Ghost sat in the back corner of the diner. It gave him the best overlook of the room he needed to scout the place out. The diner wasn’t anything fancy. Small mom and pops shop that still held on the ‘50s service style and appearance. But that wasn’t the real reason why Ghost is here.
The diner was on the edge of the city, a previously agreed upon location that the authorities don’t look at often when shady deals need to be made. The perfect place for a meeting.
The meeting wasn’t for a few more days, but Ghost had orders. And Ghost always follows orders.
It was moderately busy for lunch time on a random Tuesday, half the booths filled with couples or groups being served and workers buzzing about, a well-run machine. There wasn’t really anything for Ghost to note.
Except you.
A younger waitress, post-college age, fidgeting with the uniform’s apron when you’re not taking orders or delivering food. Mingling with the customers in your section, cracking smiles and laughs. Possibly to get a better tip. You moved like a current.
If Ghost wasn’t playing close attention, he would’ve mistaken you as a veteran in the field. But from the way the cooks and other waiters had silently corrected you when you made a misstep, he could tell you were still learning. Pretty thing.
Ghost scolded himself for thinking about a waitress in a random diner. He should be paying attention to everything but you. He scanned the diner once more, taking note of how many exits were there, how many people were working at one time, how many parents and their kids ate here. Ghost was already visualizing the meeting and how it would go, even a backup plan if things went south.
Ghost’s fingers tapped on the table, the gears turning like a well-oiled machine. Like he’s done this a thousand times before. Because he has done this a thousand times before.
Price was grumpy. There was a tightness in his shoulders he couldn’t release and it had been driving him mad. He was at work, taking his 7th lap of the forest today, trying to run off his extra energy. But no matter how hard he tries, there’s been a smell in his nose. As he makes his way back to the ranger’s station, a grumble emits from him unknowingly.
Ever since his last visit to the store, there’s been this itch under his nails and a tension in his neck that just wouldn’t go away. Nothing he does gets his mind off you. Off your smell. “Dammit.” Price grumbles under his breath and leans back in his chair, wiping his eyes, as if he can make everything go away.
There’s footsteps outside the ranger station that catches his ear and a quick glance at the clock makes him sigh in relief. Marcus walks in, throwing a polite smile John’s way as he heads towards the back, getting ready for his own shift.
John couldn’t be more grateful to be able to get out of here. He quickly starts shutting down his things and begins packing. “Long day?” Marcus asks as he comes from the back of the station.
He grunted in response, “It was fine.” He quickly dismisses.
He hears a pause come from Marcus for a moment. Damned humans and their stupid social rules.
The former military captain tries again, remembering he only got the job because of Marcus’ good nature. He clears his throat again, “I think I may be coming down with something.” He says instead.
“Yea,” Marcus starts, “It usually takes a while to get used to the mountain air.” John falsely agrees, simply wanting to get out from under scrutiny and judgement. “Maybe you should take the weekend off.” He suggests.
That gives Price pause for a moment. He doesn’t want to misuse any good graces with Marcus, but with the coming winter, he would not look a gifted horse in the mouth. “I can still come in on Sunday,” He offered.
Marcus thought it over for a moment, “Yea, that sounds pretty good.”
Price smiled politely, a renewed vigor gave him enough momentum to grab his stuff and head out.
…
Price lumbered around the forest aimlessly. The sky was a light grey, but despite that, the trees gave an enchanting look and feel. He was in his bear form, finally able to stretch his legs and enjoy the mountains in which he resided in. He hasn’t had the chance ever since he’s moved to the area and the serenity he feels makes him feel truly at home.
No orders to give. No gunfire raining over him. No crushing weight on his shoulders. He can meander as slow as he wants. Scratch his back for as long as he wants. Even pick the berries without a care in the world.
There were a few hikers out in the late afternoon. Probably coming from work. Families with their dogs mostly. Everyone gave him a wide berth, some taking pictures, but most too scared to move until he’s ambled his way further. He’s not out to scare anybody so he leaves them alone.
Until that smell.
The bear sniffed the air again. Certain of the familiar scent. A pleased rumble began in his chest, heading a direction further into the woods and closer to the river.
Price didn’t even realize that he had changed directions. Simply moving as his bear asked without question. It wasn’t until he got closer that he came to and realized something was off.
Your smell got stronger. The hints of a floral and rich scent beckoning him. And Price followed.
John was able to take in your scent fully with his nose this time and it was even better than the last. Honey. You smelled like fresh honey mixed with a salty air and a floral scent. Bodywash, maybe. He was so distracted, he missed another scent in the air.
He traveled for about half a mile, paying no mind to the other hikers that had spotted him. The rushing of the river began a craving for fish. Price thought he saw salmon on one of his routes. As the clearing came up, there you were.
Sitting at the edge of the river, squatting to look under the water was you. You were out hiking it seemed, your backpack too light for anything else. John watched you in silence. It seemed the tranquility of the forest extended even to you. Almost adding to its beauty.
You threw you head back and gave a hearty laugh. What a wonderful sound it was. The trance Price basked in was interrupted by a stranger.
A man, walking closer to you from behind. He was about the same height as John, but not nearly as muscled or big. Not nearly as strong as Price. He was on the younger side, but still a threat nonetheless. The bear readied his stance, ready to intervene at a moments notice, when you turned your head and spoke to the man. You knew each other. And by the way the man put his hand on your back and sat next to you, it seemed you knew each other better than just friends.
Price had to focus on staying hidden in the trees. Watching. Observing. Calculating his next move.
He could shift back and approach the “couple,” giving some bullshit excuse for interrupting them. Maybe you’ll pick me over him. The thought pleased him, but no. That wouldn’t be enough. You were too smart to believe anything he’d come up with.
His mind ran a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. He could leave. Neither of you had spotted him, his fur helping him blend into the foliage, keeping him concealed. And as the two of you sat on the edge of the river, looking over the horizon, none the wiser, the stranger said something that caught your attention. Price got down lower, his years of stealth being an innate skill drilled in his bones.
Your voices were too soft for him to hear. But as the man touched the soft skin on your cheek and leaned in carefully, the bear roared, an anger carrying Price forward into the clearing and disturbing you both.
“Oh shit!”
The man was on his feet in an instant, spotting the bear immediately. The look of confusion on your face was adorable. But the pure fear that replaced it tightened something in his chest. The big, bad bear had made himself known and there was no going back. So Price led into it with full force.
He raised onto his hind legs to his full height, his eyes never leaving the man that dare touch what’s his. The frustrations from the last few days came forth. The itch for violence that was always under his skin reaching a tipping point that he released in a bellow.
The call of the wild.
It didn’t take the man long to get to his feet and start running the other direction. He hadn’t even looked back to see if you would follow. A coward. He sneered.
Staying still under the scrutiny of a beast like him, you were too stunned to move. The pure fear in your eye was enough to tell Price everything he needed to know. You were smart not to run in front of a wild creature.
As the coward continued to run, further than necessary, Price might add, and once the threat was deemed safe enough, the bear dropped back on all fours. He let out a chuff of annoyance as his attention turned back to you as a sniffle caught his attention.
Price wasn’t close, but he could still see the tears growing along your tear line, threatening to fall. John almost felt bad about scaring you the way he did, but he knew there was no point fighting instinct.
So instead, he laid down on all fours, his arms and leg splayed out under him and put his chin on the ground. He hoped you knew what he was trying to do, look as non-threatening as possible. That was his mission.
You stood up on shaky legs, unsure of what to do with this strange bear’s behavior. You’ve of course have had tips you’ve picked up over the years on what to do when you encounter wild animals in these mountains, but the blood coursing through your veins wipes away any memory of them.
But…there’s something different about this bear. You can’t put your finger on it, but you trust your intuition and you get a burst of courage.
Price has to focus on staying still, but he can’t deny the burst of excitement in his stomach as you take careful steps closer. His eyes never leave you, watching your confidence grow with every step as you come closer to him.
Mission successful.
Something speaks to you. You’re unable to tell what has come over you. Walking up to a wild bear after being abandoned by Tim. There’s a flame of anger that begins to start, leaving you like that, but you tamp it down in favor to focus on the wild bear in front of you.
The bear chuffs again, it doesn’t sound threatening, but you stop anyway. What you are you thinking!? There’s still a possibility of being mauled by a bear out in the middle of the mountains because you walked up to it? The thought doesn’t get any less crazy.
You’re about to turn back around when you examine the bear again. He hasn’t moved. Staying still as you approached him. It’s like he knows. You can see it in his eyes, something human about them. You finish crossing the distance to the bear, close enough to touch.
Price makes sure to not make any sudden movements, but he does lift his head up closer to you, seeing if he can get lucky twice. At his insistence, you finally reach your hand out to him, close enough to gently pet his head.
Price was in heaven.
Your hands are soft against his skin. Softer than his fur even. Gentle. John knew you’d have a gentle hand. A pleased rumble starting in his chest. Something he hasn’t done in years and it feels good. It feels great.
“You’re not so scary, huh?” You giggle lightly, your nerves settled after the adrenaline wore off.
Never for you.
You get a burst of courage and reach a little further, reaching behind the bear’s ears. Price melted.
He wanted more. He needed more.
He tilted his head to the side to allow you more access behind his ears. He can’t think of the last time someone showed him so pleasantly. The bear leaned over completely, laying on his side and showing you his belly as you make sure to show the other ear as much attention as the first. So thorough. Such a good girl. The pleased rumbles grow louder.
A flick of the bear’s ear causes him pause and suddenly sits up. You are able to move out of the way and step back, remembering you don’t have any protection on you incase this bear changes it’s mind. But he had other concerns.
The sound of a truck rumbling through the trees on the ranger’s path he took many times that day. How could John forget the protocol for spotting large animals? He’s never been so reckless before.
A new tension replaced your fear, concern as the truck came in sight. “Go,” you told the bear, “they might hurt you. Shoo, shoo.”
No one has never shooed away John Price before. He knew the protocol for a sighting and Marcus wouldn’t shoot him unless it was a last resort, but who was he to deny an order from his pretty little bird? He raised up, shaking his fur a bit of any debris and sticks he accumulated. He checked on you one more time. Your hands were still shaking, maybe from adrenaline, maybe from fear, but you looked more stable. Better. “Go,” you insisted again.
He chuffed again, but followed your orders. As Price worked to blend back into the words, he knew one thing for certain.
He will never let you go.
-been thinking if it would be easier to set up all my works in one place if it'd be helpful?
There was always you. Working behind the counter, serving customers with the ease of a tender hand. John always ended up watching you. Watching you move behind the counter, checking out customers, smiling without a care in the world. Being the light in his darkness.
“Next!” John listened to you command a room with a softness he was never able to in his years as Captain. A melody with a purpose. A natural, bone-deep attraction. “Sir?”
Time unpauses. You look at him with that soft concern in your eyes. Ah, yes. He clears his throat, attempting to find words, “Sorry.” It comes out with a short gruff grunt and he begins to place his items on the counter for you to begin to ring up.
You begin scanning and you take in the new stranger in town. There never are many new faces around town since you moved out of the big city and to a smaller, mountain town. The same regulars come through on a schedule and there’s the occasional traveler passing by through town. But this older gentleman-He was neither a consistency or a wanderer. This was the fourth time you’ve seen him at the local convenient store you work at and he doesn’t seem to talk much, but Marcus, the local forest ranger, spoke about a new hire coming to town and here he’s drifted. Right in front of you.
A large, burly man with a coat of warmth and softness that rounds out the harder edges of a his build. His hands are large and calloused as they gently place items on the counter. You move into the familiar rhythm of your work, stealing glances with a polite customer smile. And if you smiled a little more than usual at him, then it was a guilty pleasure of yours.
The man doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but you chatter along, trying to fulfill the requirement of being in customer service and maybe grasp information about the mystery man in front of you. Luckily, the perfect opportunity presents itself when you see the forest ranger emblem on his outside jacket, almost hidden if one doesn’t look hard enough. “You’re the new forest ranger up the hill, right?”
He lifts his eyes up to you, taking in your features with a quiet surprise of being spoken to. You had to call him twice earlier, he seems lost in thought. But still, you continue on, determined to at least get the stranger’s name. “Yes,” his voice is rough and unused. He clears it, speaking with more conviction this time, “Yes I am.” Was all he said.
As you read him out his total, you searched for something-anything to talk about before the end of the transaction. Not ready to let the man walk out as a stranger.
As he searches for his wallet and hands you his debit card. Your chatter continues, light and idle. Like normal strangers would interact. “I’ve always loved the forest, ya know. My dad would take me camping in the fall.” You don’t know why you share this piece of information, this piece of the puzzle with him, expecting nothing in return, but open and sharing anyway.
The man’s lip tics up on one direction, a smirk of a genuine softness. “The forest has always been a second home to me, too.” He shares.
You lift his grocery bags for him to take and in that moment, time pauses again. “Price.” He offers, “The name’s John Price.” The customer service smile grows into something more real as you give him your name in return.
John gets lost in that warm smile, directed at him. A teasing taste of your attention on him that is sweet as honey. Sweet and warm. As he grabs the bags from you, your hands brushing briefly, he feels a spark across his skin that wakes him up. Wakes him up. Shuffling under the surface, a bear rising from slumber.
John finally steps back, the stirring a reminder of the task at hand. It’s November and the temperature is dropping. He must prepare.
“It’s nice to meet you,” He smiles, needing to get back on his way to work.
“See you around,” you say it like you would to any customer, being friendly and approachable. But John wishes for a moment he heard the question in your voice. A promise? And who is he to deny a simple promise?
“Would any of you like to explain why a civilian has been brought back to our safehouse!?” Price was livid. His teeth kept grinding the end of the second cigar of the evening. The three men stood at attention like they did back at their time in the military.
There was nothing but silence.
Ghost had to admit, Price was handling this much better than he originally thought. Maybe his retired years are catching up to him. John began his pacing again, nearly wearing a hole in the carpet. “Who’s idea was it?”
All three men answer in unison, “It was mine, sir.” The trio looks unsure at the others admission, but know they stand on a united front when it comes to you.
A deep sigh comes from him for the nth time that night since Ghost called him. He rubs at his temples in frustration as he leans over his oak desk. His anger bubbles over as his fist strikes the wood. The former captain approach the three men, coming nearly nose to nose with each one, to let them see the fire behind his tone, “48 hours. You have 48 hours to send the civilian anywhere else but here, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
John Price glared at them individually once more before storming out of his office. Leaving the men to finally relax, surviving a lashing from the boss himself. Now they turn to each other, the irritation from the night wearing on them. “When I give you an order, Johnny, you do it.” He growled. He put you in danger.
“How was A supposed t’know we weren’t clear.”
“By doing a sweep like you learned in fucking basic.” Simon and Johnny step to each other, a charged energy slowly progressing.
Kyle jumps in, “She got hurt because of you.” He cast a grating look at Johnny.
“Bullsheit! ‘f it wasn’ my quick thinkin’ who know what woul’ve happened.” There is a silence around them. An elephant in the room no one is quite ready to address yet. “Ye’r not innocent either. Ye’r the one that scared ‘er.”
Ghost couldn’t push away the nagging feeling in his chest that bothered him. “I did what I had to do.”
“And so did aye!”
Soap and Ghost are nose to nose. They breathed in each other’s faces, teeth bared, fists clenched together.
But they never did mean it, all this yelling. They would cuss each other out and then fuck in the nearest bedroom. This time Gaz decided he was going to stay and watch, his own frustrations leading to hungrier urges.
A few doors down you rested after the doctor checked what he could at this time of night. The doc updated Price before he left. “I was able to put her shoulder in a sling, but she should probably go get xrays. She may also have a slight concussion so she should rest. Otherwise, I’m sure she’ll wake up in a few hours.
Price promises his extra pay for the doc’s “emergency visit” and continues past him. The boss pushes out of the safehouse and into the woods around it. He’s going out for the night.
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz all stand at attention like the good soldiers they are. Obedient to a fault.
Their oozing cocks dribble precum onto the floor. Even as they ache, they won't reach for their cocks, because they're good soldiers.
Captain Price drills his hips into you as you're bent over the table and on display for the three military men in front of you. They watch your breasts bounce with each stroke, jealous.
"Eyes on her," He commands.
Soap has to bite his lip to keep him from speaking out of turn. Gaz's cock is the messiest, leaking with the desperation to mark that pretty neck. All of Ghost stands at attention, watching your open mouth moan for their Captain.
The whole room is tuned into you being fucked stupid. You try to keep it together, but a slight change in angle and you're creaming over John's cock. "Look how pretty she is when she cums."
Price had no intention of slowing down his pace as he continues to ram into your hole. "My good girl." He growls as his hips falter, pushing as far as he can go to drop his load into you. Marking you.
The room is silent for a few moments, before Price slides out, "So who's gonna clean her up?"
taglist I think @odettecigno @kittypan @poisonedsultana @thesevi0lentdelights @bina-passion-fruit
“She talks about you a lot.” Alex began again as both him and Price lumber their way to the shooting range. Price reminds himself that he's doing it for you. Anything for you.
Price hasn't been very chatty. Not on purpose. He couldn't get many words in between Alex's yammering.
So he gave up trying to speak, only interjecting affirmative grunts occasionally. Carrying his .17 rifle behind his back while he led the two of them to an approved range.
“We're ‘ere.”
John pulls out a water bottle to take a few swigs. He examined Alex as they got settled in the space. He was agile. His breath no heavier than when they started, a little sweaty, but nothing out of the ordinary. As if it's a warm up.
Price was suspicious of him., a gut instinct that pulls his attention away from his younger appearance and charm. It's not working on him, and they both knew it.
“What'd you bring to shoot?” Price grunts.
Alex pulls his gun from his bag, “A .12 gauge.” John rolled his eyes.
“You brought a shotgun out here to shoot?”
Alex paused, the fakeness to his smile dropped for a moment, that glint in his eye near deadly, “John,” He puts his gun aside, “Let's be honest to one another?” Alex offered the seat across from him, keeping the playing-ground equal.
John’s happy to finally drop the act. “Gladly.” He wrapped his arms across his chest, his beast’s feathers ruffled.
Alex begins, “We're only here because of her.” Only for her. “It's because she wants you to be nice to little ol' me.” His smile had a sharp edge to it, “Then we can stop bullshitting and end this shit.” He swipes his teeth with his tongue, dangerous.
John's beast began to growl at his threat. “You can go fuck yourself as far as I'm concerned, buddy.”
His grey eyes held a sharpness behind them, that was no doubt. Price glanced down to his hands. His claws were out. A damned beast.
Price let himself get big, his fur beginning to cover any extra skin. The smaller beast transformed in kind; his limbs lengthening as he lands on all fours. A grey wolf stared back at him.
The bear roared.
He knew, of course. That damned scent that bothered him. It was this skinny, lanky wolf who touched what’s his.
The bear lurched forward and the wolf danced back. The bear rolled in the wolf's way, coming close to crushing the smaller beast. But the wolf was faster. The beasts survey each other in circles, teeth snarling. The wolf begins to …laugh.
The wolf was the first one to transform back, his stride untouched from beast to man. “Let it be known, bear.” He speaks, “I'm not here for her. I'm here for you.” A rough grunt comes from the bear. “You've made it so known that's she's yours, I just had to know who claimed her.”
“A strong shifting beast.” A pleased groan escapes from the wolf, “I couldn't imagine passing up the opportunity.” His smile didn't reach his eyes. “I will take what's yours,” they both come to a stop, “And I will kill you.”
They lunge at each other, claws out and taking chunks out of flesh. Luckily, the shifters will regenerate faster than you could ask questions.
The wolf man is able to scratch at John's face, tearing off a bit of cheek as he slashed at him. The sting felt like nothing at the moment, so Price tries to grab the meaty flesh of his arm with his teeth.
He lands his strike and pulls, hearing the muscle rip apart and the wolf man howled followed by a choppy laugh. Alex threw his head back, “I haven't felt this alive in years!” He proclaims.
John could only grumble under his breath. This shifter is not sane, that John knows. He must get rid of this threat before he even thinks about causing you any damage. He goes to aim for his throat, wanting to end this before it get any worse. But the man is too quick. Spry similar to the wind.
This time when the beasts clash, they drop their shifting forms and begin to grapple in their human forms. They are face to face. There's a trail of blood running down Alex's hairline but the shark-ish smile amplified the gleeful glint in his eye. Price tried to not admit how unsettled he was.
All his years in the military, he had taken out some of the most evil of powers. He was able to keep moving through a mission, regardless, of how shaken he was. But this. This…being was nothing like he'd ever seen before.
“You're going to leave this town and turn back now or else-"
“Or else what? You finally fight me?” Alex sneers.
Price used his body weight to throw them both off balance, rolling with the move in order to pin Alex down under him. He's got him effectively pinned, hand on his throat, but still, Alex smiles as he look into the face of the bear.
“I tear you from limb to limb for stepping on my territory.” He growled, pushing him further into the ground.
Alex’s smile mocks him, “Big bad bear is really grumpy, huh?”
A bear claw comes down and slashes his face, a set of three ruining that pretty boy face of his. The claw wrapped around his throat, blood pouring from the wounds and sliding down to soak into his fur. “The only reason you’re not dead is because my girl would be unhappy. So run. Run and if I ever see your face again I’ll make sure you’re bird food.”
The wolf shifter finally had the nerve to look worried, reaching up to grip the bear paw crushing his windpipe.
Price wasn’t a man to give second chances, but since his retirement—since you, he’s tried to be more lenient and forgiving. It would prove to be a mistake.
John let the wolf man escape his clutches. They stared at each other for a moment, no words being exchanged. Then Alex bolts into the forest.
“How was hunting with Alex?” You ask him later.
John kept his face neutral as he answered, “He didn’t show up.”
You met at a bar when he was on leave and you just couldn't get enough of each other. But he made sure to keep his work life away from you. You knew he worked in the military and would be gone for long periods, but other than that John kept everything seperate.
You worked at the bakery downstairs, twirling around the kitchen in a way that always amazed him when he was at his boring flat. But you always made it brighter.
John couldn't wait to get home to you. You'd both aligned your schedules for each other all weekend and John was excited.
He couldn't wait to feel your softness or taste your lips after all the gore he'd seen. He wants to wipe his hands off the darkness the world can have with your brightness you offer. You were his shining star.
He's walking up the last stairs to his flat when he noticies something's different...off. It puts John on alert.
When he sees the door to the flat sitting ajar, he slides out his pistol.
He waits for a second to see if he can hear anything--nothing, no signs of a struggle.
He busts in the door and he scans the place, ransacked and everything thrown to the floor, but empty. He moves with efficiency to the bedroom which he also finds empty.
"Fuckin' hell." Price curses. He tries to not let the absolute terror of you being in danger distract him from trying to locate where you are.
He scans the rooms quickly, seeing the knives, baseball bat, and the cabinet with pepper spray had been moved--meaning, his sweet girl fought.
Good girl, he thinks.
He pulled out his phone to pull up your phone tracking. Luckily it wasn't in the flat and it was moving west in a car. John wanted to call and hear that you're alright and he's worrying himself sick. But one more look around the apartment and he knows it's wrong.
Otherwise, you'd be here smiling, greeting him home with your soft and gentle love.
The anger that has John moving cracks something in his heart, the special task force Captain turning into something only the field sees. The mono-objective killing machine that is destined to get home. To you.
He rushes back to his car, watching you on the monitor. Such a good girl keeping your phone on you. So smart. He'll be sure to whisper those praises into your skin when he get's you back.
