#and Id rather wait and see how things play out once he moves

[llitchilitchi]

to preface this, this is not hate i just kept rambling bc i do feel strongly abt the matter, apologies and feel free to disregard if you'd rather not have discourse on your blog. kick was literally (co) founded by people who felt that twitch's policies and their enforcement against hate speech, slurs, etc (which aren't that great to begin with) were too restrictive. adin ross is a co-owner, or at least he has claimed as much and not been challenged by kick itself. that platform has a userbase that absolutely would harass the kind of people in sapnap's audience, so being in his chat or watching list really just puts a target on them/us. and kick's moderation tools are infamously poor. like yes, twitch needs to be toppled from its monopoly but not at the cost of giving a larger piece of the proverbial pie to kick of all places. twitch's leadership is interested in profit at the expense of their employees and users both, and they have no interest in protecting or empowering marginalized creators or users. it's shit, but it's ultimately a matter of them not caring, while kick's leadership is actively hostile to marginalized people, and that is going to make a difference in what changes can be made at all. (and about amazon, kick still uses amazon servers and webservices for the actual streaming portion of their platform, so... ) finally, while i absolutely agree that the way twitch treats its streamers, including things like the revenue split, is horrid, quite a bit of sapnap's stated reasoning about things like twitch not offering him a contract (beyond regular partner i guess) or the ceo not knowing him, are kind of... not unreasonable when you look at how much he has actually USED twitch. he's had the sapnap account for years and only streamed three hundred odd hours, even if you add the alt streams it's... not that much. and most of all, it's never really been consistent. he may stream every day for like a week but then its months of nothing outside like, mcc. only going live for special events isn't going to net one a big contract, and there is only so far the fame of being one of the OG dsmp members will get you. i like sapnap, but i think if he truly believes kick's ceos making vague non-specific promises of "making the site better" he is being naive, because what they're looking for it most definitely just another "famous" name (big mcyt internet phenomenon or whatever) and title (nrg co-owner) they can use to advertise their site and legitimize it. going by his paste bin, they played at his ego, and because he felt slighted by twitch (not entirely unfairly given how twitch sucks in supporting and even just appreciating or fairly paying their creators), he took it. trying to migrate his fanbase over to a platform headed and controlled by people who actively hate the people making up most of that fanbase is, frankly, ludicrous. but kick doesn't need his viewers, they need his name, so why would they care? like yes, generally even founders can be replaced eventually, but in this case, these owners also own the crypto gambling bank thing that funds all of kick, so you can't really force them out unless or until the platform can carry itself - and the multiple other attempts at making twitch competitors kind proved that that is hard to achieve. they control the money, they control the platform, and if they want the platform to be a space where they and those like them can be as hateful and bigoted as they want, that's what it's going to be.

these are all very valid points, and I hope my response to this won't come off as a massive BUT in defense of kick

that platform sucks. that much is obvious, and if Ross is really the co-owner that's just all the more reason to feel unsafe to be there. I don't know nearly enough about all their policies and given everything that has been said about them I never really had much interest in looking into them further. it's just another site that is full of toxic hypermasc culture

I won't go and defend Sapnap's decision to move there, either, but I think there is a lot he is not telling us (be it because he is unsure or because of contracts) that made him feel that a move like this is worth it. he isn't stupid, he knows his fanbase is massive and consists of many marginalized groups, so if he thought that kick is better than twitch even with a massively queer and poc fanbase, he must have had his reasons. I doubt he didn't talk this through with Dream, George, his managers etc.

I also don't want to entirely y'know defend twitch with their policies. cause their policies regarding hate speech are absolutely shit. remember when they banned the word "simp"? because people didn't like it? but did absolutely nothing about all the sexual harrassment going on? yeah. I also want to add that my automod that twitch provides is sometimes more than unreliable and censored a regular for saying "long gay cat" in chat. loosening the restrictions will definitely cause damage to those who deserve to be protected the most, but the restrictions did little to protect them to begin with, in my experience.

from what I remember of early twitch it was pretty loose like kick is now. big names coming in might result in tightening policies, even if that comes off as wishful thinking. all platforms ended up doing so, sooner or later.

what I do find a little ridiculous is how people insist that the majority of the userbase of kick are the type to harass Sapnap's fans which, while true, should not matter as much as we make it out to be? I genuinely doubt that they will all immediately flock to Sapnap's channel and spam slurs in chat and be in such overwhelming numbers it will be unbearable. and if it was, and became a regular issue, Sapnap would definitely do something about it. unless the majority of their userbase is likely to open streams of chill people and then target every person in chat

I dunno, it's much ado about nothing so far, we only got an announcement and it's hard to judge how things will play out after the move. it's fair that streamers, especially with as big a following as Sapnap, want better deals out of twitch. I don't know about them but the affiliate deals are not that great and very far from fair. moving to kick might not be the best thing but honestly, what other choice is there other than maybe YouTube?

we're all panicking ahead of time as this fandom has a tendency to, so idk. let's all take a deep breath and see how things play out before jumping into conclusion. it's certainly gonna be a lot less bad than people insist, and worst case scenario I'm sure the vods will be reuploaded to YT by some good samaritan.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 24: Sex toys with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1448 Warnings: Video call sex, Masturbation, Sex toy use by Reader (Vibrator), Dirty talk. Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

You turned the silicon toy over in your hands as you looked at it, relatively small, only a half inch in diameter but long enough to easily reach everything inside you wanted it to.

“That’s a nice one. It’s the same color as the bullet you have too.” He noted with a teasing grin through the phone screen. “Pretty matching set.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled back at him. “Yes, because the color makes such a difference to how it feels.” You joked.

“Have you tried it yet?” He asked, sounding excited and some shifting on the screen shows he’s moving, probably laying back on his hotel bed.

“Not yet. Just got it yesterday, so I needed to wash and charge it…And I may have wanted to wait till my favorite audience of one could watch.” You answered, tilting your head coyly.

“Yeah? That where you hoped this call was going, Baby?” He asked, voice lowering to a seductive purr.

You and Eddie have been apart for going on three months while Corroded Coffin has been on tour, and it’s driving you both insane. You and their manager are currently in the process of planning to have you join them for a portion of the trip, but there’s logistics that have to be worked out first, like plane tickets and lodging.

“Are you saying you don’t want to watch me play with my new toy?” You asked, a showy faux pout on your lips.

“I never said that.” He countered quickly, as if to banish that thought from your mind posthaste.

His response pulled a chuckle from you. “That’s what I thought.”

He rolled his eyes at you but there was no heat to the action, or at least not the annoyed kind, there’s plenty of lust in those dark eyes staring back at you through the phone. “You gonna stop teasing me then? Been damn near giving that thing a handy since you picked it up…” He says, eyeing the vibrator still in your grasp, and to be fair, you had been more or less fondling it this whole time.

You grin and nod before reaching out and repositioning the phone to lean on a spare pillow on the bed so he could see better. From your end you see he does the same. You could already see he was shirtless when you answered the call, but after the change of position you could see he was only wearing a pair of black sweats.

You slipped your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, not in the mood to deal with the fabric getting in the way.

“God, I wish I was there to worship that perfect body…” Came Eddie’s heady voice, thick with lust just from seeing more of you.

“Wish you were here so I could suck that cock.” You answered before performing the awkward shuffle that is removing your pants while sitting on a bed, but once you had, they joined the pile on the floor.

Eddie was already palming himself through his pants as he looked at you, watching as you reached for the vibrator to pull it closer, before laying back against the pillows, knees bent and legs parted, giving him an unobstructed view of your cunt.

“Go on, Baby…Show me what your new toy can do…” He purred, eyes half-lidded and hotter than hell.

You clicked it on the lowest setting before lightly resting it over your clit, body jolting at the sudden sharp pleasure it sent zapping through you, a quiet gasp falling from your lips.

There was a shuffling sound on the phone and when you looked you found he had shoved his sweats down to his thighs, allowing you to see his hand wrapped around that thick cock. He wasn’t fully jacking himself off yet, but rather he was just grazing his hand up and down, a lighter stimulation like the way you were so lightly holding the vibrator to your clit.

“The camera deceiving me or are you already soaked…?” He asked, eyes locked on where pretty pink met magenta.

You let out a soft chuckle. “I started getting wet the moment I saw your caller ID…Think I’ve Pavlov-ed myself to get turned on every time you call…” You said jokingly but you were half serious.

“That’s fucking hot.” He breathed a chuckle of his own. “Give yourself a little more…” He pointed with his chin at your hand, and you nodded.

Keeping the vibrations at the same level you pressed a little harder on your clit, another sharp gasp falling from your lips but you didn’t pull it away, instead you made tight little circles, making sure every nerve-ending got to feel it.

“S-Shit…I think…Think this might be my new f-favorite toy…” You whimpered, eyed screwing shut.

Maybe it was how pent up you’d been, or maybe it was just that ‘new toy feel’, but the pleasure felt heightened somehow, sharper and clearer, yet simultaneously not enough.

Recognizing your body’s ques even through a phone Eddie spoke up. “Turn it up a notch.” He ordered, and you didn’t have to open your eyes to be able to picture the look on his face, that commanding heat he sometimes got when he was really hot for you.

You did as told and this time the sound that punched out of you was a moan, high and needy. “Fuck! Eds…” You whimpered, wishing so much it was him making you feel this good.

“Christ, Sweetheart…Look at you, all flushed pink, and your poor pussy so wet and desperate…” He said with a teasing kind of pity, then there was the sound of him spitting into his hand, and a low moan.

You forced your eyes open and were gifted with the sight of his long neck as his head was thrown back and he was fisting his cock slowly, the tip was bright pink and glistening.

When his gaze returned to you, he looked damn near feral with the way his bang hung just a bit over his hazy eyes, but even through that haziness there was a sharpness, a predatory glint that made your cunt clench around nothing.

Your reaction must have been visible because a grin that matched the rest of that look spread over his face. “Maybe you should stop neglecting that sweet pussy, Sweetheart…She looks awful lonely.” He sounds both clear as a bell and ragged at the same time and it made your belly flipflop.

As if moving on its own your other hand drifted down to your entrance, where you teased yourself with two fingers for only a second before pressing in all the way, then you curled them at just the right angle, recalling how Eddie had showed you to find that elusive sweet spot on your own.

The whole time those brown eyes watched you, looking nearly pitch black on the screen. His hand never stopped, even as his breath grew quicker.

Yours was doing the same as you moved your fingers and the vibrator in tandem with his hand, that tight knot forming in your belly faster and faster telling you that this would be one hell of an orgasm.

Whimpers and gasps quickly turned into moans and cries that melded with the filthy sounds your pussy was making, the sound of his breathing and the wet sounds of his hand would almost be too quiet if you hadn’t turned the volume up on your phone before answering the call.

“God…Eds, close…So close…” You pleaded, earning a low groan in response.

“Let me see you cum, Baby…Let me watch you fall apart…” He growled, clearly close to his own end.

Your back arched as your pussy clamped down on your fingers, legs shaking and half-finished moans of his name on your tongue.

You heard his responding gasp less than a second later and forced your eyes open just in time to watch white spurts of cum shoot from his cock, making a mess on his belly, the head now bright red and swollen as he kept moving his hand to ride it out, the vibrator held to your clit doing the same for you.

Once it started to feel like too much you pulled away and turned it off, making the only sounds in the room you and Eddie’s heavy breathing.

“Christ, Sweetheart…That was…Fuck…I can’t wait to get home so I can fuck you into the mattress…” He panted, a wide grin on his spent face.

“We’ll be together again before you know it…” You promised, little did he know it would much sooner than the end of the tour.

[lovesthecure]

God, I'm stressed.

The puppy we're trying to get might've been a scam? His mother is the one in touch with them, and she hasn't updated us since last night. They kept piling on more costs, the puppy itself was only supposed to be 600. After promising us he'd be here soon, they keep piling on more...? Feels fishy as shit. I hope it isn't.

My step dad decided to go get laid, and not update me. No "okay, I'm leaving now" or anything. Ghosted me for an entire day, and then told me to somehow cook dinner faster. We had to clear out of the living area by the time he was done showering after he got home. Ignored my messages about needing soap and groceries. Didn't even feed or walk the dog.

I'm having dreams about my egg donor again. They say that when you dream of someone, it means they're thinking about you. I'd rather she didn't.

There's a potential client who just isn't getting back to me. I'm trying to not be pushy, but if I should save a slot for them... I kind of need to know that. Is that 80$ I should budget into things, or not?

I think "the ps5 incident" genuinely left something on top of the Christmas Trauma Pile. I keep sitting here convinced he's going to ignore the list to get something for himself again. My whole childhood I was bad at wanting things, and now that I finally want things: he ignores it for something he wanted. Ignores it for that. Maybe I just have a low opinion of the man, but I don't put it past him to do two years in a row.

His cat allergies didn't react to his crush's longhair cats. I doubt he even has the allergies--he spent a week with my grandparent's shorthairs with no trouble at all. Either way, apparently I can get a kitten now. It just has to be a longhair. He's not that conspiratorial, but I keep wondering if that's somehow a trap. Like he knows the grooming costs would be too high, aside from me grooming the cat myself. He's not that smart though. He just knows he's run out of excuses to say I can't have a cat, and can't be bothered to just say "no."

We can't move out fast enough, it feels. Then it's not his decision.

I have to sit at a table and play DND with him next week. I have to not complain and just keep playing. I'm glad his character is so interested in other characters that aren't mine. It means I can focus elsewhere too.

I hate that I can't complain. I have to sit there, complacent. I'm a doll waiting to have the string pulled, to go "it's fine," and be set back on the shelf. Maybe I'd feel less like that if he even attempted to put time into me. He couldn't even watch episode 1 of a show with me. He doesn't invite me on streams anymore. As much as I wouldn't want to be there anyway, it stings a little. My usefulness has been outlived.

But not really. He can feel like he "provides" for me. My mother-in-law worries all the time that he drinks more out of stress. That maybe he's stressed caring for my husband and I. Maybe if I had the energy I'd tell her how much he actively impedes me making progress as an adult. Either on purpose, accidentally, or sub-consciously. I'm 21. I don't even have an ID to bring to a restaurant to prove it. With no car or stable income of my own... I have to rely on him. What a fucking joke that is.

He's been neglecting me to some level since 16, but hey. At least he doesn't do half the shit my egg donor or grandmother did, huh?

Once the basement is done, my mother-in-law is letting us move in there. It'd be impossible to get a place of our own, even if my husband and I both worked full-time. Manageable rent from her, as she helps us get off our feet. I'm terrified. Almost as scared as I'd been waiting 2 ~ 3 years for my step father to update me on if I was even going to see a doctor or not for numerous health issues plaguing me. Almost.

It's just slightly easier.

At least it means things will go somewhere.

At least there, I will not stagnate the way I've been forced to here.

I feel kind of like a prisoner.

[chosonore]

infatuation

infatuation [noun. strong but not usually lasting feelings of love or attraction]

pairing: kamo choso/f!reader

summary: in a spurt of recklessness, you hire an escort to help you learn about relationships and intimacy. what you didn't expect was to fall in love with him along the way. [part of the kamo escorts collab]

wordcount: 23.3k

content/warnings: escorts au, slow burn, language, smut!!!, fluff, soft dom!choso, reader is very oblivious and painfully awkward, awkward firsts, dry humping, handjobs, oral sex (m + f receiving), fingering, uh somewhat public sex, loss of virginity, oral fixation, praise kink, lowercase is intended [VERY VERY UNEDITED]

a/n: hello here it is and finally done!!! i've been sitting at this for a week straight now and while i'm not super happy with it, it would've been a shame to just throw it out tbh. writing improvement is a slow progress after all! i'm dedicating this to @sukirichi who always hyped me up while i was writing this, happily welcomed me to the collab and who always supports my writing and i really appreciate it. thank you, from the bottom of my heart! (argh i have so many cut scenes that i ran out of space for dividers, sorry! hope the reading flow still makes sense though)

"that's what you were so worried about?" nobara looked at you incredulously, as if you grew two heads and asked for her firstborn. "you were scared that guys don't like you because you've never dated anyone?"

you let out an embarrassed whine, pushing at her arm in an attempt to get her to shut up. it wasn't your fault that she jumped to (multiple and very wrong) conclusions when you'd called her and maki, asking them to meet up so you could ask for advice. even maki looked mildly amused, patting your head apologetically. you were well aware of how ridiculous your issue sounds - the topic of dating had always made you anxious. you came from a very wealthy family that always sheltered and protected you from everything. you were their precious little girl after all; your father would rather drop dead than have you mingle with people who didn't treat you well and didn't deserve you. they meant well and it had never been an issue until you moved out to attend university (your parents had acted like you were leaving to travel the world and would never return, when really, you only moved two hours away from home).

even though nobara, maki and you had quickly become friends after you'd met at an event, you were wary to tell them about your background. it worried you, knowing how some people would treat you differently just to get on your good side and use you, so you opted to skirt around it as much as possible. it took you months until you opened up to them when you finally mustered up enough courage and trust to do so. they kept your secrets ever since, always protecting you and looking out for you. you were truly glad to be their friend. the two of them had grown suspicious when you kept declining their invites to join them for parties or to simply go to a bar and you were slowly starting to feel more and more guilty until you couldn't take it anymore and just confessed, asking them for advice.

"so that's why you're nervous even around inumaki," nobara concluded, propping her chin up in thought. "i didn't think your parents would be this protective. do they know that you want to start dating now?"

"no…" you confessed, fidgeting in your seat. "my dad, he um- he means well and usually has a good radar when he says that a guy doesn't deserve me. but i thought it was time to venture out on my own. it's good to have some experience, right?"

"i mean you're not wrong but i don't want you to be asking for advice simply because you feel pressured about dating since everyone else is doing it," maki retorted, giving you a concerned look.

you quickly shook your head. it wasn't that you felt pressured about not having any experience yet. you didn't necessarily want to admit to them that you were a hopeless romantic and liked the idea of being with someone; in the end, it was your own decision to venture. men made you nervous, you didn't know how to act around them and the thought of approaching a stranger by yourself was too scary. maybe it was a better idea to find someone to show you the ropes first, you felt embarrassed about your lack of knowledge and skills and - it wouldn't hurt to have some kind of dating training, right?

"i mean, technically, you could just ask one of the guys to take you out on a fake date. i'm sure megumi wouldn't mind," nobara was already pulling out her phone, making you grabbing her hand in panic and furiously shaking your head.

"i don't want to get them involved in this! it would make things pretty awkward and that's the last thing i would want. isn't there any other solution?" you explained quietly, playing with the hem of the dress. you felt bad for rejecting all their suggestions but you simply didn't want to be a burden to your other friends either.

"well," nobara and maki looked at each other grinning. "you could hire a fake boyfriend."

"really? you can hire tho-"

"escorts, y/n, escorts," nobara pushed her phone over to you, pointing on the screen. frowning, you read the little description. kamo escorts. you'd never thought about hiring someone, let alone knew enough about the topic. judging from nobara's face, she seemed to be well versed and it made you slightly suspicious.

"it's the easiest way for you and you have enough money to pay for their service. it's convenient, you can adjust it to your schedule and they'll send someone who fits your preferences. you choose the spot for your date and they'll make it happen, right? it's perfect and you don't have to worry about getting anyone involved," she explained, tapping at the bottom of the screen. "just give them a call, they'll walk you through the entire process. if you don't like it, you can find someone else or just abort mission."

"what do you mean they'll send someone who fits my preferences?" it did sound like an easy process, almost too easy. something was bound to go wrong, you could feel it. "i don't even know what my preferences are, so how could they possibly-"

"y/n, you might be blind but we are not," maki flicked your forehead playfully, she was more perceptive than you. "if you want, you can call them right now and we'll help you with the preferences, okay? maybe that'll ease your nerves a little."

"now?" you squeaked, eyes widening in horror. you weren't prepared at all; when you invited them over you were only planning to gather advice and then act on it.

"yeah! come on, it'll be fun and it's not like they can see your face," nobara grinned and was already dialing the number, moving away from you agilely before you could snatch the phone out of her hands. you wanted the earth to swallow you, why did they think that this was a good id-

"good evening, thank you for calling kamo escorts. my name is ijichi, how may i help you?" a male voice sounded from the phone, you instinctively dove behind the couch but maki was quicker and pulled you back with one fluid motion. curse her strength and speed.

"yes, hi, my friend here would like to hire an escort but she's too shy to do so, so we're helping her with the entire process. i hope you don't mind?"

"if it helps to ease the nerves, not at all."

nobars nudged you, holding the phone out. you pouted at her, shaking your head like a stubborn child. she rolled her eyes and pushed the phone into your hand forcefully, making you panic as you didn't want ijichi hearing your wrangling.

"um, yes, i- i'd like to hire someone but- ah nobara already mentioned that! it's for… for dates! i just need someone to go on dates with me."

"i see. is this a formal event?"

"n-no! i just need dating training of sorts, so casual is fine… if i do need to attend a formal event in the future, would that be a problem?"

"not at all, simply let us know when booking. our escorts are trained to be able to adapt to any situation and event, there is nothing you need to worry about, miss. do you have any specific preferences?"

"uh i-"

nobara leaned over your shoulder. "she prefers more mature guys! someone who's caring and attentive, someone who's not too outgoing and loud, it has to match her energy! since this is date training, there's probably going to be a lot of awkwardness so we'll need someone who is patient too. someone who can act like the best boyfriend to ever boyfriend. as for looks, i think she's fine with everything- although wait, maybe dark hair. yep, dark hair."

you couldn't believe her, she practically directed the entire call for you as if she'd made a plan beforehand, knowing that it would come to this. there was no doubt that she'd had this in mind, this was nobara after all. maki, on other hand, was watching you amused; she didn't usually engage in whatever shenanigans nobara was up to but she was always a bystander who very much enjoyed your reaction just now.

"miss, do you agree with the listed preferences?" ijichi asked after a moment of silence. you could hear him typing and occasionally scribbling on paper.

"yeah, yes, that's fine. is it possible to book him on weekends? i don't know if this is going to work out just yet so maybe once a week on fridays? i've never done this before so yeah."

"that is doable, yes. if you wish to engage in sexual relations, you may discuss it with your escort. these services come at an additional cost, of course."

"i don't-"

nobara interrupts you again, smirking at you cheekily. "it would be beneficial, so please take that into consideration when choosing the escort!"

"alright, thank you," ijichi went silent for a minute while he was organizing the files and schedules. "there are some possible candidates with whom i have to check with first. i will get back to you, should they agree to the job. after that we can exchange personal information and contacts so we can discuss the matter further."

"okay um. thank you, mr ijichi, i appreciate your help," you thanked him bashfully, giving him your number before thanking him again. you were already so deep in thought that you didn't even listen to his reply. now you've really gone and done it. were you crazy? what if your parents found out? they'd riot and be immensely disappointed in you. getting some dating experience through dating an escort, only nobara could ever come up with something like this.

"how do you feel?" maki inquired and rubbed your shoulders in concern, seeing how quiet you suddenly grew. weakly shrugging with your shoulders, you grasped the fabric of your shirt and nervously fiddled with it. the entire ordeal filled you with anxiety, a myriad of thoughts circling in your brain. it was the first time doing something "reckless" and it left you feeling nauseous.

"i'm not sure." you hesitated. "i'm curious to see how it goes but it just makes me really nervous. how do i act around him? and what if he finds me weird?"

"i don't think he's going to think you're weird just because you get nervous around guys. and besides, ijichi said he'd find the perfect guy for you, yeah? don't worry about it too much. if you don't feel comfortable after the first date, we'll figure something out."

"i guess so… um, but you guys don't mind accompanying me to it? just to make sure it's not some weird guy?" upon seeing your hopeful face, the two girls couldn't say no - of course not, you were their precious, innocent friend. as amusing as this situation was to them, they wanted nothing more than to support you and see you happy as well. you had already done a tiny step out of your little, sheltered world and much more was to come.

the ring of your phone nearly scared you to death, making you drop the book you were holding. quietly cursing, you picked it up and placed it on the table before answering the phone. who was even calling you at this time? everyone knew you were busy in the evening, slaving away on your assignments. it must be really important to interrupt your workflow like this- you almost dropped your phone in shock when you recognized ijichi's voice on the other side. admittedly, you forgot about the entire ordeal and didn't expect him to get back to you so soon. "good evening, ms y/n. i'm calling you regarding your inquiry so we can finalize all the details."

"u- uhm yes! thank you for calling!"

although ijichi was kind and patient, you were still nervous as you scribbled the details on a piece of paper. your escort's name was choso, he was a few years older than you and his schedule was very flexible. there wasn't more info, ijichi had announced that choso would call you as soon as possible. dread filled your stomach - it was nerve wracking to meet new people, not to mention someone you hired to be your fake boyfriend for the day. and now that you knew he was calling, all focus and concentration was thrown out the window. silently, you sat at the table and stared at your phone, waiting for the screen to light up. maki and nobara didn't need to know about this new development just yet as you wanted to navigate this on your own before telling them.

not too long after, your phone rang again, an unknown number flashing across the screen. it had to be him. even though you mentally prepared yourself for minutes, the anxiety came back full force. with trembling hands, you picked up, holding your breath as you waited for an answer. a deep, rather dulcet voice greeted you from the other side. you liked the sound of his voice, it almost put you at ease if it wasn't for your mind that constantly reminded you what was going on. you hastily introduced yourself to him and told him why you were requesting his services. the entire time, he was silent and let you speak - although you appreciated that he didn't interrupt you, every second that was passed in silence agonized you.

"hello y/n, my name is choso and i'll be your escort for the time being. ijichi told me you were looking for someone to pose as your fake boyfriend?"

"ah, uh yes sort of! i don't… have any experience when it comes to boyfriends and that kind of stuff. and i- i just wanted to learn what it's like to d- date and- and," your voice got smaller and smaller, until it was a mere whisper that was filled with all kinds of embarrassment that you felt. you couldn't help it, hopefully choso was still able to decipher what you were explaining. "you know, k- kissing and all that stuff. i've never done it with anyone before."

"i see," choso paused for a second, making your heart race. "i can't say i've had this situation before but i'm confident in my skills to guide you through this. before we first meet, let's set some boundaries so you feel comfortable at all times, okay?"

you hummed and nodded, although he couldn't see you over the phone. choso sounded like what nobara had described your ideal type - ijichi really had delivered and chosen the best possible match. choso knew what to say and how to steer the conversation in such a way that it didn't make you feel helpless or anxious. and you, in turn, felt like you could trust him with this issue.

"y- yes! uhm when i first called ijichi, a friend of mine helped me with the process and requested someone who was comfortable with sexual relations but… uh, to be honest, i never thought of requesting them. i'm not entirely sure if i want to do it either… i want to approach this in a slow manner, as slow as possible."

"alright, i can work with that. as for our first meeting, have you picked a time and location?"

you sighed in relief. choso seemed like a really nice and understanding person, leaving most of the options up to you. you knew it was part of his job but it felt nice to know that he was so forthcoming and accommodating. for the first date, you’d chosen a nice restaurant that had good reviews and little private booths. even though there was no way your father would ever magically appear and find out about your escapades, you were still trying to be secretive and cautious. the restaurant was situated in a widespread estate with beautiful gardens, the perfect spot to take stroll after dinner. in all the romance books you’d consumed, these type of dates seemed to be very popular - you thought to yourself why not? as you discussed your plans with him, you briefly wondered what he looked like. it felt weird asking him about it and you'd meet him soon anyways. maybe he looked like what you thought his personality was - like a prince charming? the prince that your dad had always assured you would come along. a small giggle left your lips at the thought of it; it was silly to believe it would turn out to be the love of your life. though it made you giddy thinking of your prince charming.

“is everything okay?”

“ah sorry, everything’s fine! i just had a silly thought a moment ago, that’s all,” reassuring choso quickly, you rubbed your cheeks in embarrassment. he must’ve thought that you were going crazy. “anyways, thank you for um, everything. i feel more comfortable now that i’ve discussed the details with you, thank you for being so patient. i look forward to meeting you!”

on the other end, choso hesitated, startled by your sudden enthusiasm when you were rather shy and timid before. it seemed that you were willing to open up a little more. he was curious himself, never having dealt with such a case before. usually, only experienced people who were looking for eye candy to accompany them to fancy events would hire him. he couldn’t imagine what you were like before meeting - it was nicer to get to know you in person after all, for the sake of a date setting. still, how were you able to afford the services? considering you were most likely a college student, he couldn’t fathom what lengths you went just to gain some experience. though he supposed, he shouldn’t judge you too quickly.

“i look forward to meeting you as well. see you on saturday, y/n.”

for hours you’d gone back and forth between outfits - casual? or more cute? maybe a mix of both? maki wasn’t much of a help either, mostly just giving you a thumbs up for every outfit while nobara had something to criticize about every outfit. you sighed, tossing yet another shirt onto the heaping pile of clothes. it was hard trying to impress someone that you didn’t know. the last item on your list was a simple, flowy dress and it seemed to be the best fit. you didn’t want to agonize over the choices any longer, seeing that the date was inching closer and closer. maki looked like she was bored out of her mind as well, scrolling through her phone as she was lounging on your couch with nobara. “are you sure you’ll be fine?” maki questioned you again. she was relieved about your good mood, how you were less apprehensive about the entire ordeal. when you first told them about choso after the phone call, you sounded slightly excited and were gushing about how nice he had been. you were hopeful that you could learn a lot from him. however, maki couldn’t help but worry about you, constantly making sure you were feeling okay.

“i’m sure i’ll be fine, don’t worry! we agreed to just have dinner today and let me test the waters… we’re really just doing whatever i feel comfortable doing for now,” you explained to the two of them, smoothing out the dress before grabbing your bag. “so yeah, i’m ready, i think. i mean if anything was to happen, i’ll let you know right away. i really have to go now though, you guys coming?”

nobara made a noise of protest, not wanting to get up from your bed which promptly earned her a nudge from maki. you giggled at your friend’s antics, grasping her arm to pull her up. as lighthearted and happy as you acted, you tried to hide your nervousness in front of your friends. worrying them did no good. as the three of you made your way to the restaurant, you checked your phone to see a text message from choso who asked to meet you in front of the building. you agreed, telling him that you would be there soon. the phone pinged again, choso had sent you a simple smiley. it made you grin a little, earning a suggestive glance from nobara whom you gently shoved.

"text us if anything happens, yeah? we can also pick you up afterwards so don't worry about it," maki reminded you again as you rounded the corner of the street, stopping mere meters in front of the restaurant so you could say goodbye to them. again, you reassured them that you would do as they suggested. you would be fine, because after all, choso was a professional. waving at your friends’ retreating figures, you slowly walked towards the entrance and let your eyes wander. the streets were busy, you couldn’t immediately make out anyone who was waiting in front of the restaurant. not that you really knew what choso looked like, you just hoped your search wouldn’t get more difficult with people waiting in the front. glancing at your reflection on the windows of a parking car, you made sure that you looked presentable and approachable.

“y/n?” your soul nearly left your body as you got startled by a deep voice behind you, now suddenly being aware of the figure behind you. whirling around, you almost hit the other person with your small bag with the swing. your eyes widened and you apologized profusely, fussing around to make sure the person was okay until you paused. wait a minute. this person knew your name. abruptly leaning back so you could look at the person’s face - they were very, very tall - you incredulously stared at them before spluttering: “c- choso? you’re choso?”

the taller male nodded, gently grasping your shoulders to steady you. on your bare skin, his hands felt scalding hot, making you painfully aware of how close you stood to each other. choso, for a lack of better terms, looked nothing like you’d expected but you couldn’t complain. he was attractive, very much so. he almost fit into the bad boy category, the type of men your dad would never let you close to. you felt inexplicably drawn to choso, like a moth to flames and you just couldn’t look away. he stared back at you, dark eyes glinting with concern as he took in your form. as your voice had suggested, you appeared to be a rather shy and timid person, looking at him like a deer in headlights. choso thought you were adorable, the way you were holding onto the sleeves of his shirt to not fall.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to hit you! you just really scared me there,” you apologized again, letting go of the fabric in embarrassment. luckily, he didn’t seem to mind, patiently waiting until you were composed again.

“don’t worry about it, i’m okay. it’s nice to finally meet you. should we head inside?” he offered you his arm which you gratefully took and followed him inside. truth to be told, you were starstruck by him, still too flabbergasted to say another word. thankfully, choso had picked up on your speechlessness, silently chuckling to himself as he led you to your private booth. you sat across from him, quietly thanking the waiter as he handed you the menu. eyes flitting back and forth between it and choso, you fiddled with the hem of your dress. what would you even talk about? you felt awkward, not knowing what to ask him; your confidence had suddenly vanished with the earlier incident.

“you look like you’re about to faint,” choso teased you, giving you a cheeky smile. “i’m not gonna bite you, i promise. i’m supposed to be your fake boyfriend, right? ask me whatever you want, just act like we’re good friends. it’ll get better with time.”

you nodded eagerly, face heating up at the mention of boyfriends. how does one even act around them without prior experience? let’s not dwell on it for too long, you thought to yourself. fidgeting on your seat, you pointed at the menu. "do you already know what you'll be getting? a lot of people online recommended their signature dish so i thought we could try it… but all of their dishes sound really good!"

“how about we order different dishes and try from each other then?” choso suggested in response, amusedly watching how your eyes lit up at his idea. you nodded quickly, delving back into the menu to find your desired dish. glancing over to his side to see what he was looking at, you then pushed your menu over to him, pointing at the dish you would be ordering. choso nodded in understanding, skimming the pages until he found a dish that complimented it. not wanting to let you wait any longer, he gave the waiter a sign, ordering for the two of you. across of him, you stayed quiet, still contemplating what to ask him.

“feel free to ask me anything,” choso reminded you again, propping his chin on his hand and leaned closer to you. “when you first get to know someone, dates are really just to spend time with each other and getting to know the other person. if there’s something you two have in common, you’ll just go from there and bond over it, yeah?”

humming in thought, you nodded and looked up at him. “so uhm… what do you like to do in your free time? i’m still in uni, so i spend most of my days studying. but i really like reading when i’m free and i also volunteer at an animal shelter. the pets there make me really happy!”

“my job takes up the majority of my time, so i try to spend time with family and friends as much as possible. my younger brother has gotten me into surfing and paddle boarding, i really enjoy doing that. what do you study, if i may ask?”

“i want to become a veterinarian in the future! it’s been my dream ever since i was younger, so yeah… you said you have a younger brother? i have an older sister but we don’t have much in common since she’s a lot older than me. but um surfing! so you spend a lot of time at the beach, right? i haven’t been there in a long time.”

“if you still wish to continue after today’s date, we could go to the beach next time? i can teach you, it’s not that difficult.”

surprised, your eyes widened at his suggestion. he seemed to be confident that there would be a next time and you couldn’t even deny that possibility. so far, you were easing into the conversation more and more - the process was more natural than the whole setting suggested. though he still made you nervous, he had been nothing but respectful of your space and friendly. not to mention that you were attracted to him as well; if you hadn’t hired him, you could imagine actually getting close to him.

"i- i'd love that." as you told him more about yourself and listened to his stories, you didn’t notice how much time had passed until the waiter suddenly appeared in front of you, presenting you the dishes. your mouth was watering at the sight of the delicious dishes, you couldn’t wait to dig in. quickly thanking the waiter, you then took a bite from the dish after he left. you sighed in satisfaction, taking your time to properly taste the first bite.

“this is so good, you need to try it!” you gushed, pushing your plate closer to the middle of the table. choso chuckled, sharing his plate with you as well. as you took in all the side dishes, he'd already taken it upon himself to pick up a smaller piece with his chopsticks, nudging it towards you. you looked at him confused, then back at the small piece of food. was he trying to-? carefully, you leaned in and let him feed you, confusion and hesitation immediately melting at the taste. the food made you happy, but the unusual intimacy and closeness that he just showed you wasn't lost in between the myriad emotions.

as you had dinner, the previous conversation continued. choso was a few years older than you, has been working in this industry for two years now and preferred coffee over tea. he disliked early mornings and liked to sleep in until noon. his most precious and valued object was a polaroid camera, he wanted to have photos commemorating important occasions or moments that were special to him. all these little details made you feel like he was less of an escort that you'd hired but more of a friend. much to your surprise, the conversation ran smoothly and there were no awkward, silent gaps. you supposed it was only natural; you felt comfortable with him so it was easy to talk. had it been any other guy who didn't understand you or your intentions so well, you probably would've closed up.

"do you want to take a stroll around the estate? i heard the gardens are really beautiful," you asked choso, a hopeful glint in your eyes. dinner was finished long ago, silence filled with light conversation and teasing from choso’s side. you weren’t sure where to go from this or how to suggest being… more intimate. choso had suggested you would go slow - but how slow was too slow? and if you were to go with the flow, when would be the right time?

“i would love to,” choso’s reply pulled you out of your thoughts, focusing your attention back to him. lost in your thoughts, you nodded and called a waitress over to pay the bill. you felt choso’s gaze on you, making you queasy. what did he think of you? or this entire ordeal? you wondered. as he stood up and moved behind you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the restaurant. the touch was unfamiliar, heavy and scalding even through your clothes, but not unwelcome. a strange feeling welled up in your chest, crawling its way up your throat, constricting it in such a way that it distracted you from coherent thoughts.

seeming to notice your conflict, choso stepped to the side, offering you his hand. you glanced at it, hesitating. “boyfriend experience, remember?” he grinned at you, patiently waiting until you took his hand. his hand was much bigger, almost entirely engulfing yours as you intertwined your fingers. gently swinging your arms back and forth with the flow, choso lead the way through the paths of the garden. having looked forward to it, you suddenly found yourself too distracted by him. the flowers and trees were beautiful and so were the statues but he was the one that caught your attention.

“my hands aren’t sweaty, are they?” you asked after a moment of silence, stopping to face choso. he laughed and shook his head, flicking your forehead gently.

“stop worrying about things too much, you’ll be fine. you don’t see me complaining, do you?”

“i mean that’s true… but i can’t help it! there’s just a lot to uh, think about…” your voice trailed off, you let his hand go to cover your face in embarrassment. choso inched closer to you, grasping your hands to pry them off your face. remaining stubborn, you pulled them back in, a giggle breaking from your lips when he tried again, playfully pinching your cheeks.

“want me to take your mind off said things?” he asked with a low voice, inching in further until your back hit a tree trunk behind you. he was so close, too too close. weakly, you pushed at his chest, trying to get him to back off. the sudden closeness that threw you off - your heart was racing at a million miles an hour, the endless possibilities dancing around your head. “how so?” your voice came out quiet and breathless, as if you were anticipating anything, something… his touch perhaps?

“do you feel comfortable with me?” without hesitating, you nodded in agreement. choso didn’t question you any further, simply gave you a knowing smile before diving in and pressing his lips against yours. instinctively, you stiffened, hands clenching around the fabric of choso’s shirt. breath caught up in your throat, you struggled to ease into it. you pulled away from him, squeezing your eyes shut in shame.

“i’m sorry that-”

“don’t apologize,” choso comforted you quickly, clasping your hands in his and intertwining them. thumbs gently rubbing the back of your hands, he lifted one of them to press a kiss against your knuckles. you blinked perplexed; your heart fluttered at the gesture. “don’t overthink it, there’s no science to it, yeah? just follow the flow, whatever feels good. we’ll go from there.”

giving you a moment to collect yourself, he leaned back in, silently waiting for permission. again, your breath hitched but this time, it wasn’t the nervousness. it was his eyes that drew you in, demanding all of your attention. dark, with unknown depths, that glimmered with mischief. ever so slightly, you tilted your head up to meet his lips. his warm lips pressed against yours, slowly testing the waters and letting you set the pace before deepening the kiss. now less hesitant, you kissed him back with more fervour, losing yourself in the feeling. it felt awkward and strange now that you let him guide you, leaving more space for you to ponder about the feeling that it evoked inside of you. you were glad he was holding your hands, otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. the kiss brought forth a pleasant, tingling feeling - the sort of feeling that pulled you in, lulling you in warmth.

when choso pulled away, you almost mewled in disappointment, chasing after him. he let out a breathy laugh, cupping your cheek. “how did that feel? was it okay?”

“y- yeah, i liked it. felt very strange at first but once i was able to ease into it, it was… more natural and felt really good,” you explained to him shyly, leaning into his hand. longingly, you gazed at him. would it be weird to ask for another kiss? you wanted explore the feelings more, the intimacy of it, wanted to feel more of him. as if sensing that you were craving more, choso leaned in again, stopping a few centimeters in front of your face. with a sudden surge of boldness, you closed the distance between you, leaning up to kiss him. choso's arm snaked around your waist, pressing you closer to his body. gradually your body felt hotter, a dull ache accompanying it, spreading across the expanse of your stomach.

before you could act on the urge, choso pulled away again, pressing an apologetic kiss to the corner of your lips. "sorry, i don't want to get too carried away and we're… uh in public," he laughed at your horrified expression upon realizing your mistake. "i take it that you're still comfortable with this? do let me know if it gets too overwhelming for you.”

“n- no, it’s fine! it was uh, an interesting insight. i just wasn’t expecting to really get into this, considering- considering i hired you for this and don’t really know you.”

choso hummed in agreement. “i guess there has to be at least a smidge of attraction for it to work, yeah?” you looked at him stunned, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. you couldn’t place it; couldn’t place the feeling of longing that was emerging in you. when he looked at you like that, it was difficult to remind yourself that he was just an escort that you hired for your personal problems. when he looked at you like that, it filled you with warmth, making you want to pretend that he really cared about you as if you were in a relationship.

“yeah… yeah, i guess so.”

nervously, you were twiddling with your phone, contemplating whether to text choso or not. after the last “date”, you felt confident enough in continuing your… relationship of sorts. he was great at guiding you, always making sure you were comfortable and moving at your pace. you did let him know that you would book another session, you just hadn’t set up a date or time yet. and casually texting him felt awkward. hey, how’s your day? oh by the way, i wanna book another session so we can make out haha? maybe calling was a better idea. there was no plan ahead, never did you think you would even get this far.

the dial tone made you nervous. you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up, bouncing your leg up and down. maybe he was busy? it was early in the afternoon after all, he was probably already out with other clients. “hello? y/n?” choso sounded groggy, his voice raspy and deep as if he’d just gotten up. it sent electric shocks right down your spine, raising goosebumps across your skin. never had you thought about a man’s morning voice before, but choso had you wondering, imagining. you spluttered: “oh hey uh are you busy? i’m not interrupting you with something, am i?”

“not at all, i just got up,” choso admitted with a quiet chuckle. “everything okay? are you calling in for another appointment?”

“ah, yeah! i thought that we worked quite well and there’s still a few more things i want to learn with you, if you’re up for it? if you’re comfortable with it too, of course!”

“mhmm, i wouldn’t mind,” choso pondered from the other side. sounds of rustling and a few clangs resounded before you could clearly hear his voice again. you were glad that he agreed to it, meaning that you weren’t entirely… hopeless in that department. for days, his words were ghosting around in your head, a constant reminder that he seemed to find you attractive as well. not that he showed it, staying professional despite the nature of your relationship. it was nice to imagine that someone would look at you like that, at your shy and timid self.

choso was meticulous about his work, working on every detail and concern until he was satisfied. even though he looked so easy going, from time to time he had to admit that he was a perfectionist and easily frustrated when something didn't go the way he expected. so when you rolled around, so innocently asking for help, it threw him off. the feelings of confusion grew when he first met you, unable to pinpoint the origin of this urge, possessive and demanding, reaching its tendrils out to you. the way you reached out to him for help, the fact that you wanted to continue, wanted him to teach you. it thrilled him to the core when it really should not. he had to remain professional. but he was curious, so curious. indulging a little wouldn't hurt, right?

to choso's surprise, the next venue you'd chosen was the own comfort of your home. you were barely acquaintances, more like strangers, and yet you felt confident to invite him here. at the phone you had told him that your friends thought you had weird ideas about dates due to only seeing glorified versions of them on tv shows and movies. it embarrassed you enough to take their advice, inviting choso over for a movie night as opposed to visiting another fancy venue with him. prior to the date, you went through movie suggestions and rented the ones that you thought were interesting and enjoyable for the two of you. despite your put together attire and look, your apartment did not reflect the sentiment. it was a little chaotic; books and paper stacking up in every free corner of the apartment, pens strewn across surfaces and here and there choso could spot memorabilia and photos.

you gave choso an apologetic look when you let him in. despite your best efforts to clean up, you were still not happy with the outcome. tidying wasn't your strong suit but you tried to make it as accommodating as possible. choso assured you that he didn't mind at all, telling you that it added to the charm of the apartment. it was unusual to have someone other than your friends or family in the apartment - your home was your sacred space that you rarely ever showed anyone else, let alone someone you had hired. choso took a seat on the couch, turning to look at you as you went to grab some glasses and drinks.

"i uh, told my friends about my plans and they just told me i have weird expectations of dates," you explained choso, placing the items you'd grabbed on the coffee table and rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "they said it would probably just be better to have a simple movie night since a lot of people do that. and it would… make things a lot easier i- if we go fu- further…" the implication was hanging in the air, you didn't dare to speak them out. choso gave you a knowing smile, patting the empty space beside him. gingerly, you sat next to him, squeaking in surprise when he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side. with wide eyes, you stared at him, still trying to wrap your head around the casual close proximity with the taller male.

wordlessly, you started a random movie, trying to focus on it. throughout the duration of it, choso would ask you questions about your day, how uni was going or whether you felt comfortable. you couldn't focus, not with him being so close. how you made it through the first movie you didn't know. you were hyper aware of choso's wandering hands, the ghost touches his fingers left, how he absentmindedly rubbed your legs that were resting on his lap. straining to keep your eyes on the screen, your neck already felt stiff from the tension.

"i can tell that you're distracted, you know?" choso hummed, hands squeezing your legs gently to catch your attention. pretending to not be affected by it, you shook your head. you didn't want to show him that you wanted to proceed, not yet.

"i'm trying to concentrate," you shushed him quietly, playfully pushing at his arm but still not looking over to him. silence. you assumed you'd convinced him that there was nothing wrong until you felt his hands innocently move a little higher, rubbing the top of your thighs. clenching your fists, you stayed put, unwavering in your resolve. choso's hands wandered, alternating between featherlight touches to using more pressure. he kept his eyes on you, gauging your reactions to him. you brought your hand up to cover half of your face. it was embarrassing, the way your breath came out laboured in response. without warning, arms were hooked under your knees, dragging you across the couch and seated you on his lap. you made a noise in protest, now finally paying attention to him. choso wasn’t sure why but it had bothered him that you were so adamant on keeping your attention on the movie as opposed to keeping your eyes on him.

choso wasn’t sure why but he craved your attention, wanted you to look at him only. his resolve crumbled when you looked at him with wide eyes, grasping the sleeves of his shirt to steady yourself. he couldn’t help but kiss you, swallowing your surprised mewl before you returned the kiss. pleased at your eagerness, he gradually deepened the kiss, licking at the seams of your lips. you gasp in surprise and parted your lips slightly, whimpering in anticipation. it felt unfamiliar and yet thrilling at the same time, fueling and flaring up the dull ache in the pit of your stomach. before choso could go any further, you pulled away and hid your face in the crook of his neck. “what’s wrong? did i go too far?” he questioned concerned, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“no, no, not at all,” reassuring him quickly, you awkwardly turned in his lap, legs still thrown over it. “i uh just wanted to try to take initiative myself, figure things out without getting hints from you… if that’s okay?”

a sigh of relief left choso’s lips. silently, he gave you his approval and leaned back, watching as you shuffled clumsily. finally, you straddled his lap and placed your hands on his chest. in the dim light, you couldn’t make out his face expression - choso was glad that you couldn’t, otherwise you would have been able to see how much it was affecting him, how he was slowly losing his composure and control around you. but this was about you, he was there to help you explore this type of intimacy. releasing another shaky breath, you then leaned in and softly kissed him. you kept a languid tempo, slowly and surely cracking his restraint. trying to mirror what he’d done earlier, you pushed further, timidly licking into his mouth as he parted his lips.

seemingly not being able to hold back anymore, choso pushed against you with equally as much fervour, gripping your chin and tilting your head ever so slightly. his lips moved against yours, sucking your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper from you. again the ache in the pit of your stomach was flaring up, uncomfortable and yearning for relief; you moved against his lap, pressing your body against his when your crotch dragged against the bulge in his jeans. choso groaned, hands flying to grasp your hips and steady you.

dazed, you gave him a confused look. choso cleared his throat, lifting his hips ever so slightly so you could feel his arousal again. when the realization hit you, your face heated up - you were surprised to find out that he felt aroused… by you.

“oh.”

“yeah.” choso retorted dryly, hands rubbing at his face in embarrassment. “fuck, i’m so sorry. it wasn’t meant to get out of hand like this, i don’t know how far you planned ahead for today but i-”

“uhm if you don’t mind…” you hesitated. but curiosity simply got the better of you, you wanted to see him breathless and feel as hot and bothered as you did. “could i uhm. you know? give you a handjob? only if you don’t mind because i want to know how to please uhm, please people.”

choso swore under his breath. you had no idea how painfully hard you were making him. quietly encouraging you, he leaned in to kiss you again and guided your hands to his jeans. you fumbled with the button and zipper, hands trembling slightly. it took you a few tries until you were finally able to unzip his pants, a giggle left your lips at the thought of how clumsy you were. your hands gently rubbed at the tent in his boxers, breath hitching as choso’s hips jerked. gaining some courage, you slightly put on more pressure and watched fascinated when choso’s fingers digged into the fleshy skin of your hips in anticipation. slowly, you pulled the waistband of his boxers down until it revealed his cock. choso hissed at the cold air that was biting at his skin.

carefully, you wrapped your hand around the shaft, marvelling at how the skin felt on your hands. sensing your cluelessness, choso wrapped his larger hand around yours and guided you into a slow rhythm to get you used to the movement. sucking in a deep breath between his teeth, he praised you: “you’re doing good, y/n. fuck, you’re being such a good girl.”

your heart soared at the praise. eagerly, you leaned up to kiss him, still stroking him in slow movements. choso moaned against your lips, the deep sound spurring you on, eager to hear more of his reactions. when you finally felt more comfortable continuing on your own, choso pulled his hands away and instead settled them on the small of your back, sliding them down until they were resting on your bum. you wrapped your other hand around him as well and paid attention to his reactions, adjusting the pressure and pace accordingly. choso buried his face in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet praises in between his moans. eventually your name left his lips; it set your entire body in flames, desperate want clinging onto your bones.

“fuck, i’m close,” he groans against the skin of your neck, hips rutting up to meet your movements more frantically now. you weren’t entirely sure what to do, opting to simply match the pace. shudders wrecked through choso’s body as he came, warm cum painting your small hands and running down your fingers. he was panting, leaning back against the couch and watching you with hooded eyes. the sight in front of you stirred something inside of you - choso’s flushed face, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, his kiss-bitten lips. with curiosity, you inspected the liquid on your hand. lazily, choso grasped your wrist, holding them away from you. “‘m sorry. do you have a tissue?”

you tilted your head, tugging on the sleeves of his sweater with your other hand. “uh i- i’ve heard from others… um. can i try?” you asked quietly. choso’s grip on your wrist weakened; he gave you an incredulous look, as if you few two heads. out of all things, he didn’t expect you to suggest that. fuck, he felt the blood rushing right back down to his cock. just the thought of you, doing that - it was enough to make him cum again. “go ahead, if you feel like it,” choso whispered in a low voice. dark urges overcame him again, begging him to give in, to make you bend to his will, to submit, to-

his thoughts came to a screeching halt when he saw you unashamedly pop a finger in your mouth, licking the come from it. there wasn’t any reaction from you really, you gave him a sheepish smile afterwards and gratefully took the tissue he offered you. he helped you wipe your hands, diving in for another kiss. “sorry, i think i just short circuited,” choso laughed embarrassedly, another kiss was pressed to your temple. “that was just… uh- fuck.”

“r- really?” you stammered, hiding your face in your hands. “it’s okay if it wasn’t that great for you, it was my first time after all, i-”

choso hushed you, going for another open mouthed kiss, eliciting a whimper from you. “yeah, really. fuck, the things i want to do to you,” he shook his head, not wanting to get sidetracked again. “but this is about you. we’ll only go as far as you’re comfortable. did you feel like you learned enough for today?”

“mh- hmm. thank you,” you leaned your head against his chest, closing your eyes as a sudden tiredness washed over you. choso’s fingers dancing across your skin were slowly lulling you into a comfortable slumber. “what is it that you want to do to me? will you show me one day?”

choso cursed, shivers running down his spine.

“if you want to, of course.”

-----------

now that you’d met choso a couple of times, it was pretty obvious that you took some liking to him. after that fateful day, nothing else had happened as you wanted to work on easing into relationship dynamics and feeling less insecure about things - choso had been nothing but sweet and mindful about it, even went out of his way to find suitable locations for your dates. somewhere along the way you had started to text more casually, the strictly business type texting long forgotten. gradually, the two of you opened up to each other, the lines between escort and client slowly blurring and intertwining.

choso had promised to pick you up after your shift at the animal shelter for your next date; for today he had suggested you come over to his place for a change. the thought that he was willing to let you in his home, let you have a glimpse into his personal life, it made you giddy with anticipation. despite getting closer to each other, he remained a mysterious person and you didn't want to pry. after all, you were merely his client. but what if you were more- patting your cheeks to put some sense back into you, you leaned down to pet the dogs. unbeknownst to you, choso had already entered the building and watched you with a soft smile as you gave each of the dogs their deserved belly rubs before you left.

you didn't take any notice of him until some of the dogs perked up and carefully trudged over to sniff at the stranger. turning around on your heels, your eyes widened as you took in choso's tall figure. you quickly apologized, telling him that you would be joining him right away to which he simply shook his head and reassured you that you were fine. your co-workers were eyeing choso curiously, one of them wiggling their eyebrows at you. in response, you waved it off, too embarrassed to set the record straight. choso looked so awfully much like a boyfriend in this moment - the way he was dressed in casual clothes that accentuated his physical features so well, the soft smile he gave you as he offered you his hand to take, the way he sounded genuinely interested and curious when he asked you about your day.

silently, you took his hand and followed him out of the building - you could feel your co-workers’ inquisitive gazes like laser beams on your back. while they were never particularly nosy about your personal life, it was unusual that someone would pick you up from work; much less someone that you seemed to be romantically interested in. surely, they would grill you the next time you would return to work. “they think you’re my boyfriend,” you explained to choso sheepishly, glancing down at your intertwined hands. choso squeezed your hand and nudged your side gently. “am i not?” he winked at you cheekily, making your face heat up. he had asked in such a serious voice that you’d briefly questioned yourself.

“n- no, not really,” you replied quietly, looking away from him. choso reached around you to open the car door for you. in the window reflection you could see his face expression; it was rather somber, almost as if your words had hurt him in a way. the emotion was gone from his face when you blinked. maybe you had just imagined it. getting close to him on that level was unattainable, no matter how you twisted it. it just wasn't right.

the car ride was mostly quiet, only the sound of choso's car playlist accompanying you. somewhere along the way he had reached out to intertwine your fingers, resting his hand on your thigh. holding hands was almost natural to you now, the way his hands automatically sought out yours whenever possible. in response, your heart was racing, filling with the all too familiar feeling of yearning. whether you were simply yearning for the intimacy and closeness of a relationship or for him, you weren't entirely sure. while choso had told you about himself for the sake of the fake dating, there were still unknown facettes. it was impossible for you to get to know all of him, not when he was selling a fantasy to you. and yet, you found yourself craving more of him, beyond what he was willing to show you.

choso parked his car in the garage, turning his body sideways so he could look at you. "you okay? you look like you were quite lost in thoughts," he hummed curiously, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. what could you possibly answer to that? hey i'm questioning our fake relationship and it's going beyond what i expected? abruptly, choso hoisted you across the seat onto his lap as if you'd weighed nothing. "a penny for your thoughts? or should i take your mind off things?"

"i- i think i would… rather not talk about it," you whispered quietly, gaze skirting away from his eyes. choso frowned, slightly irritated - he had a small inkling why he reacted this way but banned the thought to the back of his head. he understood that as a client, you wouldn't disclose details of your private life to him. but he found it difficult to circumvent your dropping mood when he couldn't tell what was going on.

"i understand," choso was about to open the door when you suddenly cupped his chin and dove in for a kiss. he was caught off guard - rarely did you ever initiate kisses, usually shyly asking beforehand. feeling bold, you pressed you pressed your hips down, grinding against his crotch. choso groaned, gripping your hips to guide you while thrusting his hips up to meet yours. he enjoyed how you shuddered at the newfound pleasure, the delicious friction making your toes curl. "does baby want me to take her mind off things?" he murmured with a raspy voice, peppering kisses across your jaw.

"please," you mewled needily, hands grabbing onto his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. choso complied, sliding his hand up to tangle in your hair and gently pulled at it, tilting your head back. you were panting by the time he was moving down the column of your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. lower and lower, until he reached the top of your breasts; with swift movements, he yanked your shirt and bra upso , pressing open mouthed kisses to them before wrapping his lips around your nipple. your voice cracked as you moaned his name, hands flying up to bury your hands in his hair. distracted by the ministrations, you didn’t notice choso’s free hand sliding down your front until you feel the coldness of his hands on your skin. you squirmed, giggling at the cool sensation - the giggle died abruptly when he dove lower, fingers rubbing your clothed pussy languidly.

“c- choso! we’re still in the g- garage, people can see!” you stuttered scandalized, tugging at the tips of his hair to grab his attention. choso simply hummed, carrying on as if you hadn’t just told him your concerns. rubbing circles on your clit, he watched with satisfaction how your legs were trembling, writhing in pleasure. just the sight of you - hickeys on your neck, slightly swollen lips, shirt pushed up to reveal your tits, his hands down your pants - it was so arousing and thrilling, he almost didn’t want to stop.

“the windows are tinted and no one’s around at this time… do you really want me to stop?” he murmured with a low voice, fingers pushing your panties to the side to gather the slick up on his fingers. “look at you, how much you’re craving it. the want is written all over your face, baby. do you want to stop now?”

before you know it, choso’s hand is suddenly hovering over your face, fingers glimmering with your arousal. you shot him a dazed look, confusion evident on your face. “open,” he instructed softly, slowly and carefully sliding his fingers in your mouth. almost instinctively, your hands gingerly grasped his wrist. your lips wrapped around them, tasting the liquid curiously. his breath hitched, blood shooting down his groin - fuck, you were going to kill him. tentatively, he thrusted his fingers, slow enough so he could gauge your reaction to it. you didn’t know what it was - the taste of yourself, the weight of his fingers on your tongue, the way he was looking at you with hooded eyes and a hungry expression on his face; it made you squirm, eagerly for more. choso immediately took notice of your sudden mood shift. barely noticeable, your hips were rocking back and forth as you sucked on his fingers, cleaning them of your slick.

with a pop, choso removed his fingers. you whimpered his name, gasping in relief when he slid them back down, moving your panties to the side. his thumb found your clit, rubbing the little nub gently in slow circles. as if he was in no hurry and unbothered by the prospect that someone could actually spot you, he continued his ministrations. your legs jerked, threatening to close when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance. excruciatingly slow, he sunk a finger into you. the feeling was unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable at first. seizing up, you clenched around the finger. “relax, ease into it,” choso whispered reassuringly, capturing your lips in a kiss. “it’ll feel good, i promise.”

choso inserted a second finger, letting you get used to the feeling of them. the kisses he was peppering on your chest were distracting you from the burning stretch, creating a confusing mix between pain and pleasure. “how are you feeling?”

“f- feels good, i- i-” you were struggling to form coherent sentences, too focused on how he was lapping at your nipples, sucking and kissing them gently. “y- you can continue…”

steadily, choso started to thrust his fingers into you - gradually, the burn was disappearing and replaced by a delicious stretch, pleasure that was spreading throughout your body and setting your nerves on fire. desperately clinging onto his shirt, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. choso placed a kiss on the crown of your head, whispering sweet praises and telling you what a good girl you were. it felt good, so good but something was missing, you needed something, maybe more. you started begging and despite blabbering nonsensical things, choso understood what you were asking of him. his fingers hit a peculiar spot inside of you when he curled them, making you jerk in surprise. “o- oh!” again and again, choso was hitting the spot, making you writhe on his lap.

something was building up in the pit of your stomach, like a tightened coil that was about to snap at any time. panicking slightly, you grabbed choso’s hand and tried to close your legs, wiggling away from him: “h- hey wait, i-” another moan broke from your lips when choso sealed your lips with his and wrapped his arm around your waist, locking you in place. “it’s okay, let go, baby. cum for me,” he whispered against your lips, sinking his fingers in you one last time. and then the coil snapped, the high crashing over you like a riptide, so blinding and intense that it took you a while to come down from it. your thighs were still trembling by the time you came back to your senses, ripples of pleasure still cursing through you.

you slump against choso's chest, exhausted from the intensity of your orgasm but feeling wonderfully blissed out. choso removed his hand from you, licking your arousal from his fingers before wiping them off on a paper towel. he brushed his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "how are you feeling? can you move?"

"my legs feel like jelly," your voice came out muffled, face still pressed into his chest. "'m feeling good though. that was… really nice."

"i'll carry you upstairs," choso declared matter-of-factly, hoisting you up so he could carry you. you slung your arms around his neck, pecking the side of his neck. his scent was faint but calming, lulling you into a sense of home and comfort. you wanted to stay close to him like this, just having him hold you in his arms. a myriad of emotions welled up in you, swallowing all your doubts until all that was left was the budding blossoms of your feelings for him, nurtured by his soft touches and adoring treatment. you wanted to cherish him, keep him close for as long as you could, as long as you could still have him.

"thank you."

"for what?" choso sounded surprised.

"taking care of me? i mean i pay you for it but i still wanted to let you know that i appreciate it."

“everything for you, baby,” choso replied softly, tightening his grip around you. as you got to his apartment, choso placed you on the couch and knelt down, hands wrapping around yours. “do you want to get changed? i’ll lend you some of my clothes, you can get changed in my room or in the bathroom if you want to freshen up.”

he was so so considerate, you couldn’t believe someone as nice as him existed out there. as you agreed, choso disappeared in his room; the sound of opening doors and drawers as well as rustling resounded from his room. you took the opportunity to observe his home. it was a small but cozy apartment, despite being sparsely decorated. in the back of the living room, you could spot some bags and boxes, presumably choso’s surfing equipment, as well as posters and photos cluttered on a pinboard. here and there, some little figurines and trinkets were spread across the apartment. although it was cozy, the apartment lacked some kind of presence, some warmth. you assumed that it had to do with choso’s job - he probably was rarely home between work and spending time with friends and family.

“here you go,” choso handed you a big sweatshirt and some shorts as he came back, patting your head teasingly. “go and get changed, i’ll start preparing dinner, yeah?”

you hid in the bathroom and got changed, neatly folding your clothes and stacking them on the counter. inspecting yourself in the mirror, you admired the size of choso’s sweater - it was a simple and cream coloured sweater that was entirely dwarfing and engulfing you. the sleeves were way too long and the hem almost reached your knees. but it was soft and comfy, coming close to choso’s hugs. you pulled the shorts up your legs, awkwardly securing them by tucking them underneath the sweater. choso had set up some boiling water and was silently chopping vegetables by the time you left the bathroom and tip toed towards the kitchen. “can i help you with anything?”

“no it’s okay, take a seat. do you want anything to drink? water? tea?” reluctantly, you sat at the small table on the side, pouting at him. choso simply laughed and shook his head, bringing a glass of water over. your heart jumped in surprise when he kissed your forehead as he placed the glass on the table. “i’ll take care of you for today. boyfriend duties, remember? the past times you’ve always taken us out on restaurants and incredible locations and now it’s my turn to show you the boyfriend magic.”

sudden dread filled your stomach. how could choso be so warm and kind-hearted to you, when you weren’t even in a relationship? you keep having to remind yourself that this was what he was doing for a living, that you might possibly never know the real him. that this might just be a mask that he kept on for the sake of your requests. you didn’t reply, deep in your thoughts as you stared at the glass of water. choso returned back to his previous task, cooking dinner in silence. your chest felt heavy with uncertainty and disappointment - you tried your best to push the emotions down. they were irrational, you knew full well what you were getting yourself into when you asked for his service.

thankfully, choso didn’t seem to have picked up on your sullen mood, even throughout dinner - you let no emotions shine through when you conversed with him, choosing to keep it lighthearted. you offered to wash the dishes, not wanting him to lift another finger when you could help him in return. as you scrubbed the bowls, choso creeped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “you wanna watch a movie? or go to bed already? you’ve had a long day at work after all.”

“hmm, yeah. i think i’d prefer going to bed, if that’s okay for you?”

“i could never say no to cuddles,” choso hummed, capturing your lips in another kiss. you whimpered against them, not being able to resist him. he moaned against your lips, grip on you tightening. “please don’t tempt me, it’s so hard to say no to you,” he warned you with a strained voice.

your face grew warm at the memories of a few hours ago. you couldn’t believe you let him do that, let him finger you in his car in the garage. no one had seen you and you were thankful for that but you wanted the ground to swallow you whole at the thought of someone possibly snitching on you. your father would lose his mind. “is- is it not what you want?”

“of course i do, but not today. baby steps, remember? we have all the time in the world. and i can assure you that i very much want you,” with one last peck on your lips, he removed himself from you and disappeared in his room. he wanted you. your heart was soaring at his confession. you were relieved to know that he was craving you as much as you were yearning for him. maybe you would indulge, just for a couple more times until you would inevitably have to cut off the relationship. you felt at peace with your decision, you told yourself. nothing good would come from false hope.

after washing up, you joined choso on the bed, shyly crawling towards him as he opened his arms and welcomed you. he pulled you into his chest, nearly crushing you with his weight. it made you giggle and squirm in his arms, trying to wiggle out of his hold. choso was having none of it, peppering kisses all over your face as he trapped you in place. gasping for air in between your carefree laughter, you weakly pushed at his head, squealing when he dove in to blow raspberries on your neck. he showed mercy and let up, instead curiously inspecting your neck as he pulled the neckline of your, no his, sweater down. something dark was glinting in his eyes as his eyes zoomed in on the hickeys he had left on your neck and chest - he felt strangely satisfied, pleased with his work of art. a sliver of possessiveness overcame him as he traced the trail of red marks on your neck, humming quietly.

“something wrong with my neck?” you questioned confused, not having spotted the hickeys yet. choso shook his head, simply laid back on his side again to look at you. “not at all. was just inspecting the hickeys i left on you.”

“you left marks?” you gaped at him, mildly shocked at the revelation. though he was preoccupied with your neck earlier, you didn’t expect him to actually leave so many marks, much less ones that were visible. “is… is that a common occurrence?”

“for couples? i think so. but i can’t speak for everyone; if it was me, i would do it frequently. stake my claim on you, let everyone know that you’re mine,” choso replied and casually draped the blanket over the two of you, as if he didn’t just admit to doing something he would normally do with a lover. did he think of you as his? you struggled to decipher his actions, not being able to match it with a specific reason.

“that’s uh-” your stuttering was interrupted by another horrifying thought. “oh god, i can’t let my parents see this, they will kill me.”

choso shot you a confused look. you hadn’t told him about your parents yet or how you were hiding this from them.

“my parents… especially my dad, are very cautious about letting me venture out in romantic relationships. it’s mostly because he didn’t feel like anyone was good enough for me and because he didn’t want me to get hurt. sometimes i felt like those princesses locked up in a tower, you know? so i decided to explore and uh, hired you. i didn’t want to burden my friends with having to help me gain some experience,” you explained to choso, eyes widening when he suddenly grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to it. he winked at you cheekily before leaning over you to turn off the lights. you felt him press a gentle kiss to your lips but you couldn’t make out his face expression in the dark. choso preferred it like this, so you couldn’t tell the vulnerable look on his face, the ache of knowing that he could never fully be yours.

“then i’m glad i get to serve a princess such as you.”

----------

“you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with choso,” nobara commented as she took a sip from her coffee, reaching out to grab one of the muffins you had ordered. you looked away in embarrassment. it’s been nearly two months since you’ve started to meet up with choso. your dates became more frequent, even the casual texting continued. and yet you hadn’t really told your friends about your progress or how you felt about him, either brushing it off or giving them vague details. it was only natural that nobara and maki grew suspicious, vowing to grill you about it the next time you would meet up. “have you done the deed?”

“n- no! not yet,” you answered hastily, the topic still making you feel bashful. though you had talked to choso about it; he had agreed and hinted that you might go all the way the next time you would meet up. it was weird, scheduling something like this. but you felt more at ease knowing that it was approaching and you could somewhat prepare your nerves for it. “we talked about it though… next time, maybe?”

“i see,” maki nodded slowly, deep in thought. “you’ve been skirting around this escort thing a lot. is there something you’re hiding from us?”

“nope! not at all!”

“y/n… we’re looking out for you as friends. i know you told us that you trust choso and that he’s the nicest person you have ever but is there something more?” maki gave you a gentle nudge. the serious look in her eyes told you that you better not give her a lame excuse. even nobara, who was usually playful in nature, looked mildly concerned. as much concern as she could muster up anyways. sheepishly, you stared at your mug, watching the milk swirl with your hot chocolate. surely, they would tell you to stop seeing him, to stay away. because catching feelings for someone whose true feelings and self you could never uncover… should have been something you could have prevented. if only it hadn’t been so easy to give in, so easy to develop feelings for choso.

“uhm. i just realized that i like him, like a lot. i know i shouldn’t and should have circumvented the issue somehow but now i’m stuck with my feelings. and it’s just confusing. before you get mad at me, i’ve already decided to cut it off after our next date. i can’t dwell on it for too long because realistically, nothing is going to happen.”

wordlessly, nobara gave you a hug, patting your back to soothe you. “is he really that great though?” maki lightly swatted nobara’s arm and gave her an eyeroll. her comment made you laugh, she knew how to lighten up a situation.

“i think so. very gentleman-like and just takes good care of everything. i really appreciate how well he’s been taking care of me this entire time. he just is the perfect boyfriend, you know?” nobara nodded but you could tell from her face that she was trying to put the puzzle pieces together. it made you laugh again, pinching her cheek playfully. you didn’t want to worry your friends too much. they always helped you in every situation and now it was time you would take care of everything yourself.

“i can’t believe this entire time we were trying to find you a perfect partner and you’ve gone and went the whole nine yards, boyfriend experience and heartbreak all together,” maki joked and ruffled your hair, giving you a reassuring smile. “you know we’re there for you if you need emotional support in this, right? we might not be much of a help while you go through the fake breakup but we can help you take your mind off afterwards.”

you sniffled a little at the thought. your next date was fast approaching and you were grateful to have such great friends, who would always look out for you and be understanding even if you made dumb mistakes. your next step would be to learn how to mend a broken heart.

everything had to be perfect. the entire evening you had been on the move, busy cleaning your apartment and room and spending time in the bathroom making yourself look presentable. you still felt nervous exposing all of you to choso, never had anyone seen you naked before. the thought of it had made you so anxious that you’d called nobara who promptly suggested you wear cute underwear and something comfy to ease yourself into it. chances were that choso didn’t really care and wouldn’t judge you anyways; he had always been generous with compliments, always telling you how pretty you looked, how cute you were, and what a good girl you were for him. you didn’t think you could feel so fired up from praises nor did you think that you would be craving to hear them so much until choso came along. the feeling of euphoria that overtook you whenever he praised you, along with the pleasure he gave you whenever you were fooling around - it was a deadly combination.

knocks at the door made you perk up, hastily racing over to the door to let choso in. he chuckled when you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest. “hey baby, missed me much, huh? i missed you too,” choso admitted, softly combing his fingers through your hair. you peeked up at him from below, closing your eyes as you leaned into his touch like a cat. “mhmm, missed you a lot,” you mumbled, humming in content as choso pecked your lips briefly before waddling inside the apartment with you in his arms, closing the door behind him

“what am i going to do with you?” he mumbled amused and sat down on the couch, pulling you onto his lap. he squished your cheeks between his hands, kissing your pouty lips with a broad smile. “you always make it so hard for me to leave.”

your heart sunk at his last words, remembering how you were planning to proceed by the end of this date. surely, it couldn’t be so hard and he wouldn’t think much of it since it was all business anyways. and yet, you couldn’t help but seize up with dread, not wanting to hurt him. if, and only if he would actually be affected by it. you placed your hands on his, sticking your tongue out at him. you teased him: “you leave but you always return, right? doesn’t that give you something to look forward to?”

“yeah, always come bouncing back…” choso trailed off, a faraway look on his face. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking - each emotion that surfaced was only fleeting and quickly wiped from his face expression as if it never existed in the first place. perhaps he was keeping his heart as guarded as yours, for baring the most vulnerable parts of yourself could be your downfall. he ran his hands along your thighs, rubbing the bare skin gently, fingers teasingly slipping under the hem of your shorts. your breath hitched in your throat, expecting him to move his hands up further. but by now, choso knew how to play you like a fiddle, what drew beautiful moans out of you, what made you whimper in anticipation and how to build up tension. he knew how to tease you and use it to his advantage; knew well that you would follow his instructions like the good girl that you were, never disappointing him. “gotta take care of my princess, hm?”

choso dipped down, brushing the strands of your hair out of the way, showering it in kisses. you mewled quietly, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck. he was still murmuring between kisses, telling you how sweet you were, how he was going to make you sing his name, how he was going to take care of you. the whispered praises were getting to your head, you easily melted into his touch. “c- choso,” you gasped, already drowning in him as his presence clouded your senses, wrapping around you as if nothing else but him existed. “please touch me.”

“your wish is my command,” choso lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you to your bedroom with ease. gently, he dropped you on the bed, simply hovering over you without saying a word. the look in his eyes knocked the air out of your lungs; you loved his eyes, his dark brown eyes that were filled with so much warmth and love, now darkened and filled with lust. he observed you, waiting for you to make a move - you stayed still, tense with anticipation. with every single intimate encounter you had with him, you gradually learned that choso enjoyed being in control, overjoyed when you were obedient and remembered what he had told you. he liked having you at his mercy, being the first and only one to discover the expanse of your body, to pleasure you in ways you were yet to familiarize yourself with.

choso’s tapped your lips, carefully sliding two fingers in when you willingly parted your lips and sucked on them. the weight of his fingers on your tongue, the dazed look on his eyes as he watched you - it was all so erotic, so arousing. you lifted your hips, grinding against his thighs for some kind of relief. it drew a slightly irritated click of the tongue from choso, gently pressing his fingers against your tongue. but he enjoyed the view, seeing how you wanted him so much, how you were seeking relief by humping his thigh. you could already feel yourself soaking through your panties and your thin shorts, arousal smearing across choso’s thigh and leaving a wet spot on his jeans.

pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he slid them down, lower and lower, smearing your spit across your skin. his fingers stopped right at the buttons of your blouse, playfully rolling them between his fingers. slowly, he unbuttoned the blouse, pushing the fabric off your shoulders to reveal your bra. you squirmed, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed about being so exposed in front of him. “you’re beautiful,” choso reminded you. “don’t hide from me. i want to see all of you.”

reluctantly, you kept your arms at your sides, instead clenching your fingers around the fabric of your comforter. teasingly, his hands dragged across the tops of your breasts before dipping lower. “look at you, how soaked you are already. you’ve even left a spot on my jeans. i haven’t even touched you properly yet… has my princess missed me this much?” he mused, gently rubbing circles across your skin. he was careful not to move anywhere close to your crotch, resolutely keeping his hand near your navel.

“yes, please touch me,” you mewled, grasping his hand to guide him towards the hem of your shorts. his hand splayed across your mound, rubbing in deliberately slow movements, making you sigh in relief. choso tugged on your shorts, dragging them down your legs with ease. you clenched your eyes shut, hiding your face behind your hands. choso stayed silent for a few seconds and simply admired you in the dim light of your room. he could tell that you'd chosen a nice set of underwear to impress him - you looked so cute in it, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. he took notice of the dark patch on the crotch of your panties, how they were clinging onto your skin and how your arousal was glistening on your inner thighs.

"you look breathtaking," choso complimented you, gently removing your hands from your face. "i told you not to hide, didn't i? give me all of you, baby."

you blinked a few times, sheepishly thanking him. his praises overwhelmed you, making your chest swell with pride. but still, you didn't know how to react when he was singing your praises, too bashful to reply coherently. choso removed your panties in painstakingly slow movements, leaving trails of kisses on your inner thighs up to your ankle. throwing your panties to the floor, he then pulled your legs over his shoulders. you watched him bewildered, not sure what to make of it. the position made you feel oddly exposed; all of your senses were heightened, strained to focus on choso only. the oversensitivity caused your hips to jerk when choso’s breath hit your pussy, keen on receiving attention. the swipe of his tongue on your slit was something you didn’t expect - the sensation was new, uncharted territory, so different from his fingers. it drew a whimper from your lips, making your toes curl against his back.

languidly, he was lapping at your folds, taking his time to get you used to the feeling. it wasn’t until his tongue dragged across your clit, lips wrapping around it to suck gently, that whines and whimpers spilled forth from your lips. your hips automatically lurched forward, rocking against his face. you couldn’t wrap your head around the pleasure it provided you, how it rendered you into a babbling mess with only his name on your lips like some mantra. needing to busy your hands otherwise, you clenched your fingers around his hair, subconsciously pressing his face into your pussy. choso groaned against you, the slight burn turning him on beyond relief. you felt like you’re floating, higher and higher, rapidly approaching your high and it was still a feeling you’re trying to get used to, a feeling that you readily welcomed and craved.

it was a combination of all the touches that bring you closer to the edge; how he was sucking at your clit before flattening his tongue against your clit, paying close attention to it, how it was repeatedly and rapidly dragging across your folds. it made you sob, begging him to make you cum. choso pulled you even closer, fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped at your swollen clit, again and again until you come with a loud moan, barch arching from the bed, heels digging into choso’s shoulder blades. clenching your eyes shut, you attempted to push his face away from you, now feeling too sensitive. your legs were trembling uncontrollably, you gasped for air as your high washes over you and slowly ebbing away. choso sat up on his knees and only then you see the arousal smeared across his chin and lips. the sight sent electric shocks up your spine, breath hitching in your throat. he looked so fucking hot like this. he gave you no time to be embarrassed about it, wiping the slick off his skin and licking it off his hands.

“c- choso, what-” you croaked, voice all raspy from your relentless moaning. choso didn’t reply, instead kissed you open mouthed - the taste of your arousal was still present on his tongue. in the back of your mind, you thought about how dirty it was and yet so thrilling, eliciting a hunger for him. desperately, you were tugging at his shirt, trying to get it off. you were struggling, huffing in frustration as he didn’t budge. choso laughed, pecking your lips apologetically before taking it off along with his pants. even in the dim light you could make out the bulge in his pants, a testament of much he wanted you. the sight made you salivate, your pussy clenching around nothing. he took notice of your dazed look, grabbing your chin to tilt it up. “are you sure you want this? do you want me?”

you nodded quickly, eyes widening at his question. “of course, i want you, never wanted anything more. please, choso.”

“you have me, all of me,” he retorted, a tender look in his eyes. again, your heart clenched. just one more time you would get to see him like this, pretend he really was your lover. but when he looked at you with so much adoration in his eyes, it was hard to believe that there wasn’t a spark between you. unbeknownst to you, choso had always looked at you with stars in his eyes, hoping that you would return the sentiment. no matter how hard he was keeping his feelings at bay, the cracks were widening, allowing more and more feelings to seep through. with each touch, each word that you exchanged, the dam was weakening and threatening to spill everything that he was keeping inside.

choso gently pressed you back down onto the mattress, fingers fumbling with the condom that he’d pulled out of his jeans. you watched with fascination as he put it on, not being able to take your gaze of it. he grinned, deciding to indulge you, pressing his cock against you. arousal was still leaking from you, allowing him to easily slide against you. deliberately, he nudged the head against your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore. you wiggled your hips, signaling him to do something, do put you out of your misery. choso glanced at you for permission, suddenly seeming to be nervous himself. you gave him a small nod, leaning up to cradle his cheeks and kiss him. choso began to push, slowly slipping past your folds and- the stretching burn, it was there again and made you tense up.

choso grasped your hands, intertwining them and showered your face with kisses, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement. the feeling was familiar and yet strange at the same time, the girth of his fingers were nothing compared to his cock. it was a tight fit; you were aware of him, so aware of him. muffled, you heard choso telling you to relax, that he didn’t want to hurt you, to take your time. he was still pushing, distracting you from the uncomfortable pain with kisses. with one last thrust, he’s pushed the entirety of him in you. faintly, you could feel pain gradually ebbing away. the fullness of him, the throbbing; you clenched around him, a quiet moan leaving your lips as choso’s hips jerk in response.

“you okay? can i move now?” he whispered against your lips. you nodded, feeling choso smile against your lips. your breath hitched in anticipation as he pulls out ever so slightly before thrusting back in. you let out a whimper at the sudden thrum of incoming pleasure, hands squeezing his. choso thrusted his length in and out of you slowly, still wanting you to get used to it. the drag of it against your walls, the way his cock ever so slightly bumped against that spot inside of you that made your body sing - you sobbed out his name, hips tilting up to meet his movements. choso had no qualms obliging to your unspoken wants, upping the pace once he’s made sure you felt comfortable.

slowly, his inhibitions fell apart upon seeing you desperately cling onto him, moaning out his name as he pulled out and drove back in, deeper than before. you saw stars when he hit the spot inside of you, burying himself inside of you completely. it’s been a short amount of time but choso was quick to figure out what made you shake in pleasure in particular, memorizing every little nudge and wiggle that would have you gasp out his name. the closeness, the intimacy, it easily beat everything else that you’ve ever done before but it was now that you realized that no one could compare to choso. while your initial goal was to simply learn and gain some experience, somewhere along the way, you veered off the path. perhaps your goal was never to find out what it was like engaging in sexual activities but rather to experience it with someone you loved. it was then that you realized you didn’t care about these things unless you could experience them with choso.

while choso was no stranger to having people in his bed, the sight of you was one he would never be able to get out of his head again. how your moans and whimpers were getting more frequent with each thrust, how you were sobbing his name whenever he hit particularly deep inside of you, how your small hands were holding onto his, how you clenched around him whenever he praised you. he wanted to keep you for himself, to impale himself in you in such ways that you could never look at other people the same way anymore. “i- i’m close,” you hiccuped between sobs, back lurching from the bed. “choso, p- please, i wanna cum, i-”

“i’ve got you, princess,” he assured you, diving down to kiss you feverishly. relentlessly, his hips pistoned against yours, desperate to make you cum. choso couldn’t hold back any longer, he was close, so close. wanting to cum with you, he reached down to rub your clit. your reaction was almost instantaneous, legs pressing against his side as you came, his name on your lips like a prayer. he came with you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as groans left his lips, mixed with your name and curses. his hips stuttered as they pressed against you one last time, staying in place until he’s spilled all of him in the condom. you felt like you were floating, still dazed from the intensity of your orgasm. absentmindedly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hand absentmindedly playing with the hair at his nape. choso let out a noise, akin to a cat’s purr, nudging his head against your hand. his gesture made you giggle and you strained your neck to press a kiss against his forehead.

slowly, choso removed himself from you, letting out a breathy laugh as you protested. you made grabby hands at him but he simply tutted, disappearing in the bathroom to dispose of the condom and came back with a wet towel. it felt comforting, the warmth of the towel as well as his gentle touches, lulling you into a sleepy state. it didn’t take long for him to join you again once he was done, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest like the countless times he’s done so before. “how are you feeling? i didn’t hurt you, did i?”

you shook your head, trying to find the right words. in the end, nothing came into your mind to appropriately tell him how mind blowingly good he made you feel so you just settle with: “felt good, really good. didn’t hurt, jus’ felt uncomfortable at first. but you made it okay, it’s okay when it’s with you.”

“i see,” choso let out a relieved breath, laughing as you blinked at him stunned. you looked adorable, still floating and coming down from your high. “i’m glad i was your first, glad i could do it justice. just wanted you to feel good.”

“mhmm, thank you,” you slurred sleepily, arms wrapping around his waist. you felt so warm and loved, not wanting to let go of the feeling just yet. “can we do it again some other day? you promised to show me what you still wanted to do to me.”

“y/n, sweetheart, when will you be coming to visit us again? i know it’s your summer break right now and you’re busy but we thought it might be nice to go on a short family trip. what do you think?” your mother pleaded over the phone. you could see her pout on the screen, her attempt at guilt tripping you into visiting more. truthfully, you felt bad about not having been able to see your family so much - the amount of assignments and final exams was swamping you and you just wanted to get through them before going on vacation. that and the fact that you couldn’t properly look them in the eyes anymore ever since being with choso.

you just couldn’t let go of him, nor could you admit your feelings to him, in fear it would make him uncomfortable. it was irrational, reckless even, to keep paying for a service you technically didn’t need anymore. simply to keep a person you had feelings for around for longer. nobara and maki didn’t know about this either, you knew they would have your head as soon as you confessed. it was irrational and you knew it. and yet it was so hard to let go. with every waking moment, you craved choso, his tenderness and loving gaze, the warmth of his arms, the domesticity that the two of you shared, how natural it seemed when you spent time together. and so you kept returning to him, over and over again

“i’m sorry, mum, i’m just really busy right now. but i promise i’ll let you know when i’m free, okay? i’m sure we can find a fitting date for the trip,” you attempted to soothe your mother, giving her an apologetic smile. she rolled her eyes at you playfully but shrugged it off, knowing that you didn’t mean anything by it. before you could tell her goodbye, your mother suddenly stopped you, waving at the screen.

“sweetheart, one of my friends- her son, i told him about you. he’s a very nice young man and i think you would get along well. when you come visit us, i’ll introduce him to you, yeah?” she explained, a giddy smile creeping onto her lips. “i’ve told him a little about you and your father doesn’t mind either. he has a good background too, i’m trying not to swoon.” she giggled as if she was the one who was to be set up on a date with him.

your eyes widened ever so slightly at her revelation but what shocked you more was that choso had seemingly heard what your mother had said. he was still sleeping when your mother had called you, so you hid in the kitchen to talk, not wanting to disturb his sleep. he stood in the doorway, blinking at you confused. you made sure to turn a little so your mother couldn’t see him. “mum, i told you i’m not really interested yet and want to go at my own pace-”

“honey, i know but the opportunity was just there. i couldn’t pass it up and you can still reject him, no? just try to meet him at least once.”

you sighed. “we’ll talk about it again when i’m home, okay? but don’t put too much hope in it, please.”

“i know, i know. i’ll talk to you again another day. love you, sweetheart,” your mum said goodbye to you and hung up. you groaned, tossing your phone to the side and buried your face in your hands. choso was not supposed to hear any of that. even though you two weren’t really in a relationship, and he had assured you that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else, keeping his work at accompanying clients only, you still felt like you were somewhat betraying him. you felt choso’s presence moving behind you, then his arms wrapping around you, his chin being placed on your head. you couldn’t see the slightly irritated look in his eyes, the jealous glint that told you he didn’t want you to look at anyone but him.

“your mum seems to be eager to find you a partner,” he commented amused. you groaned, swatting at his arm.

“i don’t know why they’re suddenly so persistent after not deeming anyone as suitable for years,” grumbling, you turned slightly, pressing a kiss to choso’s chin. “i’m not really in the mood to go on dates just yet, so she’ll have to deal with it.”

“not in the mood for dates?” choso echoed, pinching your cheek. “not even with me?”

you whined, burying your face in his chest. you didn’t want to let him see how his words excited you. “no, i’m always in the mood for you, for dates with you.”

“that’s good to know. we’re going out later after all,” choso laughed, combing his fingers through your hair. “i did promise to take you to the beach and teach you how to surf.”

one of the reasons you didn’t come visit your parents immediately when your summer break began was because you’d already planned a short trip with choso. weeks ago choso had proposed you’d go to the beach together and you were thrilled by the idea, not having been by the sea in years. you’d rented a little cabin by the beach for the two of you while choso had prepared everything for the car ride. the car ride would be rather long but you weren’t worried about it at all - in the beginning, you’d been apprehensive, rather awkward with him. he eased you into everything, showing you not to be scared of relationships and to just be yourself. conversation was easy with him as if you’d been long term friends, with no worries or restrictions. for weeks, you’d looked forward to the trip, to spend more time with him.

the car ride was filled with laughter and calming music, you shared stories and secrets with each other, you fed him the snacks that you’d made the night before. you felt blissful, happily ignoring all the consequences that might be coming your way - you wanted to enjoy your time with him as much as you could. the dance that the two of you were engaging in, it was romantic and felt so domestic, while skirting around the important issue. inspecting your intertwined hands, you clasped your other free hand around his, rubbing the skin gently. choso shot you a concerned, questioning look but you brushed him off, assuring that nothing was wrong. “i’m just happy to be sharing this uh… boyfriend experience with you, really. i wouldn’t wanna do it with someone else.”

choso shot you a wistful smile, lifting your hand to press a kiss on it. “i’m glad you feel that way. you deserve only the best, someone who treats you like the princess that you are.”

the feeling of the grainy sand below you, wind blowing your hair in every direction, sun on your skin, water splashing against your shins - you felt like suddenly all your worries were washed away. you were still running through the shallow water, giggling as you saw choso catching up on you. upping your speed, you jumped through the water until he managed to grab you by your wrist, pulling you into his chest. he lifted you up, twirling you around in his arms a few times before setting you back on your feet, leaning in to kiss you. “you can’t just run away like that, all our stuff is still stranded over there,” he scolded you, playfully flicking your forehead. you glanced behind you, seeing how choso had already placed all the towels, cooler and bags on the beach chairs.

“it’s okay, we have the beach to ourselves anyways,” you retorted cheekily. choso couldn’t argue, instead rolled his eyes. the beach house that you had rented for the weekend was on the outskirts of the city, a rather quiet spot that also had a private beach. the paranoia that your parents might possibly spot you somewhere was running deep and so you didn’t want to risk anything. choso could teach you how to surf in peace, without any bystanders or crowded spaces. but now that you were sitting on the beach chair, you noticed that choso’s mind seemed to be elsewhere as he clumsily fumbled with the bags. you gnawed at your bottom lip, hoping that your earlier conversation with your mother wasn’t on his mind.

“you okay there? can i help you with anything?”

“huh? yeah,” choso answered after a second of processing, shaking his head. “uh i just get distracted looking at you. you look good in that bikini.”

“oh shut up,” you retorted but hid your face from him, still growing bashful even though you were used to him complimenting you out of nowhere. he shot you a wink, resuming his work. “but… choso, you can talk to me if anything bothers you, you know that?”

“yeah, i know… but don’t worry, i think this is something i have to figure out for myself first before i tell anyone,” he padded over, kissing your forehead. “but i appreciate it.”

deciding to drop the topic, you joined him, watching how he demonstrated his surfing skills. if he didn’t want to talk about it, you would respect it; and maybe, just maybe, he would open up to you about it. you watched as choso surfed through the waves, the sight filling you with bright happiness. he looked so happy to be surfing again, the usual tired look on his face wiped away as if it had never been there in the first place. he looked like he was truly at home, comforted and surrounded by the crashing waves. you understood what he meant by being distracted - choso looked good in his trunks as well, the water drops that were rolling down his body, his exposed upper body, the way his loose, slightly damp hair was falling over his face. you very much enjoyed the sight and almost felt creepy for staring so much.

as per usual, choso was a wonderful teacher, remaining calm and patient while he gave you instructions, comforting you when you weren’t doing so well and was always right by your side encouraging you. you hadn’t had this much fun in a while, especially not with someone other than from your close friend circle. it was easy to lose the track of time when being with him, all your thoughts and anxieties washed away like the seashells at the shore. by the end of the day, you were utterly exhausted, your muscles feeling like jelly. as you laid on the bed, you still felt like you were rocked and swayed back and forth by the waves. it was relaxing, almost lulling you into a deep slumber if it wasn’t for the sound of the running shower and choso’s humming. you opened the window, before returning to bed, wrapping the blanket around you. the sound of waves sloshing against the shore echoed through the room, making you feel like you were actually sleeping at the beach.

it didn’t take long for choso to return; you felt the bed dip beside you before you heard him. pretending to be asleep, you waited until he said anything but were instead greeted with a kiss on your nape. you squirmed a little, the feelings of his lips tickling the sensitive skin. a giggle broke from your lips, unable to stay silent any longer. “did i make you wait for too long?” he asked quietly, grabbing you by the hips to turn you around to face him. you shook your head and gave him a smile, leaning in to peck his lips. “no but i did miss you. did i tell you that i now get what you meant by being distracted? you looked really hot in your trunks and so serious while giving me instructions.”

“ah, really?” choso hovered over you, placing his hands beside your head. you’d only offered simple compliments but he was already so fired up, making you grin. “you can’t just tell me that and expect me not to do anything. don’t you know that i’m always hungry for you? i’ll ravish you right here.”

“what if i want you to ravish me?” you bravely retorted, your voice slightly cracking at the end. rarely were you ever bold with him but at this moment, you might as well indulge him. as an reward for teaching you how to surf and being so patient about it. choso clicked with his tongue, pleased with your reply. before he could move, you suddenly felt an urge to go further, wanting to be the one to initiate intercourse for once. you placed your hands on his chest, pushing gently. he looked at you confused, cocking his head to the side. if it wasn’t for the hungry look in his eyes, you would’ve cooed at how adorable he looked. “uhm can i… suck you off for today? i mean you’re always the one who- who makes me feel so good and i know you said you liked it but i just wanted to return the favour…”

choso short circuited at your request, momentarily leaving his mouth wide open as he stared at you. “y- yeah of course, if that’s what you want,” he spluttered hastily, sitting up on his knees. feeling giddy, you shuffled off the bed, positioning yourself at the edge of the bed and waiting for him to move. choso gulped, slowly moving towards the edge. he leaned down to kiss you, your hands snaked towards the waistband of his sweatpants, some doubt overcame you again, slowing your movements. sensing your hesitation, he patted your head and ruffled your hair. “you don’t have to do it, if you feel too nervous about it.”

“no, i want to, really,” you assured him, grasping the waistband and dragging it down. choso lifted his hips slightly, helping you remove his pants. his boxers followed soon after. gently, you wrapped your hands around his semi-hard cock, giving it some gentle strokes. choso exhaled shakily, leaning back on his hands as he kept his watchful eyes on you. you leaned in, flattening your tongue against the underside, running your tongue over the underside, tracing it until you reached the cockhead. gingerly, you gave it a few kitten licks before wrapping your lips around it. hands still stroking him, you delved in, taking as much as much as you could. choso tilted his head back, moaning loudly. it spurred you on, eagerly you bopped your head against him, paying close attention to the sensitive head as you licked and sucked at it. curiously, you licked the slit, tasting the precum on it. the taste was unfamiliar, nothing like you’d ever had before but you weren’t sure what to make of it. but you weren’t grossed out by it, thankfully.

choso’s hips jerked when you touched a particularly sensitive spot, not being able to control his own body anymore. usually, he was more composed, holding himself back for the sake of you - immediately, he stopped and apologized, staring at you with wide eyes. “fuck, i’m so sorry, that wasn’t meant to happen. did i hurt you?” he cupped your cheek, guiltily examining you.

“‘m okay, don’t worry about it. it just surprised me a little, that’s all. but if it’s what you like… i uh, don’t mind,” you reassured him.

“f- fuck, you can’t just say that because i will and-”

“like i said, i don’t mind. i want to make you feel good too.” reluctantly, choso nodded and relaxed again, letting you proceed. you were eager to make him cum, enthusiastically moving your head along the shaft. you welcomed choso’s shallow thrusts, glancing up to watch his reactions. his skin was beautifully flushed, eyes were closed, groans muffled as he bit his bottom lip. you struggled to take his cock in deeper, instead wrapping your hands around the parts you couldn’t reach. when choso’s thrusts got sloppier, you could tell that he was getting close.

“y/n, fuck- i’m gonna- wait, you-” unable to finish his sentence, he moaned, hips stuttering again as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip. you suckled on his length eagerly, hands pumping the base faster and choso couldn’t keep it in any longer, coming with a loud moan. you continued suckling on the tip, helping him through his orgasm until he’s spilled all of him in your mouth. sitting back on your knees, you removed yourself from him.

eyes wide and glossy, you looked up at him as he pulled away slightly so he could look at you. choso brushed your hair back, then lifted your chin up, tapping your bottom lip. "show me," he said in a low, hoarse voice, patiently waiting until you opened your mouth and showed him. showed him his cum that was still pooling on your tongue. a few seconds passed until he finally reacted - just the sight of you on your knees, obediently following his orders and showing him your work had his insides stirring with something dark, possessive. "swallow," he whispered, adoringly cupping your cheek as you eagerly swallowed. your face felt hot, whether by embarrassment or pride, you didn't know. quietly cursing, he pulled you up while leaning down, meeting your lips halfway.

unceremoniously, choso dropped you on the bed, making you giggle quietly as you bounced on the mattress. hovering over you, he captured your lips in yet another kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him to your body. choso pressed his groin against yours, experimentally rolling his hips to elicit a reaction from you. burying your face into the crook of his neck, you couldn’t help but writhe from the pleasure - and even though you’ve been sleeping with each other, you still felt too shy to ask him for… more. how could you express what exactly you wanted when you were craving all of him? when you wanted to engrave everything into your brain; the feeling of his body against yours, his touch, the sweet as well as the dirty words he whispered into your ear. it was almost unfair how easily he could draw a reaction from you, as if he’d memorized every little aspect about you already.

choso nipped at your neck, about to leave a mark when you frantically pushed at his chest. “no visible marks, i told you!” you reminded him, almost feeling bad when you saw his disappointed face. but rules were rules, you didn’t want your parents to find out you were sneaking around with someone; you were barely able to look into their eyes as is. he huffed against your neck, burying his face in the crook of your neck in frustration. seconds passed without a reaction before he finally sat up on his knees, hands reaching out to tug on your shirt. “but everywhere else is fine, hm?” he mused, dragging his warm hands across your chest to your shoulder to push the fabric off.

“i- i guess,” you spluttered, barely having any time to react as he’s already moved on, lavishing your breasts with kisses while leaving a trail of hickeys on them. you whimpered, hips rolling up against his. through your panties, you could feel the outlines of his cock; the anticipation of him filling you up made you salivate. choso was quick to remove your panties and rolling a condom on upon hearing your desperate whimpers that were urging him to move faster. no matter how many times you’d already slept together, he could never get enough of you - you made him feel like a teenager again, like he was constantly insatiable and hungry for you. judging from the look in your eyes, you seemed to feel the same way.

choso angled his cock against your entrance before sinking in, moaning in unison with you. he grasped your hands, pinning them against the pillows as you reached out, trying to touch him. you sobbed in disappointment, just wanting to feel him but choso was having none of it. the complaint was quickly forgotten when he started thrusting, the sound of his hips smacking against yours filling the room. he was diligent, hitting that spot inside you over and over again, enjoying how your legs that were wrapped around his waist were trembling. you were drowning, drowning in him, in the pleasure he so graciously provided you. choso painted your chest with marks, placing them dangerously close to where they would be peeking out underneath clothes. he knew you didn’t want anyone to see them but fuck, he wanted people to keep their hands away from you, wanted them to know that you were his.

you sung his praises, hips quickly bucking against his as he buries himself in you to the hilt. he filled you up so well, always dragging against your walls so deliciously. almost feral, choso fucked you harder, putting all his frustrations and emotions into the strength of his thrusts. it left you feeling breathless, clenching around him hard as you climbed higher and higher. never had choso fucked you like this before, like he was trying to prove something - you sobbed, tears springing forth from the intensity. it felt good, so good and you wanted to cum so bad, wanted to release. the pleasant warmth was spreading throughout your body, almost unbearably hot as you neared your climax. it erupted within you explosively, leaving you writhing in a babbling, incoherent mess. for many moments, your orgasm wrecked through you, making you see white and stars. in your euphoria, you didn’t notice how choso had cummed with you, whispering sweet praises in your ear as he rode you through your high. you didn’t notice how he disappeared, returning with a wet towel as per usual, how he kisses away the tears at the corner of your eyes. through your hazy mind, you could tell that he wrapped the blanket around you before disappearing again.

it took you a while to return back to your senses, marvelling about the sex you just had. what had possessed choso in that moment? could it be because you’d offered to suck him off? or was he so pent up the entire day? the click of the door made you lift your head towards the source of the sound, cooing when you saw choso padding towards you. he yawned quietly, crawling under the blanket and wrapping his arms around you. "exhausted?" you questioned him, nuzzling into him.

"mhmm, i feel like i could sleep in until noon tomorrow," as usual, he ran his fingers along your spine, drawing shapes on your back. sometimes you thought you could feel him spelling something out on your skin but the touches were always so fleeting that it was impossible for you to make it out. whatever it was, he must've been too wary or scared to share it with you. you were reminded of your earlier conversation - choso still hadn't said anything so you wanted to bring it up, not wanting any issues to arise between you.

"choso? do you want to talk about what was wrong earlier? i know you said you wanted to think about it, but i was wondering…"

choso interrupted you. "are you going to go on a date with the guy that your mum mentioned this morning?"

you shot him a bewildered look. so he had been thinking about it. you hesitated, not sure what to tell him. should you be upfront and tell him how you feel? or give him a mild version, so he didn't feel cornered by you?

"i'm… i'm not sure yet. the thought of going on a date with someone else is kind of daunting but i think i'll do it just so my mum's happy."

"i see." uncomfortable silence seeped between the two of you. you could tell that choso was irritated, the frown on his face clearly indicating it. and yet, he didn't elaborate, leaving you to figure out what he meant by that. not daring to move, you stayed still, waiting for him to continue. choso sighed, placing his forehead against yours. "i think this is selfish of me but i can't stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i wish… i wish it was only me that you looked at."

"you don't want me to go on a date with him?"

"yeah. i- i can't tell you why that is. it's selfish and dumb, hence why i didn't want to tell you. and it's not something that you should worry about. i'm just your escort after all, there's nothing more between us."

his words stung. even though it was the truth, the words still stung, driving a knife right into your heart. it was the very thing that nobara and maki had warned you about. but here you were, heart breaking in a million pieces. perhaps it was the fact that choso didn't tell you the reason, didn't seem to trust you with it, that made you recoil immediately. the walls around your heart were immediately put back into place, safeguarding you from any further harm. he wasn’t obligated to tell you anything and you knew that - there was probably also another reason why he felt that way. any further digging would probably make him recoil as well, it wouldn’t do you any good. whatever was growing between you, it had to stop now. choso simply saw you as a client, probably had been this entire time. again, you were reminded of the fact that he might have been acting this entire time, none of the affection he showed you ever being real.

“i- yeah… i guess,” you replied dejectedly, looking away from him. “i’ll figure it out with him, don’t worry. i’ll just keep my mum happy with it, there’s nothing more to it.”

choso bit his lip, refraining from replying to it any further. you already knew more than you were ever supposed to, he should have never let it slip that he didn’t like seeing you with other potential love interests. it pained him to keep this hidden, keep it a secret from you - but the less you knew, the better. he couldn’t imagine you being okay with being in a relationship with him while he was still an escort, nor did he think that your parents would be thrilled about it. from what you’d revealed to him, he could tell that they treasured you and wanted to minimize any possible harm as much as possible. and that included hand-picking a suitable partner for you. he might never be what your parents envisioned for you and he might never become your love interest so every session that you booked was a blessing to him.

sighing, he placed one last kiss on your cheek before wishing you a good night. but even when he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, he was wide awake, not being able to stop the onslaught of thoughts.

weeks passed without you ever contacting choso again. your resolve would have never been this strong, hadn’t nobara intervened. while you were moping and still feeling restless, helpless even, she made sure to delete his number and made you take care of the bills before cutting off contact entirely. normally, she would have commented on it - but seeing how you were struggling through your first heartbreak, she decided to let it be. and because maki wouldn’t have hesitated to have her head if you’d ever snitched. maki had encouraged you to take your mind off things, dragging you along to some of the sports classes she attended. it did lift your mood ever so slightly, much to your surprise, it was more fun that you’d originally anticipated. maki attended so many different classes that seemed so intense that you were scared to join at first. in between the classes, you spent more time with your friends. gradually you opened up to them, explaining them the entire issue with choso and how you had struggled to let go. you told them one by one, until it was finally time to let megumi know.

out of everyone, megumi scared you the most - not because he was intimidating or violent but because you knew how he would react. he’d most definitely be upset about it because he was protective over his friends, not wanting them to be harmed in any way. you’d pleaded that at least nobara should tag along to knock some sense into him, should he snap - but megumi’s reaction surprised you. when you finished your story, he was awfully quiet. you assumed he was boiling in anger, reaching out to appease him but he was frowning, making a contemplative face. “uh listen, i think that choso’s yuuji’s brother.”

“he’s what?” nobara’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. megumi had recently started going out with someone that he’d met during work and though he hadn’t introduced you to said person yet, you did know that his name was yuuji.

“yuuji’s brother. i haven’t met him yet but he’s been complaining about his brother for weeks now,” megumi explained, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “choso’s an escort, right? it has to be yuuji’s brother. i’ve stayed over at yuuji’s place a couple of times… yuuji was venting, asking me about advice on how to get his brother out of a rut. apparently, choso’s been affected by this uh… somewhat breakup as well. yuuji’s suggested to him that he should reach out to you to talk but he said something about his work and your parents...”

“huh. what an interesting coincidence…” nobara mumbled but narrowed her eyes at you. “but you’re not going back to him, right?”

all the blood in your body froze. why had choso brought up your parents? they had never been a part of your relationship, you had only told him how overprotective they were and how they liked choosing your partners and friends for you. could it be?

“no, i don’t think so. i’m… very conflicted about our feelings to each other. it was stupid to give into my feelings for him in the first place. i hired someone to act as my fake boyfriend, someone who does this for a living. i think they know better than to catch feelings for their clients,” you sighed frustrated, shaking your head. there was no way in hell this situation could ever turn back around, even if you now knew that choso had also been affected. and still, he never reached out to me, you thought bitterly.

“i think you should talk it out though, if he does reach out to you,” megumi chimed in, awkwardly patting your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “from what yuuji’s told me, it does seem like his feelings are genuine. he didn’t outright push you away, right? who knows what could happen?”

in the end, you couldn’t help but confess to your parents. secrets were bound to be revealed one way or another and you figured it was better you opened up before they found out from someone else. the uncomfortable silence that spread through your apartment created a gloomy atmosphere; the tension was thick and palpable, making you shuffle in your seat in unease. your father hadn’t uttered any word while your mother had completely lost it, not understanding why you hadn’t instead chosen one of the boys she’d always introduced you to.

“all this time you were seeing this boy? and not once did you let us know. i could have asked my friend if they knew someone, their sons are so nice-”

“mum, i already told you i wanted to find someone on my own without having my options being presented to me on a silver plate. and you’re always so disappointed when i end up rejecting them after going through all of the hassle,” you interrupted her, giving her a defiant look. it wasn’t often that you opposed your parents like this but you felt like it was needed - your mother didn’t understand you, nor did she try. you were an adult, for fuck’s sake. you were very much capable of making your own decisions and mistakes to learn from.

“and yet you went to hire an escort! why didn’t you go and meet some of your classmates? i don’t understand why you went such lengths and then even ended up falling in love with them! how would you even pursue a relationship with them?” your mother seethed at you, knuckles blanching from how hard she was gripping her handbag. your father placed a hand on hers, whispering some soothing words in her ear.

“darling, i think y/n knows well that she’s made a mistake and is hurting from it. we don’t need to add to the stress, do we?” he assured her, then looking at you. “y/n, you know that i’m disappointed in you as well. but i don’t blame you for it, i think it’s partly my fault that you felt the need to hire an escort just to… gain some experience. i did take away all your possibilities of a relationship after all…”

“don’t encourage her! this problem won’t just be solved by you spoiling her again, do you know what kind of consequences it could h-”

a loud knock interrupted your mother’s rambling. you were confused - you didn’t expect anyone else for today. it was too late for someone to bring packages. who could it be? you excused yourself, padding towards the door to see who it was. you swore that you briefly suffered from a heart attack when the door swung open to reveal choso. he stared at you equally as stunned, seemingly not having expected you to open and greet him. “w- what are you doing here?” you asked, hating how shaky your voice sounded. how your heart soared, having missed his presence around you. the feelings had never been properly buried, only hidden by a thin layer of pretense that was now quickly being washed away.

“i’m sorry for just turning up unannounced… i was hoping- hoping to be able to talk to you for a bit? i wanted to explain myself,” choso replied, unaware of the two persons in your apartment that were straining their necks to be able to get a look at him.

you groaned. why now? the timing was just too comical, fate must really hate you. “i’m sorry, my parents are here right now. maybe, another t-”

“aha, so this is the boy my daughter has been sleeping with,” your mother appeared behind you, snarling at choso maliciously. panicking, your father had followed her quickly, holding her back by her arm. “you have some nerve appearing here as if nothing happened, what is it that you-”

“darling.” your father cleared his voice, shooting daggers at her. “there’s no need to be rude.”

swiftly, he introduced himself and your mother to choso, politely shaking his hand. choso remained calm, as usual, and introduced himself as well. if he was shocked by the entire ordeal, he sure didn’t show it. his face remained a perfect poker face, no emotions seeping through. “i wanted to talk to your daughter, ma’am. i assume she’s told you about our relationship and how we broke apart. there is no ulterior motive here, i just wanted to explain myself and talk it out.”

“that’s-!”

your father interrupted your mother again, not giving her another opportunity to spit venom at choso. “i think that is a good idea. though she has not opened up about everything, i can tell that she is hurting as much as you are. i believe a discussion would be very productive. but what is your intention? what are you going to do once you’ve explained yourself?”

suddenly, you felt like you were forgotten or invisible in the entire discussion. were they ignoring you? you were standing right there and yet no one was addressing you. you huffed, trying to pull their focus back on you. “nothing’s gonna happen, dad. there was nothing for us to work with and there won’t be.”

choso felt like he’d been slapped. he didn’t know what to make of your reaction but he came here for one reason only: to give you the closure that you deserved and he wasn’t going to leave until he accomplished just that. “i intend to apologize to her. judging from your wife’s reaction, you don’t seem to like me very much. i can’t imagine you would ever accept me, i know i don’t live up to your standards. i don’t deserve your daughter, she deserves so much more than what i can offer. and i’m aware of it. but if she’s willing to have me, i’ll try my very best to live up to your standards, to prove myself to you. i just want to be with her and make her happy. i’m in love with her and that’s what i intended to tell her.”

your heart stopped at his confession. all this time, choso loved you? megumi had been right all along. choso returned your feelings and he was here, so close and yet so far. dread filled you as you realized your parents could possibly drive him away, make him disappear from your life with just a snap of their fingers. you cherished choso more than you were aware of, the adoration running deep in your veins even when you were trying to reject him.

“i see. that’s reason enough for me. we’ve already let her have a piece of our mind, i don’t think she needs more telling off. my little girl has grown so much and it’s time to let her make her own decisions, growing and mistakes,” your father shot your mother a look. she’d calmed down, choso’s explanation seemingly having brought her back to her senses. she looked away, not wanting to look him in the eyes. “we’ll let you deal with this. but know that if she does take you back, i won’t go easy on you, alright? the bars are high and i don’t intend to lower them just because you love her. prove to me, that you’re worthy of her.”

“i will,” choso sounded so sure and confident that it made your father grin - you sure had found someone who took great care of you and wasn’t afraid to stand tall in front of your father. and that he liked, someone who wasn’t scared to back down from a challenge, someone who would be the perfect partner for you. as your parents said goodbye and left, he gave choso a pat on the shoulder before exiting the apartment, leaving the two of you to your own devices.

you didn’t know what to say, how to start. standing in the hallway was awkward but you couldn’t move just yet, instead wanting to hear what he had to say first. “you love me?” you croaked, your voice failing you. now that your parents were gone, you could freely show your emotions, not being able to hold the tears back any longer. choso panicked, fussing over you as you started to cry. furiously, you wiped the tears away with the sleeves of your sweater.

“i do. i uhm wish i had found a better way to tell you this. i figured that you probably thought that everything we did was simply a facade but i promise you that it was all real. i don’t know when exactly but i started falling for you along the way and it was hard… to remind myself that you were a client and i was just there to provide the service to you, you know? i had no right to get mad at you if you decided to go and see other people. and i wasn’t sure of your feelings for me, it was…” choso trailed off, struggling to find the right word but you knew what he meant and nodded, signaling him to continue. “i just didn’t want to tie you to me when you… when you might not like me back or even want to be with an escort.”

you sniffled quietly, wrapping your arms around him immediately, with such a speed that it almost knocked the air out of his lungs. confused, choso wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and rubbing your back soothingly. he was relieved that you didn’t push him away at least and let him explain everything in one go. he felt more at ease now and was at peace with the decision to immediately leave and never butt in your life again in case you rejected him.

“all this time, i also loved you,” you mumbled, an upset frown on your face. “i- i just kept thinking that you’d never return my feelings and that you were just playing boyfriend because i hired you to do so and-”

you hiccuped, another sob tearing from your throat.

“when you told me not to go on that date and immediately followed it with you only being my escort and nothing more, it hurt me so much and i know it was stupid and childish of me to react in such a way but… i was just spiraling, i love you so much and didn’t know where to place the anxieties and negative feelings.”

choso shushed you quietly when your sobs grew more frequent and you let him pick you up, clinging onto him as he walked over to the couch and sat on it with you on his lap. “shh, you’re okay, we’re okay,” he mumbled against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m sorry i hurt you so much, i was not aware that you already liked me back then and that my words would have such an effect on you.”

over and over, choso apologized quietly until you calmed down, slumping against his chest. you stayed silent, trying to piece your thoughts and feelings back together so as to present him with a coherent and logical question. your mind was in shambles and you hoped that choso would at least get what you were hinting at. “so w- what do we do now? where do we- we go from here?”

“as i’ve already told your dad… if you’ll have me, i’ll make it up to you, all the hurt that i’ve caused you. i love you, so much. i want to be your boyfriend, and this time officially.”

“i like the sound of it,” you mumbled, tilting your head back to look at him. “will you be my boyfriend?”

“it would be an honour, princess.”

with a kiss, choso sealed the deal, easily catapulting you back on cloud nine. who would have thought that the escort you’d hired to be your fake boyfriend would turn out to be the prince charming you had always hoped for, surpassing even your wildest dreams and expectations. choso was everything you wanted and more - he was the person you wanted to wake up to every morning, the person you wanted to come home to. he was the person with whom you wanted to spend your life with, the person that loved you so unconditionally and never expected anything in return. you were lucky that he chose you, that he loved you back. out of all the persons in the universe, it was him.

he was perfect and he was yours.

p.s.: if you've made it until the end: thank you so much for reading!

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[fandom-puff]

Mating

Pairing: Remus Lupin X Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: you’ve done a good enough job of covering up your attraction to your new colleague... that is until the moon cycle heightens his senses...

AN: I’m getting there with these requests! I’ve been going through them at my own pace- sorry if I’ve rejected your request though- id rather not write it if I don’t have the inspiration to do so 💖💖💖

Also I went to TOWN on this one, so feedback is greatly appreciated !!

Gif creds to owner as usual x

Warnings: rough, possessive sex, swearing, breeding kink , werewolf tricks (scents, mating, knotting)

Drawing your robe tighter around yourself, silently cursing Severus for putting people in detention. You had agreed to take over his patrols for the night, when in reality, you wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Sighing, you held your lit wand out in front of you, walking up the corridor, occasionally nodding at a passing ghost, telling Peeves to bugger off, greeting snoozing portraits...

The silence of the dark corridors allowed you to mull over your thoughts, figure out some lesson plans, what you would get people for christmas the next time you visited Hogsmeade, but as usual, your train of thought wandered, soon landing on a particular Professor. Smiling dumbly to yourself, you pictures him in your mind, from his grey-flecked hair to his shabby, patched robes; his kind, tired eyes to his light stubble and moustache; his trim chest to his long, elegant fingers...

Shuddering slightly, you tugged your lip between your teeth. What that man could do with his fingers, you mused, remembering at dinner earlier that evening, watching as he wrapped his hands around his goblet- you came to the conclusion that those fingers would look much better wrapped around your throat...

You were so lost in your thoughts that you bumped headlong into the object of your desires. How did you know it was him? Was it his gentle hands grasping your arms to stop you falling backwards? Was it the gentle words he uttered asking if you were okay? No. It was his scent, of all things, which lingered on his comfy knitted jumper- tea and books and... the forbidden forest... you couldn’t help but inhale a few gulps before mumbling your apology, making to move past him. Those hands grabbed your arm again, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Why not walk with me, YN? Your patrol won’t be as lonely,” he said kindly, smiling down at you. You could see a slight glint of his white teeth in the wandlight as you nodded. Together and in relative silence, you strolled the corridors, occasionally murmuring to one another- yes the weather had been a bit rubbish lately, that book is excellent, no I didn’t know it’s the full moon in three days...

You knew about remus’s condition, as everyone on the staff did. Why was he bringing it up? Did he think you were scared? Did he think you would run away once it clicked? You didn’t care that he was a werewolf, of course you didn’t. If anything, it often made you wonder what he was like in bed before the Full moon. He seemed tired all the time, but you had read about mating- would mild-mannered Remus Lupin evolve into a primal beast? Would he dig his nails into your skin as he got carried away? Would he fuck you from behind like an animal? Did he have a deep-rooted urge to fill you with his seed and watch you swell with his pups...?

“YN? You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Remus’s voice shook you from your depraved thoughts.

“Hmm?” You asked, letting out a shaky breath. Your knees were wobbly and you could feel heat and wetness pooling in your knickers. You would most certainly be fucking yourself tonight thinking of him.

“I said we’re at my rooms. You’re very welcome to come in for a cup of tea if you like? Might have something stronger in a cupboard somewhere for a nightcap,” he said, smirking slightly. Were your eyes deceiving you or did he just lick his lips?

“I... Er... yes please?” You said, nibbling your lip. Your midnight masturbation would have to wait tonight it seemed. You took a seat on one of Lupin’s armchairs as he pottered about the kitchenette, fixing tea for you both. He soon carried it over and sat opposite you as you sipped at your drinks, once again silent. Remus inhaled deeply through his nose and leg out a soft sigh, before fixing you with a stare, his eyes flashing amber- or was that just the firelight playing tricks?

“God, I wish I was a legilimens,” he hummed. You frowned, cocking up your eye brow and setting your teacup down.

“Why’s that?” You asked, leaning forward, your lips slightly parted.

“Because I’d be able to figure out what’s got you so aroused,” he murmured. You gulped, biting your lip hard as you stared at one another before your lips were smashed together in a messy, desperate kiss. Your teeth clashed and you were both grabbing handfuls of the other’s hair as Remus pulled you into his lap, moaning lowly. “I guess that answers that question,” he grunted as you tipped your head back and sighed.

“H-how did you know?” You gasped as his teeth scraped right over your pulse point.

“Your eyes glaze over when you daydream,” he grinned, nibbling your earlobe. “And do you want to know a lesser-known fact about werewolves?” You nodded eagerly, your nails scraping over his scalp. “Around and on the full moon, our senses peak. Touch, hearing, sight, taste... smell... I could smell your arousal before we were even on the same corridor, YN... now tell me... was that all for me?”

You shuddered as his growl vibrates through your throat. “Yes!” You whimpered, trying to grind on him, but there were too many layers between you both and you whined out dejectedly. “A-all for you, Remus, f-for ages now!” Remus grunted and licked at the blood vessel at the side of your neck, you pulse throbbing against his tongue.

“I know, darling. Moony knows...” you sighed softly, eyes rolling back as you felt gentle hands on your waist, stilling your movements. “If we carry on, YN... Moony will take over. He will claim you as his mate, eternally. If that is what you want, I am more than happy to oblige, but if you are even a shred unsure, please leave my chambers. We can discuss this after the moon when it is safe-”

You pressed a tender kiss to his lips, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. “I want this. I’ve wanted this for ages... please, remus, I’m yours. I’ve felt... drawn to you since we met. It makes sense,”

He smiled weakly. “You understand what you are getting yourself into, this close to the moon? Our first coupling together will not be tender. Passionate, most certainly, but by no means gentle,” you could feel his hands trembling from the effort of keeping control.

“I’m yours, remus,” you whispered, bringing one of his hands down to cup your soaked, clothed heat, biting your lip hard. “I want this. Please, remus, mate with me,”

It was as if something snapped inside him. Without the aid of your hand, he pressed his hand into your heat, feeling how slick you were even through your knickers, attacking your neck with feverish kisses as you rutted against his hand, the heel of his palm mashing into your clit in the most deliciously searing way. Reluctantly, remus pulled his hand away, kissing away your whimpers of protest as he carried you to his bedroom, flinging you down on the bed and hovering over you, his thumb and forefinger tracing the hem of your shirt. “Take it off, remus,” you begged, and he was all too happy to oblige, soon stripping you to your underwear. Gulping, he looked you in the eye as he trailed one finger up your navel, grinning as you shivered and arched your back. “Need to feel you, Remus, please!” You pleaded. Normally, remus would be unwilling to undress fully, ashamed of his scars, but this close to the Moon, he had only one thing on his mind. Almost comically quickly, he tugged his jumper, shirt and trousers off, kicking them aside, practically pouncing on you to kiss you again. You pouted at not being quite able to see his erection straining at his boxers, but were quickly consoled when you felt it pressing hard against your thighs.

“Remus!” You moaned, trailing your hands up his strong back, your fingertips dancing over the silvery ridges of his scars, clutching onto him as though your life depended on it. You could feel the heat radiating off him, hear his pulse quickening just like your own, hear him panting above you. You were so close to him, yet so far, your underwear providing an unbearably wide wall between you both as you longed to feel him against your most sensitive parts. As if reading your mind, remus briefly pulled away and with a flick of his wand, you were both completely bare. Mouth ajar, you eyed up his cock, feeling your cunt clench around nothing at just the thought of accommodating his throbbing length and girth. Sensing your worry, remus nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed your pulse point gently. “I won’t hurt you, darling,” he whispered. “Nor will Moony,” nodding, you spread your legs. Remus groaned as he inhaled, already getting drunk off the scent of your soaked nether region. “Another time, my dear, I am going to drink from your cunt until you can’t come any more,”

You shivered and nodded, biting your lip. “That had best be a promise,” you moaned out, pushing his hair out of his face, breathy gasps and moans escaping you as you felt the bulbous head of his cock tapping against your throbbing clit. “Please, remus,” you begged, your legs moving instinctively to wrap around him.

Your begging was all he needed. He pushed his thick cock into you, stretching you out, grasping your hips to stop your wiggling as he revelled in the soaking heat of your clenching channel, soon moving his hands to grasp your thighs and hold them further apart. “I am going to mate with you, yn,” he growled. “I am going to claim you as mine, and I will be yours. I will fill you with my seed until your swollen with my pups. And when I come, you will feel my cock swell inside you to make sure my seed takes root,”

The filth spewing from his lips had your head reeling, and you bucked your hips up eagerly, begging him to do all of those things as he began fucking you relentlessly, the sounds of skin slapping and the wet noises of your coupling filling the small room as you gripped onto eachother. Remus’s lips found yours and you moaned loudly into his mouth as his tongue collided with yours before he sucked on it gently, sending jolts of pleasure sizzling through your every nerve. You had never felt more alive, more full, more worshiped than you did in that moment, your nails dug into remus’s arms as his thrusting became sloppy as he neared his end. “P-please don’t stop, Remus! Don’t pull out, please! Need to feel you fill me up properly!” You cried, your head resting on his shoulder. Remus grunted and nodded, his hips snapping hard against yours as he neared his peak.

“Bite my neck, YN, love!” He grunted. “Mark me as your mate while I do the same to- Ah! Fuck! Good girl!” You sunk your teeth into his pulse point, sucking harshly. Instinctively, you knew just where to bite, and you gently licked over the wound, moaning lowly as you felt the base of his cock begin to swell as he stilled inside you, the first spurt of cum painting your walls as his groaned out lowly. He basked in his orgasm for a brief moment, before leaning down to suck and bite your neck the same way you had.

You screamed.

The bite to your neck caused a white-hot surge of pleasure to rip through you as you felt your trembling body come undone, your stretched walls clenching tight around Remus’s swollen cock, milking every last drop out of him as you panted, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overwhelming pleasure and the rush of hormones your mating had caused.

Cooing gently, remus lowered you carefully onto your side, facing him, his cock still swollen inside you for the time being. The slight movement had you whimpering and Reaching up to kiss him messily. “I love you,” you moaned, hiding your face in his neck as your body relaxed.

Remus smiled gently and kissed your head and face over and over, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I’m sorry it was so intense, darling. It’s not always like that, I promise,” he whispered.

“N-no... I loved that. The connection, both emotional and... physical,” you reached up and stroked the tender bite at your throat, shuddering as it twinged. “I am yours,” you murmured, reaching to kiss him gently.

“And I am yours,” he responded, stroking your hair. “My beautiful, beautiful mate, I love you,”

Soon, his cock softened enough to slip out of you, and you groaned softly, already very achey from your coupling. Remus smiled apologetically and spelled away the remnants of your pleasure, tugging the covers up around you. Instinctively, you massaged your lower belly, although you knew it was unlikely that he had knocked you up so soon, especially as you were on wizarding contraceptives. You frowned slightly, a sad twinge rattling your innermost instincts. Remus laughed gently.

“Soon, sweetheart. Soon you will swell with my pups. Just not quite yet,” he said gently, knowing that your mating would have unlocked something deep rooted in your instincts, something rather maternal. You pouted a little but nodded, curling into his side. He was right. There would be plenty of time for breeding later. Before then, you and your mate had some catching up to do before the full moon...

Tags: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @rabeccablake @sambucky8 @eleven-times-lively @talksoprettyjjx @extra-trash77 @rangerelik @dracosbbygorl

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[likeahorribledream]

On The Run

Request: ''I had a bad dream'' with Steve Rogers. - @fangirllife98

Summary: After the incidents from Civil War, you and Steve are on the run together.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader / Nomad!Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: Nothing triggering, I think? I suck at warnings. There isn't any physical description for the reader.

Notes at the end.

+ This is not proofread, I apologize in advance for all the mistakes you're about to see.

Steve Rogers had been your friend since he had come out of the ice. You used to work for SHIELD but you were neither an agent or an Avenger, you worked in the medical field and you had been hired to monitor Steve’s health until he woke up and after. You spent a lot of time with him and quickly became close friends. You both have very similar personalities and it made it very easy to get along. He could spend hours talking to you about his life from before and he could listen to you for hours as you tried to explain to him everything that was new and different.

He loved that you weren’t an agent or an Avenger, it allowed him to have his own little escape from that part of his life whenever it got to be too much. You were, and still are, one of his best friends and he trusts you with his life.

When he decided to go look for Bucky, he wanted you to come with him. In case Bucky needed medical help, you were the only person he’d trust around his childhood best friend. Of course, you went with him. You had listened to Steve tell you hundreds of stories about the trouble he’d get into with his friend, Bucky was too important for him to refuse to go look for him with Steve.

You hadn’t expected to become fugitives of the law, yet here you are a year later; running and hiding with Captain America.

Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda so that he could heal and understand what exactly happened to him, when he came back the feud between him and Tony was far from being over and since he went against the Sokovia Accords, he found himself on the other side of the law and since you had helped him, you were considered an accomplice and were on the ‘’wanted’’ list next to Steve’s name. Tony could have gotten them out of it but when Steve chose Bucky over him, he decided to let him fend for himself. Steve had given you a choice; he could get you a place to live in another country where you’d be safe from the authorities or you could stay with him but that meant you would have to constantly be on the move.

You’d much rather be constantly on the move with your friend, than staying in one place in a country you didn’t know without being able to see him for who knows how long, the choice had been very simple and easy for you.

After a year, the heat had died down and it allowed you to stay in one place for longer periods of time. Steve had grown a beard and let his hair get longer, it made it harder for people to recognize him. Not a lot of people knew what you look like, but you decided to dye your hair from time to time just in case someone might recognize you.

A few days ago, you and Steve went back to New York. It’s Steve’s safe place and it’s so crowded, it makes it hard for anyone to recognize either of you. Steve had found a shady motel in a shady part of town that accepted to be paid in cash, no IDs required and no questions asked. You each had a room, a door connected them and you always left it opened just to keep an eye on each other.

It’s hard to sleep. You haven’t had a single good night of sleep since you left with Steve, you were scared that if you fell into too deep of a sleep, you wouldn’t hear if someone came for you.

Tonight is your third night in a row at this motel, you were tired of eating food from the vending machines so you decided to go get some takeouts for dinner. Steve doesn’t like when you go out on your own but it was too risky for him to go with you, that’s why you mainly ate food from vending machines. After dinner, you took showers in your respective rooms. After your shower, you put on a pair of sweats and a tank top and sat on your bed, waiting for Steve to join you to watch a movie.

‘’Come on, old man.’’ You called out towards his room.

He was taking his time and you were anxious to get the movie started.

His head poked out from his bathroom door, his hair completely drenched.

‘’That nickname wasn’t funny years ago when you used it for the first time, and it’s not funny now.’’

You laughed and pointed at your smile. ‘’Speak for yourself, I personally think it’s funny.���’

He rolled his eyes.

‘’Come on, Stevie. I’m tired.’’

Steve squinted as he looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. ‘’It’s barely 8:30. How am I the old man here?’’

‘’You were born at the beginning of the 1900s, I was born at the end of the 1900s thus making you old.’’

‘’Well, give me 5 minutes and I’ll be right there. You can start the movie, I’ll still be able to hear it from here.’’ He told you, going back into the bathroom but leaving the door slightly opened.

You did as he said, you pressed play on the movie you had chosen earlier and sat with your back against the headboard, pillows behind you to make it more comfortable.

Five minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom and sat down next to you. He lifted his arm to let you snuggle up against his body and then laid it on your back, his hand resting on your hip.

Movie night always meant cuddle time.

Though you loved Steve with all of your heart and he loved you with all of his, the last few months had started to get rough for the both of you. You had never realized how much you were fond of hugs and human touch until you couldn’t do either. You came to a mutual understanding that, to keep your sanity, you would have cuddle time and it had sincerely helped better both of your moods.

Once the movie was over Steve turned off the TV, gave you a kiss on your forehead and went back to his room for the night. As soon as the lights were off, you fell asleep.

You were woken up a few hours later by something touching your foot above your covers. You quickly opened your eyes and relaxed when you saw Steve standing at the foot of your bed.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ Your voice was barely audible as you were still half asleep.

‘’I- I had a bad dream. Really bad. Can I stay with you?’’ He whispered.

You could hear how anxious he was and that woke you up. You grabbed the covers that were around your shoulders and lifted them up. Steve quickly walked around the bed and joined you, settling under the sheets. You waited until he was completely laid down and lowered the covers on top of both of your bodies.

‘’Are you ok?’’ You whispered.

You were laying on your side, facing him while he was laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. He turned his head and looked at you. His eyes were looking at every detail of your face, trying to burn this image of you into his brain so he’d never forget how beautiful you looked in this exact moment.

Steve’s had a crush on you since the first day he met you. At first he didn’t think too much of it, thinking it was just because you were the first woman he’d seen in over 70 years. Then, you two became really close friends and his feelings only got stronger throughout the years but he was going through a lot and he didn’t think it was fair of him to drag you into his problems so he decided to wait before telling you how he felt. He was finally gathering up the courage around the time Bucky resurfaced and before he knew it the two of you were on the run and he was terrified to confess his feelings to you and that you’d reject him. You two literally only had each other, he couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. Not when it was the only thing keeping the both of you completely sane.

You were both so oblivious, it was almost painful. Steve thought he’d ruin your friendship by telling you how he felt and you were keeping your very similar feelings to yourself because you didn’t think you were good enough for Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy. Though you tried not to let it show, you were a very insecure person and you barely felt like you were good enough to be friends with him, there’s no way he’d ever see you as girlfriend material.

‘’I don’t think I am.’’ He finally answered, whispering too.

He laid on his side to face you. It was pitch black in your room, but street lamps outside still managed to peak out from between the blinds, allowing you to see Steve’s face a little better. Whereas with his enhanced everything, Steve could see you very clearly.

‘’What do you need?’’ You asked softly.

‘’You.’’ He answered without hesitation.

You had one hand tucked under your head and you reached out to the other one, brushing your fingers against his jawline soothingly.

‘’I’m right here.’’

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle touch on his jaw. When he opened his eyes again, he reached out over to you to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You were so close to him that you had to tilt your head back to be able to look at him while he had to look down. You moved your hand to the back of his head and played with his hair that was still a little damp from his shower earlier.

‘’Do you want to talk about your dream?’’ You offered knowing that sometimes talking about it helped him.

He shook his head no, his eyes on you and never looking away.

‘’I don’t want to talk.’’

His hand that rested at the small of your back was now moving up to cup the side of your face, using his thumb to gently stroke your cheek.

Somehow, Steve’s face felt closer than it had a few seconds ago. Your heart started racing and you were sure he could hear it. His thumb moved down, the pad of his finger brushed over your lower lip a few times. It sent shivers down your spine. Steve leaned down a little more, his thumb going back to rest on your cheek. His eyes kept flickering between your lips and your eyes. He was ready to stop at any sign of you being uncomfortable. He gently brushed his nose against yours and when you didn’t pull away, he finally kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your cheeks heat up. Steve didn’t leave you enough time to kiss him back, as he pulled away quickly. Your eyes opened, scared to see the regret on his face but instead all you could see was how nervous he was.

‘’Is this ok?’’

You nodded as an answer, not trusting your voice to function properly. He quickly closed the gap between the two of you, this time giving you a chance to kiss him back. Both your eyes were closed, his thumb started moving on your cheek again and your hand that was in his hair slowly slid down his neck, then his chest to finally move under his arm and rest on his back. The kiss was slow, as if Steve was afraid to hurt you, but you both could feel all the emotions and feelings that you hadn’t had the courage to confess being put into this kiss. He pulled back, just enough to give you a chance to breathe. Both the kiss and how loved you felt leaving you a little breathless.

He looked at you and waited until you opened your eyes. The look in his eyes made your breath hitched in your throat. He had so much love in his eyes that you thought your heart was going to melt in your chest. He rested his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

‘’You.’’ He echoed his thoughts from earlier. His voice was barely audible but he was so close that you could hear him perfectly. ‘’I just need you.’’

I am a big sucker for Nomad!Steve, look at that glorious beard!

I hope this wasn't too cringey. This was my FIRST TIME writing a kissing scene, so please be kind. I know it was probably really bad, I'm sorry!

Thank you to my dear @fangirllife98 for requesting this. I hope you liked it and that it fed your little Steve hunger for the day.

[Taglist: @n3ssm0nique | @lover-of-bucky | @beingagodsucks ]

If you want to be added to a taglist; Bucky taglist, Steve taglist, Missing Piece taglist, Blood Moon taglist or just the general taglist just let me know in the comments or DM me.

[lustbile]

The Journal

TenxReader

Word Count: 7.3k+

Summary/Warnings: Smut with plot, semi public, a lot of biting, mentions of supernatural and just general weirdness, and small amount of blood play

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist (can be read alone or within the series, but unlike others it might just be the slightest amount confusing)

“So that’s what you’re into now,” your best friend’s voice is bored and distant, her task of wiping down the bar that stretched out in front of her taking a majority of her attention away from the babbling you’ve tried to subject her to since you entered the empty restaurant only about 20 minutes before, “weird demon sex clubs?”

—

—

“Ah ah, I never said they were demons,” you correct quickly, the thought of defending yourself never crossing your mind as you petulantly slap your hands against the polished wood, “I just said it was…. weird.”

“Weird is an understatement,” she scoffs quietly as she turns to dip her dirtied rag back into the bleach water and ring it out, “I mean look, I’ve always been supportive in the witchy stuff you’ve been into but this…. is a bit much.”

“I don’t see how this is any different than any other thing I’ve read into.”

“Oh you don’t see?” you finally manage to pull her attention towards you as she harshly slaps the rag back onto the wood with a stern glare pulled on her pretty features, “you’re talking about vulnerability and abandoned warehouses and public sex. That last one is definitely new.”

You fully expected this type of response, only hoping she’d be busy enough that you would dodge the motherly scolding she liked to give you when you pitched your schemes to her with your eyes wild and wide, but nevertheless, she was completely right.

It came from an old book, tattered and torn from being flipped through one too many times, that you found at your favorite antique store. The store itself was already notorious with your tight inner circle of friends as the creepy shop that was corrupting your brain, a constant taunt being that the little old woman that ran it was the actual devil and she was just waiting for the right time to jump you and eat you whole, but this did nothing to stop you from visiting at least once a week.

But the book, it was different from any other you had found. It was completely handwritten, including amazingly done sketches in a deep unfading ink, and spoke of outlandish things.

Some were easily brushed off, like a murder that happened in the 50’s that was known to stay in the mouths of the older folks, both to them and the book it was widely believed to be the doing of some long tongued and wild eyed creature, until a local sweet old man admitted on his deathbed that it was instead his one crime of passion.

He had been a young soldier that snuck into his lover’s room one night, and upon learning that she was to marry a nice lawyer the day after he was meant to deploy, his mind went blank and his hands were carving out her heart. He luckily escaped any questioning after being shipped off, and once he returned home he captured the heart of a pretty young girl and lived out a long life sitting on top of a horrid truth.

So yeah, stories of those sorts, having been solved in your lifetime, meant very little to you, but the one you were going on about now, meant the world.

The writing looked like it had been put down by a panicked chicken rather than the woman who’s name was written neatly in the front. It lived in some of the pages towards the back of the small book and spoke of a dark club. Club X.

She went on and on about stumbling across the club purely by accident, and meeting another woman with glittering eyes. Graphic details of being taken in the middle of the dance floor with a million eyes looking but not fully seeing her as she fell apart against a dancing and eager tongue made your heart thump lodged in your throat. But the more and more she visited the club, the more incoherent her words became, but towards the end the writing had become stained and obscured by a deep brown stain, before it stopped altogether.

Thankfully, the details of where the building was was completely visible regardless of being the thoughts of a mad woman, and with a lot of thinking and staring at the town map, you’ve come to believe that you knew exactly where the mysterious club stood.

Only a street down from the restaurant you sit in now.

“Listen, I know it sounds ridiculous, and it probably is, but what’s the problem with just going to check right?” you scramble to pull the delicate book from the bag that sits in the stool beside you as your friend moves closer and closer to where you sit, laying it flat to show her the page you’ve had bookmarked since you read it, “and look at the name she puts, I think it’s the man who ran it and it’s a long shot, but maybe he’s still alive, or if not maybe some family is! Right here, Asm-“

“Don’t say it again,” she’s quick to interrupt, sliding her free hand to hover above the page you’ve glued your eyes to, “I don’t wanna hear any old man names, especially that one it gives me the ick.”

“It’s just a name,” murmur to yourself, but move to put the book away regardless, “but anyways, I have something that most people who were going to the club didn’t, knowledge of what exactly I’m walking into. I can just go and look around, worst things worst its still a freaky sex club and I just go home, but I’m willing to bet this lady was just off the shits and its just an empty building with some funky vintage beer bottles that you can add to your collection.”

You feel like you’ve won an award you weren’t even trying to compete for when she finally breaks out into a soft smile. The huff that leaves her chest is endeared, and you swear your heart began to vibrate when she reached to run a gentle thumb across the swell from your cheekbone.

“Fine, do what you want, but if the bottle isn’t completely intact when you find it I don’t want it.”

“So you’re not coming with me?” your head tilts to the side in confusion as with things of this nature in the past, she’s always followed along to ensure that you didn’t do anything to stupid. You never felt like the company was fully necessary, but it was appreciated regardless.

“Baby, as much as I’ve enjoyed your info dumping you’ve done tonight, the other person that was meant to clean with me had to leave early with a stomach bug so I’m busy pulling a clean up job that’s truly a job for about five people. But you seem to really believe in this little adventure of yours,” she leaves the rag in a damp mass next to the stack of dirty glasses beside you to take your hands in her’s, her slightly wrinkled fingers are still warm and the way they lace with yours makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you, “besides, you’re as smart as a whip and I know you have me on speed dial. I trust you.”

——

You no longer love the feeling of being trusted.

When your friend had given you the heartfelt speech only a little over half an hour ago, you felt like you had been put on a nice pedestal before she handed you a cookie with a pat on the head.

Now the “cookie” had turned to rot in your belly and you were faced with your own perfectly dreamed up reality.

It was already late by the time you had walked into the restaurant your friend works at, the sun already setting and the last few customers gathering their things and paying the bills, so once you got her stamp of approval and we’re heading out the door, the only light left was a bright and full moon, and flickering street lights.

You took your time walking in the direction that your book and personal sleuthing had pointed you in, the closer and closer you got to the one warehouse in town that seemed to never be bought back from the city, the knots in your belly pulled tighter and tighter.

But regardless of the almost painful twist in your gut, you surprisingly almost missed the building in its entirety.

It was as if your entire being blocked out the thumping bass that shook the sidewalk and the blinding red light that spilled from beneath the entrance and out the fractured windows. Your brain trying to force itself from entering the building you spent so many weeks trying to locate.

But the way your heart thuds in your chest when you stand in front of the entrance is something you couldn't even pretend you didn’t feel.

Your tongue digs into the side of your jaw, and you're confused at the feeling of warm tears burning at your waterlines. It’s exactly the way the owner of the journal described it in her manic writings, weirdly exact considering the other stories that surrounded it that dated it back far before you were even born.

You want to go in, the shaking steps your legs take is evident to that, but the tense muscles of your shoulders and stomach makes you hesitate and even grumble out into the air.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a shuffling to your side, your throat tensing when you look over, and are put slightly at ease when you see two men who you assume are acting as some type of security. You almost expect them to look up and ask you for some type of ID when you’re being very weird and blatant about your presence, but they seem too preoccupied with the dim screens of their phones and the way they lean forward at different times as if they’re waiting for someone.

Your hands are shaking slightly as they scramble down to grab for your bag, desperately looking for something to occupy you to walk by them without being even more weird, and when your fingers wrap around the flaking leather that binds the book, you grab it like a lifeline.

Your fingers flip through the pages with perfect muscle memory as you trip up the few steps that lead to the door, the tabs you carefully placed on the first page mentioning the club not even necessary with the way you could find the page even in your sleep.

You subconsciously hold your breath when you walk past the two men, almost as if the book is instead something wildly illegal and you're trying to sneak past your parents, and your washed with a temporary wave of relief when you pass through the doors without even a glance from the two.

Though the relief is stolen from your bones the second your feet touch the floor of the club.

It’s as if you’ve entered a place you’ve known your whole life, and from the amazing descriptions from the woman in the past, its not a completely surprising feeling.

But another part of you feels like this is the first time you’ve seen human beings in the flesh.

You can't help but to feel like you must look like an absolute nerd as you pull the book up to your face as you start to survey the club, but thankfully the book told at least one truth, and many of the club goers are too busy grouping and grinding against one another to even acknowledge your existence.

More truths come to light as you flick your eyes between the pages and the walls.

The bar is still tucked in the same far corner as she described, the flittering red and blue lights making it feel like a beacon of calm regardless of it being surrounded by drunken forms and its intimidatingly pretty bartender.

The dj is just a stoic and unimpressed looking as the one from so many years ago as he subconsciously bobs to the beat that he creates as he messes with the nobs and switches in front of him. He’s actually so similar, you wonder if you were right and the owner did have family floating around, and maybe the dj is one of them.

You stumble further into the room as you pick out small details she wrote about so lovingly. Your legs carry you to the back of the building as you smile at the sight of the wine stain the writer claimed to have created when her lover shocked her with a playful bite to the neck.

You almost feel like the universe is gifting you everything you could have possibly asked for when you see the loose board that she said a friend of hers would always trip over, and electricity zips up your spine in excitement when you spots the large painting that still hangs over the booth she claimed as her favorite, and she meticulously sketched out next to a paragraph about what she thought the artist was feeling.

All these things though, lead to the things that make your jaw hang slightly open.

The large balcony above you is larger than you ever imagined. The hundreds of bright red carnations she loved to sketch drip from the golden bars like water, and the black velvet curtains that hang over the room it leads to look heavy enough that they suffocate someone if they fell.

She seemed so intensely in love with the place you stand in, and the woman she met there, and those emotions were more than evident from the way the recreated the energy of the club with her words and art. Which only tips you towards the part that caught your attention perhaps the most.

It was exactly where it was meant to be. Just below the balcony that hangs high on the wall, gaping wide and dark like the mouth of a hungry monster coaxing you to enter its throat. The only issue that you can see being the hanging rope that blocks you from entering, but with only shining bright clasps holding it onto hooks on the walls, you don’t think you're above sneaking past it with little guilt.

The hall was the one thing that taunted you the most about the story the woman spun in the little worn book. The empty and dark vass space being something that coaxed her as well, but unfortunately for you, and maybe her as well, the parts of her journal that began the tale of her passing the temping rope, was the exact spot that was stained with bleeding ink and a suspicious brown color.

You survey the space around you, looking for anyone that could possibly be a worker or just a stickler for the rules, but seeing as everyone in your range of vision was attached by the mouth on someone’s neck or sloppy lips, you figured you were in the clear.

You drop the book gently back into your bag before you step slowly forward. Your heart feels like a wild animal trying to break out of the cavity of your chest, and it feels like your intestines have been successfully replaced with writhing worms that are desperately trying to reach your gut. You feel heat traveling up your chest and neck, and as you get within a few feet of what feels like the end of your life, your body begins to shake.

If you had the ability, you would have screamed, and if you had the strength, you would have fought back. But right when you're about to reach the threshold of the hall, and right when you feel like your legs are about to collapse from underneath you, strong fingers clasp over your trembling mouth, and an arm wraps tightly around your waist.

You’re turned faster than you can blink, the sudden motion making your brain swirl in your skull and making you go lightheaded and dizzy. And while keeping their hand clasped tightly over your mouth, the person that cages you in slams your back into the cold wall and knocks the air from your lungs.

The eyes that meet you are cat-like and dancing wildly, the grin the man you're faced with now smiles at you wickedly, and when your hands dart up until your nails dig harshly into the skin of his forearms, his smile only widens.

“Now,” he starts, the remains of a chuckle shaking his chest and his words slightly, “what exactly are you up to?”

You wait for a moment for him to release you from his hold, and when after a minute or so he still hasn’t budged, all you can offer in response is an annoyed arched brow.

“What?” he has the audacity to ask with taunting sincerity, “you thought you were smart enough to go wandering around, so you should be smart enough to figure out a way to talk around my hand right?”

It’s with immense irritation that you realize the two possibilities you’re faced with.

From the book you know about the weird concept of soul mates or whatever they were meant to be. The woman and the mysterious dancing girl she met so many years ago, and similar stories from the friends she met during her many visits to the club who had almost identical tales that she had to recount.

So with that information you know the possibility of this grinning man being your person is high, but your person or not, he was lighting a fire in your chest regardless.

You don’t think or even weigh the negatives before you send him a hard glare, and you show very little hesitation when you push forward to sink your teeth into the first finger you can catch.

His yelp is covered by the blaring music, but you hear it loud and clear before he reaches his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose to pull you off like a rabid kitten.

“You know what I’m up to,” you huff petulantly as you lean back into the wall with your arms folding over your chest, “or at least I’d assume you’d be smart enough to use your context clues right?”

His lip curls when he glances back up to you as he pets at his now bruising finger, but even with the thin veil of irritation on his pretty features, you can tell he enjoys the sarcastic tone you’ve adopted.

“Yeah you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he bites back as he steps closer, crowding your personal space and pushing his chest tightly against yours, “you’re lucky I’m who caught you and not boss man.”

“Boss man?” you ask, trying not to show you excitement over him spilling the treasured information about the club that you want so desperately.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, and the sly wink he throws at you shocks you more than you would like to admit, but when he tilts his head back quickly you don’t hesitate to follow his line of sight to the edge of the balcony.

If it weren’t for the thin wires of light that create hatching over his eyes and mouth, you probably would have missed the masked figure that leers at you from over the railing. His hands and shoulders are covered by the masses of flowers, and the hollow black where he hides his eyes stares down at you two with a look that you assume is annoyance and possible curiosity.

The moment you two look up, the figure jerks back. Your eyes flick quickly between him and the man in front of you, and from the bratty grin he wears as he looks up, you feel as if the masked man didn’t have any intention at being caught.

You get lost slightly in staring at the man pressed against you, his teeth that look sharper in the red lighting and his eyes twinkle in mischief, and even with the obnoxious start to your interaction, you’d be lying to say you don’t find him beautiful.

It takes you a second to regain your senses, tearing your eyes away from the fascinating side profile of the man, but when you glance back up to the balcony, the mask man has retreated back.

“He doesn’t like much when we take people back there before they’re ready,” he attempts at an explanation as he turns back to you, and seems unfazed when he misses the mark and just confuses you further, “he let the two goons outside have a little exception, but that's because they don’t know how to go easy y‘know.”

“No,” you shake your head at him with a quiet scoff, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know more than you think,” his voice drops as he speaks now, and as he speaks he reaches out his hand to hold himself propped against the wall next to your head while his other hand moves to run gently up the side of your neck, “I mean, you know who I am at least right?”

“I have an idea,” you admit with a huff, but you also admit to yourself that this probably means you won't be getting into the hall. You do mentally jot that down as a loss, but decide to take the man pressed against you as a win and you reach to grab at his shirt in retaliation, “but you could at least give me a name to work with.”

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to be one for such formalities,” his head tilts in amusement at his own words, and the action nudges the tip of his nose into yours and makes your heart flutter up into your throat, “but you might as well know the name of the man you’ll be destined to fall in love with.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to start to ache, and he quietly laughs and moves to press his nose into the soft flesh of your cheek as he feeds off your annoyance.

“Ten,” he answers quietly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he moves to whisper the syllable in your ear, and you never thought that with just one word he’d have a shiver rushing up your spine.

You respond quietly with your name, but the word comes out strained and rushed when he begins to nibble on the lobe of your ear and pushes his knee harshly between your thighs.

Both your hands now hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt, and when his lips move to trail against the side of your neck that isn't enveloped by his hand, you tug roughly at the fabric and your back arches slightly away from the wall.

His tongue is hot when he lays it flat on the center of your throat, and when he swipes it up until it flicks against the end of your chin, you can't help but cringe slightly at the feeling regardless of the way it makes heat pool in between your thighs.

The wicked grin on his face never falters, it only grows wider and more hungry when your eyes meet again, and with his staring so deep that you fear he may be collecting every ounce of your soul, you two have a silent agreement on the unnatural waves of electricity that connect you.

When his lips finally land on yours, it's the roughest and clumsiest kiss you’ve experienced. Both of you fight each other with hungry and eager tongues and the way your teeth gently knock together has your skull rattling in a way that, if you weren’t so hell bent of devouring each other whole, you’d probably have to take a breather.

Your hands reluctantly release the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, and in a desperate attempt to stay occupied, they shoot up the tangle tightly into his hair. You admit, you probably tug harsher on the strands than you probably should, but the groans he pours into your mouth, and the way his hips rock roughly into yours, has you tugging again and again.

He presses you further and further into the wall, and without thinking your hips begin to kick and tilt down until you're grinding harshly and sloppily against his tense thigh.

You let out a quiet whine that's muffled and garbled by his moving at the feeling of him pressing his thumb gently into the dip beneath your jaw, and pressing into your jugular. The sound is followed almost immediately by a small yelp when he latches his teeth to your bottom lip and gives you a stinging bite.

You’re frustrated almost immediately with the lack of friction you can feel from the layers of clothing between you, and now the slight shooting pain from the tensing skin between his teeth, you can feel the impatience in your belly crawling up and invading your chest and throat.

He’s quick to pull away when you retaliate with your own nipping bite to his top lip, your teeth still sinking down when he does and making his sting probably just as much as yours. And when he eyes you as his eyelids droop down into an accusatory squint, you assume he’s not used to getting a taste of his own medicine.

He mutters something to himself about your feistiness, and a sly comment about how he shouldn’t be surprised as he was expecting to get a handful, but he gives you no time to make a snide comment or even question about any of the words, before his fingers are closing firmly but loosely around your neck.

He keeps you rooted in the spot that you stand, the only change in your posture he allows is pulling you slightly away from the wall, just wide enough for him to slink behind you and tug you roughly back into his chest.

“You like poking around into business that isn’t yours?” he asks rhetorically as his free hand reaches around your shoulder to push past the neckline of your shirt, and right as he pressed down the center of your chest and his fingers brush the bottom of your rib cage, his fingers curl and he starts to drag his blunt nails up your sternum as he continues, “need to know and see every single little thing right? So… what’s the harm of being on the other side of it for once?”

“What are you on about?” you as sharply as you try to turn your face towards him the best you can, but his hand tilts under the bottom of your chin until your head is forced to lean on his shoulder and he’s nothing but thrilled at the way it makes you struggle.

“To be seen, or not?” he presses his lips back against the shell of your ear, and the way he whispers roughly makes you shiver again as your thighs press tightly together, “you know what I mean, and you know the answer I want, but its all up to you in the end.”

The electric and slightly humiliating buzz of being seen in a mass of bodies committing the same sins as you was something the woman in the book went on about frequently. She mentioned that there were a few times where she and her lover snuck off to get alone time of course, but the almost blinding pleasure that came from being worshiped by not only one person, but the eyes of an entire room, was addictive. And you wanted just a taste.

You grumble in response, the idea of admitting to the already confident man that you did indeed wanted the same amount of attention as he did made your chest burn even more than it already was, and you’d rather take your chance with his terrifying looking boss than to give him the satisfaction of your verbal confession.

He seems unaffected by your nonverbal confirmation, the way you press into him as his hand wraps around your waist again and creeps down to the button of your shorts, and your own hand grabbing onto the sleeve of his rolled up long sleeve shirt to guide him to undo the clasp or just dip below the waistband, is enough of an answer for him to know.

He chooses to pop the button, and once he has the zipper pulled down enough that he can work with, he begins to shove the worn denim down your hips along with your underwear until they are wrapped around your knees and he can push his fingers roughly between your thighs.

You try to clear the fog that he creates in your mind from his teasing fingers long enough to reach your free hand back to give the same treatment to the dark jeans that wrap tightly around his hips and thighs in a way that had you mentally drooling from the moment you got to get a full look at him, after he ambushed you of course.

You’re not sure how he undid your shorts so quickly without being able to see, but as you fumble and scratch your nails against the sensitive skin of his hip, you give yourself the benefit of the doubt seeing as your trying to work while his middle and ring fingers tease over your entrance and the heel of his hand presses clumsily into your neglected clit.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t give you any benefit of the doubt. He at least has the decency to press his lips across your cheekbone and temple to muffle his quiet laughs, but to make your task even more difficult, his fingers shallowly curl up into you just enough to make you twist and curl.

Once the button of his jeans finally releases, you instinctively let out a huff and sink your shoulders back into his chest as you reach past the fabric to wrap your hand around his stiff length and pull it from the confines until you can press it against his lower belly. And you get just one tally on your side of the boards you’ve created in your mind when his amused laughs devolves into pleased grunts and tilting hips.

“Please,” you start quietly, trying to rock more against the parts of his hand that press against you while running your palm up and down the length of him and smearing him with his own pre come, “I can tell you’re just as impatient as me.”

He swears in your ear, using his hold on you with both hands to shift your hips up and pull you closer before he clears his throat to speak, “well could you imagine, looks like we are a match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you retaliate, digging the heel of your own palm into the skin just below the tip of him to egg him on even further, “but either way, that's the point isn't it?”

“I should have expected you to be just a little bit of a smart ass,” he mutters a half hearted complaint, but he only contradicts his own words when he pushes your hips away enough for you to guide him between your thighs and to glide against the arousal that spilled from your body and his hands spread messy along any available inch of skin.

He thrusts smoothly against your back a few times, bringing his arm down to guide him towards your entrance painfully slow, but when you let out a gravely moan of his name, he cant deny himself for any longer, and he’s sinking into you until your eyes start to gently flutter.

Once he’s seated inside you, his hand tenses slightly tighter around your neck, and when you both start pushing towards each other to meet in the middle of your thrusts, his other hand takes the opportunity to map any inch of you he can reach.

He gropes almost painfully at your chest, traveling over your stomach and up your shirt to dig his fingers into your skin until you swear he’s tattooed his finger prints onto you, all while nipping and lapping at the skin of your jaw and neck.

No one immediately in front of you is watching, they’re all in their own worlds of flesh and saliva, but you can still feel eyes of someone on you. His first and foremost as they burn holes into the side of your skull and glance to watch where you push back against him desperately, but there’s another feeling you get of being seen and studied thats so intense that you’re a little shocked when you chance a glance up and see that whoever the masked person was from earlier wasn’t there at all.

So no, you have no idea who, or what is watching you right now, but you can feel the unusual heat it stirs in you as your body flutters around him as he fucks you sloppily. You feel a deeper relation to the woman that owned the book that still rests in the bag that feel unceremoniously from your shoulder when he first put his hands on you, and you hope that maybe you’ll eventually slip into the life of bliss that she meticulously wrote about and possibly learn what happened that demolished the stories that lived in the back of the journal.

You could feel the pleasure crawling up your spine like a monster out creature, your panting breaths tipping the man that works you over off to this even though you’re sure he was already aware before you were, and you think your legs are back to the edge of collapsing when his creeping fingers dance along the expanse of your stomach to find their place back between your thighs.

Your back stiffens at the first touch of his rolling finger on your clit, and your head tilts even farther back onto his shoulder than he already had it. He doesn’t seem interested in coaxing you to your finish slowly, at a pace that would have mercy on your melting mind and shaking form, but he instead abuses your clit until your whimpering out and stumbling and stepping slightly on his toes.

You feel like you’re waiting out the suspense of a horror film that’s score is too obvious to the incoming jump scare. You tilt your neck in a way that seems normal to him, but in reality your trying to feel the many rings that decorate his fingers with the delicate skin of your throat to test if any of them could possibly be sharp enough to cut you and draw blood. You know what blood means to him, and you know it's something he’ll have to do soon if he truly can feel how close you are to the edge.

You feel like you’re floundering a bit, confused from the possible deviation from the story you’ve committed to memory. Was there any chance in this world that this wasn’t your person?

You push this thought away as soon as your panicked mind can construct it though, because there’s no way the spell that it feels has been placed on you would be there if that was the truth, and your body is heated almost like a furnace, but you suddenly love the idea of being burned by him.

You pull in a gasping breath of air that pierces through the music and grunting that rattles in your ears, the taste of your orgasms dancing on the back of your tongue and your back arching so harshly you fear that one of your muscles might seize up and cramp. And right when you feel his hips start to stutter in tandem with yours, and when you’re only seconds from blabbering out mixed syllables that you could only hope would come out as a coherent question, you feel it.

His teeth latch onto you again, his canines not sharp enough to make a clean cut as they dig into the muscle of your shoulder, but his determination is strong enough.

It burns painfully, and makes hot tears well up in your eyes, but almost embarrassingly, is the exact thing that pushes you scrambling over the edge.

You feel like it hurts to breathe, your lungs so focused on letting out puffs of air and broken moans that they can't seem to remember how to bring oxygen in, and your eyes roll for a completely new reason for the man and much more painfully.

It’s when you feel him start to suck the rushing blood from your newly christened wound that you also feel the rumble of his groans against your skin and feel him start to come inside of you. His fist tightens again around your neck as he pushes aftershocks through your nerves with his own orgasm, and with flying hands you grab at both of his wrists, not to ask in any way for him to ease up, but from a sudden wash and need to hold onto him possibly until you die.

He lets you collapse to the floor once he pulls out, but he follows your sinking form and sits alongside you and partially underneath you as you both try to catch your breath.

The club scene in front of you is now blurs of flashing lights and abstract writhing forms, and if it wasn’t for the zaps of energy you feel from every brush of his finger tips, your brain would probably be too muddled to register him fixing both your clothes and his.

You become just slightly more aware when he shifts your body against him enough to grab at the strap of your bag with the heel of his shoe, and you try to sit up faster than necessary and give yourself a small head rush when he pulls it to himself and flips it open.

“You seemed a little weirdly unaffected by the whole,” he flails his hands in front of you for a second as he speaks, and your lagging mind takes a second to catch up with his attempts at implication, “not the fucking part clearly,” he teases, “but the leading up to it. The meeting part and all.”

“I know what this place is,” you admit, and if your legs had gained just a bit more strength you probably would have stood and requested a glass of water just from how gravely your voice had become, “I knew I was probably going to run into you.”

“But you weren’t looking for me,” he tries, and fails, at hiding the slight edge of offense his voice shows, “if you knew I was here why didn’t you look for me?”

“I didn’t worry about it,” you say, warming up a bit again in the fear that it may have come off slightly rude, “or, like, I mean I knew you’d be able to find me easier than I could find you. I was more interested in finding answers.”

“Answers to what? You said you knew this place, or at least what it is?”

“Well I only know the basics,” you shift in his hold, knocking his hands away as they sift through your bag, and grabbing blindly until you can pull out the book, “I found this journal and it-“

“A journal?” he asks in a volume that could have been obnoxiously loud if it weren’t for the thumping bass that shook the floor beneath you, and pulls the small book from your hands.

“It was written by a woman who came here a long time ago,” you explain, deciding to not take offense to his rough and grabbing hands, “I found it and tracked the club down, I needed to see if it was real.”

“Oh it's real alright,” he laughs as he starts to flip through the pages, stopping for a moment to smile at a simple sketch she had done of a cat that she said lived in the back alley, “hey wait I think I know this name, and these people.”

“What are you on about?” you ask with a scoff as you tug the book from his grubby fingers, “you can’t possibly know these people, this was written in like the fifties. Stop pulling my leg.”

“Oh I see,” he smacks your thigh playfully as he leans over your shoulder to glance at the first page that mentioned anything about the date, the ink clear enough to read 1953 in the swirling handwriting, “you think you know everything.”

“I do know everything, fuck you,” you glare playfully at him over your shoulder, “or I would know, if you’d let me go into that weirdo hall.”

“No hall, for now at least,” he sighs, the gears in his head turning as he thinks of the next thing to say, “but you know, time doesn’t exist the same way here, the woman who wrote this probably didn’t know that at the time, so I’m not surprised you don’t either.”

“What do you mean time doesn’t exist?” you look at him as if he’s grown a second head, but do you really have the nerve to question him like that? Considering that entire concept of the club you are very aware of its existence now, a time situation shouldn’t be the most shocking should it?

“Well, it's hard to explai-“

“Then don’t explain it,” you almost jump fully out of his lap at the deep voice that rattles above you, and both him and you look up at the figure that looms over you now.

The man is tall, his black hoodie looking weird in contrast to the clothes of the other club goers, and with a squinting observation and a familiar and annoyed sigh from the man seated behind you, you realize you’re being stared down by the mysterious entity that is the DJ, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket in annoyance.

“Huh?” Ten lets out more in the form of a noise than a word, as his arms wind tightly around your form.

“I said don’t explain shit,” the man begins to tap his foot in irritation as he speaks, and you wonder if he’s aware that he’s in rhythm with the song that surrounds you, “you need to chill out with the loose tongue, its bad enough we have the big mouths outside.”

“I wasn’t gonna go that far,” Ten sounds reminiscent of a scolded toddler, and considering the man is hindering you from getting information that you wanted so badly, you can feel yourself mirroring the pout he wears, “I know what I’m doing alright man? Why are you over here anyways, shouldn’t you be at your little booth minding your business.”

“No one minds their business over at that booth, and you should know that better than anyone pervert,” the words are sharp, but the curl to his lips and the underlying playfulness to his tone tells you the likeliness of them being friends is high, “anyways, I know we don’t follow any regulations or anything here, but I’m still gonna take a fuckin’ break or two.”

“Well breaks over,” Ten reaches out a hand to playfully swat the man away, “I didn’t wait this long for you to just interrupt my bonding time with my person alright?”

“Alright, alright,” he finally starts to shuffle away, throwing one last comment about Ten being bitter his person showed up first over his shoulder with a grin.

“What a loser,” Ten starts, looking at you playfully and rolling his eyes, “too bad he’s like my best friend or whatever.”

“You seem to have a lot of fun around here don’t you?” you take a shot at voicing your observations, your heart fluttering in a completely new way at the warm smile he shoots you.

“Just wait a see, my love. Just wait and see.”

[mrs-gucci]

Anything Goes {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

anonymous (half of their request):

I think the world needs a Maurizio x Studio 54 fic 👀

author’s notes: hello, hello! YES, I think we need this...and now we have it! thanks for sending it in <3 I really enjoyed researching a bit and whipping up this piece! a special thanks to @babbushka​ for being the resident Studio 54 expert!  Mauri isn’t as ‘soft’ here as he is when I write him usually, but I honestly loved exploring this sort of ‘wild side’.

warnings: smut. porn with some plot. masquerade. I think Studio 54 is a warning of its own. dancing. grinding. p in v. unprotected sex. fluff at the end.

(possible) tw’s: some alcohol consumption. cigarette smoking (canon for character). (!!) implied infidelity/extramarital sex. public sex. (!!)

word count: 2.46k

terms to know

Bellissima means ‘beautiful’ in Italian (an affectionate nickname). Dio means ‘God’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece). Cristo means ‘Christ’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece). Cazzo means ‘fuck’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece).

maurizio’s taglist peeps! @icarusinthesea @eagerforhoney my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)​

Muffled tunes bump from the concrete walls as you and your small group of friends walk past the blocks-long line. You flash your Gucci company ID to the bouncer, who lets you in immediately, getting a few envious mutters and groans from the line-goers.

Studio 54 is the place to be these days and luckily for you, working at the House of Gucci’s New York branch gets you premiere access, since the CEO is a huge investor in the club. 

Tonight’s a masquerade theme, so all patrons are wearing a variety of different masks, from whole-face masks to only eye masks. But, each was very much their own, a sea of colors and sequins and feathers as their wearers stride about.

You’re clad in a risqué disco getup, wearing a metallic silver tube top and matching skirt with some small heels that you’re sure you’ll tire of rather quickly. But Studio 54, from what you’ve heard, is all about the looks, the glitz and the glamour. Your eye mask is made to match tonight’s look as well as resemble cat-eye glasses, black with small silver wings coming off the pointed edges. 

Your winter coat is checked and then you head up to the dance floor, music getting louder and louder as you ascend the staircase. Your breasts bounce a bit with each step, nipples peering out from beneath the silver fabric. Studio 54 is known for its ‘anything goes’ rule, and you fully intend on taking advantage of that freedom tonight. 

It’s jam-packed, just as you’d expected it to be, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding together in a large group on the floor. The stale air is hazy with cigarette smoke, smells of sex and drugs linger all throughout the thick, humid air. Your senses are overwhelmed while at the same time aroused by the sights and smells of Studio 54.

While your friends head over to the bar to grab drinks, you head right onto the dance floor, beginning your night of wild, passionate fun. A few guys come and grind with you for a few minutes or so, but they leave shortly after. Your eyes peer through the holes in your mask, lingering over the talent standing at the sides of the floor, scouting and waiting to devour their scantily-clad prey.

Your gaze pauses on a man leaning against one of the pillars, lighting up a cigarette. He looks in stark contrast to all other club-goers who sport the metallic, the feathers, the sequins, the avant-garde. He’s so abnormally normal with his crisp, classy 007-type tuxedo. His chestnut brown hair drapes down to just below the brilliant white collar of his button-up, neatly moussed and styled. He’s disguised by a bright white half-face mask, making him appear almost ghoulish when paired with his handsomely pale skin.

His eyes suddenly dart over to meet yours and your cheeks heat up as you look away, biting your lip softly. He smirks, taking a drag off his cigarette before heading over to the bar. He’s going to need some courage juice in him before he approaches you.

The night wears on and you start to get a bit discouraged. You’re still having fun, of course, you just wish that it was going more according to your fantasy and imagination. Perhaps you should head to another club, see if you fare better there. 

Deciding in favor of checking out other hotspots in the area, you begin to make your way off to the side back towards the door. Suddenly, a set of large, strong hands slide onto your waist and pulls you back, forcing you to collide with a large body. The scent of expensive cigarettes enveloping you as he steps up behind you and goosebumps instantaneously erupt down your arms as the tall man leans down, lips now at your ear.

“Ciao, bellissima.” His voice is slightly husky and thick with Italian origin, alcoholic breath hot on your skin.  “The party’s out here on the floor, not down at coat check.”

You chuckle. “It seems that no one wants to party with me for more than five minutes tonight. I was gonna try my luck at another club.”

He pulls you back a bit further against him.

“Well then, it’s lucky I caught you. I’d be just kicking myself if I missed the chance to dance with a beauty like you.”

“I think you overestimate my talents, sir.” You’re wondering if this is a dream, something to cope with the real-life disappointment of the night.

The man chuckles, running his nose along the side of your neck and inhaling your sweet perfume. “And I think you underestimate your talents, miss.”

A slower, more sensual song begins to play through the speakers and you reach up to wrap your hand around the back of your unknown dance partner’s neck, keeping him down near your head.

“Let’s find out who’s right, then, shall we?”

His grin is obvious, even though you can’t see him. “Yes, let’s.”

You start by leaning back against him, simply feeling out the slow and steady rhythm of the beat. You’ve never felt so relaxed, so carefree before and it feels really, really nice. He drops his hands from your hips, but sways along with you, trying to keep his lips away from your up-done hair. 

He ends up having a few of your hairs catch on his plush lips a few minutes later, causing him to have to try spitting them out subtly and quietly. 

It doesn’t work. 

You laugh softly and he blushes, chuckling awkwardly along with you. “Sorry about that. You must’ve caught some of my flyaways.”

“Yes, it seems that way. I feel guilty for ruining the mood, though.” His nose nudges at your temple, hands coming back up to hold your hips as he senses your motions grow a bit quicker.

“Don’t. I’m sure we can manage to bring it back to what we had before. In fact, I think we can make it even better.”

Your hips begin to circle back against him at a more aggressive rate of speed, moving the fabric of his dress slacks all over his hardening crotch. His breath is shaky as it comes out through his nose, fingers digging a bit tighter into the flesh of your hips.

The humid air practically suffocates the two of you as the other patrons dance all around, causing a slick sheen to quickly cover your skin, the roots of your hair soaking through steadily. Your fingers gently massage his scalp as his lips move and suck red marks into your tender skin that’ll surely turn purple by the end of the night.

Soon, he begins experimentally rolling his pelvis in time with your motions, grunting against your neck at the sensations this new move is creating. He’s almost fully hard beneath his suit slacks by now, already planning out how he’s gonna get with you tonight. Patrizia doesn’t have to know about this.

“So, are you ever gonna let me see you, mystery man?” You ask, chuckling.

He blushes beneath the mask. He’s extremely hesitant to let you see him, an instinct born of being in the spotlight since youth. But then he remembers, he’s in America and he has a mask on. 

His hands pull away from you and a small kiss placed on your exposed shoulder. “Look upon me, then, bellissima.”

Suddenly gripped with nerves, you turn around slowly and look up. He’s handsome; the epitome of men, warm brown hair and endearing ocean blue eyes. His gazes roam your masked appearance in a similar manner, relieved that you don’t seem to recognize him. A sudden feeling of familiarity washes over you as your eyes meet once more.

“Your eyes, your gaze...they’re familiar to me. Is there a chance we’ve crossed paths before?”

His nostrils flare in fear, eyes going wide for a moment. A soft, cautious breath leaves his lips and he shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s not likely. I’ve been told I have one of those faces, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. That’s probably it.” You step back up to him, hands smoothing over his broad chest. “Now, where were we?”

“Hmm, I think it was...” Maurizio smirks, leaning down so that his lips hover just above yours. “Right about here, if I recall correctly.”

Pressing yourself up on your toes, you connect your lips to his just as the last of his sentence passes through his velvety pink lips. Your arms snake up around the back of his neck, fingers toying with the rich brown locks. They certainly won’t be so neatly styled when you’re finished with him tonight, that much you’re sure of.

He smiles against your lips, stepping up a bit closer to you, body now pressing right up against yours. The two of you remain that way until he pulls away softly, breathing slightly heavy as his eyes look over your face.

“Can I take you upstairs? To the uh, balcony, perhaps?”

Oh, you’ve heard plenty of things about the balcony and the heat has already begun to pool in your loins. You nod, a small but devious grin stretching across your face.

“Absolutely. Lead the way, handsome.”

The two of you make your way towards the staircase, dodging and weaving through the crowds of dancing drag queens, salacious skaters, carefree celebrities and various other perky patrons.

“Do I get to learn your name before we reach the balcony?”

His breath hitches. “Mauri, you can call me Mauri.”

Your brows furrow slightly. You’ve never heard a name like that before, but maybe it’s some kind of nickname. 

“Mauri, got it. I’m Y/N.”

Y/N. A beautiful name, fit for a beautiful woman.

He smiles and nods, guiding you up to the balcony. When you arrive, there are already plenty of people inhabiting the space, all in various stages of either sex, undress or getting high. 

This is definitely where a majority of the sex smell downstairs is originating from. 

Mauri keeps his head tilted downwards and you swear you can see a bit of a blush on his cheeks as he takes you over to a relatively secluded corner. He undoes his belt quickly, sloppily kissing you as he does so.

You gasp sharply into his mouth when he suddenly scoops you up and slams you against the wall, lips working your neck while his hands free his hardened arousal from where it’s trapped beneath the restrictive suit fabric.

Your skirt is promptly pushed up to rest on your hips, your panties are pushed to the side, and Mauri’s cock is sheathing itself inside you before you can even process it.

“Ohhh christ.”

His jaw slacks against your neck, eyes squeezing shut while his hot breath spreads over your taut skin. Goosebumps erupt where the invisible warmth falls. “Dio.”

He stays still for a moment, then buries his face into the crook of your neck before his hips begin to move. There’s nothing slow or intimate about what the two of you are doing, it’s carnal. It’s sloppy and rough, the sweat mingling especially where your skin is pressed against his. 

The smell of sex that permeates around you only makes the whole experience that much more arousing. Your eyes looking around the room to see other couples getting off, shuddering and whining as you make eye contact with a young woman currently getting fucked on the ground. Your insides clench around him instinctively, earning you a small grunt while your hand takes hold of his silky brown locks.

“You’re tight, cristo, so hot and slick for my cock.”

Your head falls back against the wall with an audible clunk sound and you cringe in acute pain for a quick moment, but the pure lust and hunger flowing through you provides the adrenaline needed to ward off the pain. It’ll surely be sore come dawn, but really, you couldn’t care less at the moment.

“So big, Mauri, fucking me so good.”

Mauri fucks you harder, then, crooked teeth scraping against the taut flesh of your neck, panting softly. You reach down into the humid space between your bodies until your fingertips find the engorged bud nestled neath folds of delicate flesh.

A wet sound soon emerges from between your legs as your fingers swipe back and forth over your clit quickly, bringing yourself right up to the edge within only a minute or two. 

He grunts into your neck, pace rapidly devolving into one that’s erratic and desperate, shaft pulsing under the tight grip of your insides. His breathing grows quick and shallow, hands pushing at your spread legs to push them further into a spread eagle position. 

“Where do you want it?”

You moan along with his motions, pitch heightening slightly with each of his powerful thrusts. “Fuck, I--”

Suddenly, you’re thrown over the edge, a powerful orgasm hitting you like a truck. An avalanche of pleasure rolls over your body, nerves buzzing with warm feelings of release. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, lips near his ear to catch the chorus of whimpers, whines and little mewls that leave your lips.

“M-Mauri.”

His brows crease, knitting in the center of his forehead as he fucks you through it, finding it a nearly impossible feat to stave off his own climax, but he manages.

“Cazzo, I--wheredoyouwantit?” He’s barely holding on, now.

“Outside, a-anywhere.”

Balls pulling up, Mauri moans and pulls out quickly, just as the first thick rope of creamy release spatters onto your fleshy inner thighs. A long, shaky groan leaves his lips before he crashes them onto yours to muffle the rest of his sounds.

You move with him, lips liquid with his, fluid motions so effortless that you’d think the union was one entity. He pulls away from your lips slowly, then out of your tingling cunt, a smile on his face the whole way along.

“I apologize for the mess, bellissima.” He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the creamy liquid from your thighs before helping pull your skirt back down. “There we go.”

You offer him a small smile, biting your lip as the unsureness of what to do next takes over. After a moment, you clear your throat, chuckling softly.

“I’m not really sure what to do next, if I’m completely honest.”

“Me neither.” His cheeks, of what you can see of them behind the mask, turn a shade of pink. “How about I buy you a drink at the bar? That seems like a good place to start.”

Your lips instantly curve upwards into a smile and you offer him a soft nod.

“A drink would be great.”

[snusbandxknifewife]

stickyfickystickyfickystickyfickystickyfickysti

What is this? Lex writing something after a literal fucking year? It’s more likely than you think.

Sticky ficky 10 (yea boiiiiiis)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed, time moving a little less slowly now that Jude and Heather were spending time with one another. She discussed her difficulties adjusting to the mortal world, Heather aired her confusion about Faerie, and they both staunchly ignored discussing their respective ex-partners. It was a happy, almost easygoing friendship; something Jude never thought she’d get to experience.

It was because of this that Jude had started to come out of her little hobbit hole of a depression cave and it was because of this that she started to frequent the local kite shop that Heather loved so much.

It was because of this that Vivi knew where to call when an emergency came up.

“Is he alright?” Jude asked, all but yelling into the kite store phone and her mind going frantic as Vivi told her that Oak needed to be picked up from school.

“From what the principal said, he doesn’t feel well, but I haven’t gotten much in the way of information,” her older sister sighed. “I’m out of town today so I can’t go get him. You’re on the pickup list. Everything should be ok.”

Jude nodded. She had a vague recollection of how to get to Oak’s school, having been there already for one play that his grade put on. She knew how to get there and—as long as the bus wasn’t late—it shouldn’t take her very long.

“Yeah I can get him. I’ll head that way now.”

She didn’t waste time waiting for her sisters response; she simply hung up the phone as wished Josh—the store’s middle-aged father figure of a cashier—a good afternoon on her way out.

The trip to the school was quiet and uneventful, exactly how she liked things and also exactly how she didn’t. It’s nice not to have to deal with attackers jumping out of dark corners to ambush you at every turn, but a lifetime of being raised to search for them leaves her antsy when they don’t appear. By the time she made it to the school, her hackles were up and her teeth were gnashing.

“I’m here for Oak Duarte,” she told the unassuming secretary, shoving her hands into her coat pocket and searching the office for her brother. “I’m his sister, Jude.”

“Can I have some form of ID?” The woman’s fake-chipper voice put Jude even more on edge, especially considering she had no form of ID. Missing important documents like your birth certificate and social security card tended to get in the way of shit like that.

But, thankfully, before she had the time to say anything, a door swung open and Oak came bounding out.

“Jude!”

“Hey, Oakling,” she accepted his hug with a gentle pat of his shoulders before nodding to the secretary. “This fine woman wants to see my ID.”

Understanding the assignment immediately, Oak turned and glamoured one of the secretary’s business cards into a fake license and Jude was in.

They were out the door and halfway to the bus stop, Oak excitedly pulling her the whole time, before Jude remembered exactly why she was there.

“I thought you were supposed to be feeling poorly,” she observed, one eyebrow cocked as her brother skidded to a halt, looking like a cat caught mid-air as he aimed for the family parrot. “What happened to that?”

He looked around him for a way out, only to half-heartedly cough into his arm.

Jude couldn’t help but snort. “Look, I know faeries can’t lie, but you’ll need to get better at faking it before you go back to Elfhame. That was pitiful.”

“What can I say? I feel much better now that I’m not in school.”

“Nice try, acorn,” Jude caught him as he turned to make for the bus stop once more, pulling him back to face her. “What’s in school that’s making you feel worse than out here?”

“Well math is rather boring,” Oak tried.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t play games, Oak. I want the truth and I want it now.”

He sighed, clearly giving in, before motioning that he’d like to sit on the bench at the bus stop.

Jude watched her little brother as they walked, saw how he hunched into himself and frowned as he worried over whatever was bothering him, and it hurt her heart. Clearly, he was struggling with something, and it angered her that he’d likely been dealing with it while she was off in her own head, too preoccupied with herself to help her baby brother when he needed it.

They sat down and she turned her full attention to him as he played with his hands.

“The kids at school are mean to me,” he finally admitted.

“What happened?” Jude instantly zeroed in. “Did they try to drown you in the pond by the playground?”

“No.”

“Did they poison you?”

“What? No!”

She searched her memory for another possible option. “Did they make you strip naked while your teacher did nothing?”

“You know your experiences aren’t universal, Jude,” he crossed his arms. “Mortal school has, like, conflicts of identity, not literal murder attempts.”

“Fair,” she nodded, remembering why they sent him to the mortal world in the first place. “Please, continue.”

His righteous indignation was almost immediately replaced by that quiet concern of moments before as he looked to the ground. “They say I’m weird.”

“Weird? How?” Jude gently probed, doing everything in her power to avoid mentioning that, technically, her fae brother was strange by human standards.

“When we’re playing at recess,” he continued, “they always separate into boys and girls. I don’t know how to play the sports the boys enjoy and when I went with the girls I got teased.”

She frowned, reaching back into her memory for her time in mortal school, back when the biggest threat to her life was a missing cooties shot.

“I remember having boy and girl friends when I was in school. Surely they aren’t all strict about this self-imposed gender segregation.”

He huffed angrily, throwing down his arms like she just wasn’t understanding. “That’s the problem! After a few days, when I finally got the girls to trust me, it all got worse! I can’t play like them.”

For just a moment, her heart soared at the idea that this was the struggle her brother was facing. Schoolyard teasing was nothing compared to violent bloodshed and upheaval.

But then she saw his face, saw how his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she cursed herself for even feeling a moment of relief. He’d been right, her experiences weren’t universal, and she was wrong to judge his pains by her tolerance.

“Oh, acorn,” she pulled him into her side. “What do you mean?”

“They spend all of recess galavanting about, spinning tales about how I’m a princess in a castle of ice or I’m a sorcerer who can speak to animals,” his voice was muffled by her light jacket, but she could still hear the thickness in the back of his throat. “And I’m not allowed to tell them of Elfhame, so I can’t join in! I can’t dance the day away on falsehoods like they can, so they don’t want me around.”

Something deep and personal in her chest broke as she held her brother. Looking down at him, at his golden curls and his little horns and those sharpened ears that she’d currently despise seeing on almost anyone else; she was hit by the realization that he was much a stranger in a strange land, just as she’d once been.

He looked up at her, likely drawn by her silence, and scrunched up his face as he wiped his eyes. “I’m not sure what there is to smile about at this moment, my life is in shambles!”

“I’m merely proud, Oakling,” she said, attempting to pacify him. “Proud that you did not simply glamour the problem away the second it popped up.”

“I don’t see how glamouring myself a friend would help here. What good is a friend that you essentially have to create by yourself?”

That caused her to pause as the bus arrived.

“Acorn,” she asked as they got on, glad they were the only passengers. “Did you not have an imaginary friend when you were younger?”

He spun on her, looking something between puzzled and offended. “Whatever do you mean?”

“An imaginary friend,” she continued. “Someone that you talked to and played with when you were alone. Did you not ever make up an imaginary friend?”

“Who would do that?” He scrunched his nose up, looking, for just a moment, every bit the spoiled royal that his blood unfortunately made him.

“I did, Taryn did.” Jude tilted her head and studied him closely. “We’d tell lavish tales of their backgrounds when we played, making up everything along the way.”

“I can’t do that!” He sounded more frustrated than I’d ever heard him. “That’s the problem! I can’t tell the story of something that isn’t real.”

He spun, arms crossed once more as he glared out the window.

“They were real to me.”

She said it softly, more soft than possibly anything she’d ever said to him before, and she thought that he hadn’t heard her.

Until his head turned just a sliver, and she knew he was listening.

“I once asked Vivi why faeries could tell stories, even when they weren’t reading them off a page, and she told me that there were lessons in stories, and those lessons were enough of a truth for a faerie to be able to speak it,” Jude kept talking, looking ahead to give her brother the room to study her if he wished. “I suppose I liked the idea of that, because it made the fae and humans seem just a little more similar.”

She let the silence hang, waiting for him to take the bait.

“How?”

Hiding a smile, she went on. “Humans find truths in stories too, that’s why your classmates are so passionate about pretend. The sorcerer who can speak to animals? That likely comes from a love for her pet that’s so strong would give anything to be able to understand what it said. The princesses? Little girls who are learning to harness a power that within that they aren’t sure they understand yet. She wants to speak out and to lead and to be heard, so she is a princess because a princess does all of those things.”

She turned back to him, watching him from the corner of her eye as he pondered her words.

Then, as the bud stopped, she stood.

“Where are we going?” Oak rushed to grab his school bag and follow her.

“To the toy store, we’re making imaginary friends.”

She gave no other information as she led her brother into the tiny toy shop by the grocery store, even though he did his best to quiz her into submission. No, it wasn’t until they stood in front of a wall of stuffed animals that she spoke again.

“Choose something, a base, and I shall teach you how to play pretend.”

He frowned at her, then at the wall, and then back at her. “This is absurd.”

“I said the same thing about learning the language of birds when I came to Elfhame,” she laughed. “If you wish to survive in a strange place, you must be willing to unlearn your concept of absurdity.”

And she moved deeper into the toy store, studying dolls that she remembered from her childhood and electronic knickknacks that she’d never be able to work properly.

Oak followed behind aimlessly.

She was starting to think that she’d have to choose for him, to give him that extra little push he needed, when her eyes landed on something that made her gasp.

“Oh my god, I remember these stupid things!” Jude couldn’t help but laugh as she moved forward with the kind of speed that only a former spy could manage.

When she spun the package around, Oak made a face.

“Worm on a string?” He sounded more confused than before. “What is that supposed to do?”

“It’s this dumb little toy that you were supposed to be able to make look like it moved on its own,” she looked back to it. “I could never make them work. Vivi could, but I think it was glamour.”

Oak stepped forward, grabbing a package containing an orange worm. “So it’s just a fake worm and,” he squinted his eyes, “fishing line?”

“And googly eyes!” Jude nodded enthusiastically, gesturing to her blue worm like Vana White. “The height of early-twenty-first-century entertainment.”

“This is so stupid.” He shook his head.

But didn’t put the worm back.

“It’s so stupid,” Jude probed, “and you want it anyway.”

He scowled at her. “If you insist on this foolish imaginary friend agenda, I suppose a worm is a non-offensive start.”

Jude grabbed the orange worm and headed to the counter, letting Oak cross his arms and continue to act like this was all beneath him.

Once they made it home, she tore open the two packages and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, already fussing with the tiny cardboard card that you were supposed to hide in your waistband and failing to make the worm move in what she considered to be a natural method.

Her brother watched from the edge of the living room, still clinging to the idea that this was dumb.

“Come on, acorn,” she shook the little orange worm at him. “Your friend is waiting for a name.”

“A worm doesn’t need a name.” But still he relented, walking over and sitting by her.

“Nonsense!” Jude exclaimed, brandishing her blue worm at him. “See? I’ll prove it. This is Fweej, they’re an alien from a different planet, set on conquering the world and bathing in the blood of their enemies.”

“But it’s literally not.”

“Oh, Oakling,” she sighed at him. “I’m going to need you to work with me here. The worm is your imaginary friend, you get to decide everything about it.”

He rolled his eyes, but looked to the orange worm all the same. “Fine. Can I just name it Orange?”

“Oak, that would be like if Oriana had named you Blond,” Jude fixed him with a tired glare. “Don’t you think your friend deserves a fancier name?”

“But oranges are called oranges and nobody’s ever had a problem with it!”

“I thought oranges were actually green and they changed it to make them look more appealing?” She looked back to Fweej, pulling him across the tabletop.

“Wait, what?”

“Not important,” she waved him off. “Name the worm, acorn.”

He frowned at her again before glaring at the worm once more.

“Clementine.” He finally announced.

Jude smiled at the little win, pulling Fweej over to her brother.

“Why hello, Clementine,” she said grandly, moving Fweej for emphasis. “I am Fweej, and I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you like to be friends?”

Silence descended, and she fought the urge to look over and nudge her brother.

Then, finally…

“Hello, Fweej,” Oak started, his voice quiet and unsure. “I would love a friend.”

~~~~~~~

The rise of FweejTM

Lmao sorry I literally went MIA for like 10 months college has me seconds away from grippy socks jail 🤪

Also before anyone is like “but the nerf war was oak playing pretend!” No my friends that was Real and our favorite ten year old was literally ready to commit both murder AND treason

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @illyrianwitchling @courtofjurdan @clockworkgraystairs @st00pid231 @booksandlewks @fateandluminary @addies-invisible-life @nahthanks @dirigibleddinosaur

If anyone else wants to be tagged in the dumb, let me know. Also @jurdanhell the platonic love of my life is helping me with a list of links to each of my fics so y’all don’t have to keep scrolling.

[smol-and-grumpy]

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09​ <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided. 

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.” 

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake. 

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more. 

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine. 

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time. 

“Oh god, Mick.” 

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.” 

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.” 

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find. 

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm. 

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed. 

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind. 

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met. 

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered. 

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag. 

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs. 

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her. 

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick. 

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall. 

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend. 

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.” 

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed. 

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone. 

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway. 

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

 The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next. 

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain. 

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again. 

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

  Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been. 

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget. 

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears. 

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?” 

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood. 

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?” 

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic. 

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.” 

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.” 

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on. 

“Y/N?” 

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

[thefanficmonster]

Much Cooler

Corpse Husband & Emma Langevin 

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: There’s always a certain level of uncertainty when meeting someone you’ve only known online. There’s that sense of insecurity that your relationship with them will never be the same or - even worse - that their view of you might change for the worse. But there’s nothing more thrilling than seeing the person you’ve been talking to constantly for the past however long standing across from you. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so terribly sorry for how late it’s coming out but I hope the fic makes it worth the wait! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“CORPSE! Wake up you famous dumbass!“ is the first thing the poor man heard over the phone at 9 AM on this fine Saturday morning.

It’s more than enough to make him contemplate why he even decided to pick it up in the first place considering he wouldn’t have been very able to participate in the conversation due to his sleepiness. He also, of course, made the mistake of not checking the caller ID which apparently wasn’t necessary considering how recognizable that voice and accent are.

“It’s 9 AM, Emma.“ He states as a tired parent would to a child, “I’m concerned as to why you’re up so early. More so as to why you’re calling me of all people.“

He can practically hear her roll her eyes but he still smirks to himself, knowing she can’t contradict him or argue since he’s completely right with his claims. “Whatever. Remind me to never call you to congratulate you on a milestone again.“

Now that pokes at his attention with a stick. Lately, said attention has proven to be a hibernating bear, leaving Corpse with a lack of interest or motivation for anything but damn if that sentence wasn’t enough to roll him out of bed and hop on PC. “What? What milestone? Subscribers?“

“Nope! You got two million likes on ‘E-girls are ruining my life’! I can’t believe I have to tell you this! Didn’t you notice the numbers climbing?!“ Emma, as annoyed and sarcastic as she’s trying to sound, she’s obviously overjoyed on his behalf and is super proud of him and of the project she luckily agreed to take a small part in.

As his PC boots up, Corpse can’t help but roll his eyes at Emma’s comment, “Well unlike you I have better things to do than refresh a page over and over aga-” His sentence is quickly cut off when he sees the number of likes under the song for himself.

Knowing that he’d find it there didn’t change the feeling of seeing it for the first time at all. It’s so surreal and so hard for his mind to comprehend. Seeing as how little he thinks of himself, his content and his art, this is like his success coming to slap him across the face as if to punctuate to him how wrong that mindset is.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you offered to take me out for at least a coffee to celebrate, bro.“ Emma comments sarcastically, joking only halfway from what he can sense.

He smirks, “Trying to even the playing field, I see.” He replies, referring to the fact that he’s still a faceless mystery to her while her face is literally the cover art for one of his songs.

She laughs but is quick to dismiss his claim, “Nah, I might be a curious and nosey little shit on other occasions, but other people’s privacy is not something I dig my nose into. However, if I were to even the playing field between us it wouldn’t be appearance-wise. More personality-wise. For my sake and yours I choose to believe you are way cooler in person than you are through messages or on a call.”

This withdraws a genuine fit of laughter from Corpse who throws his head back, a few strands of hair moving aside to reveal his shiny eyes, “Well then, instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, how about we settle it once and for all? Tomorrow? I’ll text you the location.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot upwards as soon as she comprehends his words and the tone that leaves no room for her to assume he’s joking, “Wait what? How come you’re agreeing to this? And so easily? Nah, this a trap if I’ve ever seen it.”

Corpse laughs yet again, “No trap, Em. I just can’t have you doubting my coolness.”

                                                             *  *  *

The main reason as to why Corpse requested for this meeting to be today is because he feared that if he had more than twenty four hours to dwell on it he’d chicken out. Little did he know it was the same for Emma. Their friendship has only ever existed with the bridge of social media connecting them and they both can’t help but fear the other might not like who they are IRL. They fear they unintentionally become a different person or change things about themselves subconsciously when communicating with people online. Bottom line, they’re scared of letting the other person down with who they really are, unaware that their personalities are most likely the exact same because, as the people who know them can confirm, neither Corpse nor Emma are the type to put on a show in order to be liked. They would rather have no friends because of who they are than have friends and fans of their persona instead of the real them.

And so, while slightly afraid and anxious about this meeting, both of them see it as a relief test to see if the friendship is in fact as real as it’s seemed these past months.

Corpse was the one to choose the location of their meet-up, a location Emma didn’t even think twice about agreeing on, and ever since, they’ve both been counting the hours until their scheduled meeting time.  It’s not about impressing each other, at least that’s what they’re both telling themselves, but rather proving to the other that they’re worthy of their friendship. They might throw snarky and sarcastic comments at one another that others would give a side-eye glance to and question if their friendship is real, but they know the dynamic best and they sure as hell don’t wanna lose it or each other.

Best friends are the ones who roast each other after all - you can’t tell me I’m wrong.

The nervous Corpse fidgets with the insides of his hoodie pockets as he waits outside the café, having arrived ten minutes early because he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts in his apartment, judging every fragment of himself twice as harshly as usual. Emma, on the other hand, could barely bring herself to leave her home. She kept retouching her appearance, despite knowing Corpse wouldn’t judge her even if she showed up in pjs. To be fair she contemplated doing just that several times because her hair pissed her off enough to get her discouraged on her outfit altogether but she did eventually talk herself into pulling it together. She already knew she’d be at least five minutes late, but once again, she knew Corpse wouldn’t care.

He’d wait, cause that’s the kind of friend he was. Cause that’s the kind of friend she was for him too.

And boy did it take her less than a second to recognize him. She wasn’t even out of the car when she saw him and knew it was exactly who she was looking for. He too, as if with a sixth sense that registered her presence, shoots his head up from his phone to look up at her, their gazes meeting. There’s a brief moment of close-to-shocked silence, their eyes a bit widened as their brains comprehend that they’re within arm’s reach of one another.

That’s when Emma’s the first to break the bubble of awe as a wide grin spreads across her face and she runs to Corpse, wrapping him in a hug before he’s even realized the distance between the two’s been closed.

“Hey.“ She mumbles, her face hidden in his hoodie due to the height difference.

“H-hey.“ He replies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

“I was right.“ She says once she pulls away, “You are much cooler face-to-face.“ She pauses for a second, narrowing her eyes, “You’d be even cooler if you bought me coffee though.“

Earning a laugh from him, she’s guided into the café by the arm Corpse wraps around her shoulders, telling her he’s get her a milkshake cause he doesn’t want to see her high on caffeine. Needless to say, they both are, indeed, much cooler to one another IRL.

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[the-monkeies-girl]

Checkered Boards. [ Benny Watts Oneshot.]

I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING MYSELF AND THAT INCLUDES WRITING FICS FOR MYSELF. If you haven’t seen the Queen’s Gambit on Netflix, I totally suggest. Likes and reblogs are totally appreciated. thanks guys! - Miss Em. 

Title: Checkered Board. Pairing: Implied! Benny Watts x Reader. Words: 1, 149.  Rating: K. just some flirty happenings.

-=-

Your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as a beam of sunlight came in through the high windows of the hotel lobby. Despite it being sunny it was rather frigid and your blush-striked cheeks surely told of this as you had only stepped inside a few moments ago. Drawing a deep breath in, you felt strangely at home despite being hundreds of miles from it. There was nothing like the smell of a hotel; clean, perhaps too clean but that was never a bad thing, friendly as the faces that you passed on the way to the front desk were smiling with their mouths or with their eyes as an actual smile seemed too friendly to some. Checkered patterns caught your eye to the right. Someone had placed their packed up Chess set on the front desk as they were asked to confirm their identity to get their room. Once you saw that all too familiar pattern, it was spotting up everywhere. There were a few men to the left at a small table, one smoking while the other’s gaze was completely fixated by the board in front of them, deducing, crunching moves within their head before their fingers grasped a pawn and moved. You seemed mesmerized by the board, by the off white and black color of the squares before a voice behind you caught your attention.

“You gonna check in or are ya waiting for---” That voice. That slight Eastern accent that at times seemed a little too good to be true while at other times seemed to fade into oblivion. “(Name).” 

The tone fell slightly flat as he came to a realization. You had only turned your head ever so slightly, not figuring that this person was going to be able to identify you from merely your profile. But, you should have known better. A person who stares at a Chess board all day and loves it no doubt would be able to pick out such details about someone else's face, especially if this someone else had been face to face with him previously. Multiple times. Professionally and to your displeasure as of six months ago, personally.

How foolish, the dirty blond thought to himself, that he didn't recognize you from behind. You did hold yourself in a certain way that was like gravity at times that left him shaking mentally when your fingers would brush against one of his Chess pieces during a game. He shut his eyes and shook his head, repeating once again, “(Name).”

Sighing, you turned towards him completely, plastering a faux smile that he read right through, giving off a shit-eating grin in return. “Didn't expect to see you here---”

“It’s the US Open, Benny.” You murmured, suppressing the need to roll your eyes. His eyebrows rose almost comically at your blunt and straightforward statement.

 Of course it was the US Open. “Just didn't expect to see you, is all. After our last encounter, I was pretty sure you’d fallen off the face of the Earth.” Tilting your lips into an actual smile this time, you clutched your leather suitcase a bit tighter and snipped at him, “When I threatened to shove every pawn of yours up your---” “That’s the time.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Benny boy. I won’t quit Chess until your face is under my foot in defeat.”

“You should know better,” The tall, lanky man swiveled around and stood between you and the front desk, now altering your only out from the conversation. Groaning internally, you looked up at him, his dark eyes staring right back through a wash of eyelashes. “Going into games angry ain’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“Going into games as a flirt...” You retorted and shoved him aside. Fingertips brushed against the silver necklaces around his neck and it took all your willpower not to react to how it felt. Cold… Smooth... “also won’t get you anywhere.”

He held up his finger, “That was only with you and we weren’t even playing.”

Your face fell, mouth opening almost out of offense. 

“You know what I mean. We… weren’t playing in a tournament.” Scoffing, Benny watched intently as you began checking in, handing the front desk attendant your ID for verification. She smiled at you, checked the records before resting your room key on the desk. Grinning, you turned towards Benny.

“We were playing for something a little more intimate, don’t you think?” “Depends what you think is intimate,” Benny said softly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. You glanced down for a second and rolled your eyes again. He wasn’t gaudy. Well, maybe a little bit. Gaudy or confident, but those two things liked to go hand in hand sometimes. “A kiss… is well…”

“Depends,” You repeated his own phrase, picking up your key and scooting away from the desk at a slow pace. How you managed to walk, how your feet picked themselves up was miraculous especially when he followed you. “A kiss can be just a kiss unless there’s more behind it.”

His lips parted as you began trailing up the stairs, getting three steps in as he stayed on the ground level. It seemed like a romantic pose and the question that Benny inquired was uncharacteristic for his cocky attitude. He knew everything, his moves seemed calculated so why did he ask you… “Was there more from me or more from you?”

Tilting your head to the side, you smiled more or less to yourself before turning towards him and dropping down one step so you were nearly face to face. “Take a deep breath.” You whispered to him, “And ask yourself that again. Pretty sure you’ll answer for yourself.”

“There was more from you.”

Even though there was space between the two of you, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the mere audacity of that statement leaving you breathless and slightly choked. He was wrong. Benny was rarely so but you knew this confidently. The way that his hands held onto your face, the way that he leaned inwards, the way that his lips formed one sentence. Take a deep breath.“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Benny.” You muttered, turning on the stairs and trailing upwards.

He was left speechless, watching you ascend without quarrel. He fumbled, his hands rolling into balls before relaxing. He stepped upwards once, then twice. Then a couple steps at a time before grabbing your arm. You clenched your jaw, looking at the hand he had on your body. “What-” “Let’s play.”

“For what?” “For who had more in that kiss.” You turned towards him, swallowing hard as you noticed just how close he was and how it must have looked like to others as they went up and down the stairs around you as he had stopped you right in the middle. “Who had more. You or me?”

[anika-ann]

One Door Closes... (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2700

Summary: For Steve, your door is always open... or he thinks so. And even when it isn’t, it is.

In which one small Zoom mishap leads to an (un)usual ‘welcome home’.  

Warnings: brief mention of blood and violence, lightest angst, attempt at humour, crack-ish, fluff and language

A/N: For @anjali750, because this is totally her fault. Thank you for inspiring me :-* Have a little bit silly weekend reading, y’all!

“Tell me about it,” Steve encouraged you gently, soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth despite the pain it must be causing him due to his busted lip.

You couldn’t but grin at the lenient picture he made. Feeling blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of him probably calling you cute in his mind if his expression was anything to go by, you obliged, proceeding to tell him about the new project at work.

Your project. Because somehow, you finally earned your boss’ confidence and could bring the great ideas in your mind to life.

You felt so giddy just talking about it! So you started explaining, excitedly gesturing with your hands so Steve would get the right visual and you grew so enthusiastic that you almost forgot to keep an eye on him.

But you were watching him – always.

His lower lip was split, but already healing – it would have healed much faster if he stopped tugging at the healing skin whenever he talked or smiled at you from the screen. He looked a little drowsy, a shadow of a bruise forming on his cheek, but as far as you knew, those were the only injuries he had; that and many hours of sleep to catch up on.

Steve had a habit of calling you via Zoom whenever he got back to the Tower from a mission. He usually took a quick shower and was online until the last second before he had to leave for a debriefing; the only reason why he didn’t head straight to your place.

He admitted once that he loved seeing your face and talking to you even if for a moment after a mission, that it grounded him. On a very sappy and loveable moment, he even called you his sun; and the fact that after few minutes of being with you – as much as technology allowed – his face always seemed brighter, made you think that it truly was how he felt.

Even exhausted as he was now, you could tell his half-lidded eyes shined with life unlike when you started the call.

And so you kept rambling, feeling your heart bursting with love for your man and with euphoria, because goddammit, finally some recognition at work!

“Well, obviously, to reach as much general public as we can, we’re gonna launch a world-wide campaign! World-wide!” you emphasized with a blinding grin, throwing your hands wide to demonstrate.

---and your fingers caught in a cord from the laptop, pulling at it.

Steve’s benevolent face disappeared as your screen went black.

Because of course it did.

You had been talking yourself into buying a new laptop or at least having this one fixed for a few weeks now, because this was always the result whenever you accidently unplugged it. The battery was useless, ready to retire.

“Motherfu--- ugh!“

You wanted to be mad at the device – but this was totally on you.

Sighing, you hooked up the laptop again, waiting for it to wake up from a coma, shooting Steve an apologetic text in the meantime. Closing your eyes, you let your forehead lightly fall against your desk, mentally cursing yourself.

Dummy. If you only weren’t so lazy… and didn’t hate certain aspects of adulting with so much passion… you could have been talking to Steve-

Your eyes flew opened when it felt like it was quiet for too long; no reply to your text. Dread filled you and you quickly reached for your phone again, this time to dial.

You prayed you were wrong; but as the phone kept ringing with no one to answer it on the other end, you felt misery creep up you back and whimpered. Sliding your phone on the tabletop, your not-so-deft fingers stumbled over the keyboard, harshly welcoming it into the world of living by opening Zoom again to reconnect the call.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as the window opened---

An amused and yet somehow unimpressed face of Natasha Romanoff welcomed you and this time, you didn’t bother slowing down as your head hit the desk. It hurt, but that was only a presage of the real pain.

“Nooooooo,” you whined loudly, faking and not quite faking a sob, because shit.

“Oh yes,” Natasha hummed nonchalantly.

You straightened a bit in your chair, narrowing your eyes at her as you noticed the corners of her lips twitching while she pretended to be busy checking out her possibly-mission-broken nails.

“It’s not funny.”

She snorted and glanced at your no doubt desperate face.

“It really is. But also kinda sad,” the spy noted, something resembling concern flickering over her face before she scrunched her nose, irises twinkling. “And disgustingly cute. It has Rogers written all over it.”

You glared at her some more, not even bothering to roll your eyes.

“Tell that to my landlord,” you muttered under your breath, leaning your elbow on the tabletop and dropping your chin to you palm. A second later, a brilliant idea hit you and you tried to manipulate your legs from under you.

The thing was, even if you had a pretty good idea of what was coming if you didn’t stop it and knew that it would be a bitch to deal with, Natasha was right.

In a way, it was utterly cute, disarmingly charming and entirely heart-warming. Your stomach fluttered, the fabled butterflies flipping their wings, your face grew hot and your heart… well, it felt as if it was growing in size.

It was also sad, heart-breaking even; Steve, especially after a mission, was a man running on instincts. It was one of the reasons why he had developed a habit of calling you, why he wanted to hear you ramble about your either boring or exciting but always wonderfully normal day. A day which involved no shooting and no blood besides papercuts and a quarrel with your stubborn boss who shoot you glares at best.

On a mission, these carnal automatisms often meant survival. But back home, Steve didn’t want to be a sum of instincts of survival, fight and fear; he wanted to feel again. And with you, he did. He wasn’t just a Captain America, a soldier to be put on battlefield whenever the general found fit. He was a human being. A wonderful one at that, with beautiful soul.  

So yes. It was also rather upsetting.

And in a way, it was a little funny too. You knew it was totally your fault and that Steve was being kinda ridiculous, because he knew you and your inclination to wild gesticulations ending up catastrophically. On top of that, he was aware of this particular problem being almost a daily occurrence; hell, he tried to talk you into having Stark look at your laptop and failed.

And now... well. Here you were.

“You know, maybe if you get up and welcome him with door opened…” Natasha teased you with your own genius ides and you grinded your teeth, frantically trying to move your foot, which was pretty much on fire and yet dead.

“I would, but I… eh, pins and needles, was sitting on my feet,” you explained, embarrassed, testing whether your feet could carry you or not, naturally finding that without support, you’d be down before you could take as much as a step.

This time, Natasha didn’t snort in amusement.

Instead, she graced you with an outburst on honest full belly laughter, her red hair unfairly shiny for a woman who just spend week on a mission in damn Moldova and probably kicked more asses that you could imagine.

“You know what, Romanoff…” you grunted, forcing yourself to wobble towards the door. Very slowly. And cautiously. Knowing your luck, you might actually get hurt.

“I’m not even sorry,” she choked out and then continued to howl in laughter. “You so deserve each other. I finally know what the ‘idiots in love’ mean. Thanks for that!”

“You’re very welcome,” you huffed, voice dripping with irony.

Finally able to put full weight on both of your feet, you headed towards the exit – and entrance – of your apartment.

Halfway, you decided it was a lost cause. You would be willing to bet that the moment you’d touch the doorknob, you’d get hit to your face. It wasn’t worth it.

Yes, maybe if you did get hurt, it would make Steve think twice before coming all guns-and-shield blazing into your apartment; then again, it would probably cost you a broken nose.

Not to mention Steve’s tendency to get swallowed by the enormity of his guilt.

So not worth it. Best if you stayed put.

That was what you kept telling yourself when you stood there for about two minutes, in which you’d be able to open the door about forty times. Your annoyance – mostly with yourself and the cackling redhead – and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. As seconds ticked by, you were trying to convince yourself into taking the last few steps and opening the door and save yourself some trouble---

You yelped when the loud bang rattled your apartment the door sent flying of their hinges along with a spray of powered plaster despite knowing it was coming.

A glint of metal appeared next, the striking red, white and blue no longer there as it was covered in more bland colours for stealth missions.

And then a large figure cladded in blue shirt and grey jeans entered, his chest heaving, face flushed with red. Piercing blue eyes wiped of all previous traces of tiredness scanned the room, instantly falling on you as you awkwardly stood there, dumbfounded, startled and utterly speechless.

Also, much to Steve’s puzzlement, you were perfectly fine otherwise – even with both legs functioning, no remnants of pins and needles present.

Steve eased his posture instantly, eyes narrowing and then widening as he looked you up and down, lips parting in genuine surprise – and relief.

He said your name, clear and almost reverent, dropping the shield on the floor with a clang.

The ‘hi babe’ got stuck in your throat as you could see the tension leaving his shoulders, his eyes turning glassy and absent despite relief rolling off him in damn tsunami waves.

It hit you like a train – that you were delighted to see him, actually see him, even under these circumstances; and you truly didn’t want him to withdraw to some freaky brain-space after he had probably got one of the most ridiculous scares of his life due to the fact that his brain was not fully back in the normal world.

In the normal world where you abruptly disconnected a call without warning, because you talked too animatedly and not because some terrorist high on the FBI’s, CIA’s, NSA’s and SHIELD’s most wanted list found out you were Steve’s girlfriend and decided to take you out.

So to prevent another psychical horror trip of his, you went for distracting him – with a very relevant issue.

“You broke my door.”

Steve blinked, gaze refocusing on you fully, simply staring for a long moment.

“You went offline,” he objected quietly, a hint of accusation in his voice. God, you missed his voice.

“You broke my door, Steve.”

As if hearing his name was a spell, his frozen figure came to life and he took a cautious step closer, repeating his previous statement, this time with a hint of guilt.

“You went offline.”

“And you broke my door. That’s the second time this month, Steve! My landlords gonna k--- be real pissed at me,” you corrected yourself in the last second, not wanting say kill.

Steve ignored the slip and apparently got the message, his face twisting in genuine apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it!”

With efficiency of a supersoldier, he spun on his heels and rushed to pick up the door as if it was lighter than a paperweight and swiftly put it in place.

Only for the door to slowly tilt his way again. He caught it with a loud curse and moved it aside, leaning it partly against the wall. The action sent more plaster down onto the floor, like the only truly white snow in New York City. Peripherally, you noticed Steve grimacing, his face an expression an epitome of yikes.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head with a sigh, but couldn’t but chuckle. When you looked at Steve again, he resembled a 240 pounds giant Labrador puppy, truly regretful, approaching you reluctantly as if he was afraid you would slap his big paws for being clumsy.

What he would deserve was for you to clip round his ear for impulsiveness, but could you blame him? God knew what he had seen in Moldova in the past week, what horrors he had lived through and what a nightmare his mind had created when you ‘went offline’.

Him barging in like this due to your own dumbassery was kinda sad; a prove of his demanding job full of terror.

It was cute and heart-warming, because he just cared for you that much.

It was a little ridiculous, because as Steve finally crossed the distance between you two, the head of your elderly neighbour peeked from behind the empty doorway, puzzled and rather concerned.

You snorted unattractively, the scene in front of you seeming epically hilarious all of sudden.

“I’m good, Mr. T!” you called over Steve’s shoulder after the poor man who gossiped like an old woman and was just as hospitable. “Just my boyfriend fussing because of a technology fail!”

A grin spread on his wrinkled face; a testimony to years of laughter and amiability. “Oh. Hi, Mr. America!”

“Afternoon, Mr. T! I am verry sorry for disturbing you.”

The older-looking man waved off Steve’s politeness.

“It’s fine. You keep taking care of your lady, Mr. America, and keep her safe!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve humoured him with a salute, earning a wink.

As your neighbour walked away with a fresh topic for his Sunday tea party, Steve turned his attention to you again, eyes searching, wide, apologetic – but also soft, taking in the view of you, revelling in it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered lowly, the lopsided smile you loved so much gracing his face, once again pulling at that damn split lip. You grimaced a bit, the sight of him almost brining tears into your eyes; the gentleness and the remnants of fight punching you straight in the gut.

His eyes fluttered close when you lifted your hand and traced the line of the bruise on his face with the lightest pressure you were capable of. This time, tears definitely prickled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, cupping Steve’s cheek and pulling him close.

“Oh come here, babe,” you breathed out, fingers carding through his hair as he leaned his head on your shoulder, lips brushing the crook of your neck, strong arms embracing around your form.

He was warm and big and held you a bit tighter than necessary and dammit, you loved your sweet of heart and occasionally dumb of ass boyfriend. Boyfriend, who was crazy in love with you. Sometimes with emphasis on the crazy.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he muttered, nose nuzzling the sensitive skin of your neck, breathing in deeply. You pretended it didn’t do things to you as he did everything to get lost in you and leave all the bad behind. You failed.

“You’re totally paying for fixing my door.”

Well, maybe not failed entirely.

“Of course,” Steve assured you dutifully, no hint of humour in his voice.

It broke you on a completely new level; he was serious. Dammit you loved this man!

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted and this time, he did chuckle, squeezing you even tighter, hand running up and down your back. Without any warning, he tightened his grip and lifted you from the floor so you had to cling to him entirely, causing you to gasp.

You never got the chance to gather your wits and comment on that, because an annoyed voice of a certain redhead sounded from your laptop.

“…alright, you crazy kids, you had your cuddles. Now, Rogers, should I tell Fury you’re coming back for the debriefing or should we just finally change with the times and do it over Zoom?”

Clutching Steve’s waist and shoulder, face contentedly in his chest, you voted for the latter.

Steve Rogers masterlist

Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers​.

A fic from collection ‘This was supposed to be a drabble.’  Also, I couldn’t for the love of god figure out a better title.

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit :-*

Thank you for reading!

[tempestaurora]

in another time, a gladiator stucky au by @tempestaurora​

image IDs under the cut

IMAGE ID:

FIRST IMAGE: 

i.

 Sunlight dappled across the stone floor, casting cool, dancing shadows in the summer heat. Bucky yawned and stretched, flexing his toes into the sunspots and smiling from the warmth. He watched the newest boy to the school, a scrawny thing called Steve, stand alone in the courtyard.

He tipped his head to the side and called out, “New boy! Over here!”

Steve had straw blonde hair and eyes like the Aegean Sea. He seemed hesitant for a moment before heading over. When he arrived, he looked at Bucky like he might bite, but after sitting, he simply melted into the sunspot Bucky had found.

“You’re pretty small,” Bucky observed. “Your family sell you?”

“What? No, they didn’t.” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed; he seemed insulted by the mere notion. “Your family sell you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Indentured, actually,” he replied. “But they’re practically the same thing. Why are you here, then? You have dreams of being a gladiator?”

Steve scoffed. “No. I don’t. But it was either this or live on the streets.” He paused, twisting his fingers into his tunic. “My mater died, recently. She was all I had.”

Bucky stilled. “Oh,” he said. “Perhaps she is better off now; perhaps she is in the Land of Joy.”

Steve nodded, barely. “There are few places better than the underworld, these days.”

SECOND IMAGE:

ii.

Steve may have been small, but he was fast. He twisted and turned in combat, picked up the skills with ease, and learnt to use his size to his advantage. If he got hit, he was down, so Steve learned to avoid the punches thrown his way.

They trained year-round, through summer heat and winter snow, and soon they grew. Everything Steve learned about being small and fast was discarded when he hit his growth spurt at fourteen, suddenly taller than half his class and finally able to make the attacks, not simply dodge them. He watched Bucky often; the two of them nigh inseparable since his arrival at the school. Bucky was not a golden student, but he was a golden boy; his eyes were like Jupiter’s sky and his hair grew thick and dark in a shaggy mess.

There were few things Steve found himself caring about more than the only boy in all of Italia who knew him, inside and out.

[Beneath is a photo of  the ruins of a temple of Saturn, backlit by the sun. It is ethereal and quiet-looking, with green fields interspersed with crumbled architecture.]

THIRD IMAGE: 

iii.

 They had climbed up onto the roof of the gymnasium to gaze at the sweep of stars painted high above their town.

“Do you think you’ll be up there one day?” Steve whispered in the dark.

“In the sky?”

“The stars,” Steve clarified. “All the great heroes are immortalised in the stars.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be a hero – there’s not a drop of godly blood in me. What about you?”

“I don’t want to be a hero,” Steve replied. “I just want to travel; to see all of Italia and beyond. Pompeii and Corinth – maybe even see the Oracle of Delphi, one day.”

Bucky smiled. “I’d like that. I don’t want to be fighting forever.”

“Come with me,” Steve said. “We could go anywhere. We could go everywhere.”

Bucky stared at Steve under the star-lit sky and smiled.

FOURTH IMAGE:

iv.

                                        When they were eighteen, they moved to Rome. The Ludus Magnus gladiator school sat in spitting distance of the coliseum, and this was where they trained. They had long been learning their preferred style of combat – Steve, after shooting up and broadening, fought as a Thracian, with his broad-rimmed helmet, small rounded shield and curved sword. His only armour consisted of thigh-length grieves, while Bucky was granted a chest plate and greaves as a Dimachaerus, dual-wielding two swords.

They fought regularly in practice, but never in the ring drawn into the sand in front of an audience. There was a palpable fear Steve felt at making Bucky bleed. Some nights, he whispered prayers to whatever god might deign to listen – perhaps Mars, for war, or Venus, for love – and pleaded with them to never pit him against Bucky.

[On the right hand side is a close-up of a temple’s columns, with sunlight poking between.]

FIFTH IMAGE: 

v.

 Bucky knew Steve was watching from beyond the Gate of Life as he stepped into the ring for his first gladiatorial combat in the arena. Steve had already won his earlier that day in front of roaring crowds and amused royalty in the Emperor’s box.

Now it was Bucky’s turn, and he twisted his swords in his fingers, facing down his opponent across the ring. Bucky knew their job was to fight – fight and possibly even die – but he also knew his job was to give them all a show.

And Bucky was nothing if not a showman.

In the end, blood stained the sand a vivid red, but Bucky strode towards the Gate of Life, triumphant.

SIXTH IMAGE:

vi.

 There were always popular gladiators, and Steve didn’t know how to react, finding himself to be one of them. Women lined up outside the bathhouses he frequented; shared rumours that dipping their hairpins in his blood might bring them love, that his sweat would work as an aphrodisiac.

“I can see their point,” Bucky whispered one night, his mouth ravenous against Steve’s after a long day of training. Their bodies were always animalistic in these moments, whilst the school was empty and the others were out drinking the night away. They took everything they could get from each other; swallowed each sensation whole.

Steve never wanted these moments to end. He would throw all the glory and money away for more time with Bucky, for more nights like this.

SEVENTH IMAGE: 

vii.

 After amphitheatre fights, admirers and buyers alike would flock to the school where the gladiators lounged on cushions and benches, drinking wine and eating expensive foods. These were the nights Bucky enjoyed the most. No one was allowed to approach unless beckoned by a gladiator, and Bucky would often spend time toying with the admirers, allowing one or two over before sending them away again. Eventually, after the show, he’d slip away into the sleeping quarters or empty storage cupboard, and find Steve waiting there for him.

There was a miles-long list of things Bucky loved about Steve’s body, but number one on the list was how it fit against his own in the dark.

[Cut into the left side is a photo of the Coliseum in Rome.]

EIGHTH IMAGE:

viii.

 A few days before the festival, culminating in three days of games at the coliseum, their master told Steve and Bucky that they were scheduled to fight.

“It’ll be fine,” they told each other in the dark. “The fights rarely end in death. We’re not fighting to kill. We’re fighting to entertain.”

“We’re performers,” Bucky would say. “We’re just there to give them a good time.”

“Don’t act like no one ever dies,” Steve would reply, each and every time. “Don’t act like we haven’t killed our opponents before.” Sometimes, friends would enter the ring with them and never leave it. Sometimes, the audience called for their deaths.

It was blood lust, through and through. The men caught hold of that first splash of red and couldn’t let it go; they had to see more, they had to see death in all its forms. The gladiator could’ve fought bravely, wonderfully, and they might still end up slumped in the sand afterwards.

“Soon,” they would say, “we’ll retire and leave this for good. Soon, we’ll travel the world, like we always planned.” They would whisper lies and truths to each other, desperately tangling them together until they couldn’t tell them apart.

NINTH IMAGE:

ix.

 On the day of the fight, Steve stepped into the ring opposite Bucky and breathed in the cheering crowd; the hot, midday sun. They had kissed in the shadow of the underground corridors, and now faced each other, weapons raised, poised for battle.

It was bloody from the get-go; they were entertainers after all, and the audience was only entertained when they saw the streak of blood dampening the sand. They twisted and turned as if they were dancing, as if there was music playing and this was them, centre stage, having the time of their lives rather than anxiously hoping their blades wouldn’t cut too deep, that the bruises would soon heal.

And then Steve’s sword slashed too harshly at Bucky’s side and he faltered, hissing.

“Bucky—” Steve said, not moving in on the advantage, not moving at all.

Bucky straightened, removing his hand from his side, darkly red. “What are you doing?” Bucky asked, before raising his swords once more. “Fight me.”

“Bucky—”

“Fight me,” Bucky hissed, slamming his swords forward. Steve barely had time to raise his shield. He couldn’t stop staring at the thick blood leaking from Bucky’s ribs.

“No—”

“Steve—”

“No.”

Steve stepped back, feet almost at the ring’s edge. He dropped his shield, his sword to the sand. He held his arms out, palms towards Bucky, and said, “I won’t fight you, Bucky. Not ever again.”

So Bucky took the win, and the crowds jeered at Steve, and the Emperor held his thumb outstretched, unamused by the champion’s surrender.

“You won’t fight me,” Bucky spat, “but you’ll make me kill you instead?”

[Cut into the right hand side is an edited shot of the movie Gladiator; two gladiators rush towards each other to battle, with the crowds filling the stands. Much of the image is in shadow, with streaks of sunlight pouring down from the left side.]

TENTH IMAGE:

x.

 The sand was hot beneath Bucky’s feet; no lazy afternoon shadows in the centre of the amphitheatre. In front of him, Steve knelt facing away, his head tipped low to bare the spot at the top of his spine, all smooth skin tanned and unblemished.

The crowds roared around them and Bucky lifted his sword, pressing the tip at the base of Steve’s neck.

Steve flinched and said, just barely loud enough for Bucky to hear: “Perhaps I’ll go to Elysium… I hear there are few places better to be than the underworld, these days.”

But Bucky knew Steve would not go to Elysium. He was a warrior, but he was not dying righteously, not for fighting well. He was dying for surrendering, for caring about Bucky more than himself.

And Bucky—well he cared for Steve more than himself, too. They were the same that way. They always had been.

So Bucky stepped back, lowering his sword in his hand. He looked up to the Emperor, shadowed in his private box, and shook his head.  

“I won’t kill you, Steve,” he said, and Steve looked around in surprise, like it was really all that out of character. He held out a hand and pulled Steve to his feet, ignoring the roaring of the crowd, the anger that came from mercy.

“They’ll come for us,” Steve said, eyes wary. “They’ll kill us both.”

With one hand, Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb against his cheekbone, and with the other, he lifted the sword and twisted it. “Let them try,” he said. “But we have plans to travel the world. We’ve got no time for dying, Steve.”

And in the summer heat, they ran for the Gate of Life.

ELEVENTH IMAGE:

[A close up of two marble statues kissing.]

[END OF IMAGE ID]