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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Happy Easter Hun, I was wondering if you could do dark! Joel miller x reader where Joel's the neighbor next door and creeps into your house at night and just fucks you some CNC? Thanks queen✨

Sleeping beauty

700 | dark!Joel x f!Reader | master list

A/N: mood board by @milla-frenchy 🖤. Sounds like night walks vibes, maybe a timeline divergence or a future where you've admitted to yourself and Joel that you like it when he takes you forcefully and anything in this fic is on the table. This includes ideas from @xdaddysprincessxx @dark-scape , and anon. Can read alone.

WARNINGS: 18+ NSFW CNC (r^pe kink/consensual non-con, he knows she wants a struggle), unsafe PIV, noncon somnophilia (in ur sleep), drugs (chloroform), restraints, gagging, forced orgasm, forced breeding, maybe more idk he's a menace.

--------------------

"Shhhhhhhh." A hand covers your mouth. Your eyes blink open, and as you adjust to the dark, there's a brief moment of panic when you see his head so close to yours. He's straddling you, pinning you to the bed while he tugs your panties down. Your shirt has already been pulled up over your tits. When your panties are down to your knees, his hand engulfs your dripping seam. "Dreamin' of me, pumpkin?"

Maybe you were.

His fingers slide up and down together, then circle your clit. You're already knotting with tension. He plunges two digits into you and your hips reflexively lift into his hand. You try to roll away from him, but you're no match for his strength. As your eyes adjust, you can see the silhouette of his messy hair in the moonlight and his arm muscles burst out of his tight, white t-shirt as he holds you down. You've never seen such bulky triceps.

"One word and I’ll put you out," he warns before slowly lifting his hand off your mouth.

He pulls down the waistband of his PJ pants and rests them under his balls. His thick, stiff cock stands menacingly at attention.

"Damn you looked hot dreamin' about this cock." His voice is low and gruff.

His knee pries your legs open. His hand guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, then he shoves himself into you with a grunt and you sigh.

"Sleepin' Beauty," he whispers as he retreats. He plunges into you full-force again and bottoms out with a muted groan. His neck veins bulge.

“Sure are filthy for a Disney princess.”

He lowers his head to your neck and sucks as he rams his stiff cock into you rhythmically.

"Takin' this cock real good," he whispers as he pounds you. Your core tightens with tension as he fills you up.

He drags his beard across your jaw, scratching you, then he latches onto your neck again, sucks harder, and marks you.

The word falls out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Don’t.”

He sighs. “What’d I tell ya princess?”

He reaches down by your bed where he stashed his bag, then covers your mouth and nose with a mysterious, damp rag.

When you wake up, he’s still inside you. Railing you. There’s a cloth gag in your mouth. Your knees are up, legs spread, with him in between. Your wrists are tied to your shins with shoelaces. He pauses, all the way inside you.

"Look what I found,” he says and turns on your vibrator. You were using it earlier tonight while he watched you from outside. He thought about interrupting you but spilled his cum in your grass instead and decided to come back later.

He brings the toy right to your clit and firmly presses it into you. He starts fucking you slowly again, his thick cock filling you up each time. He sets it there for a minute and moves the vibrator against you with his hips. He grunts and groans softly.

Your back arches as your insides tighten and release, and he groans "yeeeeah, yeah, c'mon baby."

He's not done with you yet. He goes harder. You gasp and squirm at the overstimulation and he holds you still with his arm.

"Attta girl, let it ride princess."

Your eyes prickle with tears and your body can hardly take it. He looks to be struggling too. Holding his breath and randomly releasing it.

Every few thrusts, he bottoms out and lingers deep inside, slowly rocking his hips into you, his tip grinding against your g-spot.

It isn't long before you come full force again. And thank God, when your tight cunt begins to choke him, he groans with a shudder then erupts inside you. He thrusts into you slower as he empties his balls with a loud sigh.

He ungags you, then collapses with his head between your legs. As his cum trickles out of you, he puts it back in with his fingers. He rests his head on your inner thigh. He looks up at you for a moment. You can only see half his face in the moonlight but he raises his eyebrows and his lips barely curl into a faint smile that says yeah, you like it. Then, he returns his attention between your legs. He gives your clit a kiss and whispers to your cunt, "sleep tight" before disappearing into the night.

Btw the restraints/position/was from @xdaddysprincessxx, vibrator & forced orgasm from @xdaddysprincessxx and Anon, resting his head and looking up at you from @dark-scape

NW: @tehweeana @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione

If you wanted to be tagged in night walks stuff please remind me 😫 can't find the list lmao

Also trying to figure out if I should even post every ask when there are multiple combined in an answer. There are some days where I'll get like, a lot, and often a couple are similar, which is cool. I just don't wanna spam people with notifs on so I might stop answering them all with a link, IF I can bear to delete them lol.

#night walks!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #joel miller fic #toxicanonymity ☠️#nightwalks☠️

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 4 months

Text

The Fate Of A Fae - Part 4

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Chapter Summary: The reader has a surprise caller..................or two.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of past historic abuse.

There’s a distant voice in your head, stirring you from sleep. Somewhere between asleep and awake the voice seems to get louder and more panicked. It isn’t until you’re pulled against a warm chest and the whiff of expensive cologne spread up your nose that you fully wake up. You start to sob into the chest when you realise the voice is familiar.

Tony.

“Kid what happened?”

“I…..” and the crying continued.

“Shhhhhhhh it’s OK, we’ll figure it out, shhhhhhh.”

After ten minutes of Tony shushing and comforting you and crying all over him you’d started to calm down. A realisation washed over you as you realised Tony had got into your apartment.

“How’d you get in?”

“Sweetie, I made the security system remember?”

You pushed back off his chest and looked up at him.

“So you just let yourself in?”

“Oh hush” he replied pulling you back into his chest “I knew you were home and you weren’t answering and I could spell the blood.”

Tony wasn’t a dragon but his father was, meaning the acute sense of smell was passed on.

“Blood?”

“Your feet and legs sweetie.”

You looked down to see your legs and feet had a scattering of small cuts.

“For fuck sake.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” asked Tony.

“Not really.”

“Can I say something?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, knowing he’d say it whether you agreed or not. “Would it be so bad if you at least spoke to them?”

“Yes, it would be.”

“I don’t know what happened to you kid but”

“Don’t, you won’t get it.”

“Probably not, but you’re not the only one with asshole parents. Sure they weren’t violent but my dad could be a really piece of work. When it became clear at eighteen I was definitely like Mom, and not him, he didn’t speak to me for a year, cut my allowance and nearly didn’t pay for college.”

“Tony, I had to steal food as a kid, this isn’t the same.”

“Hang on, I’m not done, listen to my un-relatable, yet relatable story.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Listen, when i say he didn’t talk to me I mean he didn’t even acknowledge my presence. That Christmas he crossed his name out on the gift tags and instead he passed me an envelope. A cheque for a million dollars and permission for early access to my trust fund. There was a leaflet with it about forced transfer.”

You felt sick. Forced transfer was painful, invasive and inhumane but had been common practice twenty years ago and back. Your parents would have put you in for it if they could have afforded it.

“What happened?”

“Well mom’s DNA turned out to be the strongest and his old age dragon wasn’t as strong as he thought. It wasn’t until I met Barnes that I actually realised how big dragons were, which I know sounds ridiculous. Dad had been select in his friends and made sure they were a mix of types, dragons included but always smaller than him.”

“I’m so sorry Tony.”

“Don’t be. The blood test and Mom threatening to divorce him put a stop to it. I may not know your full story kid but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” you replied.

“That the asshole family had something to do with your lacking of wings and pointy ears.”

And with that the tears came again.

“They won’t want me Tony. They won’t want me when they know.”

“Doll?”

Fuck. Shit. Bucky was in your apartment.

#avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers fanfic #bucky fanfic #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #monster au #fae reader #fairy reader #marvel fanfiction #faerie

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legacyshenanigans · 11 months

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What about marvolo seeing MC dad in the den? Like the muggers there are randomly picked right? Imagine marvolo seeing Mc dad and having to het him out of there?

Oh my god, imagine! I can do a little drabble on this, sure 💚

MCs Dad at the Den 🐍

Marvolo went to walk into a room with Rowan to see to the muggle who was in there tied to a chair. Upon seeing the man, who was looking down and weeping, Marvolos eyes quickly widened as he panicked, grabbing Rowan and harshly hiding back on the other side of the door.

Rowan: Oof! What are ya doin' ?

Marvolo: Shhh! *speaks aggressively but in a hushed tone* Get him the FUCK out of here!

Rowan: (?!) *confused expression* You know this muggle or somethin' ? Heh...

Marvolo: *rubs his eyes in irritation* Yes!...He's...*sigh*...He's my partners fucking father. Of all damn fucking people..

Rowan stood for a moment a look of pure and utter confusion still on his face..

Rowan: That muggle?

Marvolo: Yes.

Rowan: Your partners Father?

Marvolo: Yes!

Rowan: ... Your missus is a half breed?!

Marvolo: *sigh*...Yes, Rowan, for fuck sake. He can NOT be harmed.

Rowan: Well, shit...Heh. you're the boss. Shame though, I was itching to have some fun.

Marvolo: And you shall, but not with him, go and get me a mask or something..

Rowan: Huh?

Marvolo: a Mask! Quickly now *claps his hands at his right hand man, making Rowan quickly run off*

Marvolo entered the room in a full head mask, and walked slowly over to MCs father, he looked up and panicked.

Father: P-Please! Don't hurt me! PLEASE!

Marvolo: Shhhhhhhh.

Father: *shaking and heavy breathing*

Marvolo walked and stood behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and bringing his wand up to MCs fathers neck, he began to cry and plea quietly again. Marvolo used a sleep charm, making him instantly pass out, then used a memory charm before he ripped the mask off, throwing it onto the floor.

Marvolo: Rowan, get in here!

Rowan: *walks in*

Marvolo: *frowning* Take him back to muggle world, and, I dont know, put him somewhere SAFE.

Rowan: Did you use a memory charm on him?

Marvolo: No, didn't see the point, I want him to remember this terrifying moment.

Rowan: ..Really?

Marvolo: NO ROWAN, Of course I fucking did!...Now take him and GO..

#the gaunts hc #the gaunt family #marvolo gaunt hc #marvolo gaunt #marvolo gaunt headcanon

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punsmaster69 · 3 months

Text

17/JAN/20XX

at the same time, we narrowed our sockets at each other.

"...."

"YOU LOOK-"

"you look-"

"......."

"i'm sayin' it to you."

"I DEFINITELY STARTED FIRST."

"nuh uh."

"DON'T START THAT."

"ok. but."

"you-"

"YOU-"

"you look tired, papyrus."

"I KNOW. SO DO YOU."

"i know."

"...."

"AND, I ASSUME YOU'RE..."

"not chilling out unless you do."

"..YEAH."

"WHAT'S YOUR REASON?"

"for being tired?"

"YEAH."

"i, uh."

"simply couldn't get to sleep. racing mind, and all that."

"you?"

he stared blankly at me - almost through me, even - before pointing exhaustedly at the puzzle cube sitting by the couch and putting his face in his hands.

"jeez. i wouldn't have gotten that for you if i knew it was gonna wreck your sleep schedule."

his response was a sigh.

then a slam of his fists on the table.

"I WON'T LET IT DEFEAT ME!!"

"you're gonna rest, and 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 you can come back to it."

"WHAT?! I CAN'T GO BACK TO SLEEP NOW!!"

"why not?"

"you're not busy, are you?"

"NO."

"then why not?"

"BECAUSE IT WILL RUIN MY SCHEDULE. IF I SLEEP NOW, I'LL PROBABLY WAKE UP AT A WEIRD TIME LATER."

"nah."

"I WILL."

"what's your plan, then?"

"I'LL JUST STAY UP UNTIL THE NEXT TIME I'M SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED."

"the whole time??"

"THAT'LL SURELY FIX IT."

"okay.....no. it-"

" 'DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT?' "

"it doesn't."

"trust me, bro. i'm basically a sleeping expert."

"it really doesn't work like that. you'll end up sleeping far too much extra-"

"MAYBE IF YOU'RE TERRIBLE AT GETTING UP AT THE RIGHT TIME."

"-or you'll wake up but still be tired."

"....."

"BUT WHAT IF IT'S DIFFERENT WHEN 𝙄-"

(imagine here the various disgruntled sounds a skeleton makes while being dragged to the couch using blue magic.)

"YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE A LAZY SKELETON OUT OF ME!!"

"if you won't sleep, we can at least binge something. what do you wanna watch?"

"I WON'T HAVE THIS!"

"science show? nature stuff?"

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NEVER SUCCUMB TO YOUR LAZY WAYS!!"

"baking series?"

"......"

"alright."

"TURN ON THE CAPTIONS."

"yup."

——

every time he closed his eyes, they'd open again shortly after with a slight jolt.

"what?"

"WHAT WHAT?"

"why do you keep doing that?"

"DOING WHAT?"

"jostling around suddenly."

"I'M NOT."

"you are."

"WHEN?"

"just now."

"NO."

"yeah."

"...."

"why?"

"........"

"EVERY TIME I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE THE COLOURFUL SIDES OF AN UNCOMPLETED PUZZLE CUBE ROTATING IN MY MIND."

"so close your eyes. go solve it."

"WHY AREN'T 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ASLEEP BY NOW?"

"because of you."

"?"

"you expect me to fall asleep when you're over here twitching back awake every two seconds?"

"YES."

"..."

"YOU'VE DEFINITELY SLEPT THROUGH WORSE."

"i've been awake through better."

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE SANS."

"MAKE 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘."

covering my sockets with his hands. the gaps between papyrus' metacarpals made this ineffective.

"STOP SMILING, GO TO SLEEP."

"you first."

"I'LL TRY, BUT YOU HAVE TO AS WELL."

"i will."

"close your eyes."

"YOU TOO."

"close 'em."

"I WILL. STOP TALKING."

"ok."

"THAT COUNTS AS TALKING."

"yeah."

"SO STOP."

"ok."

"STOP."

"ok."

"SANS."

"papyrus."

"STOP."

"ok."

"AND DON'T SAY 'OK' ANYMORE!"

"okay."

"NOT THAT, EITHER!!"

"alright."

"SHHHHHHHH!!!!"

"........."

"....."

"ok."

"SANS!!"

#undertale #journal #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #papyrus and sans #skelebros

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snakxreader · 6 months

Note

ANOTHER ONE!

overworked journalist that Wammy forces to get some rest and gets them to fall asleep “like a dad figure”

I find asking this one quite ironic since like you know, the wammy ask from before, Triffanny has it

G O O D

A/N: DADBUS ASKS REALLL!!! I love doing parental asks, please gimme more/hj

Pretty fun to do, mildy based off personally experience/hj, I hope you enjoy!

Wambus and Journalist (Take a Break)

With every passing minute, their body felt like it was going to give way from exhaustion. But it wasn’t like they weren’t used to that feeling, so they did their best to roll with it. Buddy had been on a real catching spree as of lately, Donating to Gramble’s barn, helping Chandlo get his ‘gains’, the snax used to help Snorpy defend against the Grumpanati or whatever had happened to somebody in town. Of course, these started to wear on them and their friends noticed. Filbo in particular.

But it was fine. They were fine. They had to be, because who was going to do it otherwise?

Buddy stopped by Wambus’s farm for a second, to gather the sauces needed to gather the Bugsnax they needed today. The farmer noticed them, pausing in his work to greet them.

“Stranger! What brings you here so early?”

“Headed out to the Simmering Springs to catch some stuff for Beffica, she’s really obsessed with Snaquiri right now….” They said, swiping some Cholocate Sauce. “Amd Wiggle wants a Grapeskeeto….oh, and Snorpy wants a Pinkle for something….then I gotta backtrack to Sugarpine-”

“Uh…those are, uh, lotta requests…” Wambus frowned, eyebrows furrowed. He rested his weight against his hoe. “Shouldn’t you space those out?”

“It’s fine. Why not do them all today, right?” Buddy yawned, shaking themselves slightly as to not fall asleep. Wambus still looked unconvinced.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Buddy affirmed, preparing to head down to the Sinmering Springs. Their eyes were still heavy but other than the usual exhaustion, they coud run errands. Wouldn’t bet that hard. Snaquiri just had to be shot down with a bit of Sauce, and thye could used the chocolate to get Grapeskeeto, so really all they had to do was catch those, walk through the campfire, head to Sugarpine, catch the Sprinklepede, then make it back to Flavor Falls to-

Wait. Campfire?

They looked down. Oh, they were on fire. People were screaming.

Seems about right.

…..Oh grump, they’re on fire!!

Buddy ran around, kicking up as much dirt as they possibly could and stepping on their own feet in an attempt to put out the fire. Thankfully, they had only been set ablaze for a minute or so, letting it pamper out with only minor bits of singed fur. Buddy sighed.

“Buddy!” Filbo cried out, but Buddy brushed him off, intent to keep going, mumbling a quick apology.

And then, Buddy felt himself getting lifted into the air and slung a navy furred shoulder.

“Wha-?!”

“I’ve been watching ya for the past week as you ran yourself dry with different errands, ya need to lay down!” Wambus growled. “Now.”

“Wambus! Wambus, let me go!” Buddy tried to squirm their way out of Wambus’s grasp, only to fail everytime. He marched them to their hut, and plopped them on their bed, tucking them into the sheets. The journalist pouted, annoyed at the turn of events. They tried to get up, but Wambus refused to let them leave, keeping them under the blankets.

“Wambus!”

“Ya look like death, take a nap.”

“I don’t-”

“Shhhhhhhh….nap.” Wambus shushed them. “Don’t fight it, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m…I’m,,,” Buddy tried to struggle, but Wambsu was right. He was exhausted, sleep deprived and in a bit of pain. They laid against the pillow, feeling themselves get tucked in once more.

“I’m not tired. Just. Just a quick break.”

Wambus snorted. “Of course, Stranger.” He ruffled their hair and left their hut.

Buddy was asleep in less than two minutes.

#bugsnax #bugsnax x reader #wambus troubleham #bugsnax journalist #the journalist bugsnax #how ironic considering my last few requests/silly

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shearbolt · 9 months

Text

A Slice of Life Mini-fic That Pulls No Punches

Sarada doesn’t understand how doing both nothing and everything at the same time could be so hard.

Pacing back and forth across their kitchen floor, her breath hisses from between her teeth in a constant “shhhhhhhh.” The little black-haired lump, its limp head resting on her shoulder, is finally still.

She chances a glance down, standing beside their microwave, electric green display reading 4:59. Their baby’s face has faded from rage red to a slight flush, the single whisker line on her cheek visible once more.

Exhausted beyond measure, Sarada sits down at their kitchen table rather than making the long trek back up to their bedroom.

(Why had they even bothered decorating a nursery when it was only used to store the baby’s clothes?)

She stares at the inky sky outside, thinking about how a year ago, her alarm would have been going off. Some stretches, a quick shower, and she would have been off to Hokage Tower with her cloak on while Boruto was still facedown in bed, drooling on his pillow.

Now, he’s out on a mission and she’s here, alone with their daughter.

The first night, Sarada tried to assure herself that it was the “alone” part of the situation that bothered her.

By the second night, however, she had to acknowledge that it was the “with their daughter” aspect that was bothering her. Sarada had wanted to become a mother, but being a parent took more than she expected.

It isn’t the sleepless nights, though. The constant occupation of her body by a small, squalling stranger now occupying their once-quiet house.

The diapers… So many diapers.

What Sarada is worried about is if she’ll ever be herself again.

Over the past three years of being Hokage, her priorities were easy to understand: Protect the village at all costs, even that of her own life. And, she’d still do it, if that meant protecting her daughter as well.

Ah, but there was the rub. What does it actually mean to protect her daughter? Is it wearing a billowing white robe on the battlefield or is it sitting quietly in the dark, that tiny ear pressed against her chest to hear Sarada’s heart beat.

The worry had tickled at the back of her head during the baby’s first two weeks of life, but it wasn’t until Boruto left–proved that he was able to leave while she had to stay–that the weight of it all finally came crashing down.

Sarada tugs at the bottom of her baby’s gown, hiding her wrinkled little feet beneath the hem to keep them warm.

Of course, she and Boruto were a team. Both serious shinobi. But, if she was honest with herself, Sarada had always considered herself slightly more dedicated.

Where was that dedication now, sitting alone in a kitchen, both wanting to place her baby down in the bassinet beside their bed and run off to work while simultaneously unable to imagine ever putting the Hokage’s hat back on her head again?

It’s hard, she acknowledges.

Even harder when she’s facing it alone. Of course, Hinata had offered to come and stay while Boruto was on the mission—her own mother currently sitting behind the desk in Hokage tower—but, Sarada had said no.

She told her mother-in-law that she wanted time alone with the baby, when the truth was that it was hard to watch Hinata in her house, making every aspect of motherhood look so easy.

Is that what Sarada wants to be?

The baby hiccups and squirms in her sleep.

Is it possible to love something so much that you lose yourself?

The locks on the front door click before it opens and is slammed shut. The familiar sound of Boruto’s bags hitting the ground grates on her nerves (they had hooks on the wall, damn it!) Through the open doorway, she can see him sitting down to take off his shoes.

She doesn’t want to call out. Doesn’t want to wake the baby, so she says nothing as he dashes upstairs, then winces as his feet pound down them a second later.

He stands in the doorway, smiling. “Sarada!”

Ah, the village hero has valiantly returned to his home, ready to regale his wife and infant daughter with tales of his heroism! Or, maybe, tuck his hands behind his back and deliver a mission report.

She presses a stern finger to her lips, pointing down at their sleeping child.

In the dim light, Boruto’s shoulders slump, his one open eye drifting over them before his gaze lands on the floor.

Her heart immediately sinks.

Too harsh.

“How was your mission?” she whispers.

Her husband scratches at the patch of mud on his chin and shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”

Then he presses his lips together, voice as shy as the night he first asked her out. “Can I just hold my baby?”

Her eyes dart down to the tiny black head on her chest. “Yeah, of course.”

Boruto is beside the table before the words are even out of her mouth, pulling off his dirty jacket and blood-speckled t-shirt, stretching out his arms.

Sarada stands, gently transferring the sleeping bundle to his bare chest. She watches as Boruto breathes a sigh of relief, burying his nose into their child’s fine hair.

He slumps down in the chair across from her, eyes closed as he inhales and all the things Sarada wanted to say to him are suddenly stuck in her throat.

Because, sometimes life is going to be hard for both of them, wanting to do nothing and everything at once.

And maybe that’s okay.

~end

#boruto naruto next generations #borusara #parenting #sarada uchiha #boruto uzumaki

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vibratingskull · 5 months

Note

Thrawn and Che'ri bonding time 🥹

Girl, don't get me started... This is so self indulgent, let me believe that it actually happened

DAD/DAUGHTER MOMENTS

So Thrawn never had any children as we all know, but she's definitively the closest he will ever have for a daughter and he's reveling in that bond they share.

He loves to teach, and teaching he will with her. He helps her with her homework, teaches her to fly, teaches the basics of self defense combat, helps her with her drawings.

He even brings her to a studio for live modeling drawing (they keeped their clothes, don't freak out) and she went "Buddy, my guy, my man... That's too high level for me, I can't. I just draw fireflies and landscapes." And he just supports her throught the whole session, telling that she got it, that she can do it, that it looks great. And it does look great! She's very pleased with her final drawing and will keep going to the studio to practice.

Like in the magnificient art (done by @jun-c, shout out to them) he occasionally brought her with Thalias on Csilla for some sledge sessions and a little bit of Ice skating, she has a terrible balance at first and need to hold his hand but she quickly gets the gist of it.

Movie nights! Plenty of them, he will sit through all the animated movies and cartoon with her, circling her shoulders with his arm. They even ended up sleeping on top of each other in the Skywalker suite and Thalias had to woke them up.

He gots her art supplies for her starday and can't wait to try them with her. Paint, clay, felt-pens, embrodery frames, she gets to taste anything and everything.

Do'nt buy her toys cause he doesn't really knows with what children her age play with, he lets that to Thalias. Tried ONCE to buy her plushy and she winced, she too old for it now. (she hugs it each evening nonetheless but shhhhhhhh!)

She will beat his ass at any video games, no question asked.

Of course his favorite moment is their monthly game of Tactica together. He goes easy on her as she tries to grasp the basics of strategics games, with a cheese platter next to them. That's when he is in his true element and thrives, that's when he's the most expressive and open about his affection, so she keeps playing despite having her ass handed to her each game.

She once called him "dad" by accident, and while gently chastising her, that it was improper, his chest puffed up with pride and love.

We all know he would be a girl dad, so he's 100% into their bound, he cherishes it so much, can't have enough.

Tells her bedtimes stories, especially at the begining when she was younger, less now that she's a grown up. It pains his heart, but he's proud that she is growing up.

He actually draw along side her one time, and it was not good! At least she had a good laugh out of it!

Visits her when she's ill. Even if he remains professionnal and aloof he comes see here everyday.

He would be so supportive of her and her crushes, even if would be a bit worried but she's almost a teenager, that's her time. He would be cheering for her on the sideline if she went on dates, and she would tell him everything after.

She definitively got adopted by the Mitth after his exile, 100% wears his familly name now.

Once an adult she took a ship and flied to the planet they exiled Thrawn for closure. She didn't have hope to find him or anything, she just wanted to see for herself the last place he was (Ar'alani never told her anything about the Empire) and she had a good, freeing cry before coming back to the Ascendancy.

And finally Thrawn will come back to the Ascendancy with his new Empire behind him, save the day, save them all, hug her and will retire somewhere where she will visit him often (This will totally happen, I'm not delulu at all)

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

☆Tag list

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #che'ri #thalias #thrawn ascendancy #fanfic #vibratingskull

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blutomindpretzel · 2 years

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(It’s absolutely pouring rain where I’m from right now so here’s some rainy scenarios with the boys)

Milo holds Sweetheart during storms- every.single.time. It doesn’t matter where they are, these two are in each other’s arms. Not because they’re afraid, but they get so sleepy during heavy storms and just want to be in each other’s presence. (Plus Milo gets a lil jumpy sometimes through thunder and Sweetheart demands that they hold him)

Angel gets jumpy during storms despite reassuring David that they’re completely fine. They love watching the rain and hearing light thunder, but once some lightning strikes? Yeah right under the covers they go. Davey gets super grumpy about the whole thing and picks them up into his arms and gently talks to them. (He has such a relaxing voice ofc they knock tf out)

Asher just wants to go outside and jump in puddles- to which Babe acts like isn’t the cutest thing they’ve ever seen. He gets rly romantic and hungry so he sets up a whole pillow fort in the living room and holds Babe close.

If it gets super dark during the storm, Sam and Darlin are going on runs- and being extra careful of course.

Same for Vincent and Lovely (they’re absolutely the couple that dances in the rain laughing like maniacs) Sam watches them just rolling his eyes and grinning.

BUT LIKE IMAGINE SLEEPY RAINY AUDIOS SOFT BREATHING AND GENTLE KISSES (extra for Milo and sweetheart) ugh those two are completely wrapped around one another when they’re tired.

Freelancer gets super nervous during storms (reminds them of Kody- or when Kody would sneak up on them) so they like someone to at least hold their hand for a lil bit- and of course Gavin is glad to:

Lasko saw them getting really anxious around heavy storms/rain and he immediately knew why. He swallowed his anger towards Kody- the reason they were so antsy in the first place- and tried to help them in the best way possible. And of course that way was binging entire Netflix series in a whole day. Laskos rambling soothed the ache of anxiety and set aside room for relaxation- these two canonically cuddle there’s no way they don’t shhhhhhhh.

Damien is confused at first- as is Huxley, but they overheard Lasko talking about it a while back- who freaked out they got during storms- not necessarily scared- but incredibly on edge. HUXLEY TRAPS THEM IN GROUP CUDDLES WITH DAMIEN <33333

Gavin loves holding freelancer 10/10 hums them to sleep while petting their hair :)))

Elliot and Sunshine make hot-chocolate and watch Disney movies <3

#redacted asmr #redacted angel #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted lovely #redacted sam #redacted david shaw #redacted vincent #redacted lasko #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #ughhhhhh STORMS I LOVE STORMS

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starlight-shades · 8 months

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Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch. 4

• summary – Simon has a nightmare. Some GhostSoap domesticity. Price and Gaz are introduced.

• rating – M

• wordcount – 4.7k

• warnings – references to Ghost's backstory, mentions of previous character deaths

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 5

It was not a good night.

Shortly after Johnny left him, Duncan started crying, having been woken up by a nightmare. Simon had been shooed back to the couch.

According to Johnny, it was “his turn” to take the “night shift.”

He wasn’t sure how strongly he believed in taking shifts to care for the children, but it did give him the opportunity to watch the front door.

So there he laid, knife within easy reach, facing the front door. After the sounds of Johnny and the pups quieted in the other room, he was left with nothing but the sound of the storm outside for company.

Soon enough, Simon felt his eyelids growing heavy, but he resolutely decided not to sleep. He pressed his fingers into the wound on his shoulder, or rather what he could reach of it, allowing the pain to jolt him back to wakefulness. It was an exhausting cycle of being lulled to sleep only to tear himself away from the edge.

Pain was not a stranger to him, and he could master it, he told himself. Use it, make it good. He could be good. He could be strong and useful. He would be. He only had to stay awake, keep them safe.

He could hear a child’s laughter.

“You can’t catch me, Uncle Simon!”

“I bet I can!” he called back, his voice lighter and without its usual growl. Usual growl? What did that mean? This is how his voice had always sounded.

His cheeks hurt from the grin that stretched across his face. Uncle Simon was always smiling when he was with Joseph.

He pushed open the door leading to Tommy and Beth’s bedroom. His hand was smooth, no scars to be seen, not even the ones from basic.

Why would he have scars?

“Joseph!” he sing-singed. His nephew liked to hide among his parents’ clothes in their closet. Like anyone who played hide-and-seek regularly with the same child, he knew all of his nephew’s favorite hiding places. He was getting better at pretending like he didn’t, though.

“Come find me!”

He already had his hand on the knob. With a burst of speed, he popped open the closet doors.

When did Beth buy all these red clothes?

Where was Joseph?

Turning around, he found himself in front of the door to his nephew’s bedroom.

“Where are you?” he called. When Simon opened the door, he couldn’t find his boy there either.

“Where am I, Uncle Simon?” Joseph sounded like he was down the hall in Beth’s office, but when he got there, there was no sign of him.

“Joseph?”

He could feel his heart beating faster, and sweat forming on the back of his neck. It didn’t make sense. They were just playing hide-and-seek.

“Where are you, Uncle Simon?” he was starting to sound scared.

Why was Joseph scared?

He moved quickly to the stairs at the end of the hallway, making his way down the stairs. In his haste, Simon slipped on something wet. He felt something drip on his face, but when he wiped it away, his hand came back red.

His heart was pounding. There was a sinking feeling in his gut. There was something wrong.

“Uncle Simon!” Joseph was screaming now, he could hear the sobs.

“I’m coming, Joseph!” He launched himself down the last few steps.

“Where were you, Ghost? Where were you?”

“I’m sorry!” The sobs were his now. He had to wade into the living room, the blood flooding everywhere. It rose, higher and higher, it was at his mid-calf.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

He couldn’t hear Joseph anymore.

“I’m sorry!”

“Simon! Si, it’s okay!”

He blinked.

“Shhhhhhhh, it’s okay,” Johnny hushed. His voice sounded strained. He had his hands around Ghost’s wrists, rubbing his thumb along the sensitive skin on the inner side. Ghost’s hands were around his throat, squeezing. Hard.

He pushed himself off of Johnny immediately. They were on the floor. He must have rolled off the couch.

“You make it hard to forget you were military,” Johnny joked, his voice hoarse. When Ghost turned to look at him, he saw the skin around his neck was red, already almost purple in some spots. He was rubbing at it with one hand, the other pushing him up off the floor.

“I—“ he started, before Johnny cut him off.

“S’alright. You were having a nightmare.”

As if that was supposed to make it okay.

“Let me get you an ice pack…” He had tried so hard to be good, but at the end of the day, Simon was just as much a monster as Ghost.

Rooting around in his freezer revealed that he didn’t have any ice packs, so he grabbed a frozen steak, wrapping the package in a thin hand towel. When he returned to the living room, Johnny had settled onto the couch.

Simon knelt one knee on the cushion beside him and leaned forward, wordlessly pressing the cold steak to the bruising around his throat.

“You know this’ll get cleared up in a couple hours, right?”

He made eye contact, those bright, crystal-clear blues staring back at him. Johnny had a soft smirk. He was teasing him.

“Let me take care of you.”

Still smiling that stupid smile, Johnny spoke again. “This remind you of when we first met? Taking care of me?”

Simon was silent. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but even now he couldn’t say it did. The man he had met years ago was not the same as the man sitting in front of him. Maybe he wasn’t the same either.

Using his free hand, he gently tilted his face by his jaw, fingers running over the coarse stubble that never seemed to leave him. Simon inspected the bruising now that he could see his neck better. It was a deeper purple now, but some of it was starting to yellow. He knew that Johnny wasn’t lying when he said it would clear up. From previous experiences, the rapid rate of his healing was unsurprising, but it didn’t stop his need to make it okay, make it better.

“Who’s Joseph?”

Ghost stilled.

“You were saying his name,” he continued, voice soft. From his reaction, it was obvious that whatever he had been dreaming about was a sore subject.

“He’s dead.” When Simon spoke, it was gravelly. All of the violence of the past came and settled deep in his throat.

They were silent again.

That seemed to be happening more often, the silence. Johnny hadn’t ever pushed him before. Their friendship had settled into a rhythm, but now it was unseated. They were navigating new waters, and he didn’t know if he could swim.

The clap of thunder echoed in the space between them.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Johnny’s gaze was worried, his lips pressed together. Simon wanted to push that wrinkle between his brows and smooth it away. He was still touching him, his fingers light against his jaw.

Simon was the first to pull away, darting his eyes anywhere else to avoid seeing that look on Johnny’s face. He cleared his throat, and pulled his hand back to himself, fisting it to avoid touching him again.

“Right, then.”

As Simon went to pull the hand with the steak away, he felt the firm, but gentle pressure around his wrist. It forced him to look at Johnny again.

“Come to bed.”

He could feel his face heating, couldn’t tamp down the blush through sheer willpower.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch again,” Johnny spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to spook him. “Besides, I think the pups like cuddling with you better.”

Simon started to protest, “No, I—“

“I wasn’t able to sleep, it was too hot in there with all that fur,” he joked. “It’ll be better for me out here.”

Jaw clenched, he acquiesced with a short nod.

He stood, and Johnny started to settle down into the couch cushions, doing a little wiggle until he was satisfied with his position.

As Simon went to swipe his knife off the side table, he spoke up again, already sounding half-asleep.

“And don’t think that we won’t be talking about where you keep your guns. The kiddos may not have enough fingers to get into them yet, but they will.”

He gave him another nod, and promptly left the room, making his way down the hallway to his bedroom in an uncomfortable parallel to his dream.

As he approached the door, he could hear Duncan and Ailsa shuffling away from their spot where they had probably been eavesdropping. He pushed it open to find them settled into the bed, big innocent eyes looking up at him from the nest they had made of the pillows and blankets. Duncan had snuggled into the fleece throw he had brought back for him that afternoon. Ailsa had littered the bed with all of the plush toys he had bought, both the kind meant for children as well as the dog toys. When he looked at her, her tail started wagging, making a thump thump thump sound against the bed.

He sighed. They were safe.

“Alright scoot over.”

Simon climbed in with them, inevitably pressing down on a few squeakers. As he settled into the middle of the bed, he pulled out a wolf stuffy that pressed into the small of his back. When he was as comfortable as he was going to get, Duncan quickly found his favorite spot up against Simon’s side, head on his chest. Ailsa curled up on his other side, tucking herself against him where he could wrap his arm around her. Maybe Johnny had a point about the cuddling.

“Nae, Ma, stay home. Ah ken ye want to come an help, but the wee’uns are still settlin’ in, an we dinnae want to overwhelm them.”

Even having lived in this remote part of Scotland for a few years now had not prepared Simon for how thick Johnny’s accent got when he spoke with his mother.

“Mibbe la’er, when they’ve bin here a bit.”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the kitchen where Johnny had already started on a much more elaborate breakfast spread than Simon could have managed.

Johnny was waving a spatula around with one hand while he held his phone with the other, standing over the stove where some sort of hash was sizzling in the pan. His bruises had already mostly faded. Spotting Simon, he shooed him away from the food to the chair at the kitchen table before putting the kettle on.

“Aye, ahm sure, Ma. Ah jus’ need the advice.”

Simon watched him as he listened to his mother. They had discussed it the night before, calling her. According to Johnny, she had successfully raised three litters of pups, and was as happy as could be doting on his eldest sister’s first litter.

“Okay so, I’m the fourth from the first litter, and I’ve got three older sisters. My Da always jokes that they would have had more boys if my Ma hadn’t prayed so hard for girls. It was jus’ me an my brother, Callum, until Devon came out when he was fifteen. Ma’ was braggin’ that she had birthed across the whole gender spectrum when Rowan told us they’re nonbinary. Anyway, the second litter was the twins, and the third was Callum, and Devon, and my youngest sister, Mud. Yes, it’s a nickname.”

Simon had just stared in confusion, letting Johnny ramble. In the end he had learned all of Johnny’s siblings names, but he was not confident this morning that he could accurately recall all of them. Apparently, werewolves tended to have “litters” rather than one child at a time, and they could range anywhere from two to six pups, but the average was three.

He was startled out of his head when a steaming mug of tea, made just how he preferred it, was sat in front of him. Simon looked back up at Johnny who was already walking away, plating up a stack of triangle-shaped somethings.

“Aye, ahm still listening,” Johnny was saying. “Jus’ makin’ breakfast.”

Simon pushed up from the table, taking his mug with him, as he wandered back down the hallway. When he had gotten out of bed, Ailsa and Duncan were still out cold.

He watched them for a moment, leaning into the door frame. In the time he had spent in the kitchen, they had both moved to the spot where he had been, snuggling together in the depression his body had made. The early morning sunlight caught on all the individual strands of fur, making them look extra fluffy.

He stepped softly across the room, setting his mug down on the bedside table next to “Frankenstein”, a bookmark covered in ladybirds peeking out at him. Simon carefully sat, settling his weight on the edge of the bed so that he didn’t disturb the pups.

Starting with Duncan, he gently stroked down his head, letting his touch rouse him slowly. Sleep-hazy eyes blinked up at him slowly before clearing. Duncan wiggled until he was facing Simon, cuddling close in his lap before he closed his eyes again.

“None of that, dove, Johnny’s made breakfast,” Simon chuckled, but he kept petting Duncan’s velvety ears. Ailsa started making snuffling noises at the sound of his voice. She lifted her head, letting out a big yawn as she slowly woke up. Reaching out a hand to her, Simon gave her a few pets before gently scooting Duncan off his lap.

“Got to start the day,” he declared.

Both pups whined in response, determined to stay in the warmth of the bed.

“I guess Johnny and I will have to eat all of the breakfast since you’d rather sleep in.”

They perked up at that, and Ailsa barked at him, looking offended. Duncan just got up and hurried out of the room to the kitchen, almost tripping Simon on his way out. His sister quickly followed as to avoid getting left out.

“Oi!” he heard Johnny yell. “Wait for Si before you little muppets start!”

Making his way into the kitchen again, Simon found Ailsa with half of a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and Duncan’s muzzle covered in egg yolk. Johnny stood over them with another plate in each hand, loaded with food, his phone tucked against his shoulder.

“Aye, Mama, I’ll talk wit ye la’er. The wee’uns are up.” Simon watched as his face flamed a bright red from something his mother said. “Nae. It’s not like that.”

Johnny practically shoved one of the plates into Simon’s hand and gestured with his chin for him to sit. As soon as his butt was on the stool, Ailsa and Duncan dug into their breakfast. Simon sighed. Manners would take time.

“Aye, love you too.” As he hung up, Johnny let out a breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he sat at the table. “I ken I’ve convinced my ma t’ wait before she descends on us. She’s rather determined to meet you.”

Simon cocked a brow at that, taking a long drink of his tea before speaking. “But you told her we have it handled?”

Johnny nodded, wolfing down the food on his plate. “Aye, told her I’ve got you and the rest of my pack.”

He could feel his cheeks heat at the prospect of being included in Johnny’s pack now, but he hid it behind his mug, though at this point there was very little tea left.

“Speakin’ o’ which, they’ll be coming by later with some more of my stuff. I want to introduce you all too.” He turned to the pups at the last part, making sure they knew that they were included in that.

“Alright.” Simon had never met Johnny’s pack, but he spoke of them often enough that he had an idea of what they were like.

Later that afternoon, he was working on sanding the seat of the chair he was making when Johnny let out a long howl. They were all spending some time outside, Johnny once again in his wolf-shape to play with the pups while Simon worked in front of the small shed where he kept his tools and wood-working supplies.

Immediately, his eyes sought out Ailsa and Duncan, spotting them not far from Johnny’s big brown bulk. They stood perfectly still, eyes watching in the same direction Johnny was looking.

It was probably Price and Gaz, but Simon set down the sandpaper and made his way over to them just in case. As he put himself in front of the pups, he heard the rumble of a car coming up his drive. Duncan came and pressed into his side, and without thinking, Simon settled his hand on his head.

At the sight of an SUV with dark tinted windows and a mattress tied to the roof appearing through the trees, Johnny ran over to it, shifting back without a break in his stride. A handsome man with warm dark skin, an infectious grin, and a baseball cap stepped out, meeting Johnny with open arms. The two hugged each other tightly, laughing at nothing apparent. Simon watched a second man with an impressive, well-kept beard and a bucket hat leave the driver’s side of the car, coming around and sliding a hand around the back of Johnny’s neck to pull their foreheads together. They breathed each other in for a moment, eyes closed.

Simon didn’t like how his jaw clenched at the sight of Johnny’s soft smile directed at the other man.

“Gaz, Price, I’d like you to meet Si,” he was saying, turning to look back at him.

Staying where he was, he nodded at each of them. Ailsa had taken a few steps forward as if to follow Johnny, but she had stopped only a few feet in front of Simon, staying close to him.

“Good to finally meet you,” the bearded man called from across the clearing. “Soap’s told us a lot about you.”

“Nice of him to let us see the man who he won’t shut up about,” the other man joked.

Simon was surprised to hear that both of them had British accents.

Johnny’s face was bright red as he shoved at the man with the baseball cap, having not stopped touching him since their hug.

“So this is Gaz,” he gestured to the smiley one. With a wave at the man in the bucket hat, “And this is Price. They’re my pack.”

Simon nodded again, stepping closer to them, shadowed closely by Ailsa and Duncan. When they got close enough, Johnny reached out and welcomed Ailsa who attached herself to his leg in a mirror of Simon and Duncan.

“And these are the kiddos,” Johnny said. He gave Ailsa a few strokes along her flank. “This one is Ailsa, and the boy glued to Simon is Duncan, he’s a wee bit shy.”

Price stepped forward and crouched so he was closer to their level. He offered each of them a hand. “Pleasure to meet you two. Me and Kyle have been looking forward to seeing you since Johnny told us about you.”

The only thing stopping Simon from rolling his eyes was that he got the impression that Price was being completely genuine. He had actually been looking forward to meeting them.

When Ailsa, then Duncan sniffed at the proffered hands, he felt his shoulders relax marginally. Gaz crouched and repeated the greeting, offering them his hands.

“You can call me Kyle, if you want,” he told them. He chuckled when Ailsa gave his fingers a few licks. “Yeah, I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

She started wagging her tail, stepping away from Johnny and closer to Gaz to investigate him closer.

Looking at them, it was impossible to tell what they were. Simon remembered Johnny saying that he was the only wolf in his pack, although that wasn’t true anymore. Price had a bit of bulk to him, not as big as Simon, but not far off. He could tell that beneath some of the roundedness of him was a quiet strength. Gaz was leaner, for sure, his body smaller than Johnny’s, but where he had big, well-defined muscles, Gaz moved like liquid with an easy agility to his movements.

“We’ve got some of your furniture in the back,” Price told Johnny. “Give me a hand and we can get it moved in.”

“You got my trunk too?”

He followed Price with an easy obedience that surprised Simon. He wouldn’t have described Johnny as stubborn per se, but he certainly liked to give Simon a hard time any time they were together.

“Yeah, you said you wanted the dresser, the trunk, and the extra twin mattress.”

“Mattress?” Simon asked, speaking up for the first time.

Johnny looked back at him, and for a moment he was breathless at the sight of his smile directed once again at him.

“Yeah. Figured we could lean it against the wall during the day, but it gives us a more comfortable place to crash than the couch.”

“Makes sense.” Simon hadn’t thought of it, instead jumping immediately to building a couple more bedrooms.

“Gaz, can you watch the pups while we get this furniture moved around?”

“C’mon, lets go have some fun while these three do boring grown-up stuff.” Gaz grinned down at Ailsa and Duncan who looked up at Simon.

“Go on, Johnny and I’ll be here if you need us,” he reassured.

Reluctantly, Simon watched the three of them walk away, Gaz explaining the rules to some game to his furry audience. When he turned back, Johnny had a tender look on his face.

“They’ll be fine,” he promised, reaching over to squeeze Simon’s good shoulder. “Come and show us where all this should go.”

About an hour later, Simon was absolutely covered in sweat, but they had managed to rearrange the bedroom as well as the living room to accommodate the new furniture.

Since he had so few clothes, it was decided that he and Johnny would share one dresser while the other could be for Duncan and Ailsa until they had more room to give each of them their own.

The trunk that Johnny had made sure they brought was an old wooden chest with beautiful carvings covering the lid and sides. There were wolves running through the trees, chasing a stag, curled up together, howling at the moon. The care it must have taken to render these scenes with such detail was obvious. Johnny’s eyes got a little watery looking at it tucked into the corner where the kennel had been.

“My Granda’ carved that. When I was little, I loved running my fingers over all the wolves. Imagined which one was supposed to be me, assigned each one to my siblings. He gave it to me when I left to make my own pack,” he murmured. It was just the two of them in the living room at the moment. Price had stepped out to take a phone call.

“It’s beautiful.”

Johnny grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Now Duncan and Ailsa can have it. Figured we needed a spot for their toys now that they have enough for their own toy store.”

Simon chuckled, squeezing back for a moment before dropping Johnny’s hand.

“I wanted them to be happy here.”

Johnny looked at him, signature grin in place. “Oh I know, you big softie.” He slipped his pinky around Simon’s, and he let them stay linked.

Something buzzed between them as they looked at each other.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For everything.”

“Always, Si.”

They were quiet, just looking at each other.

Johnny opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the ringing of Simon’s landline cut through the quiet.

Simon pulled away, letting Johnny’s hand fall back against his side when he abruptly unlinked their fingers. He picked up the phone.

“What.”

“Don’t “what” me, young man,” a familiar voice crowed at him. “Come get your lumber. Was able to get it earlier than expected. Don’t tell anyone, but I snagged what you needed out of the Mitchell’s order. They can wait for the next delivery.”

He smiled to himself. “Thanks, Janet.”

When he hung up the phone and turned back, Johnny was smiling sadly at him.

“Why don't you take Price to help you load it all?”

Simon found he couldn’t say no to him in that moment.

“Alright.”

Which was how he found himself pulling up to Janet’s store after a painfully awkward drive down.

“Took you long enough!” Janet yelled as soon as he stepped inside. When she caught sight of Price behind him, she perked up. “And who’s this fine piece of ass with you?”

Simon looked to Price, assuming he’d introduce himself. The man’s face was beet red, the flush even coming up to his ears.

He coughed, and cleared his throat, stepping forward to offer his hand. “John Price.”

Janet stepped out from behind her counter to take it, her beads clacking against each other with her movement. “And aren’t you a treat, John Price. What’s someone so delectable doing with this hard ass?”

Price looked back at Simon, as if he would do anything to stop her. He knew he just had to let this play out, so he just shrugged. Janet could be a shark.

“Um, we’re here to pickup Simon’s order.”

“And when are you going to pick me up?” she pressed. She still hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Excuse me?”

“For our date,” Janet clarified, batting her eyes at him.

“Oh, I’m married.”

Simon had assumed Price couldn’t get any redder, but he was wrong.

Janet’s face had fallen. She narrowed her eyes at Price, scrutinizing his face before she grabbed the other hand, inspecting both of them.

“I don’t see a ring.”

Price gently extracted his hands from her grip before he reached under his shirt to pull a chain out, a gold wedding band hanging from the end.

Janet scowled. “Well tell your wife she’s a lucky lady because I would have gobbled you right up.”

Price choked at that, sliding his chain back under his collar.

“I’ll, uh, let him know.”

Simon arched a brow at that.

“Kyle,” Price clarified.

He hadn’t realized they were married, especially with the way Gaz and Johnny had clung to each other.

“Well, Simon, you’re not the only one bringing handsome strangers around,” Janet said. She had apparently already moved on to the next subject. “There’s some detective poking around. I guess some hunters have gone missing out in your neck of the woods.”

Ghost could feel the temperature drop, ice seeping into his veins.

“What’ve they been saying?” He needed to know.

Janet looked at him for a moment, like he would admit something under the heat of her gaze. He didn’t usually ask questions.

“Not much. Guess they were meant to be home already. Had called saying something about a big catch.”

They didn’t know much, then, or at least they weren’t saying much. He would have to look into it.

Ghost nodded. “It in my usual spot?”

Janet observed him for another moment. “Aye.”

He and Price loaded up the car under her careful supervision.

On the drive back, he didn’t notice if the silence was awkward, Simon was too busy thinking through whether or not he and Johnny could be linked back to the hunters. No one in town had seen them together, so hopefully not, but then again, it was common knowledge that he lived out here. Not many knew the precise location of his cabin, but most people knew the general area where he was.

“The hunters going to be an issue?” Price asked, breaking the silence.

Simon assumed that he had picked up the gist of what had happened between Simon’s reaction to Janet and whatever Johnny had told them.

“Not if I can help it.”

#soapghost #fic #my writing #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap #ghost #price #john price #gaz #kyle gaz garrick #background pricegaz

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