Captain price who’s imaging bending you over his desk as soon as you’re assigned to his team.
It’s wrong, he knows it is, you’re his sergeant, but he tells himself as long as he doesn’t act on those thoughts he’s fine. He can imagine you all he wants, on your knees, mouth stuffed, eyes watering, gasping for air when he finally lets up.
He tells himself that atleast.
Tells himself that right up until you’re laid out on his desk, needy cunt grinding against the length of his cock because he told himself— told you, that it wasn’t wrong, long as his dick didn’t slip in.
But nothing soon turns into gritted comments of ‘Jus’ the tip ‘ts not wrong if ‘ts jus’ the tip darling.’
Except he can’t stop until he’s ball deep, head falling on your shoulder muttering something along the lines that he couldn’t help it, you felt too good sweet’art.
Price who groans low and heavy when he grinds his cock deep into your weeping cunt. You gasp and nearly choke when you feel the tip of his dick rubbing against that soft little pink ring under your womb.
“There we go— that’s the kind of welcome-home-kiss Daddy wants from now on, baby.”
Your teeth are sunken into the pillow under your head, the wet slap of his balls against your puffy cunt lips audible under all of your whimpering.
“Poor thing. Can’t take it when Daddy’s knocking on your nursery door, lovie? Been saving up all these months I’ve been away, darl’. Got a nice, warm load that’ll make y’feel all better…. You just gotta let. Daddy. In.”
Simon who still has Mr. Kitty in a box under his bed, safe and hidden.
He cant leave base without the fear of someone finding the little thing and tossing it, thinking it trash from the way one button eye is missing and its fur is all wrinkled.
Like his dad once did when he found the ratty thing hidden under little Simons pillow
He had spent hours crying silently, searching for it in every nook and cranny
Only to find it in the bile filled trash.
His ma in one of her kind moments, helps him wash it and dry it before his father can find out the thing was still in the house.
After that night one dark button eye is missing forever.
Ghost who cant bring Mr. Kitty with him on missions. Too terrified of bringing the last pieces of Simon onto a battlefield and loosing him there.
Ghost who cant bring himself to touch Mr. Kitty in fear of tainting the wee thing with the blood staining his hands.
Ghost who also cant sleep without Mr. Kitty tucked securely against his chest, in the hope that keeping Mr. Kitty close will keep Simon close, will keep his Ma and Tommy and all their soft moments together tethered to the tainted wretched thing that is Ghost.
You thought hooking up with Simon would be fun until you felt his hand around your throat. A casual hookup with a man normally didn't include choking, especially not without being asked first. You register the pressure on your throat and react instantly, slamming your fist into his nose.
"Shit! What the fuck!" Simon shoots back off of you, getting off the bed and clutching at his nose. You pull your legs up to your chest, shrinking back from him with ragged breaths.
"Why would you do that!! What the fuck is wrong with you!" You wheeze, voice strained as you cough slightly.
"Thought you bloody liked it, for fucks sake." He hisses, checking his fingers for blood.
"You have to ask that shit, Simon! You can't fucking assume." You rub your sore neck, sitting with your back pressed to the headboard. You weren't afraid of Simon. He never gave you a reason to be, but right now, you wanted your distance from him.
"That just wastes time. Now I know. Won't do it again." He shrugs, climbing back into bed. His hand wraps around your ankle, the contact making you jolt and yank your limb away.
"You should go." You mumble as you draw your knees closer to your chin. "The moods gone."
"Don't be like that." Simon grunts angrily, quickly trying to shift his tone. He wasn't angry at you, he just didn't want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. He just wanted to get his dick wet and go, and you were making it complicated. "I wouldn't have hurt you."
"I know that. But you weren't the one pressed into the bed just now. I want you to go. Please." Simon finally tunes into your voice, your feelings, instead of his own aching balls. He'd never seen you curl up on yourself, backed up like you were scared he would hurt you. He had hurt you, even if he hadn't meant too.
He clears his throat and nods, sliding off your bed and getting half dressed before slipping out of your room.
@rawme-price inspired me by the post about Simon not knowing/caring about safewords and boundaries.
The test laying on the counter stares back at you tauntingly, berating you for thinking anything other than the obvious. You didn’t want to be pregnant—you even took a morning-after pill for good measure—but still, the negative result displayed on the tiny digital screen stings like nothing ever has before. You can’t do anything but look down at the stupid stick with tears building in your eyes.
“Darlin’? Y’alright in there?” John’s concerned voice calls from the other side of the bathroom door, but you don’t respond.
He jiggles the knob, grunting in disapproval when it doesn’t move. He resorts to knocking.
“Sweet’eart, let me in.”
You sigh at his insistence and toss the pregnancy test in the garbage, trying to blink away the moisture in your eyes before slowly opening the bathroom door. He grins, but you do not return the gesture.
“Wha’ were ya doin’ in there, pretty girl?” He questions softly, cupping your cheeks in his big hands.
“This isn’t working, John,” you tilt your head out of his grasp, hugging yourself tightly.
He’s hurt by your actions—that much is obvious by the way his hands continue to hover around you despite their newfound emptiness—although he tries his best to hide it. He clears his throat and sniffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“What’s not workin’?”
You scoff in disbelief, rolling your eyes. He knows damn well what you’re talking about, but like always, is choosing to play dumb in hopes that the inevitable conversation will be avoided.
“Us. I can’t do this- this… what the fuck are we even doing?” You growl, finally allowing your eyes to meet his.
“It’s… we’re- we’re just havin’ fun,” he furrows his brow, but you can tell that even he doesn’t believe his own lie.
“Fun? You think it’s fun to ignore me for weeks just to randomly call me in the middle of the night for a quick fuck every once in a while? You think it’s fun to make me screw up my cycle with pills because you refuse to wear a condom?” You lean forward, jabbing your finger against his sternum harshly. “You think it’s fun to tell me you love me and then leave me every single time?”
You can’t blink back the tears anymore. They fall of their own volition, warm and bitter and exhausted. John scratches his beard nervously, icy blue eyes darting around to look at anything but you. He knows he’s a coward but seeing you so hurt makes him nauseous.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you exhale slowly. “I can’t be with a man who doesn’t know what he wants.”
“I do know what I want,” he rasps.
“Do you, John? What do you want, then? Because it sure as hell isn’t a relationship,” you bark.
“I want- I want you.”
You laugh. You laugh because you know it isn’t you that he wants, but a warm cunt to sink into when the nights get cold and lonely. He wants someone to warm his bed so that he can wake up and feel whole instead of finding the looming reminder of what an empty man he really is. He wants loyalty without commitment, marriage without the papers or rings just in case he decides at the last minute that he wants out.
John isn’t as amused as you. He backs you against the wall and cages you in with his huge body, suffocating you with his hot breath. When he finally works up the courage to look at you again, there is something desperate shrouded beneath the authority in his eyes.
“I want you,” he repeats as he nudges his nose against yours. “I want to be with you.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is-”
“Yeah? Then retire. Retire from the field and stay home with me, John. Start a family with me.”
The man freezes and instantly you see the resignation settling along his features. You take the opportunity to shove him away, quickly wiping away the fresh onslaught of tears that stain your face.
“I fucking thought so,” you sneer.
“You know it’s not that bloody simple,” John hisses, haunches raised. “I would leave in an instant if I could, but my men-”
“Your men would still thrive as a team,” you interrupt. “Lieutenant Riley is well on his way to becoming a captain. Do you think he’s incapable? Or do you just think you’re so fucking important that everything would fall apart without you?”
All he can do is stare at you, huffing angrily like some sort of untamed beast. You wince—that was a deep cut, and you know it, but it’s far too late to take it back. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Might as well get it all out now.
“I’m tired of wasting my years on you, John. I want a baby. I want to get married and be a good wife to my husband, not just… some toy for a broken man to play with.”
His gaze softens, and he leans in once more, resting his hands on your waist. It takes everything in you not to melt, give in and let him take you back to bed. God knows you want to.
“No, that’s not what you are,” John insists. “I can- I can give you those things, darlin’. I will give you those things. I just need more time.”
“You’ve needed ‘more time’ for two years,” you remind him defeatedly. “I used to believe that, but in all the time we’ve been sleeping together, you never once tried to actually convince me that I had anything more to look forward to besides another shag.”
For the umpteenth time tonight, John Price is rendered speechless. You wait for a moment but when he remains silent, you only nod.
“I think you should leave.”
This time, he doesn’t argue nor try to defend himself. You’ve thrown salt in his wound and he’s sewn it up for good; retribution. He knows that this is what he deserves. This is what he chose. He presses a kiss to your forehead and lets his lips linger for a moment too long.
“You’ll make a beautiful bride.”
John leaves your house for the last time, and like the man you love, you become just as empty.
"House of Wax" is one of those movies I'll never tire of watching! So I thought, why not make an AU with Brahms and Mary?
I've had this concept in mind for a while, so I'll leave you with a little of what I've been working on, just some doodles.
Since the movie is about siblings, I decided to improvise a bit.
To give Mary a brother, I used Mark (her genderbender).
As for Brahms, since he has no other family, I borrowed Brahms from the original script to join this AU, and there we have the Heelshire siblings.
Well, I think that's all, haha.
I didn't elaborate further; it was just something I had in mind and wanted to have a little fun with the concept. Anyway, I hope you like it.
snowghoul
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