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coryosbaby · 5 months

Text

—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

��I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #dom! Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfic

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revkooks · 11 months

Text

“trust issues”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: strangers/friends to lovers, fluff, smut

summary: you’ve spent the past two years preaching about how much you enjoy being single and that dating was never a concern for you, until you meet jeon jungkook, the sweetest guy around, who completely changes that idea for you.

word count: 8.5k

warnings: nsfw, contains smut, alcohol consumption, unprotected s*x, oral (f receiving), brief bl*wjob, spanking, rough s*x, creampies, c*m eating, f*ngering, brief h*ndjob, heavy making out

Laughter fills the quiet room of your apartment as you and your two closest friends, Chae and Jennie, catch up on the latest gossip you had to share while sharing drinks and overall having a good time. It'd been too long since you'd went out of your way to have a full girls night, it felt good to finally have that closure as you certainly weren't receiving it from anyone else.

You were, what do they call it? Celibate, you guess you could say. You were painfully single. Dating never turned out right for you which lead you to wherever you were now, single for two years and counting. You never understood why dating was such a big fuss within your friend group, you'd been pestered multiples times to even go out and 'catch a dick' but you felt weirded out by the thought. You were a strong believer of destiny and if you were to meet someone you'd want it to reach you first instead of joining dating apps.

So when the topic of dating inevitably came up, you almost rolled your eyes unintentionally, ready to hear what every single friend of yours had been telling you for the past two years come from both Jennie and Chae's mouth as they collectively turned to you. "You know, Y/N", Jennie started, "It's been awhile since I've seen you with a man. Don't you think it's time to overcome this dating break of yours and meet someone new? You never know, your soulmate could be right around the corner."

You instantly waved her off, "Thank you, Jen, but I'm fine. I don't understand why everyone assumes you need to date to be happy, I'm just fine on my own."

"There's more to it than being happy. I mean, having a partner is like having a best friend who you can love and share affection with at the same time." Chae butts in, before adding, "and sex—most people love sex, don't deny it."

All you could do was laugh softly and scoff a little at her vulgar choice of words, you didn't disagree with her but you also brushed it off being the stubborn girl you were, you knew what you wanted and didn't feel the need to take in their words when it didn't mean anything to you. After some continuous bickering they finally decided to let the topic go after finally accepting the fact that you wouldn't budge, sharing detailed stories about their own personal lives as more laughter chimed in. You were already far gone at that point, lost in your own world and thoughts as you stared down at your feet situated on the floor, your mood had dropped slightly from the conversation prior to this one.

It wasn't that it was Chae nor Jennie's fault, it was the fact the topic of dating had been brought up countless times to you and you gave the same response each time so you never understood why you were constantly bugged.

"I'm fine by myself."

"I'm just not interested."

"Dating doesn't concern me."

Those words played in your head and while it was true you also knew deep down what the major problem surrounding you not wanting to date was.

The cause was undoubtedly your past and last relationship with your former boyfriend, Eunwoo. It all started 5 years ago when you met and even from your first interaction with him you were starstruck. He was utterly gorgeous, not only that but his personality was perfect, he was sweet, patient and caring towards you, he treated you the best you'd ever been treated and always had you feeling like you were still talking to your crush 2 years into your relationship. Then when the 3rd year hit, something in him just drastically switched, it was like he was an entirely different person around you and you couldn't bare it. He was irritable, finding all the many different reasons to somehow get mad at you and when he wasn't mad he was simply neutral, never acknowledging your affection or 'I love you's.' The most you got back in response was a nonchalant 'You too.'

Something wasn't right and you knew it, if he couldn't even bring himself to tell you he loves you then why the hell was he still with you? Your gut told you he was too busy giving someone else what he was supposed to give to you though you were too in denial. Flash forward a few weeks, you come home early from work one night and there he was, with another girl. Your heart had shattered and you resorted to kicking him out the apartment, now 2 years later and you feel like you still may be wallowing in self pity with the whole dating hiatus concept.

Honestly, fuck it. If your friends were right after all then you supposed only time would tell, you still weren't interested in looking for anyone and it was going to stay that way.

Your friends had already left by the next morning, you were stationed in the kitchen, about to make breakfast until you opened the fridge and realized you were out of eggs. "For fuck's sake", you cursed beneath your breath, shutting it again before walking towards your apartment door and pulling your jacket off the rack hanging up. Luckily for you a drive to the grocery store was about five minutes away, you hurried over to your car, unlocked it and made your way there.

You instantly scurried over to the aisle where the eggs were, grabbing the box and already preparing to walk to the cashier before a voice interrupts you, stopping you in your tracks. "In a rush, huh?" The male laughs breathlessly, you turn back around to catch a glimpse of him and—damn. He was attractive, his eyes creasing as he smiled down at you, dark bangs adorning his face and a sleeve tattoo covering his arm. You simply nodded, "Yeah, I don't need anything else, plus I'm very hungry." He paused for a moment, you assumed your little interaction was over before he continued, "That's a shame, you looked like you needed help, I was already willing." You couldn't help but smile softly at his words, shaking your head, "Nope, but I appreciate the kindness, __” “Jungkook." He quickly adds, "Jungkook." You repeat, "I'm Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N, I hope to see you around again some time", Jungkook flashes you a bunny grin and from that you can see he also has a lip piercing slightly hidden away, you must admit, it suited him. You agree with a subtle bow of your head, "You too!", and with an exchanged 'bye' you both proceeded to approach your designated areas, shaking off the cute yet awkward interaction you just had as you place the one thing you brought on the cashier's desk. You quickly paid and swiftly exited the store, completely unaware of Jungkook's gaze on your back.

"Dude, why didn't you get her number?" Jungkook's best friend, Jimin, exclaims as he nudges the younger on his shoulder before taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know, it felt strange to ask. Chances are we might meet again and hopefully in a better environment, that's when I'll shoot my shot." He shakes his head almost disappointedly before continuing to blankly stare at the TV in front of him. "Why did you even put this shit on? You know I'm not a fan of reality shows." Jungkook asks the other as 'Love Island' blasts on the TV, the loud intro resonating through the room. Jimin shrugs his shoulders and calmly responds, "It's entertaining at least, and it might help with your poor flirting skills", the last sentence earned a piercing glare from Jungkook, narrowing his eyes at Jimin before standing up and walking into the kitchen. "Whatever, I'm gonna grab a drink."

Jimin waves the other off and continues focusing his attention purely on the screen in front of him, Jungkook pouring himself a glass of water in the meantime, thoughts of you swarming his mind as he fought to get rid of them. He was finding it almost impossible, your conversation, if you could even call it that, was weeks ago and by now he knew you'd forgotten about it but he hadn't. You were just so cute, gorgeous even, he was intrigued by you and if you were in a better setting he knew by now you'd have his number in your phone and he'd be getting to know you. The literal only thing he knew about you was that you liked eggs, and that did absolutely nothing for him.

He was determined, thoughts like these weren't a normal occurrence for him so you were really special, whatever it took to meet you again, he didn't care, it was going to happen. Fuck, why didn't he give you his number? Jimin was right.

"Dude, get in here!" He heard from the living room, heading back inside with his glass of water in hand, taking a small sip before sitting back down beside the other with a questioning, raised eyebrow. "What is it?", he asked, to which Jimin replied, "We're going clubbing. You needa take your mind off this shit, maybe even find a girl whilst you're at it." Jungkook audibly scoffed, Jimin's sudden request catching him off guard although he agreed with a shrug of his shoulders, "Alright, but maybe not the last part."

You were seated on your couch, sprawled out lazily as you flicked through channels before you heard your phone ping, sitting upright to grab it off the table and read what was displayed on the screen.

chae: get ready, you're going out with us

you: when did i agree to this? and who is us?

chae: it's gonna be fun, y/n. just me, you, jen and lisa.

You sighed, it wouldn't kill to go out, right? It'd been awhile, you used to love partying but recently you've found yourself turning any invite down, something was telling you this'd be different and it'd do you good, so you sat in thought before typing a response.

you: fine, what time will u be here?

chae: 7 on the dot

Setting your phone aside, you gathered the strength to hop off your couch and make your way upstairs to your bedroom, you had a few dresses you could wear for tonight that you found pretty so you rummaged through your closet before finding an ideal one. You held it in front of your body to get a clearer perspective of how'd you look in it before stepping out of your silk pajamas and slipping the dress on, adjusting it a little before taking one last look at yourself with a wide smile. You had no clue why you hadn't worn this before, it complimented you well and hugged your curves perfectly, it wasn't too revealing but it had a slit that started mid thigh.

You took a quick glimpse at your clock as it read 6:05 pm, that gave you just under an hour to complete your makeup which you figured would be enough time considering you wanted to go for a rather simplistic look, so without another thought you swiftly took a seat in front of your mirror and got started.

Time passed by quicker than you'd expected and you were startled to hear your doorbell ringing from downstairs, luckily for you you'd already finished up your look and after one last brief moment of checking yourself out, you were taking your bag, keys and phone with you and rushing down the steps to your front door. You got into your heels before opening the door for Chae who welcomed you with a bright smile, looking like a proud sister.

"You look fucking hot, Y/N", she complimented, earning a blush from you before you shook your head at her words and pulled her in for a warm hug, "So do you, now let's get going, I wanna last awhile before my feet start hurting." She nodded in agreement and brought you to the car parked outside where your two other friends, Jennie and Lisa were situated inside, you joined them and Chae began driving shortly after.

Loud music rang through your ears as soon as the four of you entered the club, you'd forgotten how different this was but you'd be lying if you said your adrenaline wasn't already pumping, your inner party girl side really revealing itself when you quickly found yourself walking towards the bar for your first drink of the night. You weren't certain of how long you were gonna last until the alcohol kicks in and you also weren't planning on drinking a lot, but it wouldn't kill to have one or two.

Lisa came over to join you, making herself comfortable on the high stool beside you, you'd only noticed her once she greeted you with an attempted, loud, "Are you having fun?", which was almost impossible considering how much the music drowned out her words. You turned your head in her direction before offering her a contented smile, "So far, yeah. We haven’t been here long enough for me to tell.” You spoke out, glancing around the area before resting your elbow on the bar and your chin on your palm.

“You wanna take a shot of tequila?” Lisa asked, to which you blatantly agreed, “fuck it.” The both of you ordered a shot and on the count of 3, downing it as you hissed simultaneously, the burning sensation wasn’t at all pleasant. You both went on to carry a conversation after that before Lisa got up to dance after asking you if it was okay, you wanted her to have fun, you were sure you’d find someone else to hang out with either way, you were a social butterfly at heart.

Jungkook and Jimin stumbled into the club, they were hardly dressed for the occasion as they both agreed to head out as soon as Jimin proposed the idea, Jungkook scrunched his nose ever so slightly before turning to the older who seemed to already be on his way to a table. He followed after him and they took a seat, “I’ll go get us drinks”, the younger declared and got up from the seat he had hardly sat down on before making his way over to the bar.

Unnoticeably he had taken the seat beside you, you were too busy being in your own world to notice him as he ordered for him and Jimin, he gazed at the woman next to him before looking back at the bar, then doing a double take because he swore the girl seemed all too familiar. His lips parted slowly as he caught a better glimpse of you and, to his surprise, it in fact was you. He almost couldn’t believe it for some reason despite the town you lived in being relatively small and the club popular, he just didn’t think he was going to see you again.

“Y/N!” He called out beside you, catching your attention and making you face him, your lips instantly curving up into a smile as you see the male in front of you. You were slightly shocked he remembered you considering your interaction at the grocery store was awhile ago and you barely had a real conversation, but his thoughtfulness meant a lot to you.

“Hey, Jungkook! I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you?” You spoke softly but loud enough for him to hear you, “I’m good, better now you’re here.” He gave you that same smile you adored the first time you saw, his words also making you feel somewhat special. “How are you?” Jungkook added, “I’ve been okay. I was kinda forced to come to this party but hey, it’s not too bad now.” You emphasized the last part to make him aware it was about him, feeling somewhat shy.

“Not gonna lie, my friend also forced me here—well, dragged, I did agree but it wasn’t my idea”, he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck as he eyed the beaming room, why did every time you meet have to be in such an inconvenient place?

Jungkook then remembered he was here with Jimin, the bartender placing the drinks he’d ordered in front of him and then he gazed back at you, “I’ll be right back, don’t want him getting mad at me”, you nodded understandably and watched Jungkook scurry with the drinks in his hands to what seemed to be the table he and his friend were at. Jimin could tell just by his gaze something had happened and Jungkook was already starting as he set the drinks down, not taking a seat because he knew he’d be going back to you.

“Dude, she’s here, the girl I was telling you about. I can’t pass this opportunity up so I’m gonna get her number this time, go have fun.” Jungkook rushed back to you and Jimin just shrugged, “more drinks for me.”

He made his way through the crowd to find you still in your seat as expected, he spoke up before you could, “You wanna get out of here? I’m not really feeling it.” You nodded, already getting out of your seat, “I’m not either, but I don’t have a ride, do you?”

Jungkook took your hand and lead you out the club, his voice finally clear as he replied, “My car’s over here, I’ll take you home.” You thanked him and shuffled into the passenger’s seat as he made his way to the driver’s, starting up the car’s engine and beginning to drive off while asking you for your location and heading towards there once you gave him it. You both talked about whatever, bonding over different things this time and actually forming the chance to get to know each other more, you were warming up to Jungkook and it felt like he was the same.

His car eventually stopped outside your house, you thanked him once again before opening the door, he called out to you. Now was his chance.

“Here, give me your phone, I’m gonna give you my number just incase you ever wanna talk”, you opened your bag to take your phone out before displaying it in front of him and allowing him to type his number in, you checked back and giggled inaudibly as you read the name he’d put in for himself: “Kook.”

You waved him off goodbye, reminding him to text you when he made it home safe to which he agreed before driving away, leading you to stumble into your apartment after managing to unlock it after a few failed attempts before instantly finding your way to your couch and slumping on it, ripping your heels off that were as you expected, painfully causing your feet to ache. You’d wasted no time to switch your TV back on and play one of your comfort shows, Modern Family, as background noise while you went upstairs to change back into your comfiest pair of pajamas.

Being at home like this is what you enjoyed the most, you appreciated the small amount of time you spent at the club since it got you out with your friends and also granted you the opportunity to meet Jungkook once again, who you actually had been thinking about after that one interaction you two shared but the thought eventually slipped from your mind since you figured you maybe weren’t going to meet again like he said after all, but you were wrong.

You learned a few key details about Jungkook from the conversation you had during the car ride. He was 25, a year older than you, he lived alone and had a doberman and you so happened to be a dog lover so you bonded over that, he likes art and dancing and he’s currently single, something you were relieved about because you were the only single friend in your group and you didn’t want the joys of another taken person flaunting their relationship.

You heard your phone buzz on the table opposite your couch as you came back downstairs in your silky pajamas, biting your lip to hide your obvious smile once you saw Jungkook was the one who’d texted you.

kook: made it home safe, thank you for tonight :)

kook: he was waiting for me

kook: [attachment: image]

A picture of his dog, Bam, lights up your screen and you let out a small laugh seeing the dog laying beside the door as if he was in fact waiting for Jungkook, you respond with an ‘awww’ before thanking him yet again for the ride home, you both begin a conversation from that point until you feel yourself yawning, indicating you were tired and ready to go to bed for the night. It was already 10 pm, you’d been chatting to Jungkook through messages and exchanging silly memes with each other for so long you hadn’t even noticed how quick time passed by. You dimmed the lights in your house and made your way upstairs to your bedroom, shuffling onto your mattress and beneath the bedsheets, receiving a sweet goodnight message from Jungkook and with that you set your phone aside and closed your eyes, dozing off the happiest you’ve been in awhile.

Friday, 3:30 pm.

“Finally”, you sigh. You quickly tore your apron off and hung it up on the rack before clocking out of work for the day, you were about to leave the coffee shop before a certain someone walked in, greeting you with a wide smile and you were definitely surprised to see him. “Kook, what are you doing here?” You asked, he held his hand up to his chest, pretending to be offended, “I like coffee, you know”, you playfully rolled your eyes and you were about to turn around to take his order before he stopped you, “I’m kidding, I’m not here for coffee, I’m here to see you.” You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter, you let out a small laugh, “You showed up as soon as I clocked out, that’s dedication.”

You walk out from the bar situated in front of you to stand directly in front of him, reaching up to pinch his cheek teasingly, “But I appreciate it, thank you for coming here.” He smiles and nods his head at you before speaking once again, “also, I came to ask, are you interested in going to the movies with me this weekend? I wanna see the new Guardians of the Galaxy.” His words almost earned a chuckle out of you, you weren’t the biggest fan but with his doe eyes and promising expression, you couldn’t turn him down. “Of course, Kook, I’d love to.”

Did this mean you two were going on a date? Maybe it didn’t, you don’t know how Jungkook viewed you but for now you both were just friends, and friends can go and see a movie together alone without it being a date.

Jungkook’s face lit up in excitement, he mumbled a soft ‘yes’ beneath his breath before glancing around the small coffee shop, it was particularly empty so he decided to lead you to a table for two and treat you with a coffee for yourself. You couldn’t fathom how he was so sweet, undeniably attractive and overall perfect yet still single? Jungkook was utterly charming, you found yourself involuntarily admiring him as he got up to order you a drink and you quickly snapped out of it once you realized what you were doing. There’s no way you were falling for him, right? Just months ago you were preaching about how you wanted to stay single and it was gonna stay that way and yet here Jungkook was, completely changing that for you.

You doubt Jungkook even saw you in that way, every kind gesture of his seemed to be friendly to you, unless you were just completely unaware. Perhaps you were in denial? Dating has always been such an no-go for you, it’s like you were off limits but not at the same time, you have said that when the time comes you’ll let it be and this might be the time you were referring to you’re experiencing right now. Over the past month, you and Jungkook have grown closer and closer and you’ve been texting nonstop, you know so much about him as he does with you, you haven’t had many chances to see each other though which is why you appreciated him coming to your workplace.

Now on Saturday you were finally being gifted the chance to spend a day with this man and you were most definitely excited about it, it’d maybe put your thoughts of possibly falling for him at ease.

You snapped out of it as he came back with the drink in his hand and that infamous bunny smile plastered on his face, placing it down in front of you, you offered a small ‘thank you’ before taking it in your own hand and beginning to quietly sip on it. You eventually finished and the two of you were standing up and exiting the building, calling it a day, he made sure to tell you he’d be picking you up at 5:30 tomorrow and you made a mental note of that. You rushed to your car and headed inside before driving back to your apartment after a long, boring day (aside from seeing Jungkook), and you spent a lot of time pondering about tomorrow rather than doing your usual activities.

The next morning arrived quickly, it was also the day of your ‘date’ with Jungkook, or platonic hanging out, whatever it was. You were over the moon as you got out of bed, and you were never typically a morning person so that spoke for itself. Jungkook had already sent you his daily ‘good morning’ text that he always manages to send before you wake up, his small efforts to make you happy genuinely meant a lot to you because everything he did was just so well thought out. You had a lot of time before he was going to arrive to pick you up so you didn’t need to worry, making your way downstairs and preparing your breakfast.

Jungkook was still happy over the fact you even said yes to watching this movie with him, he didn’t know you were a fan of Guardians of the Galaxy, were you?

Whatever, he thought to himself. Jungkook wasn’t going to lie, he’d been thinking about you way more often recently and it seemed like his brain was just accumulated with thoughts of nothing but you. He felt bad, almost. You had no idea about his secret crush on you, he didn’t want to say anything or make a move just yet despite you being in a friendship for quite awhile now. He couldn’t tell how you felt about him, he wanted to wait for an occasion like a date, you’d be alone and spending quality time together and that in his opinion was a great way to start something more. Jimin sometimes would urge Jungkook to take it a step further but he never complied, it’s not that he was nervous—maybe he was—he didn’t know, he was conflicted.

He wasn’t conflicted about his feelings towards you, he knows he likes you and he’s known it ever since he saw you in that grocery store, he was conflicted about your feelings towards him. You flirt over text, you compliment each other and now you’re getting ready to see a movie together, you could’ve shut him down but you didn’t. Then again, you may just see him as a friend and this could be a friendly date to you, that’s why he doesn’t know what to do.

Jungkook sighed to himself softly, he checked his phone incase there were any new texts from you before deciding to just set it down and go and take a shower, already preparing for the date 5 hours prior.

5:25 pm.

“He’s gonna be here any second now”, you mumbled to yourself, you checked your outfit in the mirror and made any necessary readjustments. You decided to wear a white crop-top and a miniskirt, throwing on your jacket to complete the look before shuffling into your shoes. That’s when you heard your doorbell ringing, quickly standing up from the couch to open it and you were met with a cheerful Jungkook, “Hi”, he spoke softly, to which you replied back, “Hey”, you gave him a smile and he helped you outside, his hand splayed on your back.

“You looked beautiful, by the way”, you heard him address, your cheeks flared with a slight tint of blush as you thanked him, he lead you to the car and began driving you two to the theatre.

You both arrived and you followed Jungkook inside as he fisted his hands inside his pockets, waiting in the small line for the tickets to the movie as you glanced at the different foods they had on the menu, Jungkook turning his head in your direction before he asked, “You want anything? Popcorn?”, you suddenly felt shy and also bad as he had already offered to pay for the movie and now additionally snacks so you shook your head.

“You sure?”, he spoke again, “I don’t mind. It’s my treat, after all.” To which you finally agreed and asked for a simple small popcorn but he still ordered you and himself a drink alongside it, paying for the tickets as well. You both walked to the designated room for the movie and took your seats, he’d picked ones that were right at the back of the theatre and you weren’t complaining because you hated sitting up close. You got the best view from back here.

After awhile, the lights dim and the screen extends, Jungkook’s already shuffling around in anticipation while occasionally taking a sip of his drink and you can’t help but find him adorable, you didn’t mean to focus on him more than the movie. You hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring so you quickly focused on the big screen in front of you. You hear laughs and different reactions from the audience at every other scene, you find yourself getting comfortable in your seat and eventually you’re drawn into the movie just like everybody else.

Jungkook was stealing glances at you as well, you looked too damn good in your outfit, he could see your curves as the skirt hugged them perfectly and then his eyes trailed further up to your lips, he wanted to kiss them. He was content just seeing you enjoying the movie, you were like his own personal movie as he found himself enjoying watching you way more. Was he being weird? Probably. Did he care? Not really.

You go to glance at him only to realize he already was, you make eye contact and for a moment it’s awkward but Jungkook just silently laughs and smiles at you, turning back to the movie. You were blushing by that point, trying to get over your own thoughts as you fixated your gaze on the screen.

By the time the movie was over, Jungkook was emotional and so were you, but he definitely expressed it more as he walked out the room with you, going on about his favorite parts of the movie and how much of a wreck it made him. You chuckled at how dramatic he was, he eventually came down from it and he yet again splayed a hand across your back, giving it a gentle rub before walking you out the theatre completely. “Thank you for seeing that with me, you’re honestly the best.”

“You’re the best for taking me, Kook. I enjoyed it a lot.” You rested your head against his shoulder tiredly, the movie was pretty damn long so by the time you two were out it was already 8 pm. He ended up taking you back home and you continuously thanked him for the amazing night, you were definitely planning on doing this again with him some time. You entered your apartment, replaying the moments in your head. He made you so happy, you couldn’t believe how much your boring life had changed upon meeting Jungkook, he appreciated you and showed you what it’s like to be cherished. He was always so sweet to you, Jungkook had a heart of gold and constantly went out of his way to do things he knew would make you happy.

He’d asked you what your favorite type of flowers were one day and after you replied with ‘roses’, he showed up at your workplace with a bouquet full of them. No guy has ever bought you flowers, not even Eunwoo, that had you thinking back on your last relationship and suddenly you were distraught again.

Eunwoo was sweet at first as well, then it went downhill. That wasn’t to say that Jungkook would be the same but this is exactly why you had trouble with dating after him, you had trust issues. You were convinced Jungkook was the sweetest guy and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you but you also felt that way with Eunwoo at first. You didn’t wanna paint Jungkook out to be any type of bad guy because he’s shown that he’s nothing but good to you, you’re just an overthinker and you can’t help but get flashbacks of your stupid ex-boyfriend whenever something like this happens to you.

You didn’t want Jungkook to have to put up with this if you ever even reached the point of a relationship. Your issues weren’t his problem, it’s not his fault you’re scared to commit.

You narrowed your eyebrows as you thought of Eunwoo again, if you never met him things would’ve been fine. Now he’s probably out there living his best life and you’re still stuck on the damage he gave you.

But when you thought of Jungkook, a whole new wave of happiness swarmed through your body and everything about him put you at ease, you felt safe around him, he treated you like you were the only girl in the world. You had to admit, you were falling for him, and that’s something you thought would never happen with anyone.

“I’m falling for him.” You declared, almost a little nervously as you glanced back and forth between Chae and Jennie.

You’re surprised when Jennie exclaims, “See! I told you so. I knew you liked him, this is perfect. I’ve always wanted you to be with someone just like Jungkook.” And you turned to Chae who only shrugs as though she was silently agreeing with Jennie. Their reactions do make you laugh but you also roll your eyes slightly because you’d been over this with them before, that you don’t want to date and you don’t need a man and here you were, a few months later, stating you’d met someone.

They knew about Jungkook already, after you left them at that party you had to apologize and Lisa caught you out, telling the whole groupchat she noticed you walking away with a guy by your side so then you had to explain the full story in detail. They were happy for you but it was also a semi “I told you so” moment which had you scoffing, you didn’t like defeat and them taunting you only made it worse. Your friends were practically like the sisters you never had, they were constantly looking out for you so if Jungkook was approved by them you figured that had to mean something good. You don’t think they’ve ever met him and if they have then you certainly don’t remember, but given the amount of stories you’ve told them, they have a good enough vision of who he is and what he acts like.

You really didn’t think in a million years you’d be here with your friends at your apartment, admitting you finally like somebody but that’s just life. You never know what’s around the corner, you certainly didn’t expect Jungkook.

Jungkook was on the same page as you, he was telling Jimin all sorts of things about you, what your favorite movie was, your favorite book, food, things to eat, songs—he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t say he was in love but he was just so infatuated by you, Jimin didn’t seem to mind Jungkook’s chattering as he was his personal wingman after all and this is what he’s always wanted for his younger friend. He loved seeing him happy even if he enjoyed teasing him about it at times.

“You’re obsessed, bro”, Jimin snorted, Jungkook shot him a glare, “I’m not, I just like her a lot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

A few days went by, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you instantly knew who it was, swiping upwards on your screen to open the message as a smile spread across your lips.

kook: can i come over?

kook: i miss you

You replied with a ‘yes’ and then you were sat on your couch awaiting his arrival. Jungkook had been visiting more frequently recently, your feelings for each other were still unknown but your friends most definitely knew, you both had no idea you’d been talking about how much you like one another and yet you still haven’t had the guts to say it upfront.

It wasn’t long until you heard a knock on your front door, you got up to answer and expectedly you were greeted by Jungkook, you stepped aside to welcome him in before heading back over to your place on the couch, offering him the seat beside you. He sat down and the couch slightly dipped from the added weight, he subconsciously wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you inched yourself closer towards him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked as you turned to look up at him, he responded with a small hum, “Sure, do you have Netflix?” You nodded and clicked the Netflix option on your controller before flicking through different movies to watch, you just settled on a random one that seemed funny to you and Jungkook didn’t mind that. You didn’t have to necessarily be talking to him to enjoy his presence, you appreciated just silently cuddling like this on the couch while watching a movie.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched, though, moving your head from your position to gaze up at Jungkook and as you thought, you were correct. He was staring at you and he didn’t bother to look away even after you caught him, you nervously laughed and mumbled out a quiet, “what?”, to which he didn’t answer at first but after a few moments he spoke up.

“You’re just so beautiful, Y/N. And I mean that.” You swallowed harshly at his words, trying to suppress your smile but of course you failed and gave him a wide grin—he wasn’t done yet, though. “Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I’ve felt things I’ve never felt before and I know it’s taken me awhile to say this but, I do like you.”

You didn’t even know how to respond, the only thing you could think of was to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, which you did.

Jungkook was quick to return it, you could sense his eagerness just by having his lips on yours and you loved it, you fluttered your eyes shut in contentment while deepening the kiss gradually, throwing a leg over his knee and he easily obliged, grabbing onto your thigh to forcefully prop you on top of his lap. Your lips meshed with one another’s perfectly, you let out a small gasp as he sucked on your bottom lip and slipped his tongue inside due to your mouth falling open, you slid your arms from around his neck down to his chest and finally they found a place on his cheeks.

He knitted his eyebrows slightly, pulling back to catch his breath and also mumble out, “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

You barely made it inside your room before the door was being slammed shut and Jungkook was using his strength to pull you into his chest, leaning down to reconnect your lips into another messy kiss, you couldn’t get enough of each other. He lead you towards the bed by pushing you back step by step until you eventually stumbled and fell onto the mattress, Jungkook swiftly climbing on top of you with his lips still pressed against yours. His hands roamed your body, feeling every curve he’d been oh so desperate to touch and now he finally was, he finally had you and he wasn’t going to let you go. He’d spent months thinking about you, jerking off to the thought of you, now that you were underneath him he wanted to do everything he’d dreamed of.

Jungkook was the first to break the long lasting kiss, the both of you catching your breaths while he was already in a rush to remove his shirt, impatiently undoing the buttons one by one until he finally managed to slide it down his arms and your thighs were already clenching at just the sight of his toned abs. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, sliding a hand beneath the expanse of your back to lift you up and carefully roll your panties down your legs with the other, your skirt coming off next. You spread your legs for him, causing him to groan softly as he positioned himself in front of you with his face hovering in front of your pussy and lower body almost off the bed. “Been dreaming of this pussy for so long”, he sighed out quietly, “You don’t know how much I’ve craved to be inside of you, Y/N.”

His words made you whimper softly, you were practically begging for him at this point as you eased your pussy closer to his face and he took the hint, burying his face between your thighs and already lapping his tongue over your entire cunt. He stopped at your clit and began teasing it with the tip of his tongue at a slow pace, you whined lowly and arched your back, a hand coming down to tangle within his hair as he worked his mouth along your pussy perfectly.

“You taste so fucking sweet”, he mumbled against your cunt, sliding his tongue between your folds and collecting your essence with it before wrapping his lips around your clit and hollowing his cheeks ever so slightly as he sucked, making your pussy a complete mess. His drool seeped down his chin and landed on different parts of your cunt, meshing with your own slick and making you so unbelievably wet. Jungkook released a breathy moan at your taste, relishing in it every time he brought his tongue back up to meet your clit, his lips continuing to suck before he eventually drew back and slid his ring and middle finger inside of you.

The unexpected action caused your back to arch even higher, his fingers reached parts of you you didn’t know were capable of reaching but Jungkook made it work, curling them on every thrust in while diving back down to continue mercilessly lapping his tongue over your pussy. You were a moaning mess beneath him and you were positive his tongue would make you cum soon enough, your hand desperately grasped at his hair and you unnoticeably pushed him even further into your cunt which made him release a low chuckle.

You lost all composure when Jungkook brought a third finger up, you were so wet he managed to slide it in effortlessly and thrust them all at once in a repetitive rhythm that had you gasping for air, his tongue doing absolute wonders on your clit not making it any easier for you and before you knew it, you were clenching around his digits and cumming hard, your legs shaking intensely for a brief moment.

Jungkook was already in the process of unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants down impatiently, releasing his hard cock, taking himself in his own hand and giving himself a few pumps before sitting upright on the bed, discarding his clothes and kicking them off his ankles completely as he positioned himself in front of you.

“Shit, I need you so bad. I can’t wait any longer.” Jungkook whispered out quietly, a quiet hiss following from the pleasure he was already receiving from stroking his cock at a slow pace.

“Please”, you managed to mumble out, hands weakly coming up to slip your top off and unclip your bra, exposing yourself completely to the man in front of you. His gaze fell darker than it already was, cupping both your tits in his hands and thoroughly massaging them before releasing his grasp to dip his head down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, nuzzling his face against your breast simultaneously while sucking. You bit your lip softly and rested your hand on the back of his head, the other coming down to pump his cock for him which made him growl and draw back.

He gently removed your hand off his cock, if you jerked him off he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long and he wanted to cum inside of you. You thought he was about to enter you until you were abruptly flipped over onto your stomach, you felt a hard spank across your ass which made you dig your nails into the bedsheets and whine quietly.

“Up”, Jungkook commanded, his tone had dropped a few octaves lower which made you excited. You did as he told you, arching your back in the air for him with a sway of your hips that had him clicking his tongue. He rested a hand on your waist for support, inching himself closer to you, he was on his knees behind you and now he was dangerously close because you could feel his tip poking your entrance from behind. You were growing impatient, you were waiting him to slide into you already and—

Your thoughts were cut off as soon as you felt his thick cock filling you up, he had completely bottomed out and shoved himself into you all the way, earning a breathy, loud moan from you. He barely granted you with enough time to adjust to his size before pulling out and slamming back in again, he set this repetitive rhythm of drawing back almost all the way just to shut you up with his dick again and it had your toes curling. He hit all the right spots inside you, his hips rocking forward into yours deeply and his tip reaching your gspot effortlessly, you weren’t sure you were going to last long from how hard and well he was fucking you.

He unexpectedly struck another hard slap against your ass and you let out another needy whine, Jungkook was pounding away at your pussy and you heard him occasionally grunt beneath his breath. “Fuck”, he cursed out, “You feel so fucking good around me, so tight.” You purposely clenched at his words and it made him groan quietly, snapping his hips forward in order to forcefully fuck his way through your walls and all you could do was take it, allowing him to use you as he pleased.

Jungkook brought a hand down between where you were connected and he felt around your clit for a moment before dipping his fingers between your folds and deliberately pressing against it, rubbing your clit in a circular motion and applying pressure to make you feel it properly. The stimulation on your clit and the way his cock was ruining your insides was all too much for you, you felt another orgasm coming on and you were just going to let it happen.

He halted for a moment as he was buried all the way inside of you, teasingly rotating his hips and you swore you almost came on the spot, he proceeded with his reckless pace on your cunt and his fingers continued caressing your clit in that same circular motion and with a few more hard thrusts, you were coming undone within seconds beneath him, your pussy contracting around his cock as another orgasm hits you. Jungkook pulled out slowly and flipped you onto your back again, “Wanna see your pretty face when I cum in you”, he murmured out as he leaned down to connect your lips again, you weren’t even sure if you could call this a kiss from how messy it was as he smothered his lips against your own, his hips driving forward which lead to his cock sinking impossibly deeper into you and before you knew it, he was pounding into your cunt once again.

Jungkook traveled a hand down the expanse of your thighs before grabbing onto one and effortlessly throwing it around his waist, the new angle allowing him to thrust further into you, you moaned weakly against his lips as he quietly shushed you and gave you rough, senseless strokes. He released a string of curses as he felt his own high approaching, sitting upright and settling both hands on your waist instead, leaving your leg to dangle around his hips without any support, you weren’t sure if you could keep it up for much longer.

His head hung low, his jaw clenching tightly to suppress the loud moan aching to escape his throat, giving you precisely harder and deeper thrusts until a particular one had him reaching his high, finally spilling his cum inside your pussy with a dragged out, pleasured sigh. He felt himself gradually softening, pulling out before curling his finger in a ‘come here’ motion and you took the hint, crawling towards him on your knees, “Clean me up, baby.”

You wrapped your lips around his tip and made sure to drain the remains of his cum out, lapping them up with your tongue and swallowing all of it. You earned a breathless ‘good girl’ from him, you didn’t stop your movements on his dick and you even went as far as to push your head further down, almost turning it into a blowjob until he stopped you and collapsed beside you on the bed.

“I’m gonna need awhile to recover from that.” Jungkook joked, you giggled softly and laid next to him, hugging his larger body against yours and making yourself comfortable in his arms as he wrapped his around your shoulders like he always does.

“Y/N?” Jungkook spoke out, you hummed in question and he hesitantly continued after a small pause, “I think after that, it’s only right if I ask you the question.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The wide grin on your face was enough of an answer to him, but he still felt relieved when he heard you say, “Of course I will, dummy.”

You reached up to give him a peck on the lips before resting your head against his shoulder, you both dozed off like that, cradled in each other’s arms and now official.

You never would’ve thought you’d end up in this situation.

But one thing you do know, is that you love Jungkook.

And Jungkook loves you.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Text

Black Metal and Bourbon (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 8.1k

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, drug usage, mentions of sex & intimacy, dark jokes/dirty jokes, rumors, gossip, past toxic relationship, a shitty Ex, protective!Simon, etc. (18+ mini-series)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slapped the damp rag back into the bar top, the fabric heavy with spilled alcohol and other fluids that you didn’t even want to try and think about.

“Jesus.” Your muscles ache, neck stiff from having to try and slap a dart from the ceiling where some jackass had been too drunk to attempt and hit the target. The thing was still up there, as you weren’t about to spend your entire night fruitlessly attempting to fix someone else's blurry mistakes.

You glare over your shoulder, seeing the unconscious form of the man in question being dragged out by his friends presently, his slurring chuckles making him sound like a drowning elephant. Intoxicated yells of goodbye attached to your name make you roll your eyes slowly as they begin being said; you push through the waist-height door to allow you behind the front counter. Your middle finger flips the patrons off before boisterous flirting hits the air.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that—!” Is cut off by the slam of the front doors and you couldn’t be more happy that your boss hadn’t gotten the bolts tightened.

“Don’t get paid enough…” You grumble, eyes slithering over to the tip jar and seeing the overflow of bills and coins as your fingers wrap the neck of a bottle of Vodka.

The profit would be split with your coworker even if she’d been gone for more than half a night getting railed by her new boy toy. You can still remember the look she’d given you as she’d walked out during rush hour, her sharp smirk and smug sheen of ‘you won’t say anything, will you?’

Grumbling under your breath, you slip the Vodka back into its slot on the wall racks, while telling yourself you can’t drink on the job; trying to forget the face of the man that had been attached to hers before they’d stumbled to the back alley.

“Graham Whitaker, you’re such a five-cent sell-out,” you shake your head, sighing heavily into the air that smells like booze and sweat.

Graham Whitaker—your Ex in every sense.

You decided to tell your coworker, if she ever showed back up, that the only reason she was getting dicked-down was because it was that man’s plan to try and make you jealous. As if you’d be caught with your pants down over a prick that had cheated on you more times than you could count before you threw his ass out.

“Not my problem anymore,” your hands move to display themselves in a motion of a settled disagreement before wiping them on your black pants.

It was late now, of course, with the dart-drunk and his friends being the last patrons that you had to serve. But you’d been in this town a long, long time.

Sorrel the construction worker came in an hour, Miss Anna-Lee accompanying for her nightly Gin and Tonic before she talked about her late love from the seventies. From there it was three more regulars before closing activities and fighting to get up tomorrow by noon only to do it all over again.

Over and over and over.

You lean back on the counter and look across the brown wood and warm overhead lights, behind you, the illumination from the drink rack gives off a dead glow.

This was your workplace since you'd been of age, and over the years that seemed to drag, here is where you’d stayed. Nothing ever changed in this town—the biggest shock was when you’d broken up with Graham; people hadn’t stopped talking about it for months.

This place was like a prison of slow death and abandoned dreams. Safe to say this was not what you had envisioned for yourself.

You scoff, pushing off the back counter and snatching your rag back up before you can spiral once more.

The stains weren’t going to buff themselves out.

Maybe it was chance that the mechanics shop across the street had shut down, too few employees and too many drug busts. Chance, or fate, whichever it was you chose to believe in that still-air Sunday, it was still a shock to you when you looked out the front window as Sorrel called goodnight through his heavy accent.

‘SOLD’

“Sold?” Sorrel pauses with one foot out of the door, and he chuckles when he sees where you’re looking in shock, your hand holding a dirty glass.

“Haven’t heard, then? Few newcomers snuck in under our noses—they’ll be running the place; mechanics!”

“New?” You laugh. “Who in their right mind would come here of all places?”

Sorrel shakes his head, grumbling as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket. “You’ll just have to meet ‘em, Doll. Sure you’ll leave a glowing impression.”

“Take that shit outside, you ass. You know I hate the smell.” A smirk graces your dead eyes.

“Like I said. Glowing.” You glare, but the man slips out of the door quickly and his form passes by the window outside to climb into his truck parked in the street. Two honks from the horn and the older man is off, grizzly-like beard gone just like your boredness.

New arrivals?

You blink at the blackened shadows of the street, illuminated by the lights and their tall tree-like bases—the sway of the planted bushes in the boxes outside. Your head tilts at the abyssal building that was once in working order.

It was a shitshow now, years of abandonment not giving it any helping hand regarding upkeep. The concrete was cracked, the garage door was hanging off of one side, and the front windows had been broken by your Ex’s buddies when they had gotten into a fight like the three-year-olds they were.

You hum lowly. A hard-chucked set of keys, you recalled. You’d seen it from here easily enough. Hadn't lied to Sheriff Russel when he’d come knocking, and, you suppose, that was why even now the immature posse still tried to scare you by following you home at night to this day.

As if everyone didn’t know where everyone else lived already.

But back to the current interest for the night.

“Let’s have a little look-see, then,” you breathe, knowing Miss Anna-Lee would be a good while away like always. You could chance five minutes—it was just across the street after all.

Shuffling outside, making sure to hold the door until it closes slowly, you step down the single step and stick your hands into your pockets. The night wasn’t hot or cold, simply there like a metaphorical cut on your palm; it wasn’t surprising the more you lived with it, but it still made your skin itch.

Feet padding, you cross the dead street and take in the long stretch of unkempt grass, stepping onto the broken curb as your shoes crunch broken glass. Long-gone cigarette butts are scattered here and there, the occasional stray bit of metal or trash. Your eyes shift slowly from one brick that makes up the frame to another, the peeling blue color that could use touching up.

The mural you had painted in middle school had faded a long time ago, just like the great expectations of going into an art career. The eyes of a great gray wolf are only a dark outline that you can’t help but stare at as if a cancer was growing in your brain, hidden behind the reach of green ivy.

Ripping your eyes away, you ignore the cry of tires from across the town and the pop of an exhaust pipe—the roar of either a car chase by the repeat offender Irene Chaney, or by some stupid kid related to Irene Chaney.

“She’s gonna wreck one of these days,” you breathe, looking down at your object of intention—the sold sign in all of its red and white glory.

Your hand snakes out and grabs the cheap plastic, stopping its swaying with a creak and a tilt of your head.

You just couldn’t understand it—who in their right mind would buy this place? The only thing it would be good as is rubble, at least then some rabbit could make its very dusty home here.

Sorrel had mentioned multiple people too.

“Must be up at the B&B then,” your voice carries over the space, the stars twinkling above you as a shadow stands at the end of the cracked driveway. Its hands are in its pockets, tall form bulky with the dark brown leather jacket around its intimidating form. You’re none the wiser, letting the sign drop as you put your hands to your hips. “They better not be fuckin’ dickheads—”

“Mind explainin’ to me why I came to get a drink and now I’m talkin’ to some Bird on my property?”

You startle, gasp peeling out of your lips as your head swivels as if attached to a string which, in turn, tracks back to the source of a heavy Manchester accent. Grass breaks under your feet, as the gravel of the tone makes you cringe. Your eyes lock on the man who looks like he just came back from a warzone.

The first thing you noticed was the balaclava and the skeleton detailing, of course, how could you not—the lower half was an inch below those October eyes of the deepest shade of brown you’d ever witnessed.

Your spine straightens in cautious surprise, hiding the way your hands had clenched as if ready to swing on your Ex if he so happened to be there instead of…this person.

“Excuse me?” You say, quickly, as if it was forced out instead of a scream. Your face pushes that stern expression back to your face as your throat clears out the hoarseness.

A covered head tilts with its small sliver of pale flesh visible to you—the strong bones of his nose bridge and hidden jawline. The bulk of large muscles and thighs spoke to hard labor, and his booted feet shifted below loose black cargo pants.

The mask alone caused you a hint of worry in those few seconds of fast study of this phantom’s anatomy.

He blinks at you slowly, raising the small corner of a dark brow from a respectable distance away.

“Said you’re trespassing, yeah?” Your face gains a sheen of heat, and you glance at your bar behind the stranger, at the bright burn of the lights.

Taking a stiff breath, your lips pull into a frown as you try to hide your embarrassment.

“Well…a holler would have been just fine.” A fake glare is put on. “What’s with sneaking up on a woman in the middle of the night? Are you some creep or something?”

Those dark eyes stay locked on yours, and for a moment you don’t know if you’ve encountered a statue or not because he doesn’t speak for a moment.

A puff of breath from his nose.

“You the bartender, then?” You motion to your nametag above your left breast and grunt. His gaze homes in before he simply says, “Good.”

Without another word, the man turns stiffly before he steadily begins making his way back to the bar; crossing the street with a swift check of the road. You watch him saunter off, jaw slackened and your cheeks hot. The span of his shoulder blades levels out as he rolls his shoulders.

Where did this guy even come from? The answer was simple, the bed and breakfast was only four buildings down and to the left. Guy must have come in for a late-night serenade with a bottle.

A quick glance is thrown back to the rundown property behind you before you growl and hurry after this individual who currently pushes open the faulty doors of your work. Jogging across the asphalt, you catch the thing right before it closes and slip inside with a puff of air and a shoved-down snap of a sarcastic ‘thanks’.

Yet, the man is already pulling back one of the bar stools and easing into it when you make it behind the counter. You study him yet again.

“You’re one of the new mechanics?” Brown-Eyes blinks at you.

Without missing a beat, he goes, “Bourbon—Kentucky.”

“I asked a question,” you cross your arms, not even for a moment looking away as the silence of the bar sneaks in around you and this strange creature. “Least you can do for a lady is answer it when you act like a damn cat and sneak up on her.”

“You were on my property.” This is leveled out through a grunt, and after a moment of staring, you scoff.

“I was curious about who had bought such a piece of junk. Guess I have my answer.” Your hand grabs the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, the amber liquid inside sloshing as you turn back and put it into the wood. There’s a fraction of a dead tease that makes the man seem more human than he looks.

“Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?”

“I prefer a solar flair.” You comment dryly and set an engraved glass next to the bottle. Something flickers past the mechanic’s eyes, a quirk to the fabric of his balaclava.

“On The Rocks or Neat?” Your brow raises and you tilt your head.

“That even a bloody question? Neat.” You snort, splaying your hands before you grab the bottle as he watches you blankly.

“Sorry, it's kind of my job to ask.” Your hand shifts and you pour a reasonable amount into the glass, knowing exactly when to stop. As you shift the bottle away, you leave it on the bar top and gently push the beverage to him as his gloved fingers take it up. You repress a small smile at the matching bone gloves to go with the detailing on his balaclava.

“Bartenders always have this much attitude?” The glass is kept in front of his person, carefully held in his large grip.

Moving back, you go to lean on the back counter. This night was quickly taking an interesting turn. “Only if they’re me.” You sigh. “You have a name, then, Brown-Eyes?”

The individual snorts at the title, but his eyes narrow on you at the same time as if he was held hesitant at the ability for you to make him. He had an air of casual tension around him, like a dog on a thin leash that can only just manage to meet others and stay his fangs.

Danger, you pinpoint. The man felt like danger. A riptide; surface tension.

Then why was it that you felt more and more intrigued by the second?

“Simon Riley,” he eases, staring with those numb eyes of his before he tips the glass slightly your way. With the thumb on the same hand that holds the bourbon, he hooks it under his face covering and pulls it up until he can connect the glass to his lips and take down a sip as his Adam’s apple bobs in a swallow.

On the way back, his thumb drags the fabric back to its previous position as if nothing had happened. The image of pale skin and stubble sticks with you, and your eyes shift away quickly without you realizing it as the glass is returned to the counter.

“Well, Simon Riley,” you mutter, “welcome to nowhere.”

The man hums, eyes looking you over in a single glance before the gaze shifts to the wall behind your head. He says nothing, and the door opens to the next three familiar customers as you move to take their order. As you slip out from behind the barrier, you grumble under your breath before you slip past Simon to the corner booth.

“For the record, Riley, I do enjoy seein’ that old place getting taken on. Don’t run it into the ground, would you? And if you need a fresh coat of paint, for the love of all things holy, don’t go down to the Schafersons’ place, you come right to me.”

Walking casually, you greet the three ladies from the downtown library with a smirk and an easy comment about if their husbands knew they were out so late, to which you promptly got cursed out on good faith. Sharing a few chuckles, you get them started on what they need, all the while feeling those brown orbs now following subtly from the side of their sockets, intrigued.

Simon wasn’t sure what to make of you, and the same could be said about this town as a whole. A woman with such a future trapped behind her eyes, adventure in her blood, why were you here in a place with nothing promised for it except dying businesses and old faces? This was a place where people came to hang up the coat, not try and rip it off of its peg.

The children born here with ambitions leave, that was the common denominator. Even Simon could see that. But you? Here you were.

The man peels his eyes away, taking up his glass again and re-hooking his thumb to his mask. Amber liquid seeps into his mouth, pulling the scars on his lips and cheeks as he swallows it down as easily as water. The bourbon pools in his stomach, sending its honied effects to the back of his mind; it would take much more to get drunk, but that wasn’t what Simon was looking for.

Perhaps he was just out tonight wondering why he’d left the military for a mechanic’s job and come out here—asking anything for a sign that this was the right decision even as his head echoed with the screams and the gunfire.

And then he’d seen you standing in front of the fuckin’ worst mechanics shop he’d ever seen that he’d signed the property deed for not three hours ago. Hell, he hadn’t even looked at the place before buying it—Price was responsible for the official financial actions, and the man had made him swear that it was worth it.

But fuck, he’d just needed a way out of the city. Too loud, too unpredictable in that previous shop of theirs right by the busy street. MacTavish and Garrick had been easy to convince; they’d all served together before and had no family over here either.

A new start thousands upon thousands of miles away.

Your head pulls up from where you chat with the librarians, hearing the slam of the door as the draft wafts in from outside—a small breeze has picked up.

Inside walks in your very ruffled, and very well-pleased, coworker, Celina Bell.

She brushes down her top and black skirt, blinking around with blown pupils until her eyes lock on you. A poisonous smile meets your eyes as you raise a brow slowly—Lord, if this girl didn’t realize that fucking your Ex over some workplace squabble wasn’t something to be proud of, she was really a lost cause.

Simon only glances over his shoulder before turning back around and tapping his fingers against his glass absentmindedly.

“You alright?” You ask out of due diligence, sparing the ladies an apology look for them being interrupted.

“Better than alright,” Celina chuckles, walking over with a limp in her step. “Just scored Graham Whitaker.” She fake pauses, blinking as if in realization that a child would know was taking the piss. Your face is stuck in the expression of boredom. “Wait…you two were involved for a few years, right? Oh, I’m really sorry—I had no clue.”

“Yeah,” you look her up and down and blink at the disheveledness. “Sure. Quite the score.” A pause, her lips pulling back into that smug smirk that reminds you of a weasel. Yet your next words leave her face devoid of blood. “You know he got Chlamydia from Stacy Green a week ago, right?”

A pin could be heard dropping. Brown eyes are firmly stuck to the scene, unsure what to make of it. The ladies stifle their laughter.

“...W-what?”

“Y’know,” you motion a hand to her lower body, walking past her back to the bar. “STD. Chlamydia. Results in—”

“I know what the fuck an STD is, you bitch.”

“Woah,” you whistle, “language.” Your body returns to the counter as loud stuttering is left behind you, the frantic patting of a pocket to look for a phone before enraged feet rush to the exit. “Need a refill, Riley?”

“It can wait,” Simon utters slowly. The door slams shut.

You chuckle, shrugging. “Alright, suit yourself.”

The man takes the names you drop and files them away, slotting them into his mental database for when he needs to work with these people. Yet, there’s already a sour impression just off of comments alone. Who better to get your news from than a bartender?

You know everyone's dirty little secrets.

You diligently serve the drinks to the librarians, placing them down carefully before Simon once more has a re-filled glass of his drink. He moves it slightly up in a cheer and gives you a stare as you wipe your hands with a clean rag.

“Seems you know everything ‘round ‘ere.” His accent is what draws you in, and you find yourself eager to hear more from him.

“I’m easy to talk to,” you respond, shrugging and leaning on the counter a foot or two away as you both watch the other. A smirk overtakes your features. “And I am the one that gives people the drinks.”

“So, what I’m hearing,” Simon raises a brow. “Is that you get ‘em dunker than a man on his execution date.”

You click your tongue, tilting your head in a teasing manner while maintaining a serious face.

“Afraid you’ll spill your secrets, Riley?”

His eyes flash at you, and his lips flicker into a smirk you can hear in his voice.

“It’ll take more than two glasses of Bourbon to get me talking, Sunshine.”

Your face shifts away, but the sudden fight with a smile leaves you nearly breathless.

Who is this man?

“Why are you here,” your question meets his ears as he takes back the last of his drink, stomach filled for the night and his searching, for the moment, abated.

The glass meets the bar top.

He grunts. “Needed a drink.”

Your lips pull in annoyance. “You know what I mean. You’re terrible at answering questions.”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble, shaking your head as a low chuckle makes your insides swirl.

A stack of bills is placed on the counter, and the man stands, grabbing the hood of his black sweatshirt and pulling it up. His gloved hands go to the pockets of his leather jacket with a roll of his wide shoulders. From under the hood, the white of the painted mask glares out from under the shadows that now shroud him.

You both sneak a glance at the mechanic's shop—a clear view from the front window.

“See you around, then?” Your head is tilted at him, blinking. You hum under your breath. “I’m going to keep asking you why you showed up in this town, Riley, and I won’t stop until I get an answer.”

Simon quirks a brow, eyes glinting with interest. When was the last time someone had spoken to him like this outside of his boys?

“Look forward to it,” he utters slowly. With a blink and one more dead look, he’s already out the front door and walking back down the street—disappearing like a ghost the same way he had appeared.

Picking up his cash and counting through it, the librarians across the way snicker, and one calls out, “So, the new mechanic, huh?”

“One more peep and I’m doubling your tab.”

But…you did have to admit, he had been charming…hadn’t he? At least someone here could juggle your attitude.

—

Three days pass with no sighting of Simon Riley, but just because you didn’t see him doesn’t mean you weren’t witness to his aftermath.

The shop across the street was practically fixed up while you were asleep.

Where there had been overgrown grass, there was now a cut lawn getting watered by the reach of an angry sprinkler. The fast movement of the spray reaches the sidewalk that was, somehow, still there under all that trash hiding away like a criminal. Stray bricks are gone and stacked into a pile as you pause outside the bar, staring wide-eyed with your breath caught in your throat in the late morning air.

The ivy over your mural was peeled back—that faded wolf’s gaze locking with yours, unyielding to the calls of time as its canid body stool as a silent sentinel.

But, on the third day, as you’re going on break before the night sets in, you manage to not only see Simon again but meet two of the other men who’d moved here.

You pick up your feet and jog across the street, hopping the curb as you blink, impressed at the open garage with its fixed and oiled bay door. Inside it was still dusty—remnants of what was left behind in the corners and scattered. But it was getting there. Quickly.

“Didn’t know Simon was goin’ to sign on such a piece of rusted shite—where’s the fuckin’ outlets?” Gritted Scottish. You stick your hands into your pockets and enter the large opening.

“If I remember,” you speak, finding the two men standing slightly off to the side as the bulkier one with a mohawk carries a series of extension cords. Cobalt and brown eyes dart to you in shock—the second man of darker complexion sharing a glance with the other in swift confusion. “When you manage to find them, they’ll all be burst.”

Blank stares are sent your way.

“Kids would come by and watch ‘em spark when they were bored. No one really cared enough to stop them.” A clearing of a throat meets your ears as you study the room more.

It was small, with only one main garage for all the repairs, but that wasn’t new to you. The motorcycles were, though.

Five in total all parked and resting next to one another near the back wall, all in varying shades of black and gray. Your lips twitch at the sight, imagining your late-night acquaintance riding one of them—you dare say that it fit him quite well, and you weren’t that surprised at all by this.

Biker mechanics. It fits the script.

“Who’s this then?” The Scot asks you, raising a brow as a friendly smirk pulls his mouth up. “Can’t remember bookin’ any repairs today, Ma’am, might have to wait a few more days before we get it all up and runnin’.”

“I can see. No, I work just across the street,” you spare a friendly smile.

“So you’re the bartender? The bartender.” The second man speaks, grinning kindly as he searches through a toolbox on a small table. He hums, looking playful. “So that’s why Ghost was gone so long.”

Ghost…? Did they mean Simon?

The skeletal accents suddenly make far more sense.

“Johnny MacTavish,” A hand is leveled out ahead of you, and you take it casually with a muttering of your own name. “Soap’s just fine as well.”

Your brow quirks, but you only share an amused nod.

The other individual stands and makes his way over, tall and leaner as to where Soap’s more blatant strength is.

“Kyle Garrick—Gaz. Pleasure.”

“Just came over to introduce myself,” your hand shifts back into your pockets as you motion with your head back to the bar. “I’m on my break.”

“Ah,” Soap’s hands move the cables he holds as he loops them into a more storable shape vertically around his elbow and palm. “Last one to meet then is Price—man’s in town gettin’ lunch for us,” he grunts under his breath. “Hopefully a damn set of zip-ties, too.”

“Zip-ties, Mate?” Gaz breathes a chuckle with a fix of the backward ball cap on his head. “C-4 would bloody help more. At least then we can have a clean starting point.”

“I think we’re fresh out of C-4, unfortunately,” you huff a laugh, motioning around as the men smirk at you, Johnny snorting a chuckle. “You guys have done a pretty good job so far. I can’t remember when it looked this nice in here.”

“Well, we’re honored, Bonnie,” Soap tilts his head as he ties off the cord with one of the ends. “Makin’ me blush.”

“If Simon had just looked at the place before buying it, we might have been able to open sooner.” Gaz huffs, thinning his lips as he glances over the broken window and the peeling paint—the door to the main lobby that has a punched dent in it. “Couldn’t be worse.”

“Well then it can only get better,” you breathe, shrugging.

Gaz huffs affectionately. “Not wrong there, then.”

You lean forward, tilting your head. “You’ll find I rarely am.”

“Second time you’ve snuck on,” a Manchester accent scares you once more, head snapping to the side as the light spills in from the garage opening. “This a pattern, Sunshine?”

Simon’s brows are raised as those October eyes lock with yours. Gaz and Soap share a look, smirking before the Scot peels off to find a place to store his belongings.

“Where have you been?” Gaz asks as you glare at the masked man for once again coming up behind you.

A bag is presented, leaning off three fingers as a glance gets thrown past you.

“Down the street. Needed these made.” The bag is tossed and Kyle catches it easily.

You watch as the crinkly plastic is opened and the dark fabric of four black pairs of overalls is produced, each embroidered with their respective names.

“What’s wrong with the old ones?” Johnny pipes up, brows furrowed.

“Looks like you got fuckin’ mugged in ‘em.” Simon slides his attention back to you as Johnny curses with a glint of amusement in his blues.

“Aren’t open yet.” Your face peels back to a stiff annoyance.

“I can see that, Riley.” You motion to the other men. “I was being polite.”

He grunts while walking past, muttering through a brief smirk, “Doubt that.”

Your jaw slackens, but you only growl and hold your tongue as you glance the mechanic over. He still had his leather jacket, but a loose shirt took the place of a hoodie.

“You ready to answer my question?” Simon locks those eyes with yours from over his shoulder before sliding up to the black form of one of the motorcycles.

Visible to the naked eye, you take in the lack of fairings around the frame—eyeing the pure black metal of the entire engine from any angle that you might move to you’d still be able to see. It was nice. Perfect, even; damn expensive too. While the thought was enticing, you can’t imagine Simon riding it—he seemed more rugged, more…classy.

“Negative.” You roll your eyes, but Soap speaks before you can retort.

“Finally takin’ out the CB1000R, Ghost? ‘Bout time.” The brute throws a blank look at the Scot as Gaz utters to you a few feet away before a casual ‘no’ is leveled out through the space.

“He got it months ago,” Kyle’s eyes crinkle. “Can’t seem to take it out for a ride yet. No one knows what he’s waiting on.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” your words confide. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was a fucking fortune—no use collecting dust is what I say.” You hum, shifting back to Simon who taps the seat of the CB1000R before moving past it to an older cruiser with dents and dirt along the sides. This was more him you thought. Rugged and more dated than the first; something you use on long rides to nowhere.

“Maybe he’s just waiting for a special occasion,” you guess.

“Better get on with it.” Gaz moves away with a shrug and a huff.

Your lips pull in a small smile, and you watch Simon pull keys from his jacket and insert them as he moves to straddle the larger body of the cruiser, easing into it slowly. Staring, you think about how far that bike could take you—what you could see with it on the open road of possibilities and whipping air. Where would you go? Anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere.

Eyes shifting away from the motorcycle, they widen as they softly meet Simon’s own—locked for a moment in a staring contest. His lids barely pull down, studying something. You clear your throat and exhale.

Sensing your company was most likely a hindrance at this point, you turn to leave as the engine flares—you wave easily behind your back with a call of well-wishes.

“Come have a drink one time, boys, yeah? I need stories that come from strangers for once.” A ruckus of ‘affirmatives’ and ‘will do, Ma’ams’ sparks up from Johnny and Kyle as you exit to the roar of the motorcycle behind you, your feet kicking a stray rock into the grass before you make it to the curb.

Before you can cross, a steel body blocks your path.

“I’ll be needing a drink later tonight, then.” Simon watches from atop his seat, one booted foot to the ground to steady himself as he comes to a slow halt. His fingers curl the handles, twitching.

“Let me guess,” you tilt your head, smirking, “Bourbon?”

“A woman after my own heart,” he draws numbly, October browns as dead as mulch. As dead as dirt.

“And do you have a heart, Simon Riley?” You question, blinking at him as your mind tells you to walk away. Your brain doesn’t need a repeat of Graham—you already had enough problems on your plate right now besides some attraction to this stranger. This push and pull made your heart jerk, even when you know it shouldn’t.

You’d only just met him.

The man hums, thighs shifting on the black metal frame. He says the easiest answer he can.

“A cold one.”

Pushing on the ground, he takes off down the road back into the main town for whatever errand he was on this time. Your eyes follow until the figure is no more than a memory of the smell of oil and the metallic tinge of caution.

—

You hated the smell of cigarette smoke.

Like a pregnant woman’s aversion to the scent of meat, you grew nauseous at the very hint of cheap tobacco and paper on the air—loathed the burn of it. It had to do with your Ex, of course. The man had been a habitual chain smoker, lighting up one after the other until you had to leave his house entirely to puke on the front lawn. If you thought about it hard enough, you could still taste the ash on your tongue from when he kissed you after lighting up.

But that was only one of the reasons you’d never moved in with him despite being together for years—the cheating was the other problem.

Girl after girl, broken promise after broken promise, you’d still held onto him as if he deserved it. Hell, all that Graham Whitaker deserved were the copious amounts of STDs he probably had after sleeping with as many women as he could to try and get back at you. You didn’t have ample reason to ban him from the bar—him or his loud-mouth friends, you should say—so the problem, like a bad rash, persisted. Cars following you after work and all.

But, the here, the now.

Simon had, in fact, come in for that drink that night—just as he had for the last week up until the grand opening of the boys’ shop. You’d both spoken throughout these encounters and formed some sarcastic and sly-looked bond that the other locals couldn’t understand. You had even learned about his military service.

The both of you were just…different, people said. No one else really argued with it.

You finally met John Price before the party that you’d heard from Simon that Soap and Gaz had been eager to host for the town—‘come meet the bastards that bought that old shitty building and see how they fixed it up all by themselves. You should come and give us your money.’

It was there that a proposal was offered.

“Simon says you told him to come to you about paint.” John was late thirties, keeping a well-trimmed beard with a mustache that was the same shade of brunette as his head of hair. Tall, as well as built, he had found you as you were closing up the bar early for the town-wide party, Celina having already slipped out.

You were dressed in a long skirt and a nice shirt for the occasion.

“John Price, I’d imagine,” you comment, stuffing your keys into your pocket as your purse hangs from your shoulder. A throaty grunt tells you all you need to know as you move down the step. “Yeah, I did say that. Do you need some?” You look over his shoulder to the still peeling color on the outside of the bricks as the men are dragging out folding chairs and long tables. There was the clatter of laughter and loud calls.

John’s blue eyes shift behind him, and he raises a brow slowly.

“Thinkin’ we’d just hire you,” a side-eye. “If you’d be interested.”

That was a surprise.

You begin walking across the street, the man beside you and awaiting your answer.

“Hire me?” Your voice asks, but you aren’t against the idea. “How do you know I’ll be any good at it,” you chuckle in question.

“Simon says he found your initials next to the mural—the wolf.” Your feet pause, stuttering for a second before you catch yourself. The blood on your face stops its circulation in shock. “Not a bad piece, then.” John grunts. “...Think you can do a skull and wings?”

So, you sat with your sketchbook in front of the wall, a portable camping chair below your bare feet as your legs folded under you. Your slip-on sneakers rest in the green grass, kicked off with a sigh. Blinking, the chatter and mumble from the party surround you in a sheen of community and calmness. You can pinpoint every voice, every story being re-told as if new news when it goes in one ear and out the other like a breeze on the wind.

Humming under your breath as the sun is low in the sky, you hear the silent feet still from over your shoulder. A smirk flickers your lips.

“Snooping, Riley?”

“My building.” He grumbles, “Seein’ what you plan to do to it.”

You snort, looking over your shoulder and smiling. “If I recall, you’re the one who took up my offer and told Price about it.”

Simon was dressed in cargos and a compression shirt pushed up to his elbows, the swell of his forearms on full display along with the scars and…tattoos. You blink at them, the swirl of black skulls and guns; barbed wire and dog tags—the dark images that fit him as his motorcycles did on his left limb. Brown eyes flicker from yours to the painted wolf.

“Good at that,” the man says, balaclava shifting.

Your expression slowly shifts to something far softer than you can remember it ever being; inside of your chest, your heart tightens.

“Thank you.”

He levels you, the corners of his eyes easing out of the numb nothingness to show something akin to shielded affection. Molten sunlight on the side of his face, making the color of his irises glow amber. Simon nods to your sketchbook, clearing his throat.

“I able to see it, then, or is it some secret?” You huff.

“Come here,” your hand motions, palm brushing away eraser shavings as your fingers get stained with graphite. The shadow comes closer, leaning over you as the scent of oil pools in your gut. You blink at the side visage, swiftly looking back down to your sketchbook as a slight wind ruffles your skirt.

“Price was talking about a skull with wings beside it—later on he made mention of a sword through the top.” While you explain the concept, you inadvertently study the tattoos on the flesh beside you, one scarred hand coming out to lightly grab the armrest of your chair as Simon leans even closer.

As your face begins burning, breath caught in your throat, he blinks down at the image as he looms, head tilting.

Simon breathes, chest rising and falling as his eyes go far off. You know the symbol means something, though you also have a good guess that it’s related to this group’s time in the service.

He hums, and you see his lips open, the rough grate of his vocal cords as he begins to form words for you.

“It’s—”

Your name is loudly called from across the way, both Simon’s and your heads snapping back as you both realize exactly how close you two have become. The stealing of the other’s warmth like wraiths of hidden longing ceases when you wrench your attention to the man you wished would leave you alone.

Graham raises the dark bottle of a cheap beer from the dollar store in your direction, walking over. Now, your Ex wasn’t anything spectacular, but even you had to admit it was the best you could do around here if you didn’t want to date men only five years from the grave. Graham was tall, strong, and heavy-willed like a bear. In the day hours, he worked as a farmhand down the way.

Your body tenses, eyes going tight. Simon sees.

“Who’s this,” he asks slowly, fingers twitching.

“Ex,” you mutter, grimacing. “He’s going to make a scene.”

Already gazes had started drifting over, conversations lapsing into mute silence as orbs shifted to three different individuals all stuck in the same storm.

Simon grunts, standing up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest, legs shifting below him and thighs trading weight. His moving leaves half of you kept firmly behind him and your eyes study his stance as you notice that fact. You blink, and feel something stir in your ribcage, blooming like a flower.

“Hey, Bartender!” Graham takes a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it as his fingers fumble over the neck of the bottle. “Though I’d seen you over here missing all the action. Nothing’s changed I see.”

Your face pulls in with disgust.

“Graham, you’re drunk. Go home.” It was true—his words were slurring, his limbs loose with drink. He smirks at you, taking a drag of his cancer stick and puffing it directly at you. Your hand snaps to your nose to try and cover the horrendous smell.

“Nah,” he breathes. “I’m here with Celina, see’s a pretty nice lookin’ broad don’t you think? Not as good of a fuck as you, but, hey, I take what I get.” His expression shifts to hidden anger and Simon takes a heavy step forward before he can finish the rest of his sentence, hands shifting to grasp his biceps harder. Those browns simmer with low ferality—a warning.

The air gets heavy.

“Pretty good little lie you spread about me gettin’ that shit from Stacy.”

“That was a lie?” You drawl lazily and watch your Ex’s eyes flash with rage. But he should know you don’t take shit from him anymore. “Oh,” your fingers tighten over your flesh and make you sound stuffy. “Maybe I heard wrong, you’re right. You don’t have Chlamydia.” You glare. “It was Gonorrhea, wasn’t it?”

“Bitch!” Graham barks, moving forward, but before anyone can realize it, Simon already has him shoved back with a stone-like push to your Ex’s chest.

“Not smart, Mate.” The former soldier utters, arms falling back to his sides. The party by this point had entirely halted in sharp gasps and bated breath.

Graham’s beer bottle shatters as it hits the ground, the grass not able to absorb the way it slams down to dirt. Your wide eyes stay stuck on Simon’s figure, who’s now entirely hiding your view of your Ex—the wide expansive back that shows the writhe of his shoulder blades and how his spine shifts under the tight shirt.

Your hand lowers from your face.

“What the fuck?!” Graham spits. “You made me drop my fucking drunk, man!”

“Be thankful that was all, yeah?” Simon’s dead voice is a cold chill on a winter evening. Any sane person would turn and leave immediately. “Cut your losses.”

No one breaths for a long minute, and you can see the other new mechanics inching closer from the sides. All of the locals are deep into the scene, fingers to their lips in surprise. There’s going to be talk tomorrow—the bar will be busy.

“Graham,” you try to sway the pig-headed man once more from behind Simon. “Go home.”

“So this is what I get,” your Ex spits, head trying to peek over the larger man’s frame to look at you. Simon’s hands clench into tight fists. “I’m with you for years and this is how you treat me? I gave you everything!”

“Those are years that I never want to think about again,” you say with a stiff finality. “And it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever see me worrying about where you are or who you fuck.”

Knowing that the situation is over and done with, Simon takes a single step forward and leans into the man.

“You heard ‘er,” he levels, unblinking. “Scatter.” Simon’s accent made it sound more like a threat, but maybe it was.

Graham growls and takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring Simon down.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” But all he does is turn sharply on his heel and stomp away, crossing the street to his truck before he opens and closes the door with a violent slam. From across the way, Celina gasps and calls his name, but the engine has already started and Graham is down the road with a roar from the exhaust.

Everyone is watching you and Simon, and the staring peels back your skin until Simon grumbles and grabs your arm.

Blinking in shock, he only gives you a moment to steady yourself and slip on your shoes before he drags you inside the garage. You huff and look up at him as you close your sketchbook–trying to not look at those tattoos again. Your finger wanted to trace them—to study the ink down to the layer of skin where it ended and became red flesh and weeping veins. How far up his left arm did they go? Did they only stay at his forearm, or up to his shoulder?

Inside he lets you go, head slightly tilted to the outside as the sounds of hushed whispering pick back up; hurried and filled with electricity. Simon grunts, blinking.

A heated silence encompasses the two of you, and as your eyes lock, neither can speak for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” you glance at your feet. “Should have guessed he’d show up and do something.”

“Don’t apologize,” Simon crosses his arms again, boots righting themselves. “That’s not your fault that some bastard can’t act right, yeah? Forget about it, it’s all nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have to be involved—”

“Bloody cut it out, would you?” Simon glares, brows pulling in. “I said it’s nothing.”

He was very passionate about this, it seemed.

You sigh, shaking your head before a tiny chuckle makes the mechanic blink in confusion. “Suppose I can call you my guard dog now, huh?”

“Piss off,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand while your eyes narrow down. Simon's own crinkle along the edges, lowering his hands to push them into his pockets.

A second leads into another, but neither of you has any particular interest in re-joining the others, even if Soap is smugly passing looks and Price smirks into his drink. Gaz fixes his hat while he tips back a beer bottle, hiding a glint of amusement.

Simon’s voice lowers, seeming to hover closer.

“You alright, then?” You nod, face heating up as you stare at his shadow-tainted visage and how the face-covering obscured him from your eager eyes.

“I’m used to his drama. I have no problem giving it back.” Simon hums, October browns glinting like Halloween lights.

“Seems so.” He pauses, and pushes out a joking, “Not surprised, Sunshine.”

“Good, Brown-Eyes,” you lean back on your heels and smirk. “I’d be offended if you were, with all we’ve been talking to one another.”

“Getting familiar, Bartender?”

“Of course, Mechanic. Haven’t you heard?” He tilts his head, prodding you on as his eyes soften that candle-like smidge. “I keep everyone’s secrets—and you still have to tell me yours.”

Simon chuffs a low chuckle, and the fabric of his mask pulls as he shakes his skull. “Maybe one day, yeah? Need to stick ‘round to know ‘em.”

Then perhaps this town was worth wasting away in.

—

“Bastard won’t cause any problems, will he?”

“No, no, he’s too much of a coward to try and get back at anyone. He won’t do anything.”

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @aldis-nuts, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

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pxtched · 2 months

Note

Responding to the requests request! I’m TERRIBLE at requests but you mentioned nerd!miguel and I’m a SLUT for dry humping. You can take the plot with your talented writing brain

NEED. - NSFW - NERD!MIGUEL X QUEENBEE!READER.

tags - fluffy smut, established relationship, afab!reader, Sub!miguel softdom!reader.

cw - dry humping , semi-male masterbation , Cumming in pants.

a/n - new layout, omggg?!? And thank you anon, my motivation hasn’t been the best so it might not be good though I added some stuff, hope it’s to your liking mwah 😽 i DID NOT MEAN TO POST THIS THIS LATE IM SO TIRED IM SORRY YALL

You and Miguel have been hanging around…secretly. You obviously can’t have your reputation ruined! What would people think? Seeing a popular person like you hanging around with a nerdy-nobody.

Though, you have been hanging around with Miguel more just not all the way. He sits at your booth next to you in lunch, one of your hands and his hands holding each other lovingly.

You can’t help but love him everyday. Yes, maybe at first you hated him and literally was disgusted of him…but you grown to love him. You feel shitty on how you treated him before but you’ll never say it.

Enough about the past, You and him are now in your booth. You’re gossiping with your friends about some girl, while he’s just doing your work and his. His eyes focusing on the work and also on you.

He’s holding your hand under the table as he works. He smiles as he hears you laughter, he wants to laugh with you and kiss your cheek. But since both of you guys are in public and he knows your reputation, so he just squeezed your hand gently with a soft smile on his face.

You look at him and smile, and when no one was paying attention you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek which made him blush and smile like an idiot.

It’s pathetic that a simple kiss can give him this effect but can he blame himself? It’s you, you’re his secret girlfriend! He adores you deeply and you do too. He just wants to go to your dorm and be with you, not with your friends.

Then after that, You were talking with MORE friends. He wants you and you, he immediately waits for you to be done talking. The growing need for you increasing every minute.

He follows you to your classroom and watches you leave, then he turns to his. He sits through his lecture, until he gets a text message from you. You sent him a text. “Hey miggy imma be with my friends for a while, not for long!!”

He frowns and puts his phone away, now he’s going to be alone for couple more hours? This isn’t making him feel better, it just makes him want you more.

When the day was over, he went to your dorm and went inside. He expected you to be there but quickly realized that your going to be gone for 30 minutes, maybe an hour?

He whines and closes the door, his nose is filled with your scent and it won’t leave him alone. It just drives him crazy. He has to deal with this, try his best too. He goes to your bed and sits down, he puts his hand down his pants to finally free his aching cock.

He bites his bottom lip as he puts his hand on his cock and starts moving slowly, thinking it’s your hand instead of his. He closes his eyes and think of you. He misses you so badly. He wants—no—he needs you.

He starts to go faster as he lets out whimpers, fuck. It isn’t working, it’s just making it worst. It’s like his own body is trying to edge himself! he can’t come without you, he needs you.

He stops and sighs, his face flushed as he puts his dick back in his pants and goes to the bathroom to wash his hands. He just has to be patient, he can do that. He done it before and he can do it again.

After 20 minutes you came back, he was doing some work on your desk to distract himself. You see him and smile. You close the door and kiss him on the cheek “missed you miggy” you say softly as you walk to your bed and change into more comfortable clothes.

He couldn’t help himself and watch you change into a t-shirt and some shorts, you noticed and giggle “like what you see?” You teased him and he blushed and turns his head away which makes you laugh.

You lay down on your stomach on your bed as you pull up your phone and scroll on TikTok, bored and have nothing else to do.

He gets up from the chair and walks to you, he gets on the bed and lay on you. His head in your neck as he closes his eyes and take in your scent. You think nothing of it and smile at him, but your eyes widen as you feel him slowly grinding on you. His hips rolling as his clothed dick grinds on your ass.

“Need you so badly baby, couldn’t come without you” he whimpers out as he kept on humping you. You let out a whimper as he increases his pace. “Fuck—love you so much” “love you, so much” he mumbles as he gives sloppy on your jawline and neck.

“Wait honey, let me turn around” you say as he backs off to give you room to do so. Once your on your back, you give him a smile and a nod to continue. His eyes widen as he smiled like he’s on cloud 9.

“Thank you, Thank you, thank you” he repeats as he aligns his clothes cock on your clothed pussy, “Te quiero, tanta mierda cariño” he says and you kiss him “love you too, but shush” you tell him and he chuckles.

He nods and started rolling his hips, feeling his tip hit your clit makes both of you moan. He bites his bottom lip to suppress his moans but he couldn’t, he lets out pathetic moans as he moves his hips faster.

Your legs wraps around his hips as you pull him into a deep, sloppy but passionate kiss. You moan in the kiss as he humps harder. His thrusts become sloppy and frantically as he lets out more moans and whimpers, your moans become high pitched as you feel the familiar knot in your core about to snap.

“I’m-im close Miguel!” You moan out as your face becomes warmer, he moans out “me too, come with me please” he says as he looks in your eyes, his glasses almost falling off of his face.

You kiss him sloppy as you came in your panties, he does the same as he comes in his underwear. He slumps on top of you, regaining his breath. You smiled and brush his hair with your fingers.

“Sorry for leaving you alone” you apologized as you kissed his jawline, he smiled back and responds “it’s okay, thank you so much.” He gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

You giggle and kiss him back. “Love you, you big dork.”

“Love you too mi alma.”

After a comforting silence, you Pat his shoulder to get his attention “let’s take a shower and let me change my sheets then we can cuddle.” He smiled and nodded as he gets up.

He loves you deeply, and you do too.

🏷️ - @lxverrings , @luvrxbunny , @luxbub , @safixiovi , @syler-griffin , @jadeloverxd , @rxckstarss , @namorkawaiiwife

master-list , rules/guidelines , abt me!

Reblogs and comments help a lot, thank you for reading!

#𝑷𝑿𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺.#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months

Text

The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you.

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long.

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule.

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them.

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists.

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal.

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace.

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt.

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away.

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder.

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still.

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea.

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh?

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert.

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering.

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you.

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm.

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all.

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help?

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move.

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain.

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head.

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you.

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters.

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag.

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture.

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him.

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture.

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over.

Huh? What?

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were.

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away.

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement.

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

#commissions #hes a sneaky boy that one #not sneaky enough to not get stuck though apparently #calmest and nicest wild orca sans interaction

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answer2jeff · 4 months

Text

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader smut #oh my god he's so hot i cant #makeup sex trope #i need him biblically #lip gallagher x you #proud lip gallagher apologist #my man my man my man #hope y'all enjoy #idk what this is tbh

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 6 months

Note

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet.

Anyway, on to the ask!

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TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

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🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion:

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship.

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive.

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else.

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of.

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer.

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other.

Halsin:

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change.

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic. He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest.

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more.

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves.

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered.

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later.

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close.

Wyll:

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them.

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’.

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them.

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train.

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance.

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate.

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

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💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

#astarion x tav #halsin x tav #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #bg3 imagine #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #hc #bg3

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astrologydayz · 6 months

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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES - SYNASTRY

Man's Mars square a woman's Venus/Klett asteroid- 2199 can show us that the man will have "problems" at 1st with "getting it in", because the woman is 2tight/he's 2big🍆. He’ll HAVE to get her REALLY wet in the beginning🏄‍♂️, and even after that, it will still take some time before it starts "2fit", without hurting. Woman's Sun conjunct a man's Mars shows us that the man will be turned on by the woman's conscious persona/how her ego represents herself. He can get off by the woman talking about herself2/being "Self absorbed"💅🏼.

Man's Moon square a woman's Venus/Klett asteroid - 2199 can show us that the man cannot "satisfy the woman's sexual needs/desires. He will not pick up on what the woman needs to be pleased/pleasured🆘.

Man's Mars square a woman's Uranus shows us that the man wants the woman to "try out" his sexual fantasies, but the woman will end up blowing up/ghosting him after some time, because she really doesn't want to do em, but does them anyway. She will be willing to try all these different things, but will end up crossing her own boundaries 2satisfy him🙄😑. That’s when she’ll “blow up”/or “disappear”, without a word.

Lust asteroid - 4386 square North Node/South Node = The lust person's desires/sexual fantasies are meant to create friction when it comes to the Node person's "path in this life&Karma - NN"/safe space&Karma- SN". It creates tensions, because they do not fit each other. Karma “being served” to Node person, from a past life. No matter what the lust persons fantasies are = it will always feel wrong to Node person, but it’s something they have 2 go through with Lust person, because of karma. They'll always have problems, when it comes 2 the lust persons sexual needs. Node person will always have alarm bells ringing🔔.

BML SQUARE JUPITER = Can cause the JUPITER PERSON 2 GIVE SEXUAL DISEASES 2 LILITH PERSON!! I've seen it many times, &Jupiter doesn't own up 2 it 90% of the time😵‍💫 .

Man's Sun conjunct a woman's Lilith asteroid - 1181 = he taught her how2 fuck/how to please him sexually, but he also gave her sexual trauma while “teaching her” 💔. Mars conjunct/trine/sextile Neptune = sex on drugs. Being high/drunk together while doing sexual activities🍁🥃.

A man's Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct a woman's Fama asteroid - 408 = the woman will gossip about the mans dick quite literally - good or bad. She will talk about it openly to other people. They can also talk about it 2gether, the man and the woman but she WILL talk about to others2. Maybe not when they're 2gether, but she will after🥇🥈🥉. A woman's Klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct a man's Fama asteroid - 408 = exactly the same as above, just vice versa baby.

A man's Dick asteroid - 17458 conjunct/trine a woman's MC = everyone that "knows her/hears about her" will know she's fucking him/has been with him sexually - could be anything sexual tho, it just have to be something regarding his dick obv🍌🤗. can also show a "public work relationship" ofc, if u get what i mean📹💰.

A woman's klett asteroid - 2199 conjunct/trine a man's MC = same as above, just vice versa again💜.

Cumming asteroid - 14348 conjunct Vertex = the asteroid person will give the Vertex person an otherworldly orgasmn/or multiple🥇. Fated indeed🫦.

Lust asteroid - 4386 conjunct Webb asteroid - 3041 = Lust person is sexually attracted 2 the webb persons persona/photos/videos online. If lust person sees webb person online at 1st, without knowing them = they will be immediately sexually attracted2them. BUT it doesn't mean sexual attraction from Lust person 2 webb person in real life tho🧑🏻‍💻🎥📱.

A man's Lust asteroid - 4386 conjunct/trine a woman's Black Moon Lilith = the man is sexually attracted2 the woman because of the "freedom" she gives, and her openness about her sexuality. He's turned on by the way she stands in her power, and won't "give in". He’s also attracted to her because of her struggles/because of where&how she feels left outside alone🖤.

A man's Venus conjunct a woman's Klett asteroid - 2199 = he's in love with her 😼, the way it looks, and the way it feels✌️💋 .

A woman's Venus conjunct a man's Dick asteroid - 17458 = same as above, just vice versa💜.

THANK U SO MUCH4READING LOVE, I APPRECIATE U🖤

U can always message me❤️

#astro community #astro observations #synastry #astrology #astro notes #astrology notes #asteroids #black moon lilith #venus #astrology observations

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venus-haze · 13 days

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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?”

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys soldier boy #the boys imagine #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #im a feminist i promise #but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?

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