, sorry, mein leiber,” | “Ah, sorry, my dear,”

“We have two children, mein Vögelchen,” | We have two children, my little bird,”

“thank you, mein süßer Vogel,” | “thank you, my sweet bird,”  

[ivyjupiterwrites]

I had two thoughts which led to this - 1. I saw a Ghost playlist on YT and the picture was him unable to get a pair of pants on--which led to 2. what if you had big thighs (big thigh girlie here) and just nothing would fit? Cause too relatable.

Said playlist at bottom because the picture is a lil saucy

"Ummm Cpt Price?" you had hoped to subtly catch his attention, however, you were anything if subtle. Perhaps you should've just waited til he was finished.

He was speaking with Soap and Ghost, so naturally all three turned to see what you wanted. It was awkward, three huge men in comparison to you standing there, all leering down at you. Leave it to Soap to make you feel better.

"Whaddya need?" Soap grins at you toothily, never failing to make the clouds part from the sun.

"The harness I got," you had it firmly grasped in your palm, the access dangling against the floor and nearby surfaces as you explained your dilemma. "it doesn't fit."

A slightly awkward silence ensues as they await Price's answer, he was your Captain after all, the question had been for him. They're thinking how they all have big thighs, but damn, you have some absolute gams on ya.

"I'll get Laswell to custom order you one straight first thing tomorrow, sorry 'bout that." there was no mistake the lurch forward of disbelief at his words, albeit said as kindly as possible. Go figures.

"Custom?" how goddamn big were you? you pondered as you glanced down to your legs, a mixture of upset and embarrassed.

"Don' even worry 'bout it." Soap waved off your insecurities, what a gentleman, "Good Ole' Lt here's gotta get his pants custom made."

Well that sure as hell wasn't what you had been expecting him to say. What comfort were you supposed to find in knowing that?

"Shuddup Johnny." was all Ghost said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm just let'em know there's nothin' wrong with bein' a lil big, that's all. Happens to the best of'em."

While they're squabbling, Price is watching you bombastically side-eye Ghost and sees your eyes flickering lower. The gradual flush rising to your cheeks suggesting you were giving what Soap had said a good thinking over, as to what it all really meant.

"Was the harness the only thing that was too small, or?" he eventually asks, after watching you do this for the better half of a minute or so. The bickering pair obviously weren't going to notice you--well, Soap had, but he wasn't going to say anything. Your body physically jolts, much to Price's amusement.

"I'll get back to you regarding the pants." you briefly met the Captain's eye before opting to stare at the floor. His grin making your heart beat faster, he knew, he had to.

"Guess they just don't make nothin' big 'nough for anyone 'round here." Soap lamented comedically to the group of you, still going on about it. "Somehow, mine fit just fine tho."

"I'll be sure to get you a gold star." the Scotsman is teeheeing at how wound up he has Ghost. He's going to get it later, no doubt about it from the hole that was being burnt into the side of his head.

"Alright--well, thank you." you weren't able to stand there any longer. Soap's jokes had nothing to do with it, you were fighting yourself tooth and nail not to gawk at your lieutenant.

"See you." they all variously bid you farewell as you hurried off, still taking the harness with you.

"What's wrong with you?" Ghost rhetorically questioned the happily grinning sgt.

"Many things, Lt." Price snorted at his earnest tone, and left them, deciding he should go talk to Laswell before he got sidetracked.

also the playlist, just in case you were curious:

[judesmoonbeauty]

This was supposed to be a quick fluffy drabble inspired by a recent beach trip, but it quickly spiraled into an angsty fic instead so.....here you go. Sorry it's not shorter. WC: 3,028 Discord Writing Prompt: First Kiss CW: No happy ending ┃Being in the water Pairing: Jude Jazza x Reader Pronouns: You/They Tags: SWF ┃Angst ┃Revenge ┃Pining ┃First Kiss vs. Last Kiss Summary: ... and soon you’re pinned against a barnacle encrusted support beam, with Jude wrapping your legs around his waist, and twining your fingers with his as he holds them over your head. The waters churn around you both from the wake of sea vessels going to-and-fro in the port, salt stings your eyes, and your bodies.... Dividers: @natimiles [Master List]

A pile of spent cigarettes lay at the feet of a couple well-polished black shoes whose owner stood on a dock at the port of London. Aimlessly staring into the horizon, Jude lingered there all morning chain smoking, until he finally pulled the last of his cigarettes from the silver case with his initials engraved on it.

“Why not get this one, Jude? The filigree is lovely, and you can have your initials engraved at the top?”

A distant memory surfaced of a shopping trip you accompanied him at a haberdashery when he need to replace his damaged cigarette case. It was just before he had tricked you into leaving Crown on a pseudo-mission by his design, and essentially barring your return to England..

He was convinced that although it was cruel, it was a necessary act because Jude had almost forfeited his resolve to push you away, and that surely would’ve led to your demise. That outcome was frightening to him. He wasn’t going to fail to protect another in his life*.* Fortunately, his scheme went off with out a hitch and he was able to avoid the worst possible outcome that had awaited you.

Affairs were arranged for you to kept from the country for a few years in comfort, until your face was forgotten by his enemies, and hopefully once it was time for you to return, you would’ve found a new life elsewhere and not bothered to comeback to England at all. He even had Ellis slip a blank check into your luggage with a brief note, hoping it would jump start your new life. It was money, but it was a small price to pay if it kept you safe.

“For the troubles Crown put you through. Write any amount.- Jude Jazza”

However, even though he regularly reviewed his account, you never cashed the check and he scorned the thought of how pathetic and sick it made him feel. Money was the only true form of sincerity after all, and it was like you were throwing his sincerity back in his face. That was seven months ago, and now it seemed like the only thing left to do, if you decided not to cash the check, was to let go of you completely. Jude pulls a letter from his breast pocket, it was still neatly kept as all his important documents are.

“Hah, buncha rubbish.”

Recalling the day you left on your faux-mission, Jude watched you say your goodbyes with Crown, hidden in the shadows at a distance. Despite what his heart told him to do, he trampled those feelings dead that day, and let you leave with out incident. Listening to the gentle wake of the waves thrash into the dock’s support beams, the hollow reverberations echoed like they were mimicking the hollowness inside his soul.

“Jude, are you expecting a delivery? I didn’t see one scheduled on the manifest? Oh, isn’t that the letter they had me deliver to you the day they left?”

With out answering Ellis back, Jude tossed your letter of well wishes into the sea.

“Jude, I won’t say don’t get injured, that’s an impossible to ask of you, but could you please try to not get injured as much as you usually do? I’m worried about you. I’ll see you again when I return from Crown mission. ”

Ellis lowered his head in sadness as he witnessed Jude coldly eradicate you completely from his life, but neither Ellis nor any other person ever know that Jude had been chain smoking that day to stay with what remnants he had of you for just a little longer. Feeding the ever starving, yearning heart that Jude cemented away with this final morsel. The letter floated on top the water and the overcast skies dimmed even further, just as Jude’s once vibrant eyes now lacked luster.

His brooding mood became worse when one of the squawking seagulls overhead promptly defecated a white chalky splotch on the shoulder of Jude’s jacket..

“Bloody hell. Ellis…..”

He ripped off his ruined jacket and shoved it into Ellis’ chest, who skillfully caught it with out tainting his own clothes.

“Burn it.”

“Sure, Jude.”

Salty sea air slipped into Jude’s mouth as he dropped his final cigarette like his was dropping a heavy curtain on his time with you, dividing him into the shadows and you into the world of the light. However, this was for the best and there was no room for miscalculation when it came to your life. He would not allow it to blow out unnecessarily quickly like a candle’s flame.

Ellis tapped Jude’s shoulder, “Um, Jude…..”

“What?”

“They’re back.”

“Hah? The hell are ya sayin’ nut job?”

Hard clacking heels hit the aged wooden planks of the dock from behind Jude, whomsoever footsteps they belonged to, they were aggressive. Please let it not be you.

“Jude Jazza!”

He closed his eyes when his silent wish was dashed to pieces. Listening to your seething call hit his ears feeling both like a soothing balm to his soul and a troublesome irritant. Jude turned around and with an arrogant smile, only to be met with a crumpled wad of paper being thrown into face.

“You bastard! A blank check? Sorry for your troubles? Really? Were you seriously trying to buy me off?”

Blitzing him with a series of rapid questions, he chuckled at your perturbed face, he loved that expression, so much so, that he wanted to do nothing but piss you off even more now. Picking up the wad of paper, he could tell that it was the blank check he’d given you as compensation.

“Ha, looks like you’re were smart to fig-“

“You can keep your damned money you arrogant prick!”

Thud! Splash!

Jude couldn’t even finish his sentence before you tackled him into the bay. The water was so cold it stung your body, and no sooner after you both broke through the surface and caught your breaths, Jude had grabbed your shoulders and shook you.

“Have ya lost your damned mind? Do ya know how dangerous the stunt you just pulled was?”

His hands grabbed your chin as he started to inspect you for injuries, lifting your arms, checking your hands, and moving your hair out of the way to check your neck. Determined to remained focus on the reason for your visit, you swat his hand out of the way.

“Why? That would be a good thing for you, wouldn’t it? If I died, I wouldn’t be a nuisance to you anymore, and you’d not have to worry about keeping me under house arrest. I’d be a huge financial savings for you!”

You didn’t mean to cause a scene, but it couldn’t be helped either, months of anguish that had been simmering finally gushed out like a geyser. Jude pushed you under the dock to avoid the stare of onlookers. That’s when you saw the a crumpled letter float by you, and when you picked it up out of curiosity, your eyes widened that it was your note you’d left him before you departed England.

Jude watched you expectantly, waiting for a barrage of questions as to why your crumpled letter was in the ocean, but was surprised when you simply dropped it back into the water like it didn’t matter to you anymore. There was a certain finality of your movements that he didn’t like, but he didn’t have long to ponder that thought before it was answered.

“I just came to return the check. I don’t want nor need your money. Don’t insult me like that ever again. I’m leaving. Ellis, are you there?”

Ellis’ head popped over the side of the dock, “I’m here.”

“Will you help pull me up please?”

“Sure thing.”

Swimming towards Ellis you stretch out your dripping wet hand to grab a hold of his, when a scowling visage grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards himself instead.

“Let go,” you hissed.

“Shuddup. Ellis, I gave you task now do it.”

“Oh….right. Um, I’m sorry, but…..” Ellis apologized to you with large twilight eyes filled with regret.

“It’s fine, please do as he says.”

Ellis pauses for a moment before he leaves you both under the dock to continue your conversation, and soon you’re pinned against a barnacle encrusted support beam, with Jude wrapping your legs around his waist, and twining your fingers with his as he holds them over your head.

The waters churn around you both from the wake of sea vessels going to and fro in the port, salt stings your eyes, and your bodies are chilled to the bone, but in the face of him staring at you and inching closer and closer to you in silence, none of that mattered.

Jude’s grip tightens and the silence poured between you both is broken when his cold lips that had been grazing yours finally pecked you softly as soon as he sensed what he thought was your quivering anticipation of his touch.

Chu……..chu…chu.

His lips carefully met yours teasing them sweetly, it was so different from the hard forceful kiss he gave you the time he pulled you from the river. Every emotion he felt about you deep from inside was being charged into these kisses, and when his tongue gently nudged your lips for permission to enter, and you granted it - not out of weakness, but from something else. This is what you’d always craved from him, his true feelings, his love, his heart, his vulnerability, and now you held it in the palm of your hands.

His tongue tangled with yours and the heat from inside your mouths overwhelmed the salty bitterness from the wet kisses. Gaining a sense of security, he relaxed his grip from your hand and grabbed your thighs, and you both tilted your chins to angle your mouths for deeper, more lewd kisses. Sounds of both your moans echoed under the dock and finally breaking a part, you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“Let’s go, or we’ll get sick,” he said and you nodded in compliance.

After making it back a top the port’s walk way, you both rang out your dripping wet clothes, “I’ll escort you home.”

“What?”

“I’ll take ya home to change ‘n then we’ll have Roger check ya out to make sure everything’s alright.”

Hesitating to respond to him, you finish ringing out your clothes, and then politely decline his assistance.

“Thank you, but you needn’t escort me home, it’s quite far from here actually.”

“Whaddya mean? It’s just across town. That shack ya live in above that bakery or whatever.”

“Shack?” You mumble at his slight towards your previous living quarters.

“Oh, did ya get a new place when ya came back? Tell me where ‘n I’ll take ya,” Jude said he was examining the damage done to the book in his holster.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Jude. I’m not staying in England, my ship sails late this afternoon.”

His attention locks onto you in disbelief. That must be a lie. Jude closes the distance between you both so that the tips of your toes touch the other, and he stares at you in silence waiting for further explanation.

“I told you, I was here only to return your blank check.”

“Ha! That’s rich. You’re crazy if ya think I’m lettin’ ya escape my grasp a second time. No way in hell,” Jude grabs your forearms tightly, and you stare at him in disdain for his conceited presumptuousness. He often tells you not to be conceited or to think that he’d ever be willing to put his body on the line for you, but he fails to recognize when he becomes full of himself, and it was this fault that drove you not to return to him.

“Escape a second time? I never ran from you in the first place. Did you forget that you coerced me into a farce mission to drive me away from you and Crown?”

He started to refute, but silenced himself when he had no ground to stand on. You’re right, it was my doin’ but…

“I did what I did to protect ya….because - because I…..I love ya. Dontcha understand that?”

He was finally being honest and genuine with his feelings. Watching him fight his natural inclination to bury those feelings deep in his core, and expose them to you was truly satisfying and beautiful, so beautiful because…..

“And? Do you honestly think I’m so thick in the head that I don’t grasp that much? I know why you did it, but what does that matter?”

His sorrowful face quickly soured since it seemed unthinkable that your love for him had washed out so quickly, that his feelings you tried to pry from his calloused and scarred heart meant nothing to you anymore.

“Listen closely Jude. This is a concept you should understand very well, since you were the one who taught this to me after all.”

Straightening your spine, you grab him by the chin bringing yourself nose to nose with him. The thought of kissing him, being touched by him, or being loved by him - they were all figments of hope that you decided to leave drowning in the watery grave beneath you. What happened under the dock, was what you allowed to happen and now everything was almost complete, now you just needed to give him something to mull over for the rest of his life in regret…..

“Why should I have to put my heart on the line for you? Why should I have to risk my happiness and well-being for you? Why should I have to forgive what you’ve done?”

He was stunned in silence, his face skewed stupidly as he didn’t expect you to ever utter those words, but he was further floored by what you said next.

“Is it because you’re a villain? Is it because you’re cursed to suffer a terrible fate? Because of your wealth and power? Should I have to forgive the months of pain and yearning, or of being confined in a foreign country, in house where I was alone, simply because you now want to be honest with how you’ve felt about me all this time?”

You grip his jaw tighter and stepping forward an unexpectedly strong opponent against him, and for the first time in a very very long time, Jude took a step back. You gritted your teeth an fought back tears that wanted to spill from your eyes, because you would never ever let yourself cry in front of Jude Jazza again.

“Three months. I cried every day for three months, I could barely stomach food. In the fourth month, when my tears finally dried up, I thought of how I should execute my revenge, and started to look for a way to make it back to England. A month ago, I was able to board a ship in secret and sailed here to meet you. I’ve done nothing, but think of how I wanted to cast you aside the way you did me.”

The hand that gripped his chin slid down to his neck, and tightened on it like he did to you so many times in the past. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he stared you in disbelief, your audacity seemed to be stoked even more since he last saw you.

“You took away my right of choice to stay at Crown. And whether you returned my feelings or not, I was happy to stay there, and I never once asked you to protect me! It’s as simple as that.”

Every moment you spent with him was a blessing and whether he loved you or not, you just wanted him to be healthy and happy, you never wanted this world to turn with out him on it. All you needed was to know he was alive and living his life with out apology as he always done. However, for ripping you away from all you held dear, for taking away choices that weren’t his to take, to be lied to and tricked and avoided - there was a limit even for the one you loved so dearly.

Grabbing him by his collar and yanking his ear up to your mouth and whisper to him, your voice laced with apathetic resignation.

“Be pleased, Jude. You’re getting what you wanted since the time we met, my disappearing from your world, to live in the light……or maybe I shall go dwell in an even darker place than you do now? Who knows, maybe I’ll even become an enemy to Crown one day, and you’ll get to kill me yourself?”

Shoving Jude with as much power as you could muster, he fell backward on his bottom and watching you walk out of his life like a figment of his imagination, and like the flicker of a flame from a candle going out, you disappeared.

True to your word, every day for the rest of his life he relived the death of your love on the dock that day, your words echoing inside him from the moment he woke up and into the depths of the very fabric of his dreams, driving him mad. Go to a darker place? Become an enemy to Crown? What did any of it mean? Who were you with and where were you?

Thinking back to the day he saved you from the river, your first kiss with him, he should’ve kissed you more sweetly, and held you more closely. He should’ve never let you go that day. As Jude was tormented by such thoughts day in and day out, the poison of your vengeful last kiss sank so deeply into the marrow of his bones, that if he ever lay eyes on you again, surely you’d both fall asleep in death together.

@ichigostellaglynn @atelierquinn @mrslelouch

[blukrown]

To Do (Me) List - Gaz/Price

GAZ WEEK 2023 - SEXTING

Gaz is out at the shops when he receives a text from Price. It appears this Sunday morning Price woke to begin causing mischief.

Or read on AO3

Contains: NSFW, Sexting & erections in public,

It was mid-morning on a Sunday and Gaz found himself walking down the aisles at the local grocery store. Basket in one hand, phone in the other as he looked over his shopping list.

He usually went on these outings with Price, relishing how they would hold hands as they walked past the shelves. Talking quietly to each other as they went through their list, debating over brands and wondering over pricing.

The only reason Gaz was alone on this trip was that he had wanted Price to sleep in. Sunday was the one day Price swore off from any work, unless he drastically needed more time to complete things. Which had been the case for the past two weeks. Now, finally, Price had forsworn to not touch a single paper or pen so help him god. So, in an attempt to allow Price all the rest he needed, he had left Price still asleep in bed to go to the shops. 

They had needed supplies anyway, just a few essentials like bread and milk. Gaz was even considering going all out and getting Price a whole breakfast and lunch to bring home with him, although he had not yet decided what to get.

Gaz paused in the bread aisle, looking over the selection and wondering if he should go freshly baked or presliced. Still debating over which, his phone suddenly went off in his hand. Making him pause to look.

John: Where are you?

Gaz couldn’t help but smile, clearly he had woken up and noted him missing from bed. He only hoped he hadn’t worried Price too much with his absence.

Kyle: Shops

Simple, Gaz was just hovering over taking a packet of sliced whole wheat when another text came.

Price: Shame. The beds cold

Gaz let out a small chuckle, forgetting how clingy and grumpy the older man was first thing in the morning. Deciding to play into it, he responded.

Kyle: I wont be long. Just picking up some things, we were low on milk. Need anything?

Gaz saw Price pause to reply, so Gaz had looked away and took the packaged bread from the shelf into his basket. But then he started to ponder over the fresh loaf again since it would be perfect for breakfast in bed for Price.

Speaking of, there was another buzz to notify another text. Then another soon after.

John: No. Just you.

There was then an attached picture that made Gaz audibly splutter as he beheld it. It was a picture of Price’s chest downwards, lounging in bed with the sheets kicked aside. He wore the same grey boxers Gaz had left him in but a visible tenting was occurring in the crotch. One of Price’s large, veined hands holding at the clothed base.

Gaz felt his skin warm and arousal pool in his lower stomach. Holy shit.

Price rarely sent things like this. In fact, it was usually Gaz who sent implicit or straight-up elicit pictures during the daylight hours, aiming for a reaction. Price was so used to the habit that he had Gaz’s messages on silent during the working hours. Knowing if it was an emergency, Gaz would call. But nearly all texts were crude and inappropriate for work.

To have that Price, sending something like this had Gaz snatching the fresh bread up and dumping it into his basket, not realising he now had two loafs. His thumbs immediatley on the screen keyboard and typing.

Kyle: Damn John

It was a bit of a dumb thing to say in response to a half-hidden dick pic, but at least it was an honest reaction. 

To Gaz’s relief and horror, Price was quick to respond.

John: You going to help me?

Gaz felt himself biting his bottom lip. God, did he want to. But he was in the middle of shopping and still had several things to pick up.

Kyle: I can’t I need to finish shopping

Price: Suit yourself

It was a cold and very clearly dissatisfied reply and Gaz sighed. Boy, what a heart attack.

Thinking he was in the clear, he tucked his phone away as he walked to the milk fridge. Trying to ignore the slight chub in his pants, he did his best to focus on the task at hand. Price was a patient man, he would surely be able to-

There was another vibration from Gaz’s pocket and felt an immediate inkling of dread as he pulled out his phone. Price had sent another attachment, no message.

Curious, Gaz opened the attachment.

For context, Gaz was a young man and usually had the forethought to have his phone on silent when out in public. Clearly, he had forgotten to do so, as, when he opened the video it was audible. Not loud, but the noise was discernable to a few nearby people as the distinct noise of Price jerking off played through the speaker.

Gaz swore and hurriedly silenced the damn thing, not without attracting a few questioning looks from an elderly couple and a teenage staff member stocking shelves. Gaz felt the burn of embarrassment, hurriedly getting a jug of milk - not realising it was skim, not full cream - and retreated to a quiet aisle.

Now out of sight, Gaz, rather stupidly, reopened the video.

It was still of that same view, Price’s abdomen downwards but his briefs were gone. And it was a sight for eager eyes.

Price’s hand was on his own cock, fingers squeezing in a firm grip as he dragged from tip to base. Gaz could almost here the video - although he was certain it was on silent - Price eliciting sweet, shiver-inducing grunts with each pass of his hand. The slick noises and grunts being more than enough to be inappropriate even without the visual. 

God, the visual.

Gaz could probably stare at the sight for hours. How Price’s broad chest and stomach rose in quickened breaths. How his thick, hairy thighs tensed in pleasure. How, at one point, a dribbling of pre glistened at the tip and slid down the shaft over Price’s hand.

Gaz could have probably watched it for ages if it wasn't for the sound of a trolly entering his deserted aisle. Forcing him to close the video to see the message conversation, hurriedly hiding his growing erection with his basket as a tired-looking nurse in scrubs walked past.

Still hiding the nearly fully sprout arousal, Gaz furiously texted out a message.

Kyle: Jesus John, you trying to kill me?

Price: Perhaps. You coming home or what?

Gaz quickly checked his list. He just needed to go to the butchers, then he was home free.

Kyle: Just give me 5 min I’m almost done

Price: Alright, but I’m not making any promises

Gaz took that as a threat, knowing full well that Price would have a fun time on his own if Gaz didn’t hurry the fuck up. Cursing under his breath, Gaz raced at speed-walking pace to the butcher’s section of the shop.

To Gaz’s silent misery, there was a cue. Two customers, waiting patiently for the one older butcher to complete orders. Gaz would have given up but Price’s favorite cut of bacon was sold there and if he was going to commit to this breakfast-in-bed ordeal, then dammit, he would commit .

So while he waited, Gaz went on his phone. Mindlessly scrolling throughsocial media, thankful his arousal was cooling down enough to not be visible anymore. Just as he was waiting next in line, Gaz got another notification from Price.

Gaz looked around, ensuring no unsuspecting hangers-on could see before daringly opening the message screen. 

Price: Want you inside, Kyle. Can’t wait much longer

Along with the already jaw-dropping message was a picture. Price had positioned his camera without his hands, positioning himself with his legs spread and ass held open with his hands. His hole completely visible and already slickened with lube, widened from their previous night’s activities. Gaz felt himself harden again, felt how his jeans squeezed at his hardening cock as he examined each and every pixel of that damn photo. Fuck, he had to get home. Even such a delicious picture would surely not be as good as the real thing.

God, the real thing . Gaz could almost imagine it now. The hot, flushing heat as he pushed in. How Price would squeeze and tense around and below him. Would coo and hum out Gaz’s name like it was his favorite word. The pure filth of slapping skin and heaving breath as Gaz fucked into Price’s ass with hungered fury, leaving Price breathless and near keening. Praising him for being such a good boy, his good boy. Being so kind as to allow Gaz to cum inside, letting him paint his walls with his-

“Sir, order?”

Gaz gasped as he was snapped out of his lewd imaginings to look at the butcher.

“Uh- Um, yes!” Gaz blustered, fumbling with his phone and almost dropping it as he closed Price’s immodesty to find his list. “Er-Um, let’s see uh-” 

Eventually, Gaz gave his order, embarrassing himself in front of the butcher and a few other customers who watched his rather pathetic mumblings. Gladly taking the paper-wrapped package, Gaz wasted no more time. Going through express checkout with his hands in his jacket pocket and pushing the ends of which down to hide an erection that was not planning on leaving.

Thanking himself for parking near the entrance, he raced to his car and got in. Making quick work of driving the less than 2 minutes home, safely. But with more than one shortcut as he couldn’t stand waiting at red lights on the main route.

Parking right outside Price’s house, Gaz was a hurried blurr of a horny mess as he got his keys and bag of shopping before speeding to the door. Just outside, rearranging his hands to unlock the door, to his horror, the keys slipped and fell to the ground.

Gaz almost wanted to groan, so desperate to get inside and have at his older partner who may surely be needing him still. Grasping for his keys, Gaz was so tempted to shout to Price’s bedroom window that he was nearly there and to please, please , don’t finish.

The door finally unlocked, Gaz abandoned his shopping on the counter and ran up the stairs. Forgetting about his jacket or shoes and opening the bedroom door.

Price was on the bed, hand between his legs as he fingered himself open. Pausing as he saw Gaz come in.

Price frowned, “Where the bloody hell have you been? Get over here.” He ordered although pink cheeks and out-of-paced breaths contradicted the bite in his tone.

“Yes sir,” Gaz said agreeably, not even bothering to strip. Going straight to the bed and climbing atop.

“Hurry,” Price said in a hastened but eager voice, legs welcoming Gaz between them.

Watching eagerly as Gaz pulled his cock out and stroked himself a few times to reach pure fullness. No foreplay, no teasing, Gaz aligned himself and pushed inside.

Both men gasped as bliss overtook them. Barely even pausing for a second, barely even savoring it before Gaz began to move.

Fucking into Price with eager fervour, hands at the older man’s waist to keep him steady and making each thrust smooth. Pressing in until the hilt, hitting that most pleasing of spots that made Price almost yelp each time.

Price must have built himself up a sizable amount before Gaz arrived, needing only a few moments of fevered thrusts before he was warning Gaz.

“‘M close. Kyle, I’m close. Fuck, don’t fucking stop. Even after I cum don’t stop till you finish, alrigh’? You’ll be a good boy for me and cum inside, ok? Be good and take everything that you need.”

Gaz could only nod, his brain half melted by pleasure as he just kept going. Hips slapping against lower thighs gasps and groans unrestrained and unabashed.

Price did not even reach to touch his ignored, irritated cock. Cumming untouched with just Gaz’s deep, pleasurably strokes to guide him through. The older man’s hands holding- no grasping onto Gaz’s hips. Tugging him, urging him to go deeper with each thrust even as his climax had him crashing.

Wanting to obey, wanting to take what was his, Gaz pushed Price’s legs forward. Knowing Price’s flexibility, he bent Price into a mating press mounted half on top and fucked into him, unbidden and selfishly taking what he wanted. Having at Price as he had wanted to all the way home from the shops. Paying him back for embarrassing him in public, risking people seeing him in an unpleasantly aroused state.

Gaz came not long after, whining Price’s name and soothed by soft croonings from his partner. “Good lad. So good for me. You fucked me so well, take what you want. Fill me up and make me all yours. That’s it. Good boy.”

Gaz spilled inside and painted Price’s walls with his seed. The bedroom quickly fell silent apart from harsh breaths as Gaz stilled. Giving both of them a moment to calm and relax, Gaz slowly pulled away and out. Leaning over to kiss at Price’s cheek and forehead that was slickened with cooling sweat.

“Jesus, for an old man you sure have a youthful libido.” Gaz said teasingly.

Price snorted, kicking at Gaz to get off him. “Piss off, need a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll make you breakfast.” Gaz said as he got to his feet and tucked himself back into his pants.

Price smiled, “You’re too kind. You spoil this old man.” His smile then disappeared as he noticed Kyle’s attire, still wearing jeans, jumper, jacket and shoes. “Did you just fuck me, in your shoes, on our BED?!”

Gaz - having been lust blind and not even thinking to strip before arriving by Price’s side - looked down at himself. “Ah, shit. My bad, John.”

“You’re bad- You probably got dirt all over our bed!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass! Get the bed cleaned!”

“What about breakfast?” Gaz said, eyes softening in a pleading look to fight back against Price’s annoyance.

“That can wait.” Price said with gritted teeth as he got to his feet. “Bed first, then breakfast.”

Gaz sighed, visibly moping. “Yes, sir.” 

Price must have taken pity, his irritation ebbing to step close and kiss him on the forehead. “And don’t go out on your own next time. Wait for me, you young ones are so impatient.”

Gaz could only laugh, following his partner’s demands and getting a clean set of sheets.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

@silmarillionepistolary Lord Maedhros of Himring

Prince Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol of The Noldor

I’ve sent my latest ledger alongside this and I believe you know by now that there is no chance of you finding a fault with it so let’s not shall we? You will not be able to prove anything with any group of accountants you can cobble together from those battle fixated imbeciles in your employ and it’s not as if I intend to withhold aught from you.

I agree begrudgingly that we must approach things from a united perspective, why I even agreed to give Celegorm a loan recently, for military matters apparently though I have my doubts, and I certainly won’t see a coin of it returned without having to write him much more persistently than I like to. He’ll yield eventually, he always does. Though it would be faster if you applied some pressure as well I’m close to getting Ambarussa on side and he’s always been putty in their hands so your assistance isn’t strictly necessary this time.

I am aware that when you talk about the risks of fighting amongst ourselves you are including the Arafinwean and Nolofinwean elements but I am simply electing to ignore that excessively ambitious request. The only ‘us’ that matters to any extent here is the seven of us and our followers and I think, considering I would say those relationships are all in a relatively good place presently, you should cut your losses and accept the win on that front.

You can’t fix all the Noldor, Maedhros, and the sooner you manage to accept that the better as far as I’m concerned. Besides, from what I hear of your own particular diplomatic skills in regards to a certain Nolofinwean you should have an in there no matter what the rest of us do. Curufin and I think you don’t take advantage of it anyone near regularly enough when all of Beleriand knows he would not refuse you any favour you may ask of him but I suppose that’s your own prerogative; we can count on his support on the more dire situations for your sake which is something in any case.

I trust my last shipment of wool will have reached you by the time you receive this; which is all for the better considering I have heard from reliable sources (Maglor but even so) that the weather has taken a sharp turn into an early winter. It was your decision to settle so far north when you could have shunted it on to those Arafinwean brats so you shan’t get my sympathy on that matter but it wouldn’t do for us to lose our mannish recruits to the cold, without all the soldiers we can get our position in the north will quickly become untenable.

In reference to your last letter I do wish that you would stop nagging me about said Arafinwean brats, Nelyo, I have been entirely well behaved in my dealings with them in recent months and am entitled to place whatever taxes I wish on my own exports. If they are unhappy with this they can go elsewhere, they certainly shouldn’t go whining to my older brother to get a discount on my perfectly standard rates.

The disparity you pointed out between their rates and your own was entirely unfounded as I am naturally giving you a discount as head of the house of Feanor and my boneheaded older brother who decided he’d like to freeze to death while fighting off Morgoth armed only with fury. So really you should be thanking me but I am used to receiving no gratitude for my efforts with this family so I shall let it slide.

As for the comparisons you drew between other rates and their’s, if you had time to peruse them I have a list of criteria for which I give lower prices and why they apply to specific groups, ledgers upon ledgers of meticulous, complex calculations, Nelyo dear. Dorothion just happens to meet none of them by pure chance.

On the matter of my trade to the west I think the plan you detailed in your last letter sounded quite satisfactory. I assume you have already begun on having the diplomatic groundwork laid down so we receive ample credit as the benevolent saviours of their economy for the deal I ran by you?

It’s rather ingenious I have to say, I’m sure your end of it will work perfectly and you needn’t worry about the wording of the deal itself, it’s quite brilliant if I do say so myself. Irreproachable really, Fingolfin won’t be able to find any justification to turn it down without looking hopelessly petty. Maybe have Maglor spread a bit of propaganda, some catchy song with subliminal messaging and the like, he’s quite useful for that I suppose. It’s a pleasure doing business with you as always.

I should pay a visit to Himring next summer if all goes to plan, I would only be staying about three months mind; it’s looking to be a busy year and I’ve already got two important trade deals lined up for the autumn that I should be east for at the final stages. I warn you this far in advance because I know your Fingon tends to travel north in the warmer months and I’m sure you would like to avoid any overlap after last time with Curufin.

I recommend you issue an official invitation for a state visit soon, it makes it simpler to write things off as diplomatic expenses on my payments to Fingolfin and it is going to be a hard winter after all. I look forward to it, I haven’t seen you in quite some time now, I miss you. Keep an eye on Maglor, his expenditure has been lower than usual recently and while it hasn’t crossed the threshold of a concerning change best watch for anything out of the ordinary.

No I am not giving you a source for my information on his accounts, I have my ways and I’ll leave it there. On an entirely unrelated note now would be an excellent time to see if Belegost may be more open to a military agreement with Himring than it was previously. I have my ways.

The Lord Caranthir of Thargelion

Prince Morifinwë Carnistir of The Noldor

[whatlovelybones-if]

I absolutely adore Salem and if you don't mind and if it's not spoilers, I have some questions. How did Salem and Mc meet and how old was the Mc when they first met Salem?

i’m just throwing crumbs from the actual book at y’all atp smh not that i’m complaining under the cut in case y’all wanna avoid spoilers

a kitten jumps over the fence with a speed so fast that it seemed like a black blur to the passersby. she runs on her little feet, scratches adorning her belly and paws and black fur slightly matted with blood. she couldn’t be more than a month old and looks extra small with ribs sticking out and her big green eyes staying on alert.

two dogs sprint after her, strays with large muzzles and jaws which could break her ribs in pieces if they ever bite down on her small body. the cat knows that turning around or stopping will not end well for her. so she runs. she runs with swift feet and a rapidly beating heart.

she would outrun them today, tomorrow, and however many times she has to. this is the price she has to pay for living in a dog-eats-dog kind of world. to survive, you must run. especially with her size, she was never going to soundly defeat those two dogs.

she knew she had made a mistake as soon as she entered the uncharted territory behind the diner. what was even more stupid was that she decided to dig through the large trashcan anyway, searching for any scraps thrown out by the diner.

it was the smaller dog which noticed her first, immediately growling and giving away his position. the sheer timing of that was the only reason why the cat managed to get out of the way when the other dog pounced on her. to her tiny frame, they were titans armed with big, sharp teeth and aggression. and she was nothing but someone trying to live another day.

the little cat did not go without a fight though. she jumped on the larger dog, scratching one of his eyes and leaving him to whimper in pain. the other dog backs away for a second, before gearing up to strike her. she uses the injured dog as a leverage to jump and leave a deep gash on the smaller one.

he yowls and smacks her away with his sharp claw, causing deep gashes on her belly. she shakes her body, trying to get rid of the sudden dizziness and pain which assaulted her at the impact. when she senses one of the dogs leaning in to smell her, she hisses ferociously with an anger of a lioness and lands another swipe of her claws.

she wasted no time in just running with no destination in mind. the little cat didn’t care where she was going, she just wanted to be rid of her two aggressive pursuers who were still on her tail.

this was when she noticed a manor in the distance, looming like a menacing shadow over its premise. she also saw someone coming out of there, walking to a car parked nearby. the little cat didn’t think any further as she darted towards them, slowing herself down to a pace.

the person stops in their track and tilts their head in interest as she walks closer, meowing and making sure to show off the slight limp in her leg. they frown and immediately crouch down, taking off their gloves to reach their hand forward so she could sniff them and get familiar. the little cat contemplates what to do just for a while before she comes closer and runs her head against their hand after sniffing.

she couldn’t understand it herself but the person exuded a protective and warm aura, despite the coldness of their hands. they coo at her as she gets more confident and rubs herself all over their white coat, purring like an engine going haywire.

“are you hurt, you sweet little thing?” they ask in a fond but worried voice, fingers scratching near her tail in a way which makes her lift her lower half up. she all but meows repeatedly in confirmation.

that is all it takes for the person to gently scoop her up in their arms while taking care not to hurt her. the kitten purrs even louder—feeling comfortable and loved like this was a new but welcomed feeling.

“it’s alright, darling,” the person coos in a reassuring voice, softly scratching behind her ear. “we’ll get you all patched up, okay?”

the kitten meows and paws at their arms, as if making tiny biscuits and it brings a genuinely amused laugh out of them. it abruptly stops when she notices, at the same time as them, the two dogs prowling and watching from a distance. they seem to hesitate, as if something was holding them back. but her nose had always been good, and she could detect exactly what they smelled of.

fear. the most primal kind. fear of what exactly, she couldn’t tell, but it wafted off of them like rotten fish. the mere whiff of it raised her hackles and she hisses at them, this time even fiercer than before.

“i think what she is trying to say here is that you should leave,” the person’s voice was colder enough to freeze hell over. “now.”

“i’m guessing they’re the ones who did this to you,” the person says, examining her and looking over the fresh wounds. “you’re a brave little girl though, aren’t you?”

the pair didn’t need to be told twice as they yelped and ran, tails between their legs in the opposite direction.

the kitten meows and nestles into them further, enjoying their embrace.

“how about a name, hmm?” they scratch her chin fondly. “what about salem? fits you quite well, doesn’t it?”

the kitten, now named salem, purrs in approval. the person chuckles, holding her close and pressing a kiss on her head. salem meows and paws at the collar of their coat playfully.

“looks like we’re gonna have lots of adventures together, little salem.”