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secularbakedgoods · 1 year

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Lockout

(science fiction, 3900 words)

When Jackie first met her next-door neighbor, she had no inkling whatsoever that there was six figures’ worth of military hardware grafted onto his body.

The man who answered her knock at the door of the neighboring apartment was somewhere in his early 20s, with the permanent five ‘o’ clock shadow of someone who only shaved with an electric razor. It was early autumn, not even cold, but he wore a hoodie and kept both hands tucked into its front pocket.

Jackie did her best to look friendly (a redundant effort, as she usually came across as the least threatening person alive). “Hi, I’m Jackie. I live next door.”

“Hi.” The neighbor looked pleasantly surprised, as if he’d opened the door expecting much worse. “Connor.”

“So, this is weird and I’m sorry to bother you about it, but my cat is on your balcony right now.”

The balcony was the major selling point of an otherwise standard crappy apartment. Everything was the same shade of Landlord White, and the kitchen backsplash had been ripped out and never replaced, but the building was in decent shape—although construction further up the block had rattled it beyond its usual tolerances, leaving cracks in the walls and ceiling. A balcony meant that Jackie’s cat, Greg, could get some unsupervised fresh air while she worked.

An acquaintance in the local esports league had hired Jackie to replace the control sticks in his lucky gamepad, which were starting to drift. The money wasn’t great, but she was between freelance gigs. The job demanded enough of her attention that it was only once she’d finished and put down the soldering iron that she realized Greg had gone wandering.

Connor left the door open and moved to his window, pulling the heavy blackout curtains aside. His apartment and Jackie’s shared the balcony, with a divider between. Somehow, Greg had made his way across the divider and now lay indolently in front of the sliding door on Connor’s side.

Jackie hovered at the apartment’s threshold. “Can I just—?”

Connor shrugged. Jackie bolted gingerly across the apartment and slid the door open to retrieve her cat.

Greg offered no resistance to being hoisted, even when Jackie held him up in front of her face and said, “You are a very bad cat.” She turned and waggled him at Connor. “Say ‘thank you’ to the nice man for the use of his balcony.”

In response, the cat only yawned. Connor, however, cracked a smile. With his left hand, he gave Greg a scratch behind the ears.

His right hand remained hidden, tucked into the hoodie.

Jackie next saw Connor on laundry day.

He came up behind her in the hallway outside the laundry room, where she stood with half a key in her hand and the other half wedged in the lock of the laundry room door.

“Did your key break?” Connor asked.

Jackie glared at the door. “Yes.”

Connor tried to pry the broken key out of the lock, but couldn’t get a grip through his gloves.

“I think you need fingernails for that,” Jackie said, and Connor stepped aside.

It took a few seconds, with Jackie chipping her thumbnail in the process, but eventually the broken key came loose and Connor unlocked the door.

As they commenced the intricate dance that only took place between near-strangers doing their laundry together, Jackie asked, “Why is this room even locked?”

“They found someone sleeping in here once,” Connor said. “Landlord got mad. Do you want one of my keys?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare. I’ll just tell the landlord one of mine broke.”

Connor worked the key off the ring with his right hand, but handed it to Jackie with his left.

The fire alarm went off at three in the morning. Greg, the asshole, immediately hid under Jackie’s bed and had to be dragged out.

Jackie ended up outside in her slippers with the cat under one arm and her bed’s comforter over her shoulders. There was some consolation to be had that the building’s other occupants, scattered all over the parking lot, were in similar states of undress.

Connor was off in the corner, arms wrapped around himself; he’d neglected to grab a coat on the way out, and the night was chilly. His oversized t-shirt did nothing to hide the advanced mechanical arm grafted to his right shoulder where a flesh-and-blood limb had once been. Jackie faintly recognized the model from videos that crossed her feed every once in a while. It was a military-grade prosthetic, supposedly as dexterous as the human limb it was intended to replace.

People were staring. Connor did his best to ignore them.

Jackie sidled over, holstered Greg against her hip, and extended one side of the comforter. “Hey. You cold?”

It was a polite fiction on both sides: Jackie pretended not to notice the arm, or the fact that she’d offered Connor the side of the comforter that would cover it, and Connor pretended not to see right through the gesture. He ducked under the comforter with a quiet, “thanks.”

They huddled together in the parking lot until the fire department showed up. After all that, it turned out to be a false alarm.

The building was only three stories tall, with no trash chute. Instead, Jackie had to haul her garbage bags down to the dumpster in the alley.

Someone had left a bedside dresser—slightly beat up, but still solid—on the ground next to the dumpster. Connor hovered over it with an air of uncertainty.

“You taking that?” Jackie asked.

“I don’t know.” Connor had his hoodie on, with his right hand tucked into the front pocket; the arm hung limp from his shoulder.

“I could help bring it up,” Jackie suggested.

Connor ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “I can’t lift anything. My arm’s not, uh. Working.”

“I can carry it. Just get the doors for me, okay?”

It was a little awkward to lift, and the stairs were a bitch, but a few minutes later Jackie set the dresser down next to Connor’s bed. It was just a mattress on the floor, no frame.

Jackie stretched, hands at the small of her back. “Can I ask you an awkward question?”

Connor cleared his throat. He still wouldn’t look at her. “The VA hasn’t paid the bill yet.”

“For your arm?”

Connor nodded. “There’s a fee every month, from the company that made it. The VA covers it, but sometimes they’re a few days late.”

“So the company switches the arm off remotely.”

“Yeah.”

“You tried modding it?”

Connor rubbed his shoulder; it had to be a strain, hauling that much dead weight around. “Like how?”

“You could try disabling whatever antenna receives the lockout signal,” Jackie said. “Or cracking the firmware. I could help, if you wanted.”

“Is that legal?”

“More or less?” Jackie shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing the law has trouble keeping up with.”

Connor looked uneasy. “I’ll think about it.”

Amelia’s scoff came through Jackie’s headset like a burst of static. “Again, Jackie?”

“What? What’s ‘again?’”

The rest of Jackie’s regular gaming group had gone to bed hours ago, leaving Jackie and Amelia to claw their way up the leaderboards late into the night.

Jackie didn’t particularly like Amelia.

“This thing where you’re nice to some guy,” Amelia said, “because you’re nice to everybody, and then he decides he’s in love with you. And then you have to move halfway across the country because he won’t leave you alone.”

“So I should just be a bitch to everybody?”

“It’d make your life easier.”

“I don’t believe that.”

There was a knock on Jackie’s door.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jackie closed the game and dropped out of the chat server. When she opened the door, Connor was there, looking sheepish.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine, I was up.”

Connor rubbed his shoulder again, although his arm seemed once again able to support its own weight. “So, that thing you suggested. About the arm. Could we try?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Jackie moved to let him in, then hesitated. “Actually, let me grab my tools and we’ll use your place. Less cat hair.”

They set up at Connor’s dining room table, which—like the dresser—looked like it was salvaged out of the trash. Connor changed into a sleeveless shirt, and Jackie got her first full look at the arm.

The prosthesis didn’t stop at the shoulder; the shoulder blade and part of his spine had also been reinforced, the whole apparatus clearly not designed for easy removal. The casing wasn’t metal, like Jackie expected, but some kind of polymer. Where it met flesh, there were scars: long furrows, clumsy and chaotic and not at all surgical.

There was an access panel on the arm’s shoulder, and the screws holding it in place all had a distinctive head. “Security screws,” Jackie said. “You need a proprietary screwdriver for these.”

“So we can’t open it?”

“What? No, I have the screwdriver here.” The toolbox rattled as Jackie fumbled through it. “You can buy them online. They’re like five bucks.”

The screws were all slightly different sizes, just to make Jackie’s life hell. She placed each on the table in a pattern roughly corresponding to where they’d been on the panel.

When she tried to pry the panel up, it didn’t move. Closer inspection revealed it was also glued in place.

It was probably unwise, not to mention impractical, to stick Connor’s arm in the oven. Luckily, Jackie had a heat gun. She tried to keep it away from Connor’s skin, but he still flinched every time the nozzle got a little too close.

Once the panel was off, Jackie grabbed a pen light and examined the board beneath. The network chip that received the lockout signal was easy enough to spot; it was, of course, glued to the board. Everything was.

“Chips are glued down,” Jackie reported.

“Can you melt the glue?”

“Probably shouldn’t,” Jackie explained. “Sometimes they like to layer acid between coats of glue. If I try to dissolve it or pry the chips off, I might damage the board.”

Another sweep of the pen light revealed a port without a connector.

“When they were setting this thing up,” Jackie asked, “did they have any cables plugged into it?”

Connor shifted in his seat. “I don’t remember. Does it matter?”

“Maybe. I think I see a debug port. They would’ve used it to calibrate the arm while it was being installed. If I can solder on a new connector, that might get us the access we need.” Jackie grabbed her laptop. “I’ll have to order the connector online, though. None of the suppliers in this city are anywhere near a bus stop.”

Connor said, “I have a car.”

“Is it the one with the tree growing out of it?”

There was, in the parking lot, a car with four flat tires and a tree growing out of it. It wasn’t a big tree—barely a sapling—but the fact that it was there at all was not a good sign.

The look on Connor’s face was all the answer Jackie needed.

A few days later, the courier delivering the new connector called Jackie and said, “I can’t find your address.”

“Oh. Your GPS is pointing you down the wrong street.” Jackie sighed; this was nowhere near the first time. “That’s the pedestrian entrance. Car access is through the parking lot, one street over.”

“Could you come down?”

Jackie groaned. “Yeah, sure.”

The courier hung up.

Jackie was only halfway down the stairs by the time her phone rang again. She answered without looking and said, “Hey, I’m on my way down.”

A voice that was not the courier said, “Jackie?”

Jackie stopped dead, her heart pounding up into her throat. “Wyatt. Hi. How’d you get this number?”

“I got it from Ethan.” Fucking Ethan. “I heard you moved.”

“Sure did,” Jackie said. With any luck Wyatt hadn’t heard where to.

“I’m gonna be out your way pretty soon. We should have coffee or something.”

Jackie’s mouth went dry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I asked you to leave me alone, Wyatt.” Jackie took a deep breath that rattled in her chest. “Please don’t call me again.”

She hung up, blocked the number, and managed to stop crying by the time the courier finally showed up.

In retrospect, it should’ve been obvious that soldering parts onto a board was much harder when the board was attached to a human being. One who, on occasion, had to breathe.

“How the hell did they even install this thing?” she grumbled, holding the soldering iron away from anything sensitive as she waited for Connor to settle.

“I was out for most of it,” Connor replied.

Distracted, Jackie asked, “‘Out?’”

“I was in the hospital. IED.”

Jackie had to put the soldering iron down. “You got blown up and then they stuck a robot arm on you? Don’t they have to get consent for stuff like that?”

“When I enlisted, I just signed whatever they put in front of me,” Connor said. “There was a form I could fill out to get an extra few thousand a year. I didn’t read it too closely.”

Jackie took a moment to calm down, picked up the iron again, and went back to work.

Once the connector was on, Jackie plugged in her laptop, opened a terminal, and pulled up the arm’s internal drive. There was a long list of utilities, all with arcane names and no indication as to what any of them did.

“This might take a while,” she warned Connor.

“How long?”

“Long enough that I shouldn’t sit here plugged into your arm the whole time.” Jackie typed out a command to copy the firmware to her own drive. “This next part is going to be very boring.”

Around midnight, Jackie closed her laptop and announced, “I need caffeine.”

Connor, half-asleep, grunted in agreement.

There was a convenience store a few blocks away. Jackie lunged for the drinks fridge the moment they arrived, grabbed two, cracked one open, then wandered toward the snack aisle for her usual ten minutes of indecision.

On the walk over, Connor had asked if Jackie was from around here.

“I like that the rent’s way cheaper.” Jackie wavered between chips and jerky. “I never could’ve afforded to live alone back home.”

“Don’t you miss your friends? Family?”

“My kind of people don’t hang out much in person anyway.”

Momentarily distracted by a display of sour candies, Jackie almost missed it when Connor said, “I don’t talk to anyone. From before.”

It was a weird thing to say right then. Jackie suspected Connor had been trying to say it for a while.

“They all felt so bad about it,” he went on. “And then I’d end up apologizing to them over how bad they felt. And then everyone kept ‘checking in,’ and complaining that I wouldn’t open up to them, and had I talked to my therapist lately, and ...” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the floor. “Eventually I just liked it better when I was alone.”

Jackie said, “Do you want some gummy bears? They’re two for one.”

“Yeah.” Connor’s laugh was short, brittle, but genuine. “Thanks.”

Halfway back to their building, Connor said, “Somebody’s following us.”

Jackie stumbled; Connor steadied her and urged her to keep moving.

“He was outside the convenience store,” Connor explained. “I wasn’t sure until we turned that last corner.”

“What should we do?” Jackie fought down the urge to look back. “The last time this happened I hid in a diner bathroom and called my mom, but she’s not—”

Connor turned on his heel and charged down the sidewalk, back the way they’d come. He had the guy by the front of his shirt by the time Jackie caught up.

She knew that guy.

“Wyatt?”

“Jackie!” Wyatt struggled indignantly in Connor’s grip. “What the fuck?”

Connor said, “You know him?”

“Somebody I knew back home,” Jackie said. “He followed me here.”

“He do that a lot?”

“He’s ... kind of why I had to move.”

Connor’s face settled into a cold mask. Whatever happened next was too fast to follow, and then Wyatt was on the ground, clutching his arm, howling.

There was blood, so deeply red it was almost black under the anemic street lights. Something protruded from the red-black mess, white and jagged, at a sickening angle from the natural line of his arm.

Jackie screamed.

Wyatt scrambled back and staggered to his feet. Jackie tried to help him stand, but he lurched away.

“No, no, wait,” Jackie was babbling, “please let me take you to the hospital—”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Wyatt spat, and bolted.

Connor ignored him. He was staring at her, eyes wide; his right hand reached out for her, but faltered.

She ran.

Jackie didn’t leave her apartment much for the next few days.

In spare moments, she sifted through her copy of the arm’s firmware: opening each utility and fiddling around until she’d figured out what it did. It was time-consuming, but comfortably monotonous—at least until the words “DEBUG TOOLS” appeared at the top of her terminal.

She still had the laptop open in her hands when she knocked on Connor’s door. Connor opened it, then stared at her without speaking, guilt etched across his face.

“Hi,” Jackie said.

“Hi,” Connor replied. “I figured you weren’t talking to me anymore.”

“Yeah. Well.” Jackie cleared her throat. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“I know. You didn’t, though.”

“I know.”

“So. Uh.” Jackie hefted her laptop. “It looks like the company left their whole suite of testing tools installed on your arm.”

“And that’s good?”

“Very,” Jackie said. “They would’ve used all these scripts and commands to run tests while they were developing the firmware. They’ll let us completely bypass the security on your arm and start switching things off.” She lowered the laptop. “You still want to do this?”

A shaky laugh escaped Connor’s throat; he leaned heavily against the door. “Yeah. I do.”

They settled back in at the dining room table, and Jackie plugged her laptop in.

The trick wasn’t getting the arm to ignore the lockout signal. The trick was getting it to respond to the manufacturer as though it had initiated the lockout, even though it hadn’t. Jackie wound up scripting a workaround so that the arm would receive the command, report back like a good little robot, but otherwise completely ignore the lockout order.

It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job.

“Okay.” Jackie opened up another of the test utilities. “I’m going to send a fake lockout signal to the arm, now. Let’s see what happens.”

“If this works,” Connor said, “I owe you dinner.”

“Don’t promise that,” Jackie warned him. “I’m not a cheap date.”

The false lockout signal went through. The arm sent its report back, indicating that it had done as it was told.

“Try to move your arm,” Jackie said.

Connor’s hand twitched, then closed into a fist.

They took the metro downtown. The train rattled and shrieked the whole way; the cars themselves looked to be at least twenty years old, but had been gutted at some point in the last few years so the seats could be “upgraded” to hard, molded plastic. It didn’t deter anyone from sleeping on them.

Connor decided not to wear gloves.

Jackie had found the sushi bar online. It was basically a closet, but the reviews were good—deservedly so, as it turned out. They (mostly Jackie) had demolished at least four rolls and several orders of nigiri when Connor said, “I washed out after they installed the arm.”

Jackie paused to chew and swallow before answering. “Right after?”

“The plan was to send me back out there,” Connor said. “They figured I’d wake up, be grateful for the upgrade, and go right back to fighting. I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “I felt wrong.”

Despite her best efforts, Jackie recalled the scars around Connor’s shoulder. Scars that could’ve been made by fingernails.

“Anyway.” Connor smiled at her. “Thank you.”

All in a rush, Jackie said, “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Connor’s head tilted to the side, like a confused dog. “Okay?”

“I just need to make that clear, because sometimes I get friendly with a guy and he thinks things are going in that direction and then gets upset when they don’t.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t think things are going in that direction.”

“Oh.” Jackie slumped back into her seat with relief. “Good.”

Just as the metro was pulling into their station, it came to an abrupt screeching halt. Out on the platform, someone screamed.

Dread pooled in Jackie’s gut. “What’s going on?”

An alert came over the speakers overhead, announcing that all passengers needed to exit the train immediately. There was an edge of panic in the air as they disembarked.

On the platform, a crowd had gathered in front of the gap between two train cars. “What happened?” Jackie asked.

“He jumped,” someone said. “He jumped in front of the train.”

Jackie went cold as the fear in her gut started to spread. “Is he—?”

Connor was taller than most of the others; he leaned over them to look down through the gap between cars, to the tracks below. Recognition flickered across his face.

“What?” Jackie grabbed his sleeve. “Who is it?”

“Nobody.” Connor hooked his arm through Jackie’s and steered her away from the edge of the platform.

Jackie tried to turn back, suspicion dawning. “Is it him?”

Connor didn’t answer.

“Connor.” Jackie tugged on his arm, heart racing. “Is it Wyatt?”

“No.”

She blinked, rapidly. There was something in her eyes. “Are you lying to me?”

Connor shook his head, and Jackie let him pull her up the escalators and out of the station.

It was wordlessly understood that neither of them wanted to be alone, so they ended up in Jackie’s living room while some mindless video played on the TV. Jackie lay on the couch, curled up on her side; Connor sat on the floor next to her head, Greg sprawled purring across his lap.

Eventually, Connor said, “It’s a stupid way to try and kill yourself.”

Jackie didn’t know how to answer that, but he didn’t need her to.

“The train is slowing down as it comes into the station,” he continued. “It’s not going fast enough to kill you. At least not right away.”

All at once, Jackie understood why Connor lived in a building only three stories tall. Why he shaved with an electric razor. Why his car sat unused in an open-air parking lot.

She saw the shape of the grand gesture Connor had ruined by ushering her away from the train before she could see who it hit.

She knew she could check the news to see who it was, and decided she wouldn’t.

Jackie slung one arm around Connor’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug, resting her forehead against the back of his neck.

Connor took her fragile human hand in his mechanical one and held on tight.

(my ko-fi)

#original fiction #short story #science fiction #cyberpunk #cw stalking #cw suicide

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kayhi808 · 1 year

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Perfect Match

"This is my birth right! I was born for this! You can't just marry me off to some…some asshole!" I should have expected it, but i was so caught up in my outrage. My father's fist caught me by surprise. Pain in my jaw exploded. I was able to block his next punch & jump back.

Jabbing his finger in my face, "No one will take the Family seriously with you leading. Use your brain, you fucking idiot! Who's going to take orders from a woman?!" He snarls, "And you will do as you're fucking told!" Father stomps around his desk and throws himself into his chair. "Get the fuck out of here! You disgust me."

Ditto! I leave his study with my head held high. My grandfather is the head of one of the largest crime families. His heir, my father, is an idiot. I was born into this life, to lead. My father thinks to use me as a pawn & marry me off to some meathead, have his babies while he rules New York?? I don't think so! I've learned everything I need, at my grandfather's knee as far back as I can remember. My father has brute strength, but not the brains to run the Family. He has no head for business. He's too busy fucking some woman or bullying the people beneath him. He's an enforcer, not a leader.

I return to my apartment & head to the bathroom to check out the damage. It could be worse, I think, as I lean in closer to the mirror, wetting a washcloth to wipe away the dried blood from my split lip. My jaw is going to bruise. It hasn't stopped throbbing. I should get an ice pack. I leave the bathroom & a hand clamps over my already throbbing mouth & I'm pulled back against a hard body. I try to bite him through his leather gloves, but it does not phase him. I throw my head back hoping to break a nose, but he's tall. I feel that I may have clipped his chin. He shoves me up against the wall pinning me with his body & a fistful of hair, tilting my head to the side. I feel an icy pinch in my neck and the world goes black.

*****

Shit! She's a fighter. Didn't expect that. Billy pick's you up and lays you on the bed. He traces your split lip and bruised jaw with his finger. What happened, Angel? He knew what you looked like when he was planning the kidnapping, but seeing you up close & in person…you've got to be the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. , Billy gently picks you up and exits your apartment.

*****

"Morning, Angel." Jerking awake & immediately noticing my wrists are tied & restrained to the bed. I turn my head in the direction of the voice & choke, trying to swallow but my mouth is dry as cotton. "Easy. Easy."

There's a man seated at the edge of the bed. Close cropped dark hair, chiseled face, laced with horrific scars. He holds out a glass of water with a straw. "Small sips or you'll make yourself sick. If you throw up, I ain't cleaning it. I'll let you lie in it." I refuse, pressing my lips in a thin line and he smiles. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. Drink."

I'm still fully clothed. He didn't undress & rape me while unconcious. He's telling the truth. If he wanted me dead, i'd be dead. I take a small sip. It's just water, but it makes my throat feel 100% better. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Your dad hired me for a job & thought he could get away without paying," shaking his head. "Not a wise move on his part."

"He's an idiot," I spit out as I take in my surroundings. It's a very nice bedroom. Decorated in navy & greys. We're in a high rise? The curtains are open and all I see is blue skies.

"I just want what's owed me." He reaches for his phone on the side table. "And you'll help me get it."

"I'm not helping you with shit!" He has the nerve to smile at my glare. I notice the pulling of his skin by his scars when he smiles. What happened to him? He punches in a number and he has it on speaker phone. I can hear the ringing.

I hear my Dad's voice. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I want what's owed to me. One million. You wanted the guy dead. He's dead."

"The job was cancelled. It's not my fault you didn't check your phone," laughing.

"I was already out on the job! I'm not leaving my phone on in the middle of a hit!" I notice a tick in his jaw. This guy is getting upset. "You cancelled it 2 minutes before it was completed."

"Jesus Christ, Dad! Stop jerking him around & pay him his money!" There's silence on the other end of the phone & my kidnapper throws his head back & growls. He levels me with a glare. I mouth back "what??"

"Baby?? Is that you?"

I cringe at him calling me Baby. "Yes! Pay this guy his money so he can let me go."

"I will fucking kill you, Russo! You let her go right NOW!" I hear voices in the background. They are scrambling.

"Once the transfer is completed, your daughter will be released safe & sound."

"If you hurt her...."

"You are in no position to be giving ultimatums! Give me my money, or your daughter will pay the price." He hangs up and stares at me. I glare at him & he gives me a smile again. A weird part of me wants to smile back.

"Russo?"

"Bill Russo."

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #S2 Billy russo AU

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indigosunsetao3 · 7 months

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Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 11 - Tension

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 8.7k words - AO3 Link

Emma walked down to the gym the next morning feeling the soreness between her legs and down the back of them as she moved. Soap had really done a number on her but it was a nice sore, one that had her biting her lip and smiling to herself as she scanned into the already lit-up room to find it occupied more than usual. Soap was already in there at the weights, shifting them about as he assessed what he could and couldn’t use. Emma stared at his back for a moment and he caught her eye in the mirror but gave her the most subtle shake of his head and dared to dart a glance toward Ghost. She hadn’t even seen Ghost sitting there, her eyes had zeroed in on Johnny as if he were a magnet drawing her in.

Ghost was seated on a bench with his forearms resting on his knees just staring daggers into Soap’s back. He was watching his every move, narrowing his eyes as Soap picked up a heavier weight, thought better of it, and put it back down. It was as if Soap were taking his time, purposely distracting Ghost, because he knew what weights he had been cleared to use by Emma and what he needed to wait on. She may have agreed to clear him today but they still needed to put on a show of it, act as if nothing had changed overnight.

The minute Ghost saw Emma staring he locked his eyes on her instead. “Need something?” He asked, his voice low.

“Ah, no,” Emma ventured, hating that she heard her own voice tremble a bit. She turned her head over to the treadmills to find Alex there, walking leisurely but monitoring the situation carefully. “I was just surprised to see everyone is all,” which was the truth. She didn’t add on it felt like the atmosphere was charged and a bomb was going to go off any minute.

“Then I suggest you get to work,” Ghost answered. “Soap is perfectly capable of lifting a dumbbell without you hovering,” he snapped. Emma opened her mouth to retort but chose to venture off to a machine, her eyes daring to look at Soap again but he didn’t meet her glance. Something was definitely off and she felt the cold surge of anxiety start to build in her stomach.

“Morning,” Emma mumbled to Alex who merely grimaced at her before mumbling a good morning back. Something had happened between Soap and Ghost after she had left them alone the night before, but she was terrified to know what. Surely, Ghost didn’t know what happened between them? It had to be something else she assured herself but she couldn’t think what else it could have been.

All the giddy excitement had been wiped out of her by the time she was done at the gym. No one was really talking to one another and Ghost seemed to be acting like a guard for Soap against her. He wouldn’t let her near him, using his body language and positioning to keep her blocked from him and vice versa. As each minute passed the dread was building up inside of her, he knew. There was no way he didn’t know. Now what was he going to do with that knowledge? If Price found out, Laswell, her contract could be in jeopardy and it was more than just her job on the line here.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex muttered as they walked out of the gym together leaving Soap and Ghost to it. “Ghost is just, well, he’s being his usual asshole self. Something pissed him off and he’s making Soap his target of it,” Alex explained as he wiped at his hair with a towel. He was easing back into his workouts and the little that he did today normally wouldn’t have made him even break a sweat had him drenched in it.

“Alex,” Emma bit her cheek, hesitating on spilling her guts on everything. She knew she could trust him, she had talked and grown close with him over the past few weeks. He was a sympathetic ear and always willing to dole out advice to her or give her tips on dealing with everyone in the 141. But she hadn’t talked to Soap about it and didn’t know how he would feel if she said anything to him about what happened between them. She stared up at him as he waited patiently for her to finish the debate in her mind, “would Ghost say anything?” She knew that was a very vague statement but she hoped he picked up on what she was trying to convey without actually saying it, “if he knew something would he tell Price? Or Laswell?”

Alex hesitated, it was his turn to figure out just what he wanted to say to her and how to say it. “Ghost isn’t going to run to leadership if he doesn’t have cause. He works out his issues on his own,” he finally said, pausing to gesture her down an empty hallway as a group of people headed their way. “He’s not vindictive for the hell of it,” he tried to explain before sighing. Emma knew there was more to it, more that he wanted to tell her but wouldn’t, or couldn’t. “Just…trust me when I say that Ghost is protective of his team,” he reached out and grabbed her upper arm gently, “his whole team.”

Emma scoffed, she knew it wasn’t his whole team because Ghost looked at her like he wished nothing more but to stamp her out, he was only putting up with her because Price said he had to. “Yes, even you,” Alex continued knowing what she was thinking. “There’s been things happening that have him on edge. Our mission where Soap and I got hurt made matters even worse,” he sighed again and let go of her arm to wipe at his face again. “I’m sorry can’t give you more than that.”

“Things like me,” Emma ventured as she crossed her arms over her chest, “he’s been angry at me since I first started, he made it very clear I’m not welcome and he doesn’t want anything to do with me.” There had been a moment, a brief one, where it looked like they might get along. During those long days when the rest of the team was gone, it was just the two of them working and waiting on news. That was short-lived though because the moment the group was back it was as if the switch had been flipped back.

“That’s not true,” Alex stated, “look I know Ghost isn’t as friendly as the rest of us but you wouldn’t be here at all if you weren’t welcome. He would have had Price pawn you off on someone else or just sent you away altogether. Price listens to Ghost’s opinions and respects them.” Emma gave him an incredulous look, “I really need you to just listen to me, okay?” His face turned serious as he stared down at her, “I need you to just trust what I am telling you, don’t keep poking. Just keep doing what you are doing and it’ll be fine. Soap and Ghost need to work out their own shit.” His face split into a grin and Emma reluctantly gave him a smile back. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”

“Fine,” Emma finally agreed though she was still nervous. Alex didn’t know everything that happened between her and Soap. She knew Alex suspected but she had a very uncomfortable feeling that Ghost knew for sure and he was pissed about it. How it was any of his business, aside from the fact it was frowned upon, Emma wasn’t sure but he seemed to be taking everything she did personally.

Just as they were about to walk away Emma spotted Crane walking down the hallway, his eyes cutting to them briefly before going back to the papers he was reviewing. “Morning,” Emma called to him with a small smile, which he returned before Alex twisted away from her to go walk with him. As if she weren’t paranoid enough that morning now she had to worry about how much, if any, of the conversation Crane had just heard.

“Now that Soap is back, we’re almost at full capacity,” Price explained as they stood outside of the warehouse. Emma had cleared Soap a few hours before, turning over the paperwork to Price who seemed pleased with his progress. Even if Soap said he thought it would be funny to tell Price about what made her make the choice, Emma didn’t dare. Just the thought of Price even knowing had made her cheeks hot and she had to shake it off before she went into his office.

“Alex has been cleared to do run throughs, but only at light duty,” he nodded his head toward Alex who was suited up with the rest of them. Emma had given Alex the green light for light duty only, he was to be closely monitored and to step away if he felt any strain. Alex had agreed and unlike Soap she trusted he wouldn’t actually overdo it.

The wind had picked up in the desert today and all of them had some sort of covering over their faces, including Emma who had a scarf tied tightly over her face. It made the heat feel more suffocating to be breathing under the cloth but the sand was blowing everywhere. How Ghost wore his face covering all the time she’d never know, she always instantly ripped her masks off at the hospital.

“We’re going to run team drills,” Price instructed, “Alex and Gaz,” he gestured to them and they nodded, “Ghost and Crane,” he pointed to them and the two men looked at one another and nodded, “Emma and Soap,” he pointed to Emma and Soap, to which they both tilted their heads in acknowledgment. Emma dared to cut her eyes over to Soap who had a full-on balaclava over his face, like Ghost, except it was just solid black. He didn’t look at her though, his eyes were face forward on the door and he adjusted his gun strap over his shoulder.

“First team to the roof wins,” Price answered. “Both members have to make it, and if you’re last, you’ll be running laps around the base until I say stop,” which was punishment enough. The dust was thick outside and it was hard enough to breathe through protective face wear without running. “You’re clear to incapacitate other teams as long as it doesn’t end up with a hospital visit.” Price’s eyes landed pointedly on Ghost before darting over to Soap. Even Price must have picked up on the tension between the two of them, it was oozing off them just standing there. “I know I don’t have to say it, but don’t break Alex,” his eyes roved over the rest group and Crane chuckled a bit, “just touch him out.”

“If you catch me,” Alex replied, his eyes crinkling up in a smirk which earned him a pat on his shoulder from Gaz. Price himself seemed to grin before opening the door, “everyone in, and when I say go, you have forty-five seconds to separate and work your way to the end.”

Emma moved to stand next to Soap once they were inside, her eyes moving to look up at him as she took a few steadying breaths. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, she could see the tension in his shoulders even under all his gear and his eyes were tight. This was not how she pictured the day after going between them. She pictured shy glances, well shy from her cocky from him, and subtle teasing. The fun stuff, none of these tense and slightly awkward exchanges they were having.

“Fine,” Soap answered her in a clipped tone as he turned to look down at her before his eyes snapped up to Ghost who was watching them again. “I need you just be quick, alright? I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to be,” he explained as Emma turned to follow Soap’s eyeline to see Ghost staring at them. “I’m not looking for a fight, I’m looking to just get to the roof and getting you out of here,” he finished, moving his hand as if he were going to grab hers but stopping himself and dropping it back to his side. It had been the only soft gesture from him all day.

Emma nodded, feeling the nerves start to give her the shakes in her knees and hands. She and Soap hadn’t had a chance to train together this way before and based on how all the other training had gone they were going to get caught first. She needed to learn Soap’s technique, which took time they seemingly didn’t have because it felt like Ghost was going to be hunting them personally.

“Go,” came Price’s voice over the intercom and everyone was moving. Emma stayed close behind Soap as he moved toward the back corner of the warehouse. Back to where they had just been the night before and if Emma hadn’t been so worried about trying to put as much distance between them and Ghost as they could she would have said something. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ghost and Crane slip down a side street but turned her attention back to Soap as he held his hand out to her to get her to move along.

Soap moved with a grace that was surprising for someone as stocky as he was, his foot falls quiet as he led them down street after street. He paused only to climb over a fence and extend his arms out to help her, or to open a door do a quick sweep then usher her inside. They were making good progress but Emma kept looking over her shoulder as they went, knowing that Crane liked to lurk behind and Ghost enjoyed lunging from the shadows. She was on edge, nearly jumping out of her skin when the strap on her helmet moved out of the corner of her eye.

“We’re good for now,” Soap said quietly, his voice muffled by the balaclava as he knelt down at a doorway and peered out it. His gun with the yellow cover on the end of the muzzle was resting lightly on his thigh as he caught his breath and watched the area. “Alex and Gaz are avoiding us, I saw them a few yards back,” he explained and Emma knew her face portrayed confusion. She hadn’t seen them at all, but Soap must have picked them off at some point. “I don’t care if they get there first, I just care we don’t get there last,” he explained as Emma shifted as if she were ready to run if he asked her to, to outpace Gaz and Alex.

Emma nodded rolled back on her heels again and pressed herself into Soap’s back waiting for his signal. He was tense, his shoulders shifting under her hands as he looked about and Emma squeezed her fingers lightly on him. He didn’t shove her off, that was a good sign, right? Maybe he just didn’t want to show any type of affection or attention in front of the rest of the group, though that hadn’t stopped him before. Her eyes were darting around the room as they crouched there, checking the other entrances into this house but she didn’t see or hear a thing. This area of the warehouse was darker and she didn’t like how the shadows seemed to move because there was a chance it was Ghost in them. “What is going on between you and Ghost?” Emma ventured after a moment, daring to address the obvious tension.

“Nothing,” Soap answered quickly, not taking his eyes off the street to look at her. “Nothing you have to worry about anyway,” he added on before cocking his head to the side as if listening. He must have heard something Emma didn’t because he quickly turned around and put his finger to his covered lips to indicate for her to be quiet.

Emma nodded, letting go of his shoulders, and strained her ears to hear something, anything, but all that came to her was the buzzing of the light outside and her own heavy breathing. She needed to work on her listening skills apparently because Soap was tracking something, he leaned out the door slightly to peer before jolting back. His eyes gave it away before he opened his mouth to speak, someone was close.

“Go,” Soap suddenly whispered and pointed to the back door. Rising together they moved, Soap’s hand on the back of Emma’s neck to keep her down as they exited the back door. They quickly jumped another fence, Soap grabbing her waist and hoisting her up and over before following behind. They were crouched moving around front yards before slipping into what looked like a fake library. There were rows and rows of shelves with books, though Emma suspected they were fake.

This building seemed to not be used much in training, there was dust flying as they swept through. She made a mental note to come back here next time she had to go it alone, there were plenty of hiding spots and this was obviously overlooked. After they cleared the main entrance Soap had them darting down the middle of one of the stacks before pausing and turning around to face Emma so she ran right into his chest.

“They’re right behind us,” Soap breathed into her ear as he curled around her, his arms steading her rocking frame from being thrown off balance. “I need you to stay down and stay quiet. I’m going to get Crane. If I can get him to tap, we are home free because both team members have to make it,” he sounded worried. Why the hell was he so worried? It was a training exercise, right? Price was watching them and he had said no hospital level injuries. “Just wait here, don’t move,” Soap reiterated before he stood up and disappeared around a corner.

Emma stayed where she was, her body crouched and ready to run to the point where she felt like she was vibrating with anticipation. She heard a noise to her right that made her jump, it sounded like a scuffle and there were a few grunts and the sound of something hitting the wall, then…a laugh? Were they laughing about this? She supposed this type of training really was a game to most of them, but Ghost made it seem like it was a true hunt. Emma shut her eyes to try and hear better when she was grabbed around the middle and yanked off balance. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She was hauled up and back off her feet in a swift motion and she felt the shriek leave her lips involuntarily as rough arms slammed her down face-first into the ground. She knew it was Ghost, it had to be because no one else was this brutal with her, and Gaz and Alex had probably almost made it to the roof by now. She squirmed and kicked back with her foot and she extended her arms in front of her to try and crawl away but her ankle was grabbed and dragged back. “Get off,” Emma shrieked, feeling panic build up in her throat. This was different, all of this felt different and wrong and she was actually scared this time. Alex’s words to trust Ghost were ringing in her head but she couldn’t, he wasn’t here seeing or feeling this.

“Make me,” Ghost snarled as he pinned her to the floor with the crushing weight of his own body. One of his hands made quick work of her helmet strap and he knocked it away just so he could push her face harder into the floor, her jaw screaming from the pressure. “Make me get off you, Sleeper,” he stated again as his hand gripped hard at the back of her neck to keep her head and shoulders pinned to the floor. Emma froze for a moment, the use of her old nickname from her Air Force days had been like a slap from the past she wasn’t expecting. How did he know that? It wasn’t in her file because it wasn’t an official call sign, just a nickname from friends. She hadn’t even told Soap that in all their late-night talking because she honestly forgot all about it.

She didn’t have time to linger on it as he twisted the fist into the back of her scarf so it was pulled tight over her mouth and nose making it even harder to breathe as he leaned down close to the side of her head. “Fight me off,” he ordered right into her ear, his mouth close enough that his mask brushed over her ear which made Emma jerk away. She couldn’t move far though, he was straddled over her hips, his legs pinning hers and his chest was pressed up tight against her back.

Emma was breathing fast as she wriggled under him, her hands searching for grip on the floor to try and push herself up and throw him off. They weren’t finding it though; her nerves were causing her to shake so she couldn’t get her arms in the right position to even try and push him off. Emma couldn’t think straight with him on her like this in the semi-darkness, her eyes were blinking rapidly to try and see but all she could think about was the pain in her face and how crushed she felt under his body weight. There was no way out of it, she was going to have to tap and that meant she and Soap would be running laps but at this point, she’d rather be out in the heat struggling to breathe from dust than here. Emma slapped her hand rapidly onto the floor waiting for the release of the pressure on her and to be able to breathe properly again. But he didn’t let go. He instead grabbed the hand that was extended out pulled it hard behind her back and held her wrist like a vice.

“No,” he said pushing right up against her ear again in a soft whisper, “you aren’t tapping. You know how to get out of this,” Ghost instructed and Emma all but sobbed at him in response, the panic taking hold now. “Take a fucking moment to breathe and throw me off,” he stated, shaking his hand that held the scarf tight around her face before he squeezed his other hand tight on her wrist again. The pain of both of his actions was like a hot poker line that served as a jolt in her mind to focus on the agony and not the panic. “Breathe,” he instructed again, his voice still a command but maybe not as lethal sounding. “Get yourself out of this without taking the easy way out. There is no tapping when you’re in the field. You get free or you die,” he curled his fist tighter on her scarf and Emma whimpered as she tried to gather her thoughts.

Emma was going to have a panic attack; she could feel it starting to build as her fingers and toes grew numb, her breathing was fast and shallow trying to get enough air into her lungs. The lightheadedness was starting to fog her mind but she still attempted to fight, using her hips to try and twist to push Ghost off of her side. That didn’t work and she attempted to get her knees up so she could buck him forward off of her, but her legs just scrambled weakly on the ground. It wasn’t working, she was stuck and she couldn’t think of any other way to get him off and he certainly wasn’t going to help her.

“I can’t,” she cried out after a moment as she moved to rip the scarf off her mouth with her only free hand to get a proper breath, gasping as the cooler air hit her face. She was twisting and turning under in him the way an animal would if they were cornered. “I tap Ghost, please, I tap,” she begged but he still didn’t move, the hand around the scarf now pulling it tight around her neck. He was going to make her fight her way out of this or let her pass out. Would he even notice if she just gave up the fight and went limp? Would he care?

Then a bunch of things happened all at once. There was the sound of loud footfalls, a curse, and a set of boots near her head. Then Emma felt the weight on her back suddenly relent before a crashing sound against the bookshelves. Without Ghost on her back, Emma took her first real deep gasping breath and she pushed up onto her hands to look up and see what happened. Tears were streaming down her face and furiously wiped at them, not wanting anyone to see before she ripped the damned scarf off her and threw it to the floor.

“She fucking tapped Ghost,” Soap was snarling as he and Ghost tussled against the bookshelves. Soap had his back to the books and Ghost had him pinned, his forearm on Soap’s throat to hold him there. Soap didn’t stay that way for long though as he knocked the arm away and aimed for a hit against Ghost’s ribs which caused Ghost to grunt and double over. “You know the goddamn rules, you let up when someone taps,” Soap continued before Ghost slammed an elbow into the side of Soap’s head, causing Soap’s head to snap to the side and him to stumble back. Soap instantly retaliated until they were cursing and hitting one another in such a vicious brawl Emma scurried up and away to get out of the path. She backed up right into Crane who was standing there looking almost as shocked as she felt, but he didn’t move to intervene.

“Get your head out of your fucking cock Soap,” Ghost answered as Soap looked like he was going to aim a kick right for Ghost’s chest. Ghost anticipated it and grabbed his foot and yanked it so Soap lost his footing and fell back into the shelf again and Ghost was on him in an instant, his face nose to nose to Soap’s. “You think you are helping her by rescuing her?” Ghost barked. “She needs to figure out her own fucking shit without all of you coddling her. She needs to learn to master her fear and get out of situations because we won’t always be there.” He slammed his palms into Soap’s chest before backing up and pulling down his mask over his nose to wipe away the blood that was gushing there.

Soap was fuming. He had a split above his eyebrow and he pulled down his own mask to spit blood onto the floor as he stared at Ghost. “You have done nothing but berate and belittle her since she got here,” Soap answered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve never acted like this toward anyone, not even me. She’s absolutely covered in bruises, Ghost. Some of them are the exact shape of your fucking hands,” he snarled as he gestured toward Emma who felt herself shrink as both men looked over at her.

“And how do you know that?” Ghost asked quietly, his voice so low Emma could barely hear it. “Hmm?” He questioned as Soap didn’t respond to the question, obviously looking for a good answer that didn’t implicate both him and Emma. Ghost stalked back to fill the space between him and Soap again. “Tell me. How do you know she has bruises all over her body, Sergeant?” Ghost continued, “have you seen them?”

“Yes,” Soap said after a moment of charged silence. He glanced over at Emma who was still standing back by Crane, fighting the urge to just run. She felt all the eyes on her, including Crane and she knew Price was watching all of this go down on camera. “You can see them now if you look at her. You can see where you have choked her so hard that she has five fingerprints on her throat. You can see it on her legs in the gym,” he made eye contact with Crane before looking back at Ghost. “We’ve all seen it,” Soap continued, skirting over the accusation that Ghost was throwing at him. Crane nodded his agreement as the two of them looked over again, though Crane obviously did not want to be involved in this fight.

Ghost laughed, actually laughed, at Soap before he answered, “you were always good at twisting the situation Johnny,” he patted him on the shoulder in a very sarcastic gesture that made Emma cringe. Everyone in the room knew what Ghost had been saying without saying it, that he knew Soap had seen Emma intimately and he wasn’t talking about innocent glances at her legs and neck. “I know what happened last night. I gave you a chance to tell me when I saw you come back, but you lied,” the last word a hiss, his voice lethal but so low Emma could barely hear it standing there. It was as if he were trying to keep it quiet from the cameras and maybe even Crane. “In all of your haste your goddamn mic was flipped on,” he explained before reaching out and flicking the throat mic on Soap’s neck before getting down to be almost nose to nose with Soap. “You’re lucky it was only me that heard. What would have happened if another commander did? Or if someone walked in? You would have been thoroughly fucked and not by her.” Ghost gestured to Emma with his free hand, his voice snarling on the word her.

Emma blanched; she could feel the blood rush from her face as Soap glanced sidelong at her before going back to Ghost. Soap had a look of concern as well but he didn’t let it show for long, his anger winning out over anything else. Ghost didn’t say what he had heard, which was still enough plausible deniability if Price or anyone questioned. Crane shifted uncomfortably on his feet but didn’t make any other sound as the men stared one another down.

“You asshole,” Soap seethed as he slapped Ghost’s hands away from his mic. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you sit there and listen like a filthy fucking dog? Listen and wish it were you instead?” He asked and reached out to shove Ghost but Ghost was faster and pinned Soap by the throat on the bookshelf, hard enough that Soap was forced up on his toes. Emma jumped at the impact but didn’t move to help, knowing her mere presence was only making this whole situation worse and what exactly could she do anyway.

“You’re done Sergeant,” Ghost snapped as Soap moved to fight him off, his arm aiming for the elbow to release Ghost’s grip. “That’s an order,” he tacked on and Soap froze. Pulling rank was a low blow and Soap narrowed his eyes ready to argue as Ghost finally released him. “Pack up your shit and go shower off. We’ll see you later. Emma needs a proper run through,” he cut his eyes to Emma then and she felt her body tense up. She knew Price wouldn’t let him actually kill her but it seemed pain and panic weren’t off the table and she was going to have to do this all over again, this time without Soap there to stop it.

Soap pushed off the books and he grabbed his discarded gun off the floor flinging it back over his shoulder. “Pulling rank is a bullshit answer,” Soap growled as he looked over at Ghost who was standing there with his arms crossed. “You just can’t handle when someone calls you out for your insane tactics and fucking snooping,” he needled as he realigned his vest. It seemed Soap was still looking for a fight because his last words were all it took. Ghost moved to lunge for him again and Soap had readied his hands when Price’s voice cut in over the intercom causing Emma to jump.

“Enough!” Price’s voice echoed, sounding pissed. “You’re both done. Soap, Ghost, get your shit together and get out of my training session,” he ordered and Emma looked at Ghost as he glared at the camera. “Figure yourselves out while we finish here and see me in my office at nineteen hundred hours to discuss this bullshit,” he finished. Soap and Ghost looked at one another before moving to leave the room, Soap daring to give Emma a sidelong look as he walked out the door. Emma was afraid they were going to continue fighting but Price seemed to lay down the law enough that they didn’t dare.

“Reset,” Price said a few moments later as a door in the distance slammed shut indicating Soap and Ghost had exited the building. “Everyone for themselves this time since two of you are goddamn children,” he snarled before the mic cut out.

Emma looked at Crane who merely shrugged before letting her lead the way back out to the beginning of the simulation. Alex and Gaz appeared looking confused as ever and Gaz leaned over to ask Emma what happened when Price cut back in with the countdown for them to begin. Emma was still shaking, her mind racing over everything that had just happened. She had been terrified before when Ghost had her pinned but now, she was beyond horrified about what she had witnessed between Soap and Ghost. They were teammates, had been for years, how were they going to come back from that? That fight seemed lethal and something had cracked between the two of them which made her heart ache. All of it was over her, because of her. And now what was Price going to do with all of them?

“Go,” Price called out over the intercom and Emma broke out in a run, her mind moving faster than her legs ever could.

When Price finally called an end three hours later Emma quickly left the warehouse, not wanting to talk about what had happened with anyone. She was sure Crane would fill in Gaz and Alex on it, and frankly she didn’t want to hear it again or see the looks. She also didn’t want Alex’s advice about how Ghost wasn’t that bad, how he was just trying to help her in his own way. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen what Ghost had done to her, or felt the crushing weight of him on his back. There were ways to train people and he was taking it to the extreme that probably would have had him kicked out if he tried it anywhere else outside of the 141. Then there was the fact he had heard what happened between her and Soap last night, the mortification she was feeling was enough to make her cry again and she hustled to the showers.

She stayed under the hot water until it ran out, people coming and going from the room as she just leaned against the wall and tried to get her thoughts in order. She needed to know what Soap was thinking, was he regretting what happened between them? Because she was sure he never would have reacted toward Ghost like that otherwise. She also needed to figure out where she stood now that everything was out in the open, without explicitly being out in the open. She didn’t want to just be viewed as Soap’s, whatever she was, and she couldn’t put her job in jeopardy over that. Then there was the worst thought of Ghost having overheard them together. How much had he heard? She hoped he had only listened long enough to garner what was happening before cutting off his feed. Why couldn’t it have been Gaz who caught them? He would have teased them both until their ears bled but it wouldn’t have felt as wrong, as dirty, as Ghost overhearing them.

Not wanting the water to turn to ice Emma left the showers, pulling on her dirty clothes again because she didn’t dare stop at her room, and headed out. She couldn’t go back to their area yet; Price wanted a meeting with Soap and Ghost and it would be another hour before that started and she couldn’t face any of them yet. So she turned and headed to the communications area and opted to check in with her family, sending her mother a short email and her brother a more lengthy one. It ate up a decent amount of her time, enough she thought the mess hall would be nearly empty so she could grab dinner. She didn’t feel hungry but she knew she needed to eat something or risk waking up with a killer headache in the morning.

She sat at a table alone and picked at her food, her eyes staring at the table seeing but not really seeing as she just sat with her thoughts. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall watching it slowly tick away the time, knowing Soap and Ghost were talking with Price, but not knowing how long it would take or when it would be over. Another hour dragged by and Emma saw the kitchen staff peering at her as they cleaned up and were politely giving her space but obviously wanting her to leave so they could be done for the night.

Taking the hint Emma rose from her chair when she heard the door swing open and someone call out her name. She tensed and turned around to find Price standing there looking serious but at least not murderous. “You’re a hard woman to track down,” he said as Emma approached the trash to dispose of her half-eaten food and tray.

“Tell that to Ghost,” Emma mumbled under her breath as she turned to face him. She had a feeling he was going to want to talk to her, though she didn’t think it would be tonight. “I can’t seem to do anything without him always right behind me,” she muttered and even looked behind Price to see if he was in the hallway.

Price just grinned a bit before gesturing her out of the mess hall, giving a small wave to the staff before following her out. “Let’s go talk in my office,” he stated simply before moving around her to lead the way. Emma felt the nerves in her stomach start to flutter at the thought of getting a talking to. Emma supposed she should be glad they were talking about this now and he wasn’t going to torture her and wait until the morning, because even though he had not indicated he wanted to talk to her it was only going to be a matter of time.

Once they were in the office Price shut the door lightly and moved to take a seat behind his desk, leaving Emma to take up one of the chairs in front of it. “Do you want to start or me?” He asked, his eyes locked on hers as Emma twisted her fingers in her lap from anxiety. When she spotted him watching her hands she stopped and rubbed them on her thighs to get the sweat off of them.

“You can, sir,” Emma answered, her fingers digging into the material of her pants to keep them from shaking. She felt like there was an axe looming over her head and was waiting for it to fall at any moment. Price wasn’t giving anything away in his body language, good or bad. “I’m honestly not sure where to start or what to talk about,” she admitted.

“Well, let’s start with the fight,” Price answered simply, “between Soap and Ghost. Care to tell me your side of it?” He asked, moving to lean on his desk so his forearms were braced on it, his hands clasped together.

“I, well, I don’t really have much to say? I was pinned by Ghost and he wasn’t letting me up after I tried to tap out so Soap knocked him off of me,” Emma started. “Then they sort of just got into it. Things have been tense between them all day, this morning at workout Ghost was watching him like a hawk and they were very short with one another,” Emma tacked on to which Price merely nodded.

“Soap told me that Ghost has been…unusually rough with you,” Price ventured, “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Emma said simply. “I don’t know what his usual is but he seems to take enjoyment in pinning me down, attacking me when I don’t suspect it, and nearly choking me out.” She reached up and unconsciously rubbed at her throat before letting her hand fall into her lap. “He terrifies me sometimes if I’m being honest.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to me?” Price asked simply, “I told you way back in the beginning that if you were hurt you were to come to me. How come you didn’t?”

Emma was a little flabbergasted at that and she took a moment to respond, “because I thought that’s just how he was? I thought it would get better and while he’s battered me, I’m not like permanently injured just…sore.”

Price nodded and leaned back in his chair, “I’ve seen Ghost with you,” he stated, “seen how he interacts with you in the warehouse run-throughs. He does target you,” he agreed then added, “but I’ve also seen how you’ve improved.” He nodded as Emma looked surprised. “I’ve had plenty of chances to step in but I haven’t because right when I’m about to call it, I can see you figure it out. But you hesitate, you panic and always tap your way out instead. You come so close but then you let your fear get you,” Price explained. “Is he a bit extreme? Yes, he is. But are you also benefiting and learning? Yes, you are.”

Emma felt a flash of anger at Price’s words of not intervening, that he saw how the situation was but he still let it go on. “He nearly choked me out tonight,” Emma fought back, “if Soap hadn’t pulled him off of me, I am sure I would have blacked out. He wasn’t listening to me when I tapped and he certainly wasn’t going to even give me a fighting chance. I’ve learned plenty from Gaz and he’s not holding a gun to my head while he’s training me to shoot.”

Price shook his head, “Ghost would never intentionally cause serious harm to a teammate,” he raised his eyebrows as Emma opened her mouth to argue back as if daring her to interrupt him. She quickly shut her mouth and waited. “I told him to push you. You need that one win, that one time to get him off of you and you would realize you could do it instead of falling back on your crutch of just tapping,” Price explained. “If something happens out in the field where one of us can’t get to you, do you think you’ll be able to tap out of that? That they’ll just let you go? You need to learn to fight through the fear and use your training to your advantage. I asked Ghost to train you in hand to hand because he’s the best,” Price paused, as if debating adding the next part, “and he willingly agreed. I didn’t have to ask twice or attempt to reason with him, he accepted the task instantly.”

Emma leaned back in her chair, a bit confused and overwhelmed by the revelations that Price was telling her. “I just,” she paused trying to think of what to say, “his methods are so barbaric and terrifying.” She looked at Price who merely nodded, as if to say yes that’s just how he is. “That doesn’t explain why he’s been acting the way he has toward Soap. I thought they were going to tear one another apart in there.”

“Ah,” Price said before moving to lean on the desk again. “That’s another issue entirely,” he looked at Emma, locking his eyes with her. “I can’t tell you everything, it’s not my place, but what I can say is Ghost doesn’t like when Johnny’s distracted.” He clasped his hands together and pointed both index fingers at Emma, “and you are currently a distraction.” His words weren’t accusatory, just a simple fact that needed to be laid out there and to Emma’s surprise he didn’t sound mad either.

“What, ah, I don’t know…” Emma spluttered not sure how she should respond to that. Should she apologize for being a distraction? Offer to not be one anymore? She wasn’t sure she could do that last one because giving up Soap wasn’t an option for her.

“I’m not asking you for a solution,” Price stated. “I’ve set Soap with the task of figuring it out himself. He has been distracted as of late, which caused him to get hurt. He needs to be able to separate his personal from work and not let either creep in on one another. I’ve also told Ghost to mind his own and to keep his thoughts on handling the matter to himself. He may be Lieutenant but I’m Captain and I have the final say” Price explained. “I don’t care what any of you do on your own personal time,” he continued, “but all of it stays out of work. If Soap, or you, cannot handle that then we’ll have to escalate to different measures. But, right now, I don’t want to push it, there are other things going on that require my attention to really care about interpersonal relations.” He smirked and rubbed his hands together leaning back in his chair again. “I would just suggest being a bit more…discreet. Ghost jammed the comm channel when he figured out what was going on, made a whole mess for communications for a bit but if someone on the base would have heard it would have been a much bigger issue for all of us.”

Emma flushed, the blush creeping all the way up her neck to her cheeks and ears, which were starting to ring a bit from the embarrassment. “Yes sir,” she mumbled, her eyes looking anywhere but his face, unable to take the knowing look he was giving her. “I…thanks,” she tacked on, “for all of it. For explaining Ghost and for not kicking me out because of mine and Soap’s…” she trailed off not sure what to call it.

“If I kicked people off my team for every little indiscretion, I wouldn’t have a team left, including myself,” Price answered and actually chuckled at Emma’s face for his boldness. “We aren’t celibates, we’re all adults here,” he tacked on, “you just need to make sure you keep it inconspicuous. Fraternization is not exactly allowed but we can skirt around it a bit due to the nature of our task force being a bit outside of the military rules. Just…don’t flaunt it is all I ask. If no one asks questions we don’t have to provide answers.”

Emma nodded, “right,” she said and watched as Price pulled a file out of his draw and dropped it on the desk between them.

“Now that’s out of the way, we’ve got a job to do,” he explained and flipped open the folder and turned it to face Emma. “Strictly intel gathering, easy first mission for you” he pointed to the listing of operatives and she was on there. Her name and her old nickname in quotations was fourth down on the list. “Ghost dug up your old nickname so when we’re out in the field you’re Sleeper. I avoid actual names if I can,” Price explained, “especially for civilians.”

“Right, okay,” Emma answered and moved to take the file and Price gestured for her to go ahead and retrieve it. “We leave tomorrow?” She asked as she read through the itinerary, “to Ukraine?” She looked up at that, as far as she was aware there were no ill wishes between Ukraine and the allies.

“Russian activity in Kyiv,” Price replied, “Laswell wants us in there to check it out. There are a few marks we are to follow and monitor. It’ll be all of us going this time, even Alex. This can’t wait any longer,” he said noticing how Emma pulled a face mention Alex would be there. “He’ll be in the safehouse working as the point of contact. We all have different jobs and places to be,” Price finished. “Plus, you’ll be there to watch him anyway, that is why we brought you on.”

Emma nodded as she flipped more pages looking at pictures of the marks and any information that they had on them. Habits, where they tended to hang out, associates, suspected activity, and known activity. “I’ll have to let the hospital know,” Emma stated as she looked up but Price just shook his head at her.

“Already taken care of. They knew the arrangement when they agreed to the contract, you could be called away at any moment, they have backup staff in place,” he explained before standing up from his seat. “Transport leaves at zero seven hundred. I suggest you go pack and get some sleep, it’s a long flight when you’re on a cargo plane,” he finished as a way of excusing her.

Emma rose from her chair and left the office, her newest file tucked under her arm. Her brain was fully fried, going from euphoria that morning, to confusion, anger, fear, humiliation, terror and now nervous anticipation had worn her out. She needed to find Soap and see how he was doing, how he felt after everything that had happened between the two of them then between him and Ghost. Just because Price seemed alright with the situation between her and Soap, she wasn’t sure Soap was going to feel the same. She knew his job was the most important thing to him and she was afraid he may agree she was too much of a distraction for him and too much of a risk; especially if it was causing strife.

“Soap?” Emma called quietly as she knocked lightly on his door. The light was off but she decided to try knocking anyway. Peering down the hall she saw Ghost’s light was off as well. When there was no response, she tried knocking lightly again just to be sure when Crane appeared in the hall.

“He’s out. Never came back after their little meeting with Price,” Crane said simply as he tossed some popcorn in his mouth, “both of them actually,” he added, nodding to Ghost’s door. “Probably figuring out whatever the hell that was during training,” Crane paused and looked at Emma who had just sighed. “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’ve butted heads before and fought, this was a little more intense but it’s not new.” He shrugged before turning back toward the common area, “we’re putting on a movie if you want to join. Little night before bonding time or some shit, Gaz’s idea.”

“I need to pack and go over my file,” Emma answered, shaking the folder a bit to show it, “maybe next time.” As much as she would have liked the distraction of a movie, she had things to read and items to pack before attempting to get some sleep. Mostly though she wanted to talk to Soap but she wasn’t about to go stalking about the base to go find him. There would be time to talk tomorrow, hopefully, before they were thrown into whatever this mission was. Or maybe he would seek her out in the middle of the night when he got back like last time. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Emma said after a beat of silence that had drawn on a little too long between them.

“Sure,” Crane said as he watched her a second longer then turned heel back toward the television where Gaz and Alex were currently sitting.

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #soap fanfic #call of duty #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

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katsushika-division · 8 months

Text

— Random Street, Middle Of The Division, Katsushika Division —

“Goddammit! Do we have to fucking do this? It's not our damn problem! Let them run wild!”

“Orders are orders Rintaro.”

“I fucking get that but aren't there shitty teams trained for this shit?”

“Chuohku wouldn't waste their resources when it would be easier to send us.”

“Bitches.”

“Hisa-chan! Rin-chan!”

“Hm?”

“What?”

“They're here!”

...

…

...

20 Minutes Earlier…

— Death Row Block Residence, Near Outskirts, Katsushika Division —

[The members of Death Row Block were gathered around in the living room. Akihisa was sitting in a recliner reading a novel while Touya and Rintaro sat on the couch watching an anime on the TV. It had been a quiet day for them so far. Perhaps a bit too quiet...]

Rintaro: So do we have anything fucking planned for today? Or are we just doing fuck nothing?

Touya: What do you mean? What’s today?

Rintaro: It's our team anniversary you dipshit! Ya know when we formed our division?

Touya: Riiin-chaaan quit being mean to me~!

Akihisa: Stop fighting you two. Now, to answer your question Rintaro, I'm making a special dinner for the event.

[All three men quickly turn their heads as they hear the door being opened, revealing Akari with a serious expression on her face.]

Akari: Turn on the news now.

Rintaro: Akari?!

Akari: Don't you guys know? It's a shitshow out there!

[Rintaro, grabbing the remote, quickly turned the TV to the local news station. To their surprise, the Katsushika Maximum Correctional Facility was being broadcast on the channel. However, the biggest shock was that it seemed to be on fire when a chunk of the building's wall was blown off. Waves of prisoners are seen escaping from the building. The screen then changes to Deputy Prime Minister of Japan, Ichijiku Kadenokoji.]

Ichijiku: Citizens of Tokyo! The Katsushika Maximum Correctional Facility has been attacked! The guards have been incapacitated, and nearly all the prisoners have escaped. Citizens are ordered to remain locked in their homes. I repeat citizens are ordered to remain locked in their homes!

Rintaro: What the fuck?! Where was this for us? Also, who the hell stole my shtick? Blowing shit up is my thing!

Akihisa: Rintaro, be quiet! I'm trying to listen!

Ichijiku: Akihisa Mashiro! Touya Kisaragi! Rintaro Himura! By the direct orders of Lady Otome Tohoten, you are ordered to apprehend all the escaped prisoners! Report to the center of your division now!

Touya: Did I hear that right, or is my mind messing with me again?

Rintaro: Nope I fucking heard it too. Goddamn some of the worst criminals are loose on the street, and they want us to catch them? Fucking hell.

Akihisa: You two get ready, we leave in 5 minutes. We don't need Kadenokoji to get angry enough to set off the bombs.

...

…

...

20 Minutes Later…

— Random Street, Middle Of The Division, Katsushika Division —

[Akihisa, Touya, and Rintaro stood in the middle of a random street as the city of Katsushika descended into madness and were unfazed by the chaos around them as they watched several people run past them in fear. They could see from far in the distance the light from several fires. Above them several helicopters circled in the sky.]

Rintaro: I haven't seen anarchy like this since I blew up Aoyama. So have they mentioned what the fuck happened?

Akihisa: From what I was told, it was an inside job that went completely off the rails. Only a certain few criminals were meant to escape.

Rintaro: But someone fucked up and nearly all the prison is out free causing a riot out on the streets. Now Chuohku wants us to clean this shit up.

Touya: I hope Dr. Minazuki is alright. She was always nice to me.

Rintaro: I hope that asshole Serizawa got beat. Fucking bastard.

Akihisa: Alright, you two quit playing around and pay attention. Chuohku managed to close all the exits, leaving Katsushika before any of the prisoners managed to spill over to the other divisions. Now, the prisoners are being forced to the center of the Katsushika to our current location. Our mission is to knock them out for them to be captured.

Rintaro: You say that as if it's going to be fucking easy old man. That's a few thousand prisoners.

Touya: *counts with fingers* That's a lot.

Akihisa: *shrugs shoulder* Perhaps for you two but I’ve faced worse during my hitman days. My advice is don't get overrun so quickly.

Rintaro: Fuck you, Old Man. That helps with shit.

Akihisa: There isn't much advice I can give for the situation Rintaro. We’re being thrown into the flames right now.

Rintaro: Don't tell me shit about fire Old Man! I know fire-

Touya: Hisa-chan! Rin-chan!

Akihisa: Hm?

Rintaro: What?

[Without answering, the deranged serial killer simply pointed in front of him, causing the other two to look at what he was pointing at. In front of the three men were a large number of prisoners, all prime and ready to attack. The men simply looked at the group for a few seconds before sliding into a fighting stance.]

Akihisa: Are you two ready?

Touya: Ready~!

Rintaro: Let's just get this fucking over with.

[All three men take out their mics and activate them. Their speakers rising behind them.]

Bring The Beat!

[Death Row Block:]

Ramming through this car chase, give me the mic

This is my way, I dive into danger

You’re my obstacle, get out of the way

We are Death Row Block, ramming straight through

Ramming through this car chase, give me the mic

This is my way, I dive into danger

You’re my obstacle, get out of the way

We are Death Row Block, ramming straight through

[Akihisa:]

A maestro of death appears

Perfecting my craft for years

Even from here

I can feel your fear

Tell me who lives? Who dies?

Will anyone mourn your demise?

Only God can answer that

Now, enough with the chit-chat

You were foolish to be brave

So lie in your grave

And wait for a hellish upheaval

Made by this trinity of evil

When we step on the battlefield

Your fate will soon be revealed

This is your epilogue

Perfect for a worthless dog

[Death Row Block:]

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

[Rintaro:]

Chemicals fill the air

Anarchy incoming beware

But hey, now don't combust

How about some angel dust

Welcome to ground zero

No place to be a hero

But consider it an honor

Katsushika’s very own mad bomber

Gracing you all with a verse

Spitting curse after curse

Hotter than hell, a scorching fire

A pyromaniac's unleashed desire

Going wild on a spree

Demons have nothing on me

Ignis runs this stage

Burning it in a rage

[Death Row Block:]

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

[Touya:]

Why you goddamn prick

Happy I sucked your little stick

Falling for my trick

Thinking I was another chick

Lips finishing you off with a pop

Drinking every last drop

You say I'm scum?

Funny, I just made you come

One person’s cheeky minx

Is another’s deadly jinx

Just ask a certain bird

I’ll get the last word

A desire to tear you apart

Revenge for my broken heart

“I love you?” What a lie

Just go fucking die

[Death Row Block:]

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

We’re not holding back, come on!

Well crush you, come on!

Now shut your trap

Katsushika Style

The flow of Katsushika is the strongest argument

It’s more intense than you could ever think

A one-hit K.O, Katsushika showcase

Hey! We’ll wipe you out without a trace

The flow of Katsushika is the strongest argument

It’s more intense than you could ever think

A one-hit K.O, Katsushika showcase

Hey! We’ll wipe you out without a trace

The flow of Katsushika is the strongest argument

It’s more intense than you could ever think

A one-hit K.O, Katsushika showcase

Hey! We’ll wipe you out without a trace

The flow of Katsushika is the strongest argument

It’s more intense than you could ever think

A one-hit K.O, Katsushika showcase

Hey! We’ll wipe you out without a trace

Happy Anniversary Death Row Block!

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #katsushika division #death row block #akihisa mashiro #touya kisaragi #rintaro himura #katsushika style ~don't make us laugh~#death row block 1st anniversary

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olderthannetfic · 2 years

Note

I wanted to ask your followers and your opinion on something. I block liberally because I'd like to avoid starting shit on my blog. I have a couple piece of art (and other posts) that get notes despite how old they are. Some stuff like an old still popular ship and general fandom humor. But some stuff is cute art. Cute shit that anti's like to flock too. It sucks bc I adore cute things (I also adore cute thing + dark/problematic themes) and pastel colors. And this interest is really important to me because I spent a majority of my youth rejecting "girly" things bc surprise surprise it turns out I'm trans (NB) and was desperately trying to distance myself from being associated as a girl. It took years of work to allow myself to enjoy "girly" things without feeling guilty or like I was lying to myself. Anti's will have to pry my love for cute shit and pastels from my cold dead problematic fingers.

These posts don't get too many notes daily so it's relatively easy for me to do a quick search of some key words on individual blogs who interact with my work and then block on site. Sometimes however I feel a little unsure about the blocking because sometimes the only results that come up and stink of anti behavior are 3 to 6 years old. I'm left wondering if I should really block these people because none of their recent stuff sets off red flags. Like there is a possibility that they're no longer like that and just haven't bothered to purge their blog. I get that it's okay for me to set boundaries and be safe, but I also feel guilty bc if it is people who have changed/ex-anti's I don't want to contribute to the issue of isolating people that leave toxic groups. Since, like, the threat of isolation is something that's used to keep people from leaving cult-like spaces.

I understand that I'm overthinking a lot, and me blocking these people is probably not doing what I worry about. I know it's not worth my energy to worry about, therapy taught me that. It's just practicing telling your brain to cut it out is forever a journey.

But anyways, I was wondering what your guy's opinion is, especially for those who regularly block on site to avoid anti's if the only anti stuff you can find on their blog is years old. And if you don't is there a threshold? Like how recent does the anti behavior have to be for you to consider it a reason to block?

(I know you, OTNF, have mention you only block people who are a brand of asshole at you and not preemptively block like I mention, but maybe some of the people who read your stuff do? But I'd also like to hear your opinion if you want to share it/have something to add. I enjoy your responses and want to thank you for being consistently informative and interesting. That's probably worded weird lol, but yeah, thank you for taking time to read this.)

I do preemptively block people, but it's generally for seeming extremely annoying at the time I block them, usually in their tumblr header or an inflammatory comment on another anti's post. These aren't subtle people is what I'm saying.

When I block preemptively, it's less about protecting myself and more about taking pleasure in going "U Suck!" even if they never know.

I generally don't bother digging back through someone's archive unless I'm just enjoying looking at the posts. Whether they'll have changed is hard to say though. 3 years just isn't that long, but it also depends if we're talking 16-19 or 40-43.

It's not your job to help cult victims escape though. Sure, it's nice if they don't get shunned, yadda yadda, but you welcoming them to your personal tumblr is not a public service you're honor bound to provide.

Also, maybe they haven't posted any anti bullshit in 3 years, but have they posted the opposite? I see no reason they should be coddled for once holding reprehensible views and merely ceasing to be vocal about them.

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thetiredassistant · 1 year

Text

Jordyn did not take much pleasure in playing the games

At first, he had been relieved. Sure.. he was playing death games to survive, but he didn’t have to go back to his job— back home. His pay was nice but the job itself was tiring, and not to mention his boss wasn’t the easiest person to work for. So.. maybe he was a little relieve to see that he was in a different world where he didn’t have to worry about it.

But now? Now he had a means to survive. Jordyn had found his boss, at the beach. Found out that there was a possibility of going home, and if he wanted to keep his job, he needed to keep his Boss alive.

And at first, that was all it was. Doing his job here and also keeping him alive, and he’d keep his job back in the other world. And Jordyn would not risk losing that Job. Even if he had been relieved to not have to work when he first came here. It was supposed to be simple. Orión was an asshole, a prick who promised empty promises to stupid militants— a selfish man who teased him and then fucked off to do every possible drug he could. And then.

Then Jordyn got to know Orión

So maybe, just protecting his job stopped being the reason for doing everything he could to make sure the both of them survived— and maybe a little bit came from the fact that he wanted to keep him safe. So in order to keep Orión safe, he had to keep himself alive. And in order to keep himself alive, he would do anything necessary.

He should’ve known it would’ve been a rough game, by the look of the run down building he was walking into. It was him, and two other beach members. One of them— a Girl, Yasuka, if he remembered correctly. She seemed new, and utterly terrified. “How many games have you played so far?” He asked gently, as they walked up the rickety steps. Yasuka looked up at him, surprised he was speaking to her but she shrugged “My uh.. third. I found the beach just a few days ago, and my VISA is almost up.” Jordyn just nodded, and they finally found the room. Stepping in, the three beach members nothing that there were 9 others there.

Collapse. That was the game. Six of Spades. There was really only one rule, and that was to escape the building. As soon as the information was given, and the TV shut off— the building started to shake. Jordyn glanced around, and his eyes widened “The building is starting to collapse! Get out!” He yelled. Taking a. Step back, he turned and ran to the door they just entered from, the stairway. But it was locked. Shit!

Immediately, from down the hall someone yelled out that there was a stairway. His eyes flickered and noticed that Yasuka was panicking, and not moving. “Come on!” Jordyn yells out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along to the stairway.

The building was getting worse. Holes were forming in the floor, cracks along the building and light fixtures falling and almost smashing. They had to abandon the stairway at some point, as some concrete had blocked the way— and resorted to maneuvering their way down the holes in the floor. He kept near Yasuka, making sure she was able to get down from each floor. “You good?” He asked, and she nodded.

They were almost there. One more floor and they could get to the exit. He turned, looking for the spot that he could jump down safely, hoping that Yasuka was following right after him. Jogging up and kneeling down as he found a hole, his eyes scanned below. A desk, one he could jump down safely and not break any bones. He stood back up, and was about to call out for the others before he heard a crash, and a cry of pain.

Turning around, Jordyn’s eyes fell on Yasuka. Rubble from the ceiling had falling onto her, crushing most of her lower half. “Help!” She cried out, tears streaming from her face as the pain was too much to bear. Jordyn took a step forward, about to help her before another piece of rubble fell from the ceiling and almost hit him. He stumbled back, and his eyes met Yasuka. She tried reaching out to him, and all Jordyn did was stare back.

He should save her. She obviously had looked to him for safety, because he had helped her before. But it had been too long. The building was falling apart, and Jordyn didn’t think it would be much longer before it entirely fell. Beside, even if the two did survive after the building collapsed, with them in it— Lasers would come down. It was either he risked his life to help the girl, who was probably fucked anyway— or he could leave. Her legs were crushed, and he didn’t think she would be able to play anymore games

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. He would feel guilt later, worry about it during one of his many sleepless nights in his room. But instead of helping her, he went back to the hole and jumped down onto the desk. The building shook as he did so, and Jordyn stumbled off the desk— and fell on his shoulder. “Shit!” He hissed out, scrambling up and holding his bicep. Seeing the door, as another one of the players escaped— Jordyn just glanced back up. Fuck. He shook his head and headed out the door.

He had survived. His shoulder hurt like hell, and his clothes were a little fucked but he was here. Jordyn was here, and with 6 days more on his VISA. Sighing softly, he pulled his hair out of his ponytail and headed back to the car.

As they drove up, he rested his cheek on his fist, staring as the buildings sped by them. This was the first time he ever had to consciously let someone die, and he knew that the longer he stayed in this world.. it wouldn’t be the last.

#weeklyprompt005 #aib rp #alice in borderland rp

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carmenlire · 1 year

Text

Enough to Be Loved

read on ao3

Huijae enters the code to their apartment, drinking the last of the water he’d brought with him to the gym. He’s found a new appreciation for being out lately– working out at the gym, going for long walks in the morning, finally living.

It’s nice, he finds. He has a part time job at a bakery around the block and that’s helped him move on from things as well. He enjoys the calmness of the bakery, the ritual of mixing cookie dough and rolling out puff pastry.

He’s healing. His family is healing.

Opening the door, Huijae hears the television from the entryway. He toes off his shoes, drops his bag down in the foyer, too– his arms feel like jello and he doesn’t want to lug it all the way to his room right now.

Rounding the corner into the living room, Huijae sees that his brother is in the middle of watching a movie with one of his friends. Geonhu has become a staple in their house over the past few months and so it’s not the presence of Sunjae’s friend that makes Huijae raise a very subtle brow.

No, instead it’s the way his brother and his friend are sitting. Huijae stands at the edge of the living room, hardly daring to breathe lest the two realize that they’re not alone anymore. Though with the volume of the television, Huijae reflects wryly, a bomb could probably detonate behind them and they wouldn’t notice.

Sunjae relaxes back against the couch, arm across the back. Geonhu is sitting so close to his little brother that Huijae can’t see a sliver of couch between them. Huddled under Sunjae’s arm and looking just as relaxed and carefree, Geonhu’s focus is totally on the television in front of them.

Or at least that’s what Huijae thought, but he’s proven wrong when– without looking away from the action scene on the screen– Geonhu reaches up and intertwines his hand with Sunjae’s, tugging it down while lacing their fingers together so that Sunjae’s arm is now resting over Geonhu’s shoulders properly.

Geonhu cuddles closer and Huijae feels something light and sharp pinch beneath his breastbone at the way Geonhu brings Sunjae’s hand closer still, until he gently runs the back of the hands along his jaw.

The pinch becomes a little more insistent when he sees the way his brother is no longer watching whatever’s on the television. No, instead Huijae’s filled with a mix of fondness and joy at the way his little brother now seems so totally absorbed in watching Geonhu instead. Standing far enough back to not be visible while still being able to see the scene play out in front of him, Huijae thinks that he’s never seen Sunjae look so happy and calm ever.

Huijae finds that there’s no shock and barely any surprise. He’d never heard his brother talk seriously about anyone– and all of a sudden, Huijae remembers when Geonhu first started coming around.

Sunjae was annoyed at another guy showing up and disrupting his relationship with Hae-e. Huijae remembers that in between all the drama of those days, he overheard Sunjae talking to himself while he made breakfast one morning. It was all can you believe the nerve of this guy? He thinks he’s got it all, doesn’t he and I mean he is decent. I’ll never admit it but he is funny and smart when he applies himself. And when he punched that asshole that was talking shit about Hae-e? That was so cool.

There was a point in the conversation where Huijae finally just walked in, stomach growling and tired of waiting for Sunjae to wind down just for his brother to turn to him and ask, outraged, "I mean who wouldn’t want to be with Geonhu? Can you believe this, hyung, this guy told our entire class that he wants to go out with Hae-e. How do you even compete with that?"

At the time, Huijae just thought that it was the typical case of two guys wanting a girl’s attention. But in an instant, everything’s snapped into place and he feels both annoyed and amused that his little brother had so obviously been crushing on Geonhu this entire time.

And now, Huijae clocks the way his little brother is staring at Geonhu’s profile, mesmerized by his– boyfriend’s?-- face.

It’s not only Huijae who startles a bit at the teasing voice that speaks over the movie. “You know you just missed the most important scene, right? I mean I know I’m handsome, but surely I’m not that distracting, Sunjae-ah.”

Sunjae’s eyes widen a little at being caught but he doesn’t shy away from Geonhu’s teasing. Instead, he engages and it feels like an entirely new side of his little brother that Huijae’s privileged enough to witness– a side that doesn’t seem to carry the weight of the world or parental expectation, a side that seems like a twenty one year old boy who likes someone and is having fun with it.

It’s everything Huijae’s ever wanted for Sunjae.

Sunjae just leans close and maybe he says something in response but Huijae can’t hear it over the volume of the television. Instead, he sees the way Geonhu’s ears turn red, fairly glowing in the afternoon light of the apartment, and he decides that it’s time to make his presence known.

Huijae takes a few steps, entering the living room fully. He’s frankly impressed with the speed in which the two of them spring apart. Geonhu reaches for the remote, turning the volume down and, by far, looks much less guilty than Sunjae.

His little brother, Huijae sees, is busy looking at everything except the other two people in the room. His entire face is almost glowing it’s so warm and Huijae is endeared and incredulous that Sunjae is doing such a piss-poor job at appearing nonchalant.

“Hey, hyung,” Sunjae greets and Huijae will give him credit– he only stumbled over both syllables.

Huijae sees the way his brother’s hand twitches, no doubt an aborted effort to reach out to Geonhu’s hand that lays just millimeters away.

Geonhu, for his part, just throws out his usual nod towards Huijae, lips so clearly fighting a smile. Whether at his disaster of a boyfriend or at the situation, Huijae doesn’t know.

Huijae lifts a brow and thinks about how he wants to go about this. He could be the teasing big brother or the intimidating, protective one that gives a thinly-veiled shovel talk. He could pretend to be completely oblivious to what is happening right in front of him.

Deciding that he really just wants this over with– he needs a shower and he can feel his post-workout hunger steadily rising, Huijae just smiles.

His smiles these days are definitely more frequent for all that they’re still carefully contained. He doesn’t grin so much as let the corner of his mouth tilt up in good humor.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Huijae says as he continues walking towards their bathroom. “I just got back from the gym and need to get a shower before ordering dinner.”

“Do you want us to order something, hyung,” Sunjae asks and something in Huijae’s heart blooms at the care his brother always, without fail, shows towards him.

Pausing on the edge between the living room and the short hallway where their bedrooms and bathroom are located, Huijae looks back. He raises a brow. “What were you thinking?”

It’s Geonhu who answers. “We were just talking about grabbing some chicken and beer when the movie’s over?”

Huijae nods, lets his smile curve just a little more. “Sounds good. I like the spicy mix.”

Geonhu grumbles and, without seeming to realize it, lets his hand knock against Sunjae’s before resting there. “You and your brother are both trying to kill me. I see how it is.”

Sunjae laughs, turning towards Geonhu. “Jagi–” he cuts off abruptly, shooting a panicked look at Huijae.

Huijae’s expression doesn’t shift, though there’s a part of him that’s pleased that his brother evidently feels comfortable enough with him to almost let something slip.

Clearing his throat, Sunjae looks back over to Geonhu. “Most people like spice, Geonhu-ah. Just because you’re a baby about it–”

“A baby,” Geonhu repeats incredulously. His eyes narrow to slits. “I’ll show you–”

Watching the chaos before him, Huijae shakes his head. Raising his voice over them, he announces, “I’m taking a shower. Thanks for ordering the food,” and promptly turns on his heel and disappears into the bathroom.

He definitely does not hear his little brother say, “My baby,” right before the door shuts.

---

The evening sun is just starting to drop over Seoul when the food arrives. Huijae, of course, ends up paying for the food as the hyung and as he turns back to take the bags to the dining table, he’s a little surprised to see Geonhu at their silverware drawer, clearly familiar with the space.

As he sets the food down, Huijae watches as his little brother and Geonhu navigate around each other in the kitchen, Sunjae grabbing plates, before the two of them set the table together.

It’s another piece of the puzzle, the obvious-in-hindsight realization that the two of them are so close. Huijae wonders just how much time the two of them spend in this space, alone– when he’s at work or on one of his long walks, when their mother is traveling in another country trying to find her humanity again. It’s a relief to know that Sunjae and Geonhu have this space, that they might just be carving homes into each other.

The beer is open and the chicken plated, when Sunjae clears his throat. Huijae looks up from where he’d just set his bottle down after taking a quick first sip.

The atmosphere is suddenly tense and Huijae doesn’t know if it’s the expectant silence or the way the two boys in front of him suddenly seem like livewires of nerves. Geonhu has a small smile on his face– Huijae wonders if his dongsaeng doesn’t always carry a smile. It's obvious in this case that it's something that’s both a challenge and a preemptive defense.

“Hyung,” Sunjae breaks off, looking studiously down at the table and suddenly Huijae thinks he knows where this is headed.

There’s a part of him that wonders if he shouldn’t just acknowledge it first, beat Sunjae to it so that they can go back to the relaxed, lighthearted scene from just moments before. He wants to curtail any uncertainty or anxiety that Sunjae might be feeling before it even has a chance to land. He never could stand to see his little brother unhappy or sad but–

Well, he thinks that maybe this is just something both of them have to go through, that maybe Sunjae needs to be the one to bring it up, the one to say the words first.

It’s difficult to stay silent, to let Sunjae struggle even if it will only be for a few moments.

Maybe they’re both growing, Huijae thinks.

Huijae is careful not to let his face betray anything, keeping it carefully expressionless. He does let a small smile cross his face as Geonhu carefully– deliberately– reaches out and lays his hand over Sunjae’s, squeezing slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Sunjae flips his hand over so that he can intertwine his fingers with Geonhu’s. Tension noticeably drains out of him at the gesture.

“Hyung,” Sunjae starts again, and this time his voice is soft with a steel undercurrent. It’s the voice he used when he admitted to cheating last year, the tone he slips into whenever all he has to fall back on is sheer courage and strength of character.

Huijae stays silent while at the same time, trying to radiant pure openness. He always thought it was such a silly concept, trying to lift a mood without words but now finds himself wishing he possessed a presence that innately put people at ease. He never wants Sunjae to be uncomfortable to share anything with him, good or bad or anything in between.

He knows he dropped the ball on that more often than not after he dropped out of school. He knows he’ll spend the foreseeable future making amends. It’s a thought that brings with it a certain reassurance– he has the time to do so.

Sunjae looks up, hand still holding Geonhu’s tightly, as thought all of his determination might dissolve if he lets go for an instant. He meets Huijae’s eyes and Huijae is, for the hundredth time, impressed at the man his little brother is becoming.

“I have something to tell you, hyung,” Sunjae starts. “You’re important to me and I want you to know. I want you to know that–” and here, he breaks off, courage faltering.

Huijae leans forward a little, trying to look welcoming while he knows his concern has to be bleeding into his posture. “You’re important to me too, Sunjae-ah,” he says quietly.

He takes a chance here. Huijae reaches out and covers Sunjae’s free hand, the one his little brother had laid on the dining table. He feels the tremble in his brother’s hands and pats it, twice, both a comfort and an invitation.

Taking one last breath, Sunjae continues, “I’m bisexual.”

As soon as the words fall between them, Sunjae’s shoulders lose much of their tension. It’s one part relief, one part inevitability, Huijae thinks.

Words have power. Once they’re said, all that’s ever left is to deal with the fallout.

Huijae can’t help it. He starts smiling and it spreads over his face until it's a wide grin. He’s just so proud to see his brother be so brave– to have the courage to be himself and be defiant with it. It warms his heart to acknowledge that he is a trusted person in Sunjae’s life; someone who is privileged enough to be let in.

He’s just opening his mouth to respond when it becomes clear that Sunjae isn’t quite done. Taking the hint that there’s more his little brother wants to say, Huijae settles back down though the smile doesn’t falter in the slightest.

It’s at this point that Sunjae moves his hand out from underneath his, instead using his now free hand to cover Geonhu’s, moving their hands right in front of Huijae.

Huijae chances a look over at Geonhu, who’s not paying him the slightest bit of attention. No, instead he is totally focused on Sunjae, eyes warm and smile curved into something softer, more genuine than it had been at the onset of dinner.

“I’m dating Geonhu. I’m in love with him,” Sunjae says this last part softly, and only now does his shyness peak through.

Geonhu looks across the table at Huijae. Instead of the challenge from earlier, Huijae can only see the same shy happiness on his face. “And I’m in love with him,” Geonhu says boldly, tone full of warm pride.

Even though he’s had all afternoon to think about it, Huijae still takes a moment to collect his thoughts. The smile doesn’t leave his face, though, and he hopes that serves as enough reassurance in itself.

He knows he only has one chance at this and that while Sunjae’s family is small, he is undoubtedly the first member he has told. He’s determined to set a glowing precedent.

“Thank you for telling me, Sunjae-ah,” he starts. “You two were probably deafened from the TV earlier but I saw a little bit of you, before you knew I was there. It was pretty obvious,” he teases and is endeared as his little brother and his boyfriend both blush. “I know that you were nervous to tell me and I don’t pretend to not know why. But I’m proud of you for telling me and for being yourself. I’m also very happy that you trust me enough to be honest.”

It’s here that Huijae feels tears burn just a touch. “I love you, Sunjae-ah, and I support you. I’m very proud of the person you are and that will never change. I’ll always be your big brother.”

Feeling that he’s said his piece, Huijae nods once, as though to make sure that Sunjae knows that he’s meant what he said, that every words rings with a promise.

The quiet scene in the apartment is shattered as Sunjae lets out an aborted sob. And while Huijae is sure it’s half in sheer relief, he thinks that maybe the other half could be that while the words Huijae said have always been stitched onto his heart– ever since his mom placed a newborn into arms when he was just a toddler himself– it isn’t very often that Huijae vocalizes them.

Words have power, Huijae realizes anew.

Sunjae suddenly stands up, rounding the dining table just to pull Huijae out of his seat.

As soon as he’s standing, Sunjae is wrapping him up in a hug that threatens to crack his ribs. It’s strangely comforting, the uncompromising strength in the gesture.

“Thank you, hyung,” Sunjae chokes out. “I love you, too.”

Huijae’s voice is gruff as he squeezes his little brother, patting his back probably a little too hard. “You don’t need to ever thank me for this, Sunjae-ah.”

It’s quiet in the apartment as the two of them hug tightly for a few more minutes. Even then, Huijae is reasonably sure that the only reason they break apart after all is because his stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

It serves to dispel any remaining tension and the three of them laugh. Geonhu’s expression is even more carefree than it usually is and once Huijae and Sunjae wipe their eyes, the apartment feels so light that Huijae wonders if he shouldn’t see pure sunshine outside instead of impending twilight of evening.

Dinner is a comfortable affair, the three of them talking easily– more easily than Huijae might’ve assumed. It’s refreshing, galvanizing. While Huijae and Geonhu have always been polite and welcoming, it’s only now– that he allows himself too? That this final truth lays between them– that Huijae finds himself in such good company.

He discovers a shared hobby with Geonhu– French poetry, of all things– and is surprised but pleased when Geonhu has him add his kakao name to his phone and they set up a date to go to this tiny bookstore in Gangnam that specializes in French literature.

After dinner, Sunjae offers for the three of them to start another movie but Huijae declines. He’s sure that the two of them want a little time to themselves and he knows that, for his part, he could definitely do with some alone time.

This is the longest he’s spent fully engaged with people– not just baking with occasional stints at the cash register– since his school days, probably. That combined with the emotional conversation has Huijae feeling absolutely exhausted.

Closing the dishwasher, Huijae swallows the last bit of beer in his bottle before tossing it in the recycling bin.

Hearing chaos behind him, he turns around and sees Huijae and Gueonhu– wrestling? It takes just a moment to realize that Geonhu is trying to tickle Sunjae, who is desperately trying to wiggle away and stop his boyfriend’s antics.

In that effort, Sunjae darts forward, quick as a flash, to plant a smacking kiss on Geonhu’s mouth. The move works well for Geonhu freezes for a quick moment, something warm and pleased shifting over his face and Sunjae is able to back away and throw himself onto the couch, landing with limbs sprawled out.

Deciding that’s his cue to leave the kids alone, Huijae calls out a quick, “Goodnight,” as he turns toward his bedroom.

His little brother and his boyfriend echo his goodnight and just before he exits the kitchen, Huijae sees Geonhu drop down on top of Sunjae on the couch, Sunjae groaning at the impact while Geonhu snickers.

Still, the two of them settle down quickly as the movie starts, something considerably less action-packed than earlier today.

The last thing Huijae sees is his little brother kissing the top of Geonhu’s head where it rests on his chest, Geonhu melting into his brother, the two of them completely relaxed and already in their own little world.

They look comfortable, Huijae thinks as he opens his bedroom door. They look settled, content.

It’s enough for his brother to have found a love like that, Huijae knows. He can’t help but think, though, that he might like something like that for himself, one day. Maybe. If he’s lucky.

#this ended up being completely different to the little thing i wrote a few days ago lol #this was so much fun to write! I love geonhu and sunjae so much!!#and i really like huijae too i think he's an interesting character and a good guy #and i enjoyed the little peaks we got at his being a big brother to sunjae #idk who will read this but i hope if anyone else is suffering from #geonhu/sunjae brainrot that this helps :)#crash course in romance #ccir #lee sunjae x seo geonhu #lee sunjae #seo geonhu #ccir fic #my writing #enough to be loved #yes that is a lyric from people pt 2!!! d-day comes out in 3 hours!!!

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casspurrjoybell-26 · 1 year

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The Contract - Chapter 10

*Warning Adult Content*

"This is you," Donovan announces when the car stops.

I look out the window and see it's my new apartment building, so I grab my bag filled with gym stuff I got for free from the staff at Donovan's gym.

"Thanks for the ride," I rub my neck. "And uh, for the clothes."

Donovan doesn't say anything but types away on his phone, not bothering to look up at me as I open the passenger side and get out.

Before I close the door, Donovan captures me in his eyes as he looks at me and puts his phone down.

"I'll be away next week on business, so feel free to text if you ever miss me."

I scoff out loud at his arrogance, surprising the driver as he jumps in his seat because I slammed the door shut with force, swearing incoherent words under my breath as I walk towards the building.

Fucking bastard, saying that shit to me, who does he think he is?

After what he just did to me at the gym.

I turn around and see a glimpse of his hooded face in the dark car as the driver pulls out from the curb and drives off down the road.

I storm into the building, trying to not think about the asshole that just treated me like a freaking princess and focus on getting to my apartment so I can have a nice hot shower and wash away everything embarrassing that just happened today.

A full week of not seeing him...

It's been three days since I met him and since then, it feels like I've known him for years, despite knowing nothing about him.

There were things I picked up though, like how controlling he is, how addicted he is to his phone and how he loved seeing people squirm under his stare but there are other things like when he smiles, he has a dimple in his cheek, even though it's rare when he does smile, it's like this whole air around him shifts.

He's not as intimidating when he smiles, and laughs, it's interesting to see I guess.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I unlock my door and shut it behind me.

Turning my phone on, I see it's a text from the man himself.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: Audition tomorrow, 9:20 AM at HQ.

I snort out and text back once I drop my bag near the door.

Me: What happened to Natalie? I thought she was my agent, not you.

He texts back a minute later and I roll my eyes at how smug he is.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: I'm the boss. I do what I want.

I laugh and then put my phone back in my pocket.

Yeah, no shit sherlock, it seems like he does whatever he wants and everyone knows it, it's not like it's not noticeable with the way he carries himself like he owns the world and we all worship him for it.

I scoff, I'm not some bimbo desperate for his attention, there will be no worshiping him, ever.

What we have together is purely physical and I can end it whenever I want, I wonder how many people would kill for the opportunity to be with Donovan Steele.

Things like that make ME feel powerful, like everyone worships me, and not him.

I strip off my clothes and head straight for the shower, counting down the seconds until that hot water hits my body, only then can I finally relax and block out everything.

Six days later.

I'm so fucking tired, my legs are aching and my arms feel beaten.

"Evan you did a well today, good job., my trainer Rob says, slapping me on the back. "Same time next weekend?"

I shake my head and pick up my gym bag.

"Sorry, I can't," I say, sighing. "I'll be on set, filming for the TV show I got a part in." I tell him.

He whistles out impressed.

"Congratulations mate," he says, bringing me in for a bro hug. "Look at you getting all famous and shit, almost makes me want to cry."

He fake wipes a tear.

I shove him off me.

"It's no big deal," I say, despite how excited I actually was. "I'll text you when I'm free for a workout, Mike."

Mike nods his head as I head outside of the gym and let the bright rays from the sun hit my sweaty face, as a shit-eating grin falls on my face.

I got the fucking part.

I still can't believe any of it, that they loved me and gave the part to me then and there, without a second audition.

What's better is that it's a show that everyone is obsessing over, a high school drama filled with murder and mystery and what's so good about it is that I got a leading role as the main man in the show.

I instantly liked my role, the 'bad boy' with a dark past that protects the leading high school girl from another obsessed guy but what makes this more exciting is the fact that the female lead is someone I knew.

Not only me but everyone knows who she is, she's a high-paid actress in the acting world, making this my opportunity to impress and hopefully, get more roles after the show's first episode is aired.

From what I've heard, Amanda Carsly is America's angel and has a thing for guys like me, so if all goes well, I can use that to my advantage and form connections.

It's all coming together, next week we start filming and I can barely contain how pumped up I am for it to start.

My phone rings in my pocket and I pick it up and answer it as I cross the road, not looking at the caller id.

"This is Evan," I say, jogging across the road, watching out for cars.

"Hi Evan hunnnn, it's your mommy."

I stop walking and freeze.

"I missed you, my sweet baby boy," she says, sounding completely out of it drunk.

"Mom, have you been day drinking?" I question, hissing out as her voice was clearly slurring.

"Hmmm, a little," she laughs like I said something funny as I hear people talk in the background.

I grip the bridge of my nose and sigh.

"Fucking hell..."

"I need money, Evan. Be a good boy and help me out, hmm?" she slurs her words. "You're the only one I have, baby."

I feel my blood boil and I clench my eyes closed tightly and steady my breathing at how annoyed I am right now.

"Mom, I don't have money right now,.I can't keep..."

"YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS," she screams down the phone. "Just like your bastard of a father, not giving a shit about me, selfish sons of bitches," she snapped out, slurring her words.

I hate when she's like this and if I knew it was her, I'd have never picked up the call in the first place, knowing that the only times she calls me is for a handout.

I clench my jaw and avoid the looks of people passing me on the street, some with curious stares and some from a group of young girls checking me out and giggling as they pass me.

"Tell me where you are."

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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It’s Just Me (mini blurb)

if you enjoyed this fic - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

if you like my work and can donate as i do this for free - please consider donating to my ko-fi.

———————

It was a terrible twos kind of day. The kind of day when YN can’t tote Ivy along to a charity organization brunch because she would meltdown.

Harry had her in his office with him, she was sitting on a blanket Harry had laid out, and was quietly playing with her stuffed animals (mostly seals.)

Occasionally, she would babble to herself and get pissed of at her inatimate playmates, ending in her tossing it to the side.

He caught himself just staring at her, smiling as he watches the little human he and his soulmate created right in front of him.

When his phone rings, he automatically picks it up, professionally stating, “Styles.”

“Hi, this is Dan from Payroll,” The guys voice was already shaking and Harry knew he was about to get really pissed off.

“How can I help you?” He asks in a tone that’s was definitely did not sound like he wanted to provide any assistance.

There is a pregnant pause before Dan nearly stutters, “Er, I accidentally missed reviewing the marketing departments hours and they did not receive their last paycheck.”

Harry takes a very deep breathe because he wants to do what he normally would - scream through the phone at this idiot.

However, he can’t because his curly haired little baby is playing with her toys in the middle of the office with a smile.

“Please come up to my office,” Harry replies curtly before hanging up.

He gets up, goes over to his daughter, and squats in front of her, “Ivy, baby.”

She looks up at him with a toothy grin before reaching over to hand him a stuffed seal, “Play, daddy.”

Harry thumbs over a stray curl on her forehead, “Daddy can’t, my love. I need y’to go with Granny Dor for a little.”

Ivy had been very clinging to both YN and Harry recently. She had a fit when YN dropped her off, despite how happy she was to see her dad.

Her brows furrow, lips purse, and Harry has to laugh because she looks like a carbon copy of him with the sour face.

“Oh, no mean looks t’daddy,” He hums with his own frown, “S’just for a moment, m’dove.”

“No.”

“Ivy, y’need to listen.”

And Harry knows it coming, she sucks in a huge breathe and then just lets out a scream in protest of him.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, y’do not scream. Y’know better. Are we going to have to take a timeout or are you going to go sit nice with Dor?” Harry’s voice is still softer than he’d use with any of him employees but extremely firm to her.

“No timeout, daddy,” She mumbles, her volume decreasing significantly as she lowers her gaze from her father’s.

“Alright, then c’mon. Thank you for listening,” Harry praises, gathering up her toys for her and leading her into his waiting room where Dorothy is typing away on her computer.

“Dor, Dan is coming up and I need to have a private meaning. Will y’watch her for a little?”

Ivy is already clambering up into her lap, into the warmth of her arms, and nuzzling in - because Granny Dor spoiled her silly.

Harry rolls his eyes, muttering, “And you and YN say I spoil her too much. Bloody ridiculous.”

Dorothy just shoos him away, readjusting Ivy’s bow, and combing through her hair softly to simmer her down a little.

Dan trails in solemnly soon after to face his inevitable doom.

He sees his boss’ daughter perched on the secretary’s lap and he wonders how such a sweet little thing could be created from the demon of a man.

As Harry and Dan meet, Ivy gets wriggly and squirms off of Dorothy’s lap.

“Stay close,” She murmurs to the toddler as she picks up her phone to answer a call for Harry.

Of course, Ivy doesn’t listen, and she noticed that the door to her father’s office is cracked open just the littlest bit.

It’s enough for her to slip through the space between the heavy doors and toddles on, she’s blocked by the leather couches so Harry can’t see her.

“I have givin’ you so many fuckin’ chances!” Harry seethes angrily at his employee. His tone was more like a growl than anything else.

Ivy pauses, eyes widening in fear as she hears her dad speak in a frightening manner she’s never heard before.

“I…There was a coding error that I had been distracted with, it won’t happen again,” Dan insists, knowing he had actually committed a fireable offense.

“You are absolutely correct because you’re fucking fired,” Harry replies, no wavering in his raspy register.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Dan explodes, “It’s unfucking fair treatment! It was one mistake, you fuckin’ asshole!”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I can fuckin’ show you unfair treatment. Get the fuck out of my office and learn how to do your goddamn job,” Harry retorts, his voice rising as well.

Ivy is stuck in her spot, frozen in surprise at hearing the arguing and how mad her father sounded, voice echoing through the room.

“You listen to me-“

“Get the fuck out of my office!” Harry booms furiously, this employee managing to get a rise out of him.

“I was ju-“

Both the men pause when they hear a wail from behind the sofa and the sound of Ivy plopping herself on the ground.

Harry instantly is out from behind his desk and going to round the sofa in a flash with a rose of panic in his chest.

His heart drops when he sees his baby looking up at him with fear in her watery eyes and she’s literally shaking.

“Oh, baby. Did y’hear daddy bein’ loud?” Harry murmurs in his sweetest, comforting voice - uncaring of his employee hearing him.

Harry expects her to nod sadly and ask for a cuddle but she instead wriggles backwards when he goes to reach for her - out of his reach.

“Ivy, little dove, s’just y’daddy,” He tries again, sitting down in front of her - doesn’t even look up as Dan leaves quietly.

She’s scared though and has had never felt worse in his life as his daughter backs away from him until she’s getting to her wobbly feet.

He tries again, reaching his arms out, “Ivy Elizabeth, s’just daddy. M’sorry I scared you, bub.”

Ivy doesn’t budge, crying loudly with her face pinched up as hot tears run down her soft chubby cheeks.

Dorothy appears with a worried look, “I apologize, I thought she was by the table.”

“S’not your fault I’m a shitty father,” Harry mutters, standing back up and roughly brushing off his trousers.

“Oh Harry, she’s just a little frightened,” Dorothy hums, picking the girl up when she toddles quickly over to her.

Her dad trails over, “Ivy, m’love. Can you look at daddy?”

She refuses, digging her face into the woman’s shoulder, curls bouncing fiercely as she clings onto her.

Harry loved to be feared. Not like this though. Not by the child he’d literally jump in front of a train for without a second thought.

He would rather have her screaming, pitching fits, throwing toys rather than this. She was so scared that she wouldn’t even look at him.

“Let me take her on a little stroll, okay? See if I can calm her down a bit.”

—

Harry waits patiently for Dorothy to arrive back but he automatically hears his daughter’s steady stream of sniffles and whimpers.

He goes out to the waiting room to see her reentering the room, she sighs, “I think it’s time to call mummy.”

Harry had no idea how he was going to explain this to his wife. He was I trouble and he knew he deserved it.

“Hey H, is the bab okay?” YN greets warmly, chattering in the background.

“Er, she’s okay, just upset. Ivy accidentally walked in on me flipping out and firing an employee. Now she’s scared. Dor tried to calm her down and she doesn’t want to be near me right now.”

YN’s next words were calm, Harry however did not miss the sharp edge when she replies, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Then she hangs up on him.

Which she really never does unless she is really really upset.

—

When YN arrives, Ivy is sat on Dorothy’s lap with puffy eyes and her thumb tucked between her full lips, popping it out when she sees her mother.

“Mumma!” Ivy shrieks, tears beginning streaming down her face as she impatiently waits for her to cross the room and gives her a soft kiss to the forehead.

“Hi baby, give mummy one minute and then we’ll leave okay?” YN murmurs soothingly, thumbing of some of the tears.

Ivy nods but is standing next the secretary’s desk, waiting patiently with her thumb going right back between her lips again.

Harry’s sitting at his large oak table, looking like a guilty puppy as his wife comes in with a disapproving look on her face.

“Baby, m’sorr-“

“What the fuck, Harry? Why is our daughter out there terrified right now?” YN demands, crossing her arms to prove her anger.

“Some fuckin’ idiot messed somethin’ up and Ivy walked in while I cursed him out and fired him. She was hiding behind the couch. It was an accident,” He defends, bristling a bit.

“Even if the door was shut, she would have still heard you. You knew better than to act like that around our daughter.”

“I had to fire him,” Harry makes the lame excuse because he knows he’s in the wrong and he’s not always great at admitting he is.

“You were supposed to have Ivy for two hours and this happens. I have her all day everyday and I’ve need had an issue with controlling myself in front of others!” YN yells (quietly) at him.

“What the fuck is tha’ supposed to mean? Y’calling me a bad father? Y’have her all day with her because I work so that you can stay at home with her.”

YN rolls her eyes, “Well thank god for that, she’d be cursing and screaming at people all day everyday if she was with you all the time.”

Harry is thoroughly pissed at his wife and she is equally just as furious with him - it doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s bad.

“Y’got some fuckin’ nerve. Our baby is polite, well-mannered because of me too! Not just you, fuckin’ claiming all her good qualities,” He replies with a snarl.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” YN bites back, “I’m not one of your employees. Neither is Ivy despite you talking like that in front of her.”

Now she was just trying to push his buttons and it was well onto it’s way of working.

“Y’bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous! It was a accident and you’re acting like I did it on purpose! Fuckin’ hell!” He raises his voice in frustration.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are raising your voice at me but I’m leaving,” YN tells him, giving him one final glare before storming out of the office.

“Fuck!” He grunts, smacking cup of pens from his desk before slamming his fist on the desk.

—

Ivy was waiting patiently, whimpering when she sees her mum, and gesturing to be picked up, “It’s past your nap time, Vee.”

“Nap,” She lisps sadly, instantly curling into then familiarness that is her mother. Eyes instantly fluttering shut.

“Thank you, Dor,” YN whispers, blowing her a kiss, before trekking out of the office with the exhausted little girl.

—

Harry can’t handle the rest of the day, wants to go home, and make amends with his wife which leads him to heading out only an hour after them.

He finds YN in the den with the baby monitor propped on the coffee table, she’s watching a horror movie with a smoothie in hand.

“Hi, m’heart,” Harry murmurs cautiously, loosening up his tie until it falls limp around his neck.

She glances over at him, sarcasm lacing her tone,“So you do know how to talk without yelling at me, hmm?”

His face falls, frowning, “Hey, lovie - don’t be like tha’. Y’gonna let me apologize?”

“Come scratch my back and I’ll hear you out,” She hums, keeping a serious face.

“Y’drive a hard bargain, m’heart. Show me y’tits,” Harry begins to smile, striding over and getting her no time before he’s pulling off her shirt and sports bra.

He sits down then gently lays her down on her tummy and she rests her head in his lap, cheek pressed against his thigh.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I wasn’t thinkin’. Now I’m worried she’s gonna hate me forever,” Harry mumbles, using his blunt nails to trace up and down her back.

“You’re her favorite person. She’ll always love you more than anything,” YN tells him seriously, arching when he scratches an extra itchy spot.

“I hope so. I love her more than anythin’. A little mixture of how much we love each other. How much we worked to get her,” He sighs softly.

—

YN dozed off and Harry tucks a blanket around her bare chest.

When the baby monitor alerts that Ivy had woke up after quite a long nap, he takes a deep breath before walking up the staircase to his fate.

He’s preparing himself for her to scream and cry when she sees her monster of a father because he’d scared her so horribly.

But his mini just widens her green eyes and he looks at his world with bated breath, waiting for the scream or tears.

Instead, she just dimples happily at her father, and squeals with excitement, “Daddy! Hi Daddy, miss you!”

And just like that….

They’re best friends again.

—-

Enjoy! Come talk to me!! 💕❣️💕❣️💕❣️

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship.

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

“That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

It was the best decision he would ever make.

So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.

Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

Until it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

It makes Spencer sick.

His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

“There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

“Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

“Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

“Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

“You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

“Not exactly.”

The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

“Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

“There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

“The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

“Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

“I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

“Busy?”

JJ nods.

“Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

Of fucking course.

Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

“She’s not interested.”

The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

“What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

“What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

“Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

“M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

“I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

“Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

“Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

“What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

“You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

“Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

“Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

“You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

“Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

“Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

“God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

“M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

“Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

“Open.”

You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

“Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

“D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

“So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

“Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

“S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

“Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

“Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

“So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

“F-Fuck, Spencer!”

“Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

“Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

“Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

“C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

“I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

“How many do you think you deserve?”

You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

“However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

Spencer returns your smile.

“Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

“T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

“Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

“You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds.

“Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips.

Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

“I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

“So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

“S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

“Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

“P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

“You okay, princess?”

You give a weak nod.

“M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

Spencer is the first to pull away.

“Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

“S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

“Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

“Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

“Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

“You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

“You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

“Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

“Only for you.”

A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

“We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

“Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

“Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

“Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Is that a no?”

“... Look up the number.”

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut.

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl.

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day.

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.”

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way.

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key.

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number.

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too…

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through.

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you.

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze.

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that.

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it.

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop.

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty.

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is.

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath.

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning.

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan.

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out.

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch.

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to.

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference?

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream.

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts.

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection.

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed.

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers.

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him.

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: stalking #i've said it like 48 times today #but ily fairy #you deserve the world #if you haven't gone to wish her a happy bday #GO NOW

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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The MC Accidentally Kisses the Brothers

Due to incredibly popular demand (and because it’s a cute prompt).

Lucifer

It was just a childish prank, but pretty much all of Satan’s pranks were childish at their core (even the more homicidal ones).

This one wasn’t even that bad in the grand scheme of things. The angry boi was just trying to see if he could get Lucifer to fall down the stairs...

...admittedly, saying it out loud makes it sound much more cruel than intended. But this is Lucifer we’re talking about. A tumble down a flight or two wouldn’t leave him too injured… Unfortunately for Satan, he wasn’t the only one who took a tumbling.

The plan was pretty simple, put an enchantment on the stairs to the Conference Hall, lay in wait, and trigger it right as Lucifer was leaving a meeting. He’s always the last to go, so it should have been foolproof.

But the MC hung back to leave with Lucifer that day and just so happened to jump forward right as Satan was timing his step… getting themselves thrown down along with him.

Fortunately for them both, the firstborn’s reflexes were astounding. He was already holding the MC in his demon form and cushioning their fall before they could even hit the first stair. And it was quite a long way down…

By the time they hit the bottom, Lucifer had them fully wrapped up in his wings and Satan couldn’t what had happened until they unfolded… whereupon he saw the MC laying on top of Lucifer with their lips far FAR too close together for his liking…

Yeah, that backfired pretty hard and Satan was left fuming over it for days… Not that Lucifer minded in the slightest.

Mammon

Sometimes when Mammon does his photoshoots he brings the MC along as one part cheerleader, one part pit crew. It’ll be their job to hold onto his stuff, make sure he has enough to drink, and generally stand there and be impressed by his awesomeness until they leave.

Well that day things had been going well… until a particularly nosy worker started hovering around the MC too much for Mammon’s liking.

He tried to put it past him, since he had a shoot to do and all, but he snapped about halfway through when the guy kept trying to force a conversation with the very not interested MC.

Oh, he was ready to tell him off. He made the photographer stop mid-shoot just so he could march over there himself and give that asshole a piece of his mind! He was going to absolutely tear him to shreds and then-!!

Okay, that didn’t exactly happen because right as he got up to the MC, ready to start shouting, our lovable moron tripped… again…

But unlike the first time, where he more or less face-planted the floor, this time he smacked lips first into a surprised MC in front of the jerk he was trying to scare off.

… Yeah. He meant to do that.

And that’s exactly how he played it off, keeping his lips right where they were and flipping the other guy off so he’d leave them alone (which, thankfully, he did).

Totally what he intended to do and he'll swear so to this day.

Leviathan

… how in the world do you mess up the Kabedon?

Levi had seen the move done hundreds of times before in anime. It’s a very simple concept: put someone up against a wall, put one of your hands by their head, and just lean. That’s it. Not rocket science.

Levi had been mentally preparing himself for this moment for days… He may or may not have even practiced this (very simple) move in his room countless times. He genuinely thought he was ready to try it on the MC.

So, on one of those rare days he went to RAD, he gave it a shot. He waited until he and the MC were walking alone together, got them up against the wall, annnnd…

...rather than touching the wall next to them, his hand completely missed any sort of hard surface because in his panic he stopped them right next to a blind corner…

Naturally, his body fell forward some but since there wasn’t that much space between them by that point he uh… he… well he now knows their preferred Chapstick.

No matter what the MC’s reaction ultimately was, he leapt away from them like he just licked an electric fence and bolted.

His embarrassment genuinely cannot be overstated... He practically broke a window in his attempt to get the hell out of there and back to his room, where he didn’t leave for three days straight… Poor Levi...

Satan

It started out as easily one of the best days of his life.

The MC, the exchange students, and the Royal Court had all decided to surprise him on his birthday with a Devildom-style cat cafe… Kitties were on practically every surface around him!

Admittedly, Satan had been pretty distracted throughout most of his time there. There were just so many kitties for him to see that he sort of forgot about the MC in the process…

So in order to get his attention a little, the MC thought it would be cute to pick up one of the furry bundles and hold it in front of their face, doing that little thing where you pretended to “talk” for the cat and even waved one of its little paws at him.

They hadn’t predicted that Satan would find the display utterly, heart-meltingly adorable...

He attempted to plant a kiss on top of the furry critter’s head at the exact time that the MC brought the cat down their face entirely.

It took Satan a second or two to register that his lips were not, in fact, on a cat. And when he pulled back to see the MC’s shocked expression, the full gravity of his actions smacked him in the face like a falling log…

Cue a flustered rush to apologize while the MC hid their face back behind the confused kitty… Getting an accidental kiss in front of the prince of Hell and literal angels was pretty dang embarrassing...

At least the incident was taken in good spirits by most of the people in attendance (minus Luke, who was desperately trying to give MC his bottle of holy water like it was pepper spray by that point).

Though after that point, Satan noticed that his “guests” kept passive-aggressively giving him cats until he was literally so buried in fluff he could barely move… probably not related, though. Probably.

Asmodeus

It was another party night with Asmo and the MC at the Fall having a good time.

Now, Asmo was no stranger to Demonus and other assorted demonic beverages. You could say his tolerance is decent enough, but get a few too many in him and he does start to get a little off…

And a drunk Asmo is a very troublesome Asmo.

The MC, bless their heart, was pretty much playing the sober babysitter to their demon friend when Asmo decided that he HAD to leave the club and get cupcakes right then. Being the good person they were, MC agreed to go with him, as long as he promised to stay with them and not wander off…

But they somehow managed to lose him within three blocks from the club. All they did was check their phone for directions and the guy bailed!!

Little did the MC know, while they were frantically searching for him Asmo hadn’t run away completely… He had just decided it was a great idea to play hide-and-seek at 2am and hid behind a nearby building.

It was his drunken giggling that eventually gave away his position, but he jumped out from behind the corner right as the MC was rounding it. Naturally, they both to collided. If hugging hadn’t been an instinctual action to Asmo by they point, they would have fallen down…

All they did ended up doing instead was getting caught in lip-lock due to Asmo’s sudden vice-grip.

Apparently he laughed and laughed all the way back to the House but his memory of it is pretty hazy… He’ll just have to get the MC to reenact it with him a few dozen times, that ought to jog his memory!

Beelzebub

The MC was helping Beel out with his workout yet again and things had been going well.

Since Beel is pretty much a one-man army, his weights and routine are usually waaay too advanced for any human to be able to handle. So the MC is less his spotter and more a casual supporter/motivator than anything else.

And motivation was just what they were trying to provide with a fun little experiment of theirs…

Ever heard of the “carrot-on-the-stick”? Well they decided to try something like that… literally. Just replace the carrot with a roast ham!

They put ham on a fishing pole, set Beel up on a treadmill, and dangled it closer or farther away based on his speed. In theory, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world... but in practice…?

Well. Someone should have told them not to stand in front of him during this little trial...

Their motivation experiment did work for a few minutes… But soon enough Beel’s stomach got the better of his (marginal) self-control. They just weren’t expecting him to leap over the top of the treadmill...!

The smart thing to do would have been to drop the fishing pole or to just keep it still so Beel could grab the meat, but the MC reflexively drew the pole back behind them… thus putting them right in Beel’s path instead.

And that’s how they ended up caged under lord knows how many pounds of Beelzebub, thankfully kissing their lips rather than trying to chew them off…

Needless to say, Beel climbed off of them, red as a cherry, and the MC let him have that ham before the two agreed to never try this again. Whoopsie!

Belphegor

Belphie likes sleep.

Belphie likes cuddles.

Belphie likes cuddling in his sleep.

Really this was bound to happen eventually…

The MC and Belphie were having a nice nap together in the attic and there wasn’t anything nefarious about it. Just two people snuggled up together in the same bed.

...snuggled up very close together in the same bed.

So close, in fact, that when the MC finally woke up and rolled over some to reposition themselves, they felt the soft lips of their companion brush up against their own.

They, of course, had the appropriate reaction of shock and embarrassment to this… but this cheeky fucker just smirked at them and let one eye slip open.

“What…? Is that it? It’ll take more than that to wake me up…”

Never mind the fact he was awake the whole time...

He really should have expected that pillow to the head, but after they struck the first blow, it was on now.

Don't worry. As it would turn out, an impromptu pillow fight also wakes him up just fine. Who'd have guessed?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reactions #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you

also,,, my first kinda long fic??

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.

The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.

You on the other hand had other plans.

What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.

A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message.

[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]

Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord?

You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle.

Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well.

Lee Felix

His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days.

But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?

You.

All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?

“Looking for this?”

The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms.

You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements.

Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them.

“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”

He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear.

“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”

You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened.

“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.

Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.

“You”

You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked.

“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”

You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind.

He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes.

♡

The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.

It was Felix.

His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist.

“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step.

“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather.

All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above.

“Wh- how do you know-”

Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter.

“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.”

“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity.

Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity.

“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”

You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.

“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”

You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals.

“Why?”

You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more.

“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.

“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.

“I never said that!”

“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”

Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.

“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions.

“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”

Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

Felix nods.

“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”

“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.

“Suck me off”

Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion.

“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”

Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt.

Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you.

“I’ll do it! I will do it!”

You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him.

The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours.

“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick.

Thank god that he was at least hot.

Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;

“What? Bigger than you thought?”

You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears.

“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”

“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness.

There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had.

Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke.

“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”

You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks.

“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”

Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself.

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process.

“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”

The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm.

It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt.

You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently.

“Swallow”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help.

“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”

You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files.

The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him.

“Thank you”

You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.

♡

You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish.

A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.

“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all”

You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files.

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea”

He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies.

“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away”

Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone.

“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?”

Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance.

Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy.

“Do you like living alone y/n? ”

The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.

“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?

“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self.

“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;

“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you.

“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”

You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling.

“Want some tea?”

For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure.

You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes.

“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment.

“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”

“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”

Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”

You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”

You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea.

“Open the tea pot maybe?”

Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive.

“What tea is this?”

You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.

“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”

You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall.

“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”

Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often.

“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”

You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person.

“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”

You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.

“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”

“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”

“Shut it”

You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off.

“What do we do now?”

You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.

“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”

You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards.

“I wanna change the deal y/n”

Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings.

“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”

Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts.

“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”

He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.

Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.

His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt.

“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”

You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?

Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.

“W-waited for,,, m-me?”

His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.

“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”

You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch.

A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor.

Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.

“Huh? Shy, babygirl?”

You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan.

“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”

You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.

“F-felix! faster,,, please”

Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix.

The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”

The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock.

You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on.

“Is this a one time thing or,,,”

You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.

“Let’s be friends”

You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.

“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”

Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real.

“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”

You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground.

Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare.

His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face.

“I’m sorry, y/n”

His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting.

“Hm? Look at me, y/n”

Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his.

“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”

He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears.

“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”

You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust.

“But one rule” he said.

You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.

“No falling in love”

You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid.

“So what do you say, y/n?”

He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow.

You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question.

But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup.

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