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winchesterwild78 · 2 months

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Hunters and Secrets pt 1

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (dating), Sam Winchester x Reader (friends)

Warnings: mention of death, violence, fluff, squint for the smut (nothing too explicit-yet)

A/N: This is a short series I’m working on. Does not follow the Supernatural storyline. Inner dialogue in italics. This is a work of fiction, not a reflection of real life. No disrespect to anyone.

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

Dean, Sam, and you had been hunting together for years. Your parents were in the life and raised you in the life. Much like the boys, your parents died too. Their father, and your parents met when the three of you were younger and would often hunt together. After they died, the three of you decided to hunt and live together.

Dean was almost 2 years older than you and Sam was the same age as you. Sam and you were like siblings. The two of you confided in each other, and fought like brother and sister too. Dean would often have to play mediator to some of your arguments.

Dean, however, was the love of your life. The relationship started out innocently. You were on a hunt together and the tension from the day spilled over. Dean was pissed at you because he thought you were being careless, you were pissed at him because you thought he was being overprotective.

“Overprotective?!?! What the hell, Y/N! What did you expect? You’re family and you acted carelessly running into that building. You could have been hurt, or worse, killed!” He stepped closer to you. You, being shorter than Dean, stood up to him the best you could. “Well, I was thinking about saving those kids.” Your finger pushed into his chest. “If we would have waited any longer they would have died, Dean!”

He stepped closer to you. Your bodies were touching and your chests were heaving up and down. You could feel the heat radiating off of Dean’s perfectly toned body. You looked at him in his emerald green eyes and bit your lower lip.

You’ve looked Dean in the eyes before, but there was something different about him today. The tension and years of unspoken desires crackled in the air. Before your brain could register what was happening, Dean took you in his arms and kissed your lips.

The kiss was rough and needy at first. All the passion and unspoken words pushed onto both of your lips. You moaned as Dean deepened the kiss. When the two of you finally pulled away, you both were breathing heavily and your chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Dean lifted your chin with his fingertips. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” You blushed. Years of unspoken desire came out in that one kiss. You’d been in love with Dean for a few years now. Being afraid to mess up the only family you had left, you kept those feelings to yourself. Year after year, watching him in the arms of other women, bedding other women, and the time he left you and Sam to play house with someone. All of it almost broke your soul.

Sam had always encouraged you to tell Dean how you felt, but you told him you couldn’t. You wouldn’t risk your family for the possibility of unrequited feelings. Sam would always give you a hug and tell you he understood. He’d push a little more, but would eventually drop it.

That was a few years ago now. The night of the hunt when your feelings came to a head was the start of your and Dean’s relationship. He was the love of your life and you were his. Even though hunters had a hard life, you two made time to enjoy the little things with each other.

He’d take you on drives with the windows rolled down. The wind in your hair and his hand in yours or on your thigh. He’d make you breakfast in bed, or you’d bake him a pie. When you weren’t feeling good or it was that time, he’d always do something to cheer you up or make you feel better.

Most of the time it was wrapping you in his arms or bringing you chocolate. Dean had a hard time saying the words “I love you”, but he showed it with everything he did. You loved him and he loved you.

So going on this hunt with the boys was nothing new. You hated long hunts, because that meant a dingy motel room and a hard mattress. You’d become spoiled on the mattress Dean bought for the two of you. It was like sleeping on a cloud that conformed to your body. I definitely love memory foam.

Sam checked you guys in and brought out the keys. The boys were headed to the morgue and you were going to hang back and do some research. Before Dean left the room he leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. Then you and I are gonna get some alone time. It’s been too long.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. You blushed, “Dean, it’s been like 12 hours.” “Too long, sweetheart.”

Dean left and you sat at the computer smiling. You loved kissing Dean, but when the two of you were together in the bed it was something else. To the world he was gruff and a hard man, to you, he was soft and gentle and so easy to love.

Doing research for the cases came easy to you. Sam always joked saying you should have worked for the CIA or FBI because you had a knack for finding out information that most hunters couldn’t find. You would laugh it off, but deep down you had always dreamed of an “apple pie life” as Dean called it. Where you and Dean worked jobs you loved, you were married and had at least 2 children, a boy and a girl.

That of course was something you knew you’d never have. Some days it made you sad to think you’d never have that kind of life with Dean, but most days you just pushed the dream down. Hunters were good at that, pushing down their dreams and desires for the “job”.

Look at Sam for example, he wanted to be a lawyer. He would have made a damn good one too, but the hunter's life pulled him back in. Dean, well Dean wanted to be a firefighter. Another dangerous job where he was saving people, but at least he could have a wife and kids.

You’d been doing research on this case for what seemed like hours. Your eyes hurt from looking at the computer screen and your body ached from sitting on the wood chair for so long. You stood and stretched. Deciding to go to the lobby to grab some coffee, you grabbed your coat and headed out.

It was dusk when you emerged from the room and there was something in the air that set your hair on end. Maybe it was the chill of the night air, maybe it was being in a strange place. Whatever it was, it made you very uncomfortable. You pulled out your phone to call Dean and noticed a missed call from him. You listened to the voicemail: “Hey sweetheart, we’re heading to the police station now. We think we’re dealing with some sort of vampire. Never seen anything like this, but that’s what we’re thinking. Stay inside until we get back. Be careful.” A shiver went through your body as you hung up. You spun on your heels to head back to the room when you came face to face with a dark figure standing in front of you.

“What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” The figure growled out. Trying to slow your heartbeat and steady your voice you took a breath. “I’m not alone, my husband and brother are here with me.” “Husband, huh? You mean that hunter. He’s not your husband.” The figure stepped closer and you could smell the putrid stench coming from him. He smelt like death and decay. You winced at the smell.

You tried to step around him “that’s what you think. You touch me and he’s going to kill you.” “Oh, is that right? Well, why don’t we see about that.” Before you could respond or run, the figure had you up against the wall of the hotel. The figure’s cold, bone-like fingers gripped your face. His mouth inches from your ear. “I think I’ll have a little fun with you before I kill you. Maybe I’ll turn you and send you back to your beloved.”

You swallowed hard as a tear ran down your face. You couldn’t imagine hurting Dean or Sam. You whimpered “Please don’t hurt me, or them.” The figure stepped back slightly and looked at you in bewilderment. “Aren’t you a hunter too? Why are you giving up so easily? I thought you’d put up at least a little fight. How disappointing.” He growled and you saw his teeth clearly. He was a vampire, but something else too.

You let more tears fall as you saw his guard dropping. As he let go of you, you lunged forward and grabbed the machete from your pant leg and with one slice you took off his head. “Ha! Never trust a crying hunter jackass.” You kicked his lifeless body. You knew you were dealing with a vampire before the phone call from Dean, so you’d never leave the room without protection.

Dean and Sam pulled up not long and saw you standing there over the body, covered in blood. Dean put Baby in park and jumped out of the car. “Y/N! Are you okay?” You smiled and nodded, lifting your machete. “Never leave home without it.” You smirked.

Dean wrapped you in a hug “that’s my girl.” Once the boys dealt with the body the three of you sat down and you told them what happened. Sam was laughing “I can’t believe he fell for your tears. What a gullible asshat.” “Oh come on Sammy, you’ve fallen for them too.” You teased him.

“Well boys, I need to shower and get this blood off of me. I’ll be out soon.” You kissed Dean and grabbed some clean clothes. Dean watched you as you disappeared into the bathroom. He longed to be in there with you and Sam knew it. Sam stretched “Well, I’m gonna head to bed. See y'all tomorrow.” Dean nodded “Yeah, night Sammy, and hey, thanks.” Dean smiled at Sam. “You’re welcome, now try to keep it down.”

Dean smiled and got up to lock the door. He heard you in the shower singing and he smiled. You always sang after you killed a monster. It was your way of calming your nerves. He knew you hated killing things, even monsters, but would do it to keep people safe.

Dean made his way to the bathroom and opened the door. He stood there for a minute listening to your voice fill the room. He loved you so much, even if it was hard for him to say it. He was thankful you never pushed. You’d said it dozens of times, but he’d never once said it. Part of him felt guilt over it, but it wasn’t something he could force himself to say. He’d show you in the way he cared for you, held you, made love to you, and kissed you. He knew you knew he loved you and that’s what mattered.

“Heya sweetheart. Need some company in there?” His voice breaking through your song. You moved the shower curtain back a little and smirked “You know I do, come on baby. Get in here.” He stripped and jumped in causing you to giggle. “Sammy gone?” You asked. He nodded as he started kissing you.

His hands ran over your soapy frame as he pulled you close. Your lips captured him in a heated kiss. “I need you, Dean. So much” You whispered into his ear. He reached around you and turned off the water, pulling you towards the bed.

The two of you tumbled on the bed, soaking wet from the shower. Dean’s body hovered over yours as your breaths mingled. The electricity of the moment filled the room with want and need. About two hours later the two of you, satisfied and exhausted, crawled into the other, dry bed and held each other. “I love you, Dean, so much.” He kissed your head and whispered, “I know, me too.” You sighed contently and slowly drifted off to sleep in Dean’s arms. The words “I love you” never left his lips, but you knew. You always knew how much he loved you.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester

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enkas-illusion · 3 months

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About My Man

About My Man - Part 1/5

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: SFW - Regardless, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, language, hurt/comfort

Chapter Summary: Question – How to tell your crush that he is your crush without actually having to admit that you have a crush on him?

Author’s Note: Hello, another Choso short story, this time with his personatilie stolen from my beloved boyfriend. All characters are in their mid 20s. I've tried to keep the job as vague as possible so that the girlies could be delusional in peace. This is gonna be a 3-part story (probably). Thank you for reading!

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: for lovers who hesitate by JANNABI

“What about yours?” you hear the words but your brain fails to register them.

You stare at your crush, nothing but creeping panic behind your eyes while he looks at you expectantly.

What was he talking about again?

“What about me?” you smile at him awkwardly.

“Is it just me or has she been zoning out quite a lot recently?” Your other colleague Satoru interjects, further highlighting your unusual aloofness.

“Yup, I've noticed it as well,” Choso, the crush in question, agrees.

“It's just that… I'm worried about the Smith’s project,” you lie.

“... that we closed today?” Satoru raises an eyebrow in suspicion.

Thanks, Sherlock!

“Well, I’m just worried as the team leader, I guess?” You try your best to make your lie seem legit.

“Okay nerd… anyway, Choso was really interested in your love life,” Satoru giggles. You look at Choso for clarification and he stares back alarmed.

“That’s not– Maki was talking about the guy she met last week so I just wondered about yours,” Choso explains and you turn to look at Maki and she simply giggles, akin to the female lead of a romcom on finding the superhot main lead, as her body practically melts on the sofa.

“Whatever gave you the impression that I was dating someone?” you ask Choso curiously.

“Umm… I actually overheard your conversation last week when you were talking to Luna in the kitchen,” his face shows his embarrassment clearly as he confesses laughing awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “Not much though! Just before I got there, I heard you gushing over someone, so I assumed you were dating?”

Question: How to tell your crush that he is your crush without actually having to admit that you have a crush on him?

“Oh” you chuckle dryly, “you know it’s not nice to eavesdrop, Cho.”

You give your colleague-cum-roommate, Luna, a quick glance filled with panic and it’s enough for her to take over the matter to ‘help’ you.

“Yup, she’s in a long distance relationship. Thought you guys knew?” Luna's lie had a much better flair than whatever you would’ve blurted out.

However, pardon, the fuck?

How did you even get here? This was supposed to be one of your regular chill Friday nights with the group hanging out at your and Luna's apartment as per usual.

Due to its location being the closest to your office, your house was the unofficial hangout spot after work on the weekends.

Naturally, you find yourself cursing the moment you invited everyone for late night drinks tonight.

Satoru’s voice breaks your inner monologue, “Really? Since when?”

“Since when what?” you ask.

“Now I think you’re just pretending to be clueless!” the white-haired devil complains.

“I’m just tired… from doing all your work too!” you tease him.

“Don’t change the topic,” his smile drops as he stares dead into your eyes, “Since when have you been dating this guy? How did I not get the info on him yet?”

“A few weeks?” you say it more like a question than a definitive answer.

“Oh, good for you,” Choso gives you a formal obligatory smile but doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Well, don’t be shy! Tell us more about the lucky guy,” if only Satoru knew when to shut the fuck up too.

“Oh, it’s nothing really… Just someone back home,” you end it at that, hoping for this torture to end soon.

“Hmm, what’s his name?” the hell, in fact, did not end.

Right in that moment, as if your brain shifted into autopilot mode, desperate to save you from a huge embarrassment, your mouth uttered a name that surprised you too, “Suguru.”

Luna looks at you, impressed by how well you’re holding up the lie, but decides to help you by changing the topic out of mercy, “Omg, guys, I totally forgot to tell you but did you hear that Kento’s girlfriend apparently cheated on him? I mean, imagine cheating on the Nanami Kento.”

“Wait, the perfect looking blondie from accounts?” Gojo asks curiously.

You’d heard the story last week in detail so you quickly excuse yourself to go to the kitchen. You get a bottle of cold water and chug it down, feeling it ease the dry burning sensation in your throat. You sigh as you crouch against the kitchen counter.

What the fuck? To recap, you just destroyed all hopes of a possible romance between you and your current crush by lying about a fake relationship with your ancient teenage crush. Cool!

“You alright?” Choso’s voice startles you as you turn to look at him and smile.

“Yeah, just tired,” you sigh.

“So… Suguru, huh?” he states plainly as he grabs another bottle from the refrigerator, standing across from you.

You half-convince yourself to tell him the truth but don’t quite get there as your fear of embarrassment outweighs everything else. So you end up with just a half-baked, “Yup…”

“Hmm”

“Why? Does it bother you?” you tease him as usual to dissolve the awkwardness.

“Can’t say I’m thrilled…” he mumbles, looking up at you. His eyes hold your gaze in a stupor and for a moment you actually wonder if there’s still some hope left for you.

“To be hon–” your sentence is cut off when the white-haired devil reappears.

“Choso, we're leaving. Still want me to drop you home?” Satoru waits at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Yup, let's go,” Choso replies before looking at you again, “I guess I'll see you later then... good night.”

You just nod and hug him briefly when he extends his arms for you before the two guys leave.

As much as you liked Choso Kamo, it was impossible to decipher whether he reciprocated your feelings or not. And you weren’t too keen on making a fool of yourself in such an astronomical manner.

Well, what’s another unrequited crush, right?

“Did I fuck it up?” Luna asks, guilt lacing her voice, the minute she closes the door when everyone leaves.

“Kinda? Can't say I blame you though. You were just trying to save me from imminent embarrassment,” you let out a dry chuckle as you collapse on your living room sofa.

“Is it really that big of a deal? Just tell Choso you like him. It's like ripping off a band-aid,” she sits next to you.

“Well… you just reinforced the band-aid with concrete,” you laugh, finding your own misery weirdly amusing.

A few moments pass by in silence. While you may not have the power to hear your roommate’s thoughts, you know her well enough to believe she’ll have a solution for your problem soon enough. As if on cue, she speaks again.

“Umm… How about… tell the guys you couldn't do long distance! Say that Suguru broke up with you in like a week or so?” she suggests.

You stare into nothingness, contemplating it seriously – wondering all the possibilities and details of the elaborate lie. Luna brings you back to the present with her next question.

“Anyway, who's Suguru? Does the man exist in real life?”

You snort at her question, “Very real… kinda wish he wasn't though.”

She waits for you to explain further so you continue, “You remember the story about the guy from my hometown? About the guy who kissed me but then decided he wasn’t sure if he was a ‘relationship kinda guy’?”

“Oh! That was Suguru?!” Luna exclaims, connecting the dots.

“Yup… first real crush and real kiss… you know, the tongue type,” you sigh as you reminisce, causing Luna to giggle at the dramatic look on your face.

“Hey! Don't laugh… it was right before we both left for college, shit hurt,” you pierce a fake dagger into you heart.

“Aww. Just one week babe. Put an end to your fake relationship and go back to whatever you got going with Choso,” she reiterates the game plan.

“Right… I might be into it even deeper for Choso than I ever was for Suguru. I really do need to fix this,” you mumble in a defeated tone.

“Hey, stop with the depressed, longing-for-love look! Just tell him how you feel for fucks sake!” she scolds you.

“Right, I'll sort this out and tell Choso how I feel!” You say with a half-determined half-dubious look in your eyes.

You get up to retire to your bedroom, leaving your friend behind and find your peace in the comfort of your dreams for the night.

~~~

The very next weekend, you make sure to set the record straight and tell the group about your very ‘sad’ breakup, cooking up an elaborate story about how the distance took its toll on the relationship and blah blah blah – catching yourself just enough to not go overboard with the lie.

You caught a sympathetic look from Choso that covered up the relief of his jealous heart well.

“Well, you deserve better anyway,” he patted your head softly.

“Thanks,” you chuckled, “but you don’t even know the guy.”

“I know you well enough to know that you deserve someone who doesn't let distance get in the way of showing his love,” there's sincerity in his voice and you try your best not to blush and turn into a puddle right then.

The whole evening your mind's preoccupied with gauging how long you could wait after your fake breakup to confess to Choso without seeming like a psycho who doesn't experience heartbreak.

Luna suggests a period of mourning for a week. You counter it with ‘2 months… MINIMUM’. By the end of your discussion with your roommate, you decide on 1 month.

In one month's time, you'll confess to Choso… or try your best to seduce him into confessing instead.

You still had time to plan the details.

Or so you'd thought.

A week passes by and you slowly start to get back your usual friendly flirtatious relation with Choso, who for reasons unknown to you, had really started to get more daring with his advances.

So when your phone rings in the morning as you reach your doorsteps, right after your morning run together, you pick it up with a bright “Hiiiii”

“Hi gorgeous, how you doin’?” his voice resonates at the other end of the call.

“You mean since the last 15 minutes when you dropped me off at my place?” You giggle as you try to find your apartment keys in your gym bag with one hand.

“Every minute we're apart is torture to me,” if someone heard Choso speak, they would reach the conclusion that you were indeed entering the talking stage with him.

“You know I have enough cheese at home, right?” You joke, but not without smiling ear to ear.

“Ha. Ha.” he says plainly, yet he can't help but let his tone give his giddiness away even when he's trying to be sarcastic, “When should we get the pizzas?”

You jimmy the keys in the lock before pausing to think, “I'll ask Lu, but 7 should be fine, I guess? Anyway, that's 9pm on Gojo time.”

You don't hear Choso’s next sentence because your attention shifts to someone calling your name behind you.

You turn around and it takes a moment for you to register the presence of the man standing in front of you.

A man so beautifully breathtaking that you can’t help but check him out purely based on natural human instinct. A beauty so magnetic that even those without any intention would risk it all for him.

You stare at his tall, muscular built – arms covered in exquisite tattoos that play hide and seek on his skin, obscured by the half rolled up sleeves of his hoodie. Long black hair tied up in a loose bun with two short strands escaping the rubber band's hold to adorn the outline of his face.

And his face, the only part you recognize as if it were just yesterday that you saw him and let him break your heart before you left town for dreams of a better future.

“Hello?” Choso's voice on the other end snaps you back to reality.

“Cho, I'll call you back,” you hang up, finding yourself in a state of reverie.

“Hi stranger… Do you remember me?” the man smiles at you.

“Of course I do, Suguru.”

~to be continued~

Part 2

#choso x reader #choso kamo #erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsukaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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littlestpersimmon · 1 year

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Just one more vent post and I will do my best to be "normal" but *scream* ever since he died the day did not end!! It has been one long horrible dream, like literally it feels like a dream. All I can think about is.. when I was 9, mom "died".. iirc she was dead for almost 15 minutes and my aunts screamed and screamed and then transfered her to a private hospital and she was miraculously revived.. its all I can think about like.. no something has to be done, they can probably do something still for him.. like bring him back.. its both been 4 days and also only 1 day, because that day did not end..!! I can't think, I can't work, I can't eat. It happened so quick- what do you mean he is dead, I was just talking to him. I owe him two dollars. My support network cannot understand how I could possibly grieve someone who has hurt me in so many terrible ways, but Jews have never been in the business of condemnation, I've always been taught that there is no hell, not so sure about heaven either, and I sat with my cousin, and we both cried and thought of ourselves as "bad survivor apologists" because we both don't feel an iota of resentment or anger, we just felt anguish and dazedness- literally like walking in a dream. Maybe I am using his death as an excuse to play video games all day, but on g-d I have never felt such paralyzing anxiety and agony and restlessness like this. He will never wake up again. It feels like, I don't know. All I can think about is how I owe him two dollars, how he was a penniless drug addict who spent his last 5 dollars to buy me a pencil with a butterfly on a spring bouncing on its top. Its like this total darkness where my brain is not registering anything else, All I can think about is please g-d. Pleade g-d.. please HaShem... how hard I'm trying to make my way across that darkness to get my damn pencil back.

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hadesforpreswrites · 1 year

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dirty laundry, pt. 1

a/n: i wrote this when i was feeling incredibly low. it's based on something that happened to me. the title is from all time low. might have a part 2.

before you read this, be aware that this particular piece deals with the after effects of trauma (rape). it doesn't deal with it right after the incident but it shows how even after over a decade it can still affect someone.

before we proceed further: this is your warning that description of sexual assault on a minor will happen. this is based on truth as well as being a work of fan fiction.

i fought so hard with myself to even post this but was encouraged by @remedyx. if you don't want to read it, please by all means don't. but if you do, please be kind.

if something similar has happened to you, please reach out to me if you feel like you need to talk. i love you, you are worthy.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: talk of past sexual assault, trauma talk, depictions of depressive episode

word count: 2,585

summary: after seeing something triggering online, y/n is struggling. noah learns some deep secrets of his friend and tries to help.

part two part three part four part five

she’s got her secrets/yeah, i’ve got mine too

meeting friends when you’re adults means you have to understand that you will not know everything about them as easily as if you were kids. it was something that rang true for everyone.

noah understood this and was ready and willing for his friends to have secrets from him. pasts that didn’t want or need to be explained. all that mattered to him was that they were there here and now.

that is until one day when his friend messaged a group chat that consisted of him, andy biersack, and his other friend, scarlett. scarlett messaged them saying that their other friend, one they had planned a birthday party for in this very group chat, was having a very hard time.

that wasn’t new, she had been having a rough go of it off and on for a couple of months. something to do with her meds and the pharmacy being out-of-stock, something that confused the hell out of noah. but something about this time felt different.

noah abruptly stood up, startling his friends that he was with. in his worry and being glued to his phone for the last however many minutes, he had almost forgotten where he was.

“you good, man?” nick asked.

“yeah, i just gotta go do something for a friend.”

“is it y/n?” jolly teased.

“as a matter of fact, yes,” noah said while gathering his things. he waved to his friends, promising to meet up with them again soon, and took off out of the house.

he barely buckled his seatbelt before taking off in his car toward scarlett and y/n’s house. in his relatively short drive, his brain was swirling with possibilities of what was wrong. why had scarlett threatened men specifically? (this time anyway) could he still pick a lock? (probably) what if y/n didn’t want to see them? (she usually did but what if this time was different?) what could he do specifically to make her feel better? (maybe ice cream - she likes ice cream) could he get her to open up and spill this obviously heartbreaking secret to him? (he sure hopes so, but is he prepared for the aftermath?)

he barely registered that he had pulled into the driveway beside andy’s car because it was such an autopilot response to go to their house at this point. he locked his car and walked up to the front door. he didn’t even bother knocking as he entered and was met by the smell of pizza baking in the oven.

“great! everyone’s here!” scarlett said loud enough to be heard throughout the house - obviously trying to get y/n’s attention.

“is she still in there?” noah asked, slipping his shoes off at the door.

“only came out to get water right before we got here,” juliet said, casting a glance down the hall.

“door may be unlocked now though,” scarlett said thoughtfully. “maybe i’ll go peek my head in.”

“i’ll do it,” noah offered, quickly. too quickly if the smirks on his friends’ faces was any indication. he shook his head as he walked down the hall toward y/n’s room.

he knocked softly and listened closely. “i’m fine,” a quiet voice sounded through the wood, followed by a sniffle.

“you don’t sound fine, doll,” he said as he leaned his forehead against the door. “can i come in? please?”

“it’s unlocked.”

when he entered her room, his heart shattered. the ever-present blue twinkle lights she had strung around her room had been shut off, along with any mention of light from anywhere else, except her phone screen. she had her comforter pulled up to her ear with her back facing him.

he shut the door softly behind him and padded across to the bed. he climbed under the covers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. he felt her stiffen at the contact but not pull away, instead leaning into him once she calmed.

he knew this had to be crossing some sort of imaginary line he’d set for himself but he couldn’t help himself. his friend, honestly probably his best friend, was hurting and that trumped any romantic feelings he has for her.

“when did you get here?” she asked, sniffling again.

“just now. needed to know you were at least physically okay. what happened? i thought you got your meds worked out?” he asked, softly.

“i did. it’s not that. i wish it were that because then i don’t feel like i’ve failed.”

“babe, whatever it is, you haven’t failed anything.”

“yes, i have. i thought i’d worked through it and then i see one thing online and suddenly my brain throws away over a decade of work,” her hand moves to wipe newly fallen tears.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks, realizing it may be a feeble attempt.

“no. but i should,” she sighs before turning around to face him. “i just don’t want you to think differently of me.”

he keeps his arms firmly around her and chances a kiss to the top of her head. “y/n, i think the world of you and nothing is gonna change that.”

“promise?” he could feel his t-shirt dampen with tears.

he pulled away just enough so he could look her in her eyes. eyes that held a pain he never knew was there. he feels a sense of rage bubble up in him at whoever caused this precious human this amount of pain. “promise.”

she took a steadying breath and began to sit up. they sat side-by-side, backs against the headboard, his legs spread in front of him and hers pulled up to her chest, protecting herself.

“when i was 15, i was in a really bad place. i was undiagnosed, unmedicated, and wanting love. so i took what i could get from whoever i could get it from. i wasn’t promiscuous or anything, in fact i’ve never had sex. i just wanted someone to love me because i couldn’t love myself.

i dated this guy who was all kinds of wrong but i thought i was in love. he kept breaking my heart so one day when we were broken up, i decided to invite his friend over to hang out. i thought he was cute and we made out and stuff but that was as far as i wanted it to go,” she took a breath and a drink of water as tears filled her eyes again.

he knew where this was going and he felt himself getting even more angry but he let her keep going.

“i tried to keep him off me, i really did. he was pulling my shorts so hard and i was trying to keep them on, i thought my nails would break. i kept crying and saying no over and over. but it was like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t hear me. but i know he did because when he stopped, he called me a tease and wiped his hand on a stuffed animal that was near the bed.”

he wanted so badly to hold her and tell her he’d never let that happen to her again, but he held himself back not wanting to make things worse.

she cleared her throat after a moment of pause. “anyway, i was working through it on my own for years and didn’t tell anyone until like a year later. and then when i got in therapy we worked on it for a bit and i thought i had gotten better. but i was scrolling through tumblr and came across this story that was non-con, non-consensual, and it just fucking broke me.

i don’t normally kinkshame or tell people what they shouldn’t do because that’s their business but i’ll never understand non-consensual, rape fantasies. there’s absolutely nothing to fantasize about. it’s humiliating. it’s painful. physically, mentally, and emotionally. it makes you feel like you’ll never be clean again and that you’re not worthy of even the smallest of respect or love.

noah, i worked so hard to make myself believe that i’m not dirty or broken and that i am worthy. i worked so hard and it was just stripped away from me again like it was nothing.”

“i know you did. you always work hard. and let me tell you something,” he moved so he was right in front of her on his knees. he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “you are so worthy. you’re the worthiest person i know. you deserve the world and he doesn’t even deserve a grave. you’re not broken or dirty, you’re strong and beautiful. and i am so lucky to have you in my life, you know that, right? and now you don’t have to work as hard because you won’t be doing it by yourself.”

“promise?” her voice was small.

“i promise,” he confirmed.

she basically launched herself at him with a sob and wrapped her arms around him. he pulled her into his lap and held her. oh how he had imagined this moment, but she was not crying in his imagination.

“will you stay with me?” she asked into his chest.

“always,” he kissed the top of her head.

after some time, she stopped shaking from crying and relaxed in his arms.

“let’s get you some food,” he said.

“ice cream?”

“absolutely,” he chuckled. “but i think scarlett made pizza if you want some of that first. if there’s any left, andy and juliet are here too.”

“i might could do that, then ice cream,” she decided, pulling away from him.

“deal,” he stood up from the bed, taking her with him. after setting her down on her feet, he grabbed her hand - just to make sure she knew he was staying by her side, and they walked toward the kitchen.

“hey, sunshine,” andy said as they emerged from the darkened hallway.

“hey, sorry,” she said as she wrapped an arm around him and then juliet, still holding noah’s hand.

“you don’t have to apologize,” juliet said, as she smoothed the other woman’s hair. “you’re allowed to have people worry about you.”

“we’re more than happy to be those people for you,” andy backed her up.

y/n gave them a small smile and eyed the pizza.

“here’s your gross ass pizza, my love,” scarlett said, handing her a plate with a piece of her favorite pizza on it.

“you’re the best roommate a girl could have,” she said, sitting at the bar by andy, noah sitting on her other side.

“yeah, yeah,” scarlett said, intently watching as y/n took a bite of her pizza.

conversation buzzed around them as she finished her slice, she only wanted one right now - her main focus on the ice cream in her future. noah participated in the conversation on the outside but on the inside he was replaying her story over and over in his head like a movie on loop. he was angry for her. he had questions. but he wasn’t sure when was the right time to ask - though he knew not right now in front of everyone.

he must have zoned out because when he came too he was met with the expectant eyes of y/n.

“sorry, what?”

“ice cream?”

“of course,” he replied, rising from his spot at the bar.

“let me go change real quick,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.

“for why?”

“i’m in pajamas?” she motioned to her shorts and oversized t-shirt. a shirt that he just realized belonged to him at one point.

“we don’t have to get out of the car,” he said, standing up fully. “you look fine.” he didn’t miss the look that andy, juliet, and scarlett passed between them.

“you don’t let people eat in your car,” she trailed off.

he leaned down to look her in the eye, “consider yourself special, then. let’s go.”

before he turned around he caught a glimpse of a blush creep on her face and felt a sense of pride. he didn’t catch the way she looked at scarlett with wide eyes, or the way juliet motioned for her to move. andy was grinning at the whole scene.

she got up and slipped on a pair of sandals that were near the door and followed noah out the door and toward his car. he opened the passenger door for her. “well, thank you kind sir,” she said before sliding into the seat.

he chuckled as he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side. once he was buckled and started toward her favorite ice cream place, he chanced a look at y/n as she looked out the window.

“hey,” he said softly. “you okay?”

“i will be,” she answered. “it’s just a lot to process.”

“i can imagine. can i ask you something?”

“of course.”

“when you were telling me what happened, you said that you’d never had sex before it happened?”

“yeah. so my first and only experience with sex was that. which is why i always get weird when you guys start talking about it,” she explained.

“i’d always wondered. wait. did you say your only experience?” he was baffled.

“yeah,” she answered, finally fully looking at him.

“that honestly explains so much. and also i’m so sorry that your experience was that.”

“you don’t have to apologize. it happened. it sucks. it sucks a lot. and sometimes i feel like i’m missing out on a whole world. but most of the time i’m fine.”

“don’t do that,” he scolded.

“do what?”

“minimize your trauma to make you seem more palatable. it’s not helpful. it’s not cute.”

she went quiet and looked away, back out the window.

he kicked himself. that came out a lot harsher than he meant. he pulled into a parking spot at the ice cream place and told her to sit tight while he went to get the ice cream. she didn’t argue.

“y/n,” he said when he slid back into his seat, ice cream in hand.

she was surprised to see he got exactly what she wanted, not that she deviated from what she liked all that often. she just wasn’t aware of how much he paid attention to her.

“i didn’t-” he started. “i didn’t mean for that to come out that way. i just meant that i don’t want you to minimize with me. you’re allowed to feel however you feel.”

“i know. i just guess i didn’t realize that’s what i was doing.”

“you do it all the time, doll. i just never knew why and i think i get it now.”

she smiled softly. “how did you know which ice cream i wanted?” she knew the change in subject wouldn’t go unnoticed but hoped he would catch on that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore for the time being.

he pulled out his phone and went to the notes app. “i keep track of your favorites.”

she blushed. “why?”

“haven’t caught on yet?” he smirked at her.

“caught on to what?”

“i’m practically at your beck and call. i let you and no one else eat in my car. i apparently let you wear my clothes,” he gestured to the t-shirt she was wearing.

“noah, i don’t understand.”

“how can someone be so smart and so blind at the same time? i’m basically in love with you, dummy.”

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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previousloversandmuses · 1 year

Text

FREQUENCY: Episode 7 - A Soldier Boy Story

FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 7: “Dead Man Walking”

WORD COUNT: 6033

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW) SMUT (spoiler sorry) (finally) P IN V UNPROTECTED SEX (pls use proper birth control in your everyday life) Mentions of suicide, depression, drug & alcohol use. Violence, stalking. Homelander and SB being themselves. Offensive slurs.

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns.

PLEASE DISREGARD SPELLING ERRORS AND FORMATTING ISSUES SOMEONE BROKE MY COMPUTER AND I HAD TO FINISH WRITING AND UPLOADING THIS ON MY PHONE. I WOLL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET HOME TMRW ON MY DESKTOP BUT I WANTED TO GET IT UP ASAP ILY

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Sure, he could have ventured downstairs and harassed Vought Security by now, but no. He wanted the satisfaction of guessing this. He wanted to know how well he knew her. He wanted her to know how well he knew her. That he would appear on her doorstep like a knight in shining armor. But right now, he’s convinced he doesn’t know her much at all.

He started with her birthday, which he didn't know, but neither does she-- at least, he didn’t think she did. He’s not sure when his birthday is either, and they were both raised in the lab, so. That makes sense, right? He tried her favorite color, which he thinks may be green? That would make sense? She likes the forest? But it also could be pink because she is a woman after all, and all women love pink. Celebrity crushes? Him, of course, but that doesn't work either. And he thinks he doesn’t have the emotional security to even try another name.

“ILoveJohn…”Johnandme”...“John123”… “john1234” … ”homelander” … ”ilovehomelander”...”green”...”green123”...”password”... “frequency3” … “frequency123”... “freak+john”... “freakandjohn”... “ilovepink” …

She has her real name too, not “Freak”. Her real name, her given name, her birth name-- which he's sure is beautiful and suits her well. He just has no idea what it is. He has scavenged every computer file attached to Vought for years trying to find out even a hint. It has always come up dry. Without a lead. He has brutally assaulted security personnel over it.

“How fucking hard is it to find a fucking name? A registered supe name?” He would scream.

They would stammer, and quiver, and beg for their lives. Saying some Vought files are strictly kept on paper, so they could avoid the possibility of a cyber attack. That, of course, was never good enough for him.

“And you can’t even tell me the location of the fucking file, at least? Are you that fucking incompetent and mentally retarded? How the hell did you idiots even get a goddamn job here?”

Then he would raid storage rooms all round the city. Data centers from here to DC, which contain the most sensitive information. Of course, he’d threaten them too.

The worst part of it all, the only person he’d met that knew her name, was her. And of course, she never, ever told him. She taunted him with it. He begged like a dog salivating over raw meat.

He works at it for a few more hours until he goes for help. He must've just spelled something wrong, or is having some sort of brain fart.

When he enters the security room, the intern from the other day is already there. She had the night shift tonight, he's assuming. Although he hopes she isn’t on the clock as she snores onto the keyboard in front of her.

He clears his throat, looking around awkwardly--which does nothing. He then grabs a pen from next to her, and pokes her with it. Still nothing. He rolls his eyes, then claps so hard her hair flies back in a gust of wind. She jolts awake. Disoriented. She grabs her ears in pain.

“What the fuck?” She cries.

“Move.” Is all he says as he pushes her out of her swivel chair and takes her place. He hands her the computer from over his shoulder like it's a piece of paper. She grabs it reluctantly.

“What is this?” She asks, rubbing the side of her head to self-soothe.

“You have eyes. I need you to unlock it for me.” He mumbles, peeking down at his cuticles.

She inspects the computer, then sets it on the table next to him. She squats down onto her knees so she doesn't have to bend over. Grabbing a cord from the computer, she connects it and then waits for her main system to boot up.

“I need you to move a little, please…Sir.” She grimaces, moving over his shoulder to begin working on unlocking the computer.

He sighs, craning his neck over to the left so she could squeeze in. She begins to type, pulling up some system he doesn't want, or care to know about. She taps her hand impatiently on the mouse until-

“A-ha,” She says smiling, leaning back over to the laptop and typing in the information. “There you go.”

She hands the open laptop back to him. He inspects it with hesitance. Almost nervous to see the contents inside.

“What was it?” He asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“What was what?” She asks, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“The password.” He presses, glaring at her.

“Oh, um,” She pulls at her collar. Was it getting hot in there? “It was uh, fuc….”

He tilts his head towards her in a feigend attempt to understand what the fuck she just said.

“I’m sorry, in fucking english please.”

She swallows the lump in her throat.

“It was, uh, fuckyoujohn…nicetryasshole…” She grimaces.

He nods his head. Right. Of course it was.

---

When a maaa-aan loves a woman

Can't keep his mind on nothin' else

He'd trade the world

For the good thing he's found

The club had gotten significantly more packed as the night went on. The two of them are squished together, her back to his front. He nestles his face into her neck as he sings along to the songs blasting through the speakers. They are both wasted beyond belief. Ama and Asher had bought everyone a round of drinks after the long awaited makeout.

If she is bad, he can't see it

She can do no wrong

And turn his back on his best friend

If he puts her down

This was it. This is everything he needed to feel better. It was like he was floating. Her smell was intoxicating. He had never been this close to her skin before. It radiated a bouquet of roses and vanilla, even through the sweat and cheap liquor. He would never admit it to her, but he thinks he was pining for her since the moment he saw her. Like a mirage. It was one of those moments where the breath is stolen from your lungs. Where you’re taken aback by the sheer intensity of the moment.

When a man loves a woman

Spend his very last dime

And trying to hold on to what he needs

He'd give up all his comforts

And sleep out in the rain

If she said that's the way, it ought to be

When a man loves a woman

He begins to think in his foggy, mashed potato brain, that maybe, just maybe, everything he ever did, everything he ever experienced, was to lead him straight to her. That his time hidden away, chilled to the bone, was the universe crafting her especially for him. Like she was a hot summer day, and he was a piece of ice thawing out on the hot pavement. That he got to spend thirty years in hell to reflect and remember and regret, so he could be ready for her.

I give you everything I've got

Trying to hold on to your precious love

And baby baby please don't treat me bad

When a man loves a woman

Deep down in his soul

But he could just be drunk. Lovesick after what felt like eons of being starved of affection. Maybe he was more drunk off the scent of her than the liquor. He used to be able to hold it much better than this. But as she sways, and sings, and keeps her sweet feet planted on the ground, he can’t help but imagine that this was all he was ever made to do. Gee, when did he become such a sucker?

On the other hand, she definitely doesn’t have the capacity to even think in abbreviations, let alone full, complex, and poetic run on sentences about how they quite possibly had been made for each other. She was so drunk, she almost called him John a few times now. I mean, like father, like son, right?

Ah- there it is. There’s the thing she was so eager to stow away into the deepest parts of her brain the moment she even began to feel an inkling of attraction to this ancient man.

Her hand flies over her mouth- she thinks she’s going to be sick. What a way to ruin a great moment.

She goes stiff in his arms, he doesn’t notice at first until he looks down and sees her clawing at Ama.

Her eyes are wild, nervous. She hates being sick like this. Vomiting was no fun for someone who not only was a germaphobe, but experienced the five senses tenfold. A simple puke in the toilet became something of midevil torture when you considered the sights, the tastes, the smells-

Ugh, why the hell did she take that last shot?

Ama holds onto her shoulders, cocking an eyebrow, visibly confused. That is until she sees just how cartoonishly green she is. Her skin is completely rid of all colors. Her legs giving out on the dance floor.

Ama yanks over one of the other girls from the res and peels Freak out of Ben’s vice grip.

“What the fuck?” He shouts over the music, watching as the two girls float her out of the crowd.

He follows them out, tripping over Amas heels.

“I was in the middle of using that!” He shouts.

Ama pushes Freak and her friend into the bathroom, and whips her head around to him, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, well that can’t hold its liquor and is about to spew chunks all over the place. So I’d recommend going back with Asher.”

“What?” He asks, trying to push past her and into the ladies room. “Is she alright? Let me through.”

“Oh no no no,” she says, stepping in front of him. “You can happily wait out here.”

A club goer leaves from the bathroom, her flaming, flamboyant gay as her accessory. She looks Ben up and down, scoffing.

“Pervert.” She sneers.

Her gay friend, who is wearing more makeup than she is, glares at him even harder. Ben watches them in shock as they go back out onto the dance floor.

“Was that a girl or a guy?” He grimaces.

Ama cocks an eyebrow, scoffing.

“Please go listen to NPR, or put on CNN, I’m begging you. For the good of the world.” And with that she shuts the door in his face.

Ama walks over to the stall Freak is currently knelt in. Their friend holds back her hair as she dry heaves into the toilet.

“J-John-“ she groans incoherently.

Ama and the girl look at each other.

“Who is John?”

She puked again. Coming back up for air, “John- he’s John…”

BLEH

The two girls turn back to freak, cocking their eyebrows.

“Right…John…” Ama says, reaching down to pat her back.

Freak pulls herself away from the toilet, wiping her mouth off, trying to turn around to them.

“No j-john… he- Ben..”

BLEHHH

The girls grimace as she hurls into the toilet again.

“Freak, what about Ben?”

“He’s his dad…”

“Who is who’s dad? What about Ben’s dad?”

Freak grips on to the sides of the stall now, trying to bring herself up to her feet.

“H-homelander,” She grumbles.

Now that’s a name they know. And a name they know that she knows very well.

“Wait, Homelander is Ben’s dad? How would that even work?” Asks the other girl.

Ama glares at her, then turns back to Freak.

“What about Homelander? Does he know you’re here?!” Ama is worried now, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her towards her face.

She looks half asleep. She doesn’t answer, just smacks her lips and feels around for some sort of water source.

“What about Homelander??” Ama cries.

“He-“ She hiccups. “Homelander is Ben’s son.”

Amas eyes widen. She lets go of freaks shoulders and steps back, hitting the door of the stall.

“I forgot- I feel like a pervert.”

Ama rubs her head, “No, no, you’re not a pervert.”

She squats down to get onto freaks level.

“He- I don’t know. This may change things. How angry would Homelander be if he knew you were going to screw his dad?”

Freak smiles, her eyes glossy and heavy. It’s a goofy smile, one that makes Ama grimace. There’s no way this girl had only four drinks.

“Let’s just hope,” she hiccups. “That Ben doesn’t find out I screwed his son.”

And with that she passes out onto the grimy tile floor.

-----

Her computer is exactly what he thought it would be like, organized and hard to maneuver. He didn’t understand her filing system, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask the intern to figure out any more of her offensive passwords.

As he looked around in the files, he noticed that almost everything had been wiped clean. All the folders were empty, just leaving the titles of what could have possibly resided in them before. Bringing his eyes up to the top of the screen, he sees the history tab. He thinks there is no way she wouldn't have cleared it, but it's at least worth a try. He brings the cursor up, and selects.

Yahtzee.

She cleared everything else but this. Quite possibly the most valuable information of all. Her search history.

He begins to scroll down, taking note of the last visited websites. Wikipedia, and mapquest. He goes for the mapquest link first. It takes him to coordinates that look to be in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York. No buildings for miles. He sighs. Scrolling back up to the top of the screen, he then selects the wikipedia link. The color drains from his face. He looks like he's seen a ghost.

“Soldier Boy”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

----

A picturesque morning. The birds are chirping. The sun is shining in through the cracked windows. A stream crackles along in the distance. The smell of coffee brings her out of her slumber.

Ah, what a beautiful day.

She sits up slowly, stretching out her sore limbs. Cocking her head to look out the window, she is greeted by sun rays--only then to let out a rough groan, grabbing her head in pain.

Fuck, she thinks. What happened last night.

The memories flood back like a scrapbook. More like images than pieced together scenes. She can see hints of the night, the important parts obviously sticking out like a sore thumb.

She drops her hands into her lap, looking down at her palms with shame. Was that- is that blood? No, no. It’s lipstick. Okay, just lipstick.

Turning her head cautiously, she checks the other side of the bed. It wasn’t undone, so it obviously wasn't slept in. She nods, applauding herself for not doing anything too stupid. Peering down at her body, she notices she’d been dressed in her own pajamas. That’s also a good sign. She knows for a fact if Ben undressed her, he would've just put her into bed stark naked.

From what she can ponder through the ringing in her ears, and the relentless pounding of her head, she doesn’t think she regrets the acts of the night before. She knew the moment she stared into his eyes last night that she had obviously felt something for him the whole time. She wonders if it's the mutual trauma bond. Similar to the one she and John share. John…his son. Bleh, and there is the warranted nausea. She doesn’t even remember how the hell she got home.

Did Ben carry her? Did Ama and the girls drag her down the road by her hair? Judging by the Sinatra playing from the kitchen, there really is only one way to find out.

She stares at the door in deliberation, stretching one last time. Why is her heart racing? Taking a deep breath, she pulls herself out of bed and through her bedroom door.

He sits on the sofa, coffee in one hand, the paper in another. She squints her eyes at him, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry- are you reading the New York Times?” She gapes, cocking her eyebrow.

He turns back to her, taking a quick intake of breath. He smiles softly, setting his coffee down onto the table in front of him.

“I made coffee too.” He says smiling, like it was some huge feat

She looks around with her eyes, wondering what was so impressive about that. He notices her aloof response and sighs.

“I haven't made coffee in thirty years…and that one has a computer in it.” He crosses his arms.

He refers to the digital screen on the Keurig.

“Ohhhhh,” She says, grasping the importance. “It’s not a computer you idiot.”

“A small celebration for you and an all encompassing victory for me.” His ego was visibly bruised by her indifference.

She smiles at him softly. She thinks something would have been different. That maybe he would have lifted her off her feet when he saw her. Spinning her around and placing hundreds of little kisses all over her face. Enveloping her in their beautiful slow burn love story--unless last night was really just the heat of the moment. I mean, he was the player of the century after all. She looks down at him from her spot in the kitchen, and he meets her with the same eyes he always has. A sharp pain rings out in her chest, her heart sinking down into her stomach.

What a silly little girl, she thinks. A silly little girl to think something like that wouldve really meant something to him. The guy was out of his mind on any substance the facility had to offer last night. Nearly a gallon of liquor, for starters.

She looks down at her feet, then bends down to pick up one of her earrings she assumes fell out during her wrangle inside. She stares at it, turning it over in her hands. Her eyes are bruning. Are they- is she really welling up with fucking tears right now? Because she thinks some prehistoric asshole wouldn’t be willing to give her the time of day? She huffs, turning around and making her way into the bathroom.

“I’m taking a shower.” She calls as she closes the door behind her.

He sits on the couch with a confused expression.

She looks in the mirror. God she looks awful. Her makeup smeared, her eyebags sinking deep into the pits of the socket. Her cheeks hollowing out. She looks grotesque, and gross. Obviously someone who is planning on being gone within the next few weeks.

Right, she forgot about that. The activities with him from the night before distracting her from her imminent demise. A distraction, right. Thats all he is. She doesn’t need to be wasting her time on a man anyway. The future was what was really important. Her end goal being the greatest win of all. The most satisfying feat.

She steps in the shower, letting the warm water cascade down her hair and skin. She cups the water, bringing it up to her face, rinsing off the night before. She sticks her hand out of the shower, grabbing her toothbrush from the counter. She makes quick work of her teeth, also making sure to properly cleanse the impurities from her face and body. She sticks her arm back out to place to toothbrush back on the counter. A hand wraps around hers, grabbing the toothbrush. She jumps in response. How the hell did she not hear him come in there?

He takes the toothbrush and sets it back down on the counter. She rolls her eyes at him.

“A knock would be nic-” And before she can finish her sentence, he rips the shower curtain wide open.

She jumps again, her wet body fully exposed to him.

“Ben-” She begins, going to cover her breasts.

“Don’t,” He says, stepping one foot into the shower, fully clothed. She stammers, objectively confused. He shakes his head, looking down at her figure, and then back to her face, caressing her pretty cheeks. He then leans in. She's reluctant at first, her eyes staying wide open. She still has her body covered. But he takes his arm and wraps it around the small of her back and she's putty in his hands. She melts into his embrace as her eyes flutter closed. His mouth and hers mold together as the kiss becomes heated and sloppy. She can taste the fresh toothpaste from her mouth inside of his. The waster rushing in between them making it hot, wet, and messy. The water is hard, tasting vaguely of minerals. She doesn't care. She pulls back a little, but his mouth follows the flow of her face. She takes in a quick breath, gasping for air.

“Your clothes,” she starts, through broken peppered kisses all over her mouth and face.

“So take them off.” He mumbles like it was obvious.

This was a new one for her.

His clothes are heavy and fully drenched. She goes to lift off his skin tight shirt but struggles. He just reaches up and pulls at the collar, the whole thing ripping in two from the middle.

She looks down at his now exposed torso, brining a delicate hand up to rub up the ridges of his stomach. He looks down at her with gritted teeth. He hadn’t been touched like this in a very, very long time. He thinks he feels his skin burning. He sucks in air into his parted lips. Her mouth is agape, admiring his chiseled torso. She drags her hand up to his chest, her nails digging into his skin. Bens eyes roll back into his head. She’s not sure what to say.

“I,” she starts, chasing the rest of the sentence.

He looks down at her through heavy eyelids, bringing his hand up to her jaw and gripping it tightly. He holds onto her awed expression. Searching her face for any sort of reluctance. He sees nothing, although she is hard to read. Such an intense gleam of bewilderment.

He takes her hand from his chest and moves it down to the front of his pants. He lets out a deep groan. She looks up at him with the innocence of a girl gone untouched for years. She palms him gently, trying to elicit some sort of verbal response again. She enjoys the sounds he’s made. No sex had ever felt this intimate before.

She grips onto him harder, wrapping her nimble fingers up and around the button of his jeans. He watches as her hands make quick work of the top of his pants, beginning to drag them down the length of his legs. She follows them down to the floor of the shower, now ending up on her knees. She stares up at him through her eyelashes, staring directly at his rock solid package, begging to be set free.

He steps out of his pants, she grabs them and throws them out of the shower. They plop into a puddle on the floor. Her reaches down and grabs her chin again, pulling her up to meet his lips. He slips a strong arm behind one of her knees, hiking it up around his waist, never once breaking eye contact. Their lips graze, never touching. He reaches his hand behind her and grips her ass, kneading it like dough. She tilts her head back, letting out a small gasp. He leans into her neck, leaving a trail of nibbles from her clavicle all the way up to under her ear. She writhes under each one, her body struggling to stay upright. He doesn’t mind of course, this was light work for him. She was light as a feather.

He drags his other hand up her chest and around her supple breast. He toys with her nipple, pulling and twisting at it. He watches her pleased face from the crook of her neck. Then moving his mouth down and wrapping his lips on one of her stiff peaks. He sucks on it, nibbling slightly on the top. She watches him from her spot on the tiled wall. Her hand moving up and into his hair, scratching up and down his scalp. She swears he’s moaning more than she is. His eyes have gone white, making a new home in the back of his head.

He pulls back, now hiking both of her legs up and around his waist. He pins her against the tiled wall. Their noses brush, their lips grazing over each other. Her womb aches, begging to be filled. She had never felt this way with John.

“I’m rusty,” he whispers.

“If this is rusty I’m scared to see you well practiced.” She laughs breathlessly.

He smiles into her, kissing her gently.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Better now,” she coos.

He chuckles, planting a kiss on her cheek. His hands massage her ass, pulling apart the skin. Grazing his fingertips around the spots she so desperately wants him to fill.

“I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression this morning.” He starts.

She rolls her eyes, leaning her head back into the headboard.

“Is now really the time for small talk?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs again, moving one of his hands around to her front. He cups the soft skin of her pulsating heat. Teasing his digits around her swollen bud.

She moans, which in turn, elicits a big goofy smile from him.

“I didn’t realize you wanted me so bad.” He toys.

“I didn’t either,” she starts, arching her back off the wall. She gets in closer to his ear. “If only the V worked the same way on you. The only thing I could smell last night was how much I needed you.”

He groans into her neck, slowly inserting a long, thick finger into her dripping cunt.

“You feel that?” She asks.

“Fuck, do I?” He breathes.

He starts his slow assault on her pussy, rubbing his fingertips up and around inside of her. Massaging his augmented digits around until he can hear himself reaching the right spot. With her long, strung out moan, he can tell he’s gotten there.

From that, he inserts another, and begins to pulsate his hand in even, steady beats. She writhes against the wall, her stomach pushing into his. He kisses at her neck, biting and nipping, sure to leave a mark. All this talk of V has him forgetting how fragile she really was.

He pulls his hand out, and drops her legs. He steadies her as her feet slip around on the wet shower floor. He rips the curtain open. His hard cock standing at attention. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He motions his hand out for her to take.

She looks at it reluctantly, then he leads her into the bedroom.

“I’m soaking wet,” she starts, yelping as he picks her up and tosses her on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Mm, that’s an understatement.” He smirks, crawling up the bed and nestling himself between her thighs.

“What if I told you I need you inside me right now?” She asks, pleading with him to fill her up.

He smiles, leaning down to face her pretty slit.

“Then I’d tell you you’d get it right after I had myself a quick taste. I’m starving you know?” He rebuttles, only then licking a thick, wet stripe up her dripping hole.

She tosses her head back, mewling. Her legs going to clamp around his head. He grabs her knees, spreading them apart, and pinning them down to the bed.

“Keep these open.” He mumbles.

He dives in feverishly, like he hasn’t eaten in years, and all things considered, he hasn’t. He starts on her clit, drawing circles with his tongue. Going back and forth between kitten licks and long thick stripes. He makes audible slurping noises, lapping up her juices from her hole, only to spit back into it making it even sloppier.

She is writhing back and forth, shaking as she fights to close her legs. Not that she even wanted to. Her body and brain were disconnected in this moment. Her muscles constricting and spasming. Her altered touch sense doing a number on her reproductive organs.

She tries yanking him up by his hair. Obviously he doesn’t budge. Still going forward with his assault.

“Ben,” she moans, giving up on physcial methods. “Ben please, I want you.”

He mumbles what she thinks is a “you have me”, but she isn’t too sure. Either way he doesn’t stop.

“No,” she whines. “I want you inside of me, please. Need it so bad.”

He lets out a deep groan, rubbing his hard cock into the mattress. Doing everything he can to relieve the intense pressure.

He sticks his head back up, his face glistening with her sweet juices. She moans at the sight. Sticking her pointer finger up, she beckons him towards her. He crawls on top of her until he’s hovering over her mouth.

Their lips barely touch, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She wraps her hands around his torso, digging her nails deep in his back. He sucks in air through his teeth. He lifts her knees up and over the bend of his arms, pushing them down onto the mattress. She watches from under him as he lines his angry, red cock right up to her slick entrance.

He sucks air in through his teeth as he sheathes himself inside of her hot core. His eyes roll back into his head. Fuckin A, he thinks. He feels like an addict getting their crack fix. He feels like a caught fish being thrown back into water. This was it. This is everything. Now he remembers why he was such a fiend back in the day. When good pussy was his only kryptonite. But pussy never came like this, he thinks. Pussy with personality, and similarities to himself, and beautiful eyes, and darkness, and light, and human. For once something he dips his cock in really feels human.

“Fuck me,” he groans, beginning to move into her slowly.

Her mouth is wide open, nothing coming out but strangled grunts. She takes it like a champ. Savoring every second his big meaty cock massages her deep, tight ridges.

He watches her face in awe, bringing one of his hands up and brushing strands of hair away. He kisses her lips, keeping his mouth there as he begins to speed up, hiking her legs up higher, and plowing into her sopping wet pussy.

The room is loud. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the space. It’s hot, and humid. He swears the windows have begun to fog up. The two of them are ravenous. He tries to hold her down but she’s able to lift her hips up to meet his in a fit of impressive determination. This girl is a dream.

He readjusts, hiking her legs up onto his shoulders, admiring her smushed, fat pussy glistening under the flourecents. He watches himself disappear into her juicy folds, hugging onto him like a warm coat. Like a life vest. Squeezing him like a fucking blood pressure monitor.

He’s relentless now, pounding into her, and leaning down to suck her perky tits into his hot mouth. She gapes, her face contorted in pure ecstasy. No sounds leave her lips. Having the breath fucked out of her.

She regains it, letting out a shallow, strangled breath.

“Just like that,” she gasps. “Please, God, don’t stop.”

He smirks at her, wrapping a secure hand around her throat. Not squeezing, just simply for his own leverage. He goes harder, her poor legs definitely will be bruised by his fingertips tomorrow.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He shouts through gritted teeth.

His head flies back as he spills himself into her. She milks him for all he’s worth. He thrusts into her a few more times before collapsing on top of her chest out of pure exhaustion. He takes deep breaths, trying to catch his breath, which never happens to him. But this took everything. Something so pure and raw and good. A craving that had finally been satisfied. She rubs her hands into his scalp as he lays his head on her sweaty chest. He leaves cute, and quaint little kisses. This is it. He thinks. This is every reason to stay.

If only she felt the same way.

——

He stalks up to Ashley’s office, an unreadable look on his face. He barges into a meeting with her and some other Vought executive. Both of their heads flying up in surprise.

“Homelander, what a nice surprise.” She exclaims.

“Shut it, Ashley,” He presses, turning to the executive. “Get the fuck out of here.”

The executive looks at Ashley, and then scrambles away out the door. She watches him in horror as he leaves the room, the door slamming behind him. John doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the CIA had Soldier Boy's body?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

He gets closer, staring down at her with an intense gaze.

“I-,” she starts. He holds a hand out to stop her.

“And why the fuck didn’t you tell me that he had been fucking kidnapped from the bunker in upstate New York?”

She stumbles over her words as he glares at her. She can’t bare to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, first of all, we were under the impression that he had been eliminated.”

“Well, obviously he hadn’t been fucking elimated, Ashley!” He bellows.

She trembles, finally turning to face him. His nostrils are flared, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Let’s slow down. How do we even know he’s still alive? How do we know that he’s even escaped?” She searches for the right things to say. The way she knows to console him.

“Are you really fucking questioning me right now?” He scoffs.

She just stared up at him with big eyes, unsure how to continue.

He sighs, beginning to pace around the room. If Vought found out about Freaks' plan for the summer, they would surely kill her, which he didn’t want. Killing him? Obtaining Soldier Boy? That was fine. He’d happily fly him into the arms of the military and let them do whatever the fuck they wanted to him. But she was off limits. Anything that would happen to her would be in his own hands. He decides to not push it. Maybe just letting Ashley know about his disappearance was enough.

“You know what,” he lets out an ominous chuckle. “It’s fine. It’s fine! I’m sure he’s gotten himself out and is halfway through South America by this point.”

Ashley looks around, nodding her head. Anything he says goes. She'd rather keep her head than question what the fuck he had to say.

“Forget I even said anything.” And with that, he walks out of her office.

He’d take care of this himself.

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#homelander smut #homelander x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #homelander #soldier boy fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy the boys #jensen ackles x reader #soldier boy oneshot #frequency: a soldier boy story

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abarbaricyalp · 1 year

Text

Things To Crawl Home To

I have been trying to post this on AO3 since last night and keep getting errors, so tumblr is getting it first. I have been working on this since literally as soon as I walked out of the movie theater after seeing black widow. I actually thought I wouldn't finish it/post it. It's not as polished and deep as I wanted it (waited too long to really get into it) But every single thing I see about Thunderbolts makes me want to pick up my toys and go home so I figured I should post it before that movie ruins these characters I love and lets writers who don't care about them turn them into comedic caricatures. Lerato is the Widow who is always with Taskmaster. She's the one who tells her to smile in the first scene and who helps her in the last. Literally do not pay attention to the timeline. Roughly set in 2023/24 but genuinely do not think about it

Antonia barely registered Lerato rubbing her forearm. Her eyes were focused on the heavy door in front of her. She got the basic idea of it. Safety. Privacy. All of that stuff she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of since 2016. Not really. But for the fact that she’d be shutting that door behind herself, trapping herself inside with the man beyond it, she was even less fond of how thick and soundproof it was.

“It’s going to be fine,” Lerato said, bringing her hands up to either side of Antonia’s face. As always, she didn’t hesitate to press her palms to the scars. As always, Antonia was shocked. She tilted the smooth side of her face into Lerato’s hand and closed her eyes.

“I know. I’ve read his files. He is...reformed.”

“Just like you,” Lerato said, not for the first time. But Antonia wasn’t sure. She’d seen what they’d done to him. She’d seen him in action. It was different. It wasn’t just a gas and some sparkles that had cured him. He had trigger words. How the hell did someone take that out of a person’s brain?

“He wanted to see you,” Lerato reminded her. “He wants to help.”

“Or he wants to trap me somewhere.”

Lerato smiled wryly. “Then I’ll kick his ass. But I think he’s even more tired than you are. He’s not looking for a fight. Besides,” she smoothed her thumb over the cheekbone with the scars fondly, “Captain America’s in there with him right now. He can’t be that bad of a guy.”

“He is the Winter Soldier.”

“And you’re the Taskmaster. You’re both badasses. It’ll be okay.”

And Antonia knew that, and really did believe it. It was just easy to get swept up in anxieties and what-ifs now that she had the time and freedom to do so. As the Taskmaster, there was no time for hesitation or thought. Every movement was programmed into her. She’d never experience the curdling curl of anxiety in her gut before Romanoff deprogrammed everyone. She’d thought she’d been dying the first time it had happened. It had happened so often since, though, that she was very familiar with its fiery pain.

Lerato reached for the door and pulled it open before Antonia could find another argument to stall her hand. If they were different women, perhaps she could have curled her arms around Lerato’s waist, backed her up against the sturdy but plain walls, kissed her until they were both breathless and laughing, until the thought of the point of this evening was forgotten in lieu of getting back to their own apartment as quickly as possible. But they were not those kind of women, hadn’t been afforded that life and didn��t take it now that they had the opportunity. Though, the longer they spent in the real world and the more Antonia got to kiss and love Lerato in private, the more she thought she absolutely could become that woman.

She tore her eyes away from the soft spot behind Lerato’s ear, where she’d shiver like a north wind had blown through their room if Antonia kissed it, and through the yawning maw of the door. The apartment on the other side was comfortable, if sparse. A safe house, not a home. The Winter Soldier fidgeted behind the cream couch in the middle of the room and a handsome black man stood in front of him, holding a hand to his metal shoulder, thumb moving over where Antonia knew the prosthetic began.

Funny, she thought, of all the things she and the Soldier had in common, she hadn’t imagined being grounded by touch on scars would’ve been one of them.

The handsome black man--the Falcon, Captain America, Sam Wilson--looked over at her and Lerato and smiled genuinely. Antonia wondered where he found the energy to be so earnest all the time. She had watched film of him, but he was impossible to copy without wings of her own and the Red Room had never figured out how to replicate them. Flight was so engrained in him that he was entirely his own brand of hero, one even the Taskmaster couldn’t imitate.

“Behave,” Sam Wilson said and pressed the flat of his hand to the Soldier’s cheek in what could’ve been a sort of genial, male way if it hadn’t been so gentle. “Make friends.”

“You make friends,” the Soldier snapped back.

It was such a childish remark, it caught Antonia off guard. And Lerato too apparently, because she burst out in snickers. She’d almost contained them after a few seconds, but then the Soldier shot a grin over at her and she started all over again.

Logically, Antonia knew much had changed for the Soldier since his days with the Red Room. She still had not expected this. He was charming.

On film, the Soldier was horrifying. Efficient and cold and uncaring. Calculating and mechanical. She had watched days, weeks, months of film of the Soldier. He was the ideal killing machine. So much of the Taskmaster seemed to be built out of the Winter Soldier and the time the Red Room had had access to him.

Then he’d broken his conditioning. The Soldier had a physical form of conditioning, she knew that. Like the Red Room of days past. Cognitive rehabilitation. Electroshocks. A literal rewiring of the hardware. Then he’d gone off the grid in 2014. No new videos to watch until the UN and the ensuing chaos in 2016. She’d known from the first video in the news that the man responsible for the UN bombing was not the Winter Soldier. Everything about the deep fake was wrong.

The Soldier did not appear in many films afterwards. A few recordings from the airport in Germany and that was it before Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belenova destroyed the Red Room and the Widows’ programming. Her own programming.

She’d seen videos of him in the past few months. Still powerful, still calculating. But with so much more heart. He pulled his punches now. Took hits he didn’t need to to spare an unnecessary death count. It didn’t really make him any less efficient and she wasn’t sure anyone else would notice.

She supposed that heart and compassion, hidden as it was, should’ve been a clue towards the man standing before her in ridiculous combat boots, jeans, and a henley that looked to be about two sizes too small. She didn’t know why she expected him to be dressed for a fight. She hadn’t even come dressed for a fight.

(Well, there were a few holsters here and there, but she suspected the Soldier had his fair share of concealed weapons on him too)

His hair was still cut. She’d seen it in the videos that had surfaced after he and Captain America had dealt with the Flagsmashers, but it was jarring to see it in real life. He looked human again. Touchable, even if she knew better. She wondered if any of the severity had been removed from her own body. If someone saw her on the street and wouldn’t flinch away.

Lerato and Sam Wilson walked out of the room at the same time, Wilson pausing to let Lerato go first. His last look towards Barnes kept him from noticing the one Lerato and Antonia shared. The door closed behind them with a gentle click. The kind that came from a door designed to close softly being guided still by a hand that knew it. Barnes didn’t like loud noises.

The openness and boyish charm he’d just had with Sam Wilson in the room cooled off significantly as soon as the other man wasn’t around. Atonia felt her shoulders shrug in closer to her ears, arms pinching into her ribs.

“You know,” she eventually offered when Barnes had a few non-starters. “I thought you might’ve left a real calling card, being so old fashioned. A text seemed so modern.”

Finally, the anxious blanket he’d been pulling over his head fell away. He couldn’t fight down a grin and he looked up at her through his lashes, as boyish as ever. Antonia wondered if the Winter Soldier had ever been able to utilize this side of Barnes. Certainly never on camera, but other times, perhaps.

“Text messaging is so much faster than carrier pigeon,” he explained. “And I’ve grappled with enough Widows to know that I probably shouldn’t try to leave a card on their kitchen table.”

Antonia nodded, felt a warring of emotion in her chest at the thought of Natasha Romanoff. She knew Barnes knew Yelena as well, but she knew there was far more history between Barnes and Natasha. If he mentioned a Widow, he was likely talking about Natasha. “Why did you ask to meet me?” she asked.

“Because I’ve been where you are.” He seemed to gear up for a long monologue but then blanched suddenly. “Do you want to sit? Can I get you a drink? Sam made sure we have about every beverage you could ask for in the fridge.”

Antonia sat in a wingback reading chair nearest where she was standing. “I’m okay, thank you. Maybe later, if this takes long.”

Barnes’ mouth twisted in a fun, if deprecating, smirk. “I didn’t use to be long winded. Now, I can’t make any promises.”

Antonia was still learning to give herself space to use words. Measuring out each sentence. Filling in gaps. Taking up time.

This thought was not written on her face because her thoughts never were but Barnes must have recognized something in her hesitation to respond because he said, “Do you still feel like you’re wearing the mask sometimes?”

“Did you?” she asked without answering.

“I still do,” Barnes said simply. “But it’s never been real. Not one time since I got out.”

Antonia took a long breath and then nodded. “I know. That doesn’t make it any easier to ignore.”

Barnes sat down on the couch, though he was leaning so far forward he was practically halfway across the room. “I asked you to come here because I thought maybe talking about some of that might help. HYDRA and the Red Room evidently stole from each other all the time because we were eerily similar.”

“You worked with the Red Room,” Antonia pointed out.

Barnes inclined his head and let out a steady breath. “I did. I was a test for the Widows. One of the last ones.”

“You killed some.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

Antonia let the fact sting her straight through to the soul and back out the other side of her ribs. But she kept herself still. “And you’re an asshole.”

“Something we don’t have in common,” Barnes conceded. “What was the first thing you chose for yourself?”

Antonia thought about the chaos that proceeded Natasha’s destruction of the Red Room. Natasha had disappeared in the smoke, but Yelena had stayed, ushered everyone onto a jet and taken them to a safe house. She remembered the way the Widows had looked at her, cramped together in a confused mass. That first night, she’d still felt like an escaped animal. Lerato was the only person to come near her. Antonia had waited behind everyone else, hadn’t asked for extra or even minimum when supplies were being rationed out.

“I put on pajamas,” she said. “Soft shorts and a long-sleeve thermal top. I had never worn anything like that before. And I chose to stay in the same room as Lerato. We made a nest of blankets on the floor even though there were beds.”

“And how’s it felt to keep making decisions?”

“Overwhelming. I sometimes forget to. I expect people to make them for me until I remember that I do that now.” Just the other day, she had gone to make lunch and found the fridge nearly bare. Grocery shopping was proving particularly difficult to get the hang of.

Barnes nodded his understanding. “When I got out, I was immediately on my own. I didn’t know what to do or how best to do it. I wasted a lot of time trying to strategize as soon as I was safe enough to.”

“How did you get over it?” Because at this point, Antonia wasn’t sure she could ever relax the muscles coiled in her whole body.

“I got comfortable,” Barnes answered with a shrug. “I know that feels impossible. Hell, I thought it was too. But one day I realized the coffeeshop knew my order and the fish market remembered my name. Well, my alias, anyway. I closed my eyes in the shower. It just…became easier.”

“It just happened?” Antonia asked with a frown. That didn’t seem right. Everything else had been such a fight. But…she had fallen asleep with her head on Lerato’s shoulder while they watched TV a few nights ago and the sound of the elevator dinging didn’t make her jump anymore and she almost trusted herself enough to open the door for packages.

“You have to let it happen, but, yes,” Barnes agreed.

Antonia still did not fully believe it. It was one thing to be safe and comfortable around Lerato. It was another thing to feel it out in the world. She sat back in the seat, tried to make herself relax. Barnes was relaxed. She’d seen the way he tended to sprawl across whatever seat he was sat on. He always seemed to be in such easy control. The Taskmaster had been like that too. Not that the Taskmaster was ever allowed to sit, but the easy control part was familiar. Maybe it was the boots. She should do like Barnes and start wearing combat boots again.

“When did you decide to get back into the fight?” she asked. “How did you get comfortable with that?” Yelena was working again. Other heroes had filled in the blank spots left by the ‘originals.’ Other villains had appeared too. Antonia was…capable. She should be doing what she could to help. But the thought made her want to be sick every time it even flitted a little close to her mind.

Barnes’ mouth twisted a little. “I don’t think I really am that comfortable with it still. But I trust myself. There were a lot of people who helped me get there again.”

“The trigger words,” she interrupted and then flinched in expectation of the outburst from him.

But Barnes didn’t explode. He just nodded a little. “Yes. I suppose you have probably heard about the Sokovia Accords and the fight that followed. That was the first time I fought again, the first time I had to use…the more violent of my skills. Afterwards, when it was over and we were safe–on the run, but safe–I asked someone a lot smarter than me to undo my conditioning.”

“How?” Antonia pressed. “How did it happen? How were you sure?”

“I wasn’t,” Barnes admitted. “It was a long process. It involved me going back on the ice, a stasis. She was able to isolate neural pathways or something. Reroute them. Break connections. We went through round after round of that. Lots of monitoring. Lots of training. And one night, a friend took me far from everyone else and said all the trigger words and…nothing happened.”

Antonia looked down to her hands. She was still getting used to seeing her body instead of gloves and sleeves and weapons. She counted scars when she needed to think or when her thoughts were getting too far ahead of her. Today, even that distraction was failing her. She couldn’t keep her numbers straight.

“I’m worried the machine is still out there,” she admitted quietly. The port in the back of her head had been carefully removed, so even if the machine was found or recreated, no one could ever plug her back in, like she was some robot. But the anxiety persisted. She woke up in a cold sweat more nights than not with the phantom sensation of orders flooding into her body. “I don't ever want to do what someone else tells me to again.”

“I know,” Barnes agreed. “I can’t promise you that you won’t have to. I don’t know what your future holds. But I know if you keep yourself surrounded by people who care about you, as scary as that is, you’re going to be a lot safer than if you isolate yourself.”

Antonia considered that. This was something she supposed she knew and had partially accepted. There were not many people in her corner. Lerato primarily. But Yelena was around. A friend-not-friend of Yelena’s as well. Occasionally some of the other Widows appeared, seeking shelter or company. She would not consider them confidants, but perhaps one day.

“Hey, you and your friend are just kids,” Barnes added. “You don’t have to start the fight again if you don’t want to.”

Antonia grimaced. “There are those who are younger. I was younger and Lerato even younger than me.” And they needed help. Others had tried to step in, to find all the operatives out in the world, but it was slow going and Antonia wasn’t sure who was still working on it. Lerato wanted to. Antonia knew she did, which fueled her as much as it terrified her.

“Do you worry you rely too much on him? On Captain America?” she asked quietly. She wasn’t demure; that kind of trait hadn’t come with her freedom and anxiety. She didn’t look up at him from under her lashes. But her glances were quick and shallow. Like he might see too much if she kept her eyes on him.

Barnes let out some kind of huff. She heard him sit back in the couch. “All the time,” he admitted. “I tried to stay away once, after the Battle of Earth and all of that. It didn’t work out well for us.”

“Yes, I can tell,” she agreed and let him scoff out a laugh.

“Sam and I are partners,” he said. “All the way through. Partners need to be able to lean on each other. If he can’t trust me to ask him for help, that’s a core foundation block that’s going to send the rest of our relationship tumbling down. Imagine if I didn’t tell him I’d been hurt in a fight and just passed out before I could get to a rendezvous or I wasn’t there to have his back. It’s no different for…emotional things.”

Even with his very eloquent words, it sounded like he was having to wrench each thought out of his chest. So Antonia was pretty sure this was something he still struggled with. And if he, who was so put-back-together and had such a strong partner, could struggle with it, what hope was there for her?

“Your friend…Lerato, right?” Barnes offered. “I’m sure she wants to be there for you. And I’m sure you’re there for her too. You both need both sides of that relationship. I promise you, you need both sides.”

“And the nightmares?” she asked. For a brief moment, her throat almost closed fully, but there was a sudden rush of heat through her body that had her voice keeping steady, getting a little louder. These moments had been happening more and more recently. Lerato said it was called a personality, which always made Antonia roll her eyes. But it was kind of a nice thought.

Barnes sighed. “I can’t tell you anything about those. If you figure it out, you’ll have to track me down and let me know.”

Antonia mimicked his sigh and, judging by the way his eyes narrowed a little in amusement, he caught on that she’d done so on purpose. She sat back in the chair, keeping her shoulders back, jaw tilted a little. The amusement on Barnes’ face lit up further. “Do you follow orders?”

He shrugged. “Depends on who’s giving them and why.”

“And you’re comfortable enough to trust yourself making those decisions?”

“Well, usually it’s Sam telling me what to do, so that’s not so bad. And when other people do it…yeah, I’m pretty comfortable making decisions for myself.”

Antonia considered this. “And you have your own life the rest of the time?”

“I do,” he agreed. “Which helps me with the other shit. Something to hold onto.”

The thought was tantalizing. Antonia wasn’t foolish. There was no room in her life to be. She knew eventually someone would hand her that damn mask again and point her to a fight. But Barnes was right. There was more freedom here. She could dig her heels in now. She could turn around and walk the other way. No one was programming her anymore.

She stood, all on her own volition, and offered her hand out to Barnes. If he was surprised, he hid it well. He stood as well and shook her hand.

“Listen, I’m always around, okay? I’m no therapist and I’m definitely not Sam, but I know I wish I’d had someone who went through the shit I did, alright? Maybe I’ll have an answer or commiseration.”

Antonia nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. This was…helpful.”

Barnes snorted and waved his hand in a sort of ‘lay it on me’ kind of way. But Antonia had nothing else to add. “Hey, I’m also around for sparring, yeah?” he added. “Actually, I’m asking you to stop by the gym sometime. I’d love to actually fight someone who can keep up.”

Antonia’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think you can keep up with me, old man,” she said. Another surprised laugh erupted from Barnes. She continued over him with her own slow-spreading grin. “No, you’re the old model. You wouldn’t believe what I could do.”

It kept Barnes laughing as he passed her to pull open the door. “Listen, I’ve heard that a thousand times, alright? There’s nothing like the original make. KO in two minutes tops.”

“Yes,” Atonia agreed. “And I will call Captain America to come wake you up afterwards.”

Wilson, across the room, did a commendable job of not looking like he was watching them or listening in. But Lerato also hadn’t looked away from what was, evidently, a very intense game of ping pong. On habit, she cataloged Wilson’s movements, the swings he preferred and his reaction times, the places his eyes darted first. She thought about telling Lerato where to place the ball to get a point, but they weren’t close enough to do so without getting caught and not getting caught was most of the fun.

“Thank you,” she said again to Barnes. “I will call. But not for therapy. You are just like the internet to me.”

Barnes chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“He’s right about as often as people on the internet are too,” Wilson called, breaking the flimsy illusion that he wasn’t listening in. Somehow, this did not interrupt the ping pong game.

“He is weak low on the dominant side,” Antonia told Lerato.

Lerato unleashed a particularly vicious spin on the ball that had it bouncing just on the other side of the net and spinning away from the table. It hit the wall hard enough to clatter back onto the game table, but Wilson had already straightened himself up with a huff of disappointment.

“I knew that,” Lerato answered, straightening herself so she could turn and grin at Antonia. “But it was good practice.”

Barnes barked out another laugh and leaned against an ornate table that seemed to have no use other than to hold him up. “You two better leave before we start another cold war. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the other side of Sam’s side-eye.”

Wilson glared at him, indeed from the side of his eye. “I do not have a side-eye.”

Barnes just raised an eyebrow at him as Antonia and Lerato let themselves out from the long hallway.

“How did it go?” Lerato asked when the soundproof doors were shut behind them. Antonia had already scanned for electronic devices, though she now felt she knew Barnes enough to know he wouldn’t keep any near him either.

“It was not bad,” Antonia admitted. She would not say the worrying had been for naught. She’d gone in cautious and she thought that helped them establish a baseline with each other.

“He didn’t turn into a giant monster and try to eat you?” Lerato teased.

“Would you have preferred that?”

“It would have made the afternoon interesting.”

As Antonia swept Lerato to the side, holding her close as they fell against a bare wall, Lerato laughed joyously and clung onto her. Even if there was a moment she almost tried to trip Antonia up.

“You would sacrifice me for an interesting afternoon?” Antonia asked in a low, grinning growl.

“Only because I know you’d have no problem holding your own.” Lerato beamed at her. Even the sun wouldn't have been able to compete.

“I’m the bait and the entertainment,” she surmised.

Lerato curled Antonia’s ponytail around two fingers, her others brushing Antonia’s neck. “If I say yes, will you show me?”

Antonia made a noise of agreement deep in the back of her throat and then kissed Lerato until all the rest of the anxiety had escaped her mind. This right here was a future worth having.

#antonia dreykov #bucky barnes #black widow #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #taskmaster marvel #taskmaster

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pumpumdemsugah · 9 months

Note

How did you stop being shy and how old were you? I think you mentioned being shy in the past. I’m 22 and I recently started a job after graduating uni and I feel like my shyness has gotten worse. It’s something I’ve had to work on for many years so it’s super disheartening lol. I wish I could do so many things, but I’m so scared all the time!!!

Hi!!

I used to be shy. I think it's helpful to see social skills like a muscle. Some people are the social equivalent being naturally fast and strong but everyone can get faster and stronger : ) I feel like around age 17 to 20 I wasn't shy anymore. I was still odd at 17 but I was social , around 20 I was fearless

I started working on it around age 13/14 and didnt have the internet to research anything. I got tired of being marked absent because the teachers couldn't hear my voice lol so my first task to myself was to speak louder for the register. I'd find small things like that, that I did everyday to work on. Sometimes I push my pen or pencil off my table to force myself to feel comfortable getting up out of my seat , standing up and picking up my pen. Genuinely had to teach myself how to stand up normal style lol and it worked That helped me feel less watched because It didn't feel unsafe to do anymore. You can break down whatever you want to improve into the smallest chunks. I would sometimes ask to use the toilet to practice walking up and in front of my class without feeling nervous. If I was feeling like a daredevil I'd stand up, walk up to the teacher desk and ask. Id make sure not to walk too fast before I walk into shit, no slouching and relax my arms at the side of my body. Even now, if I feel nervous I run through this so my body is relaxed so my brain is relaxed.

If I found myself starting to get nervous, I'd find a reason to go to the toilet or walk somewhere so I didn't help like I was stuck in X place. It helps to make places not feel like it's out of bounds. For me, noticing when I'd start to feel nervous and soothing myself then instead of letting that feeling get so giant I feel out of my dept helped. Generally that's a good thing to practice shy or not. At my current job I turned down going to lunch with my coworkers because it was loud as hell and I told them " sorry it's too loud and It's going to make my head feel like mashed potatoes" and they laughed, one agreed " yeah it's very loud" and they left. I said that to them because it was true lol, I didn't sleep and noise would send me over the edge. Being honest about why I don't want to do something in a light way was something I found out early on I'm very comfortable with saying

Ohh this got long lol

If I found myself getting nervous I'd force myself to fix my posture and stretch. My main thing was, learning to feel comfortable existing in my body in a space and the few times I spoke, speaking loud enough. Also I'd observe the things I didn't feel anxious or dumb doing, and volunteer as much as possible doing those things hoping the skills I learned there would leak. I loved PE so I'd let myself go for it with PE and that's helped me feel more settled in my body.

It helps to wear comfortable clothes and practice things you might want to say to someone or questions you think someone will ask you. Sometimes having something to play with to direct my nervous energy helped so rubber bands around my wrist, a tag in my pocket etc

The great thing about work is it's a nice structured environment you go to all the time ( like school) where you can find little challenges to give yourself to do everyday. It gives you a clear benchmark where you can feel proud X is easier for you. Every little victory helps

Learning to not be embarrassed or at least let on I was embarrassed when I made a mistake. Even if I knew I'd think about it for days, Id force myself to give a short simple answer and to remember to breathe slowly. It's worth coming up with a plan for when you feel anxious and what you will do to soothe yourself to build up your tolerance for being uncomfortable and the more you do that then things that were uncomfortable becomes like nothing

I worked on tolerance building, soothing strategies and a couple of responses and questions I could ask. I think I learned to hold a conversation in my late teens lol it didn't occur to me that people are generally sort of curious, even about very boring shit.

Also, figuring out how to let someone leave a conversation or how you can leave a conversation. When I didn't know how to talk to someone and I realised my nervousness was killing the vibe, I worked on some things I could say to let people leave a convo or leaving the convo myself

I sort of figured alot of this out through trail and error. I was running field experiments and I was the experiment lol. Seeing it like that made it mentally easier to deal with. It was easier to accept, that thing I thought would work didn't than telling myself off for being bad at talking to others. It felt removed from a personal judgement of me which helped me feel less embarrassed when I was being weird. Sometimes even if you're struggling with being in a situation, just finding somewhere to sit and exist there without feeling uncomfortable is an important thing to practise while you slowly learn to talk to people. Always give yourself options so you don't feel like a trapped animal in really hard social situations

It's worth paying attention to what people say and what questions very outgoing people ask to understand what makes a nice convo, it's often very similar questions until people find a nice sweet spot and things just flow because they hit a shared interest and even if that doesn't happen, small talk is nice. Learning to love dumb pointless yapping about the weather is a great thing to practice. The elderly love a chat, go to your local library and talk to an old person lol

There are channels on YouTube about learning to talk to people but you will run into manosphere content tho and I think it helps to build up your tolerance for discomfort and embarrassment first. Small discomfort and embarrassment first. No need to overwhelm yourself.

Not all convos will be good. Some will be short and sometimes you don't feel like talking. You don't get graded for saying weird freak shit to people lol and people will still talk to you again if you say something very dumb

#anonymous #asks

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lizard-shifter-noms · 5 months

Text

Still Subject To Change Chapter 11 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

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My brain decided to toss away any possible answer I could have given away at the sight of this…man? But luckily Rikaad had an idea how to respond.

“Alright that’s very impressive, are you the one that lives here? If so we are sorry to intrude we do not mean to and will leave as soon as we figure out the direction we need to go in”

Oakley cocked his head to the side and I noticed his eyes were a piercing shade of yellow, like those of a hawk and I couldn’t help but feel uneasy looking into them.

“Where are you going? I might know the way, and you are welcome to stay for a bit especially since it’s been forever that i have talked to someone who didn’t throw stuff at me”

He was right, he lived here after all and knew the area better than us so just asking might be the easiest way and the invitation didn’t sound too bad either.

But we did not know this guy, he could be dangerous and thus far we hadn’t even seen what the entirety of him looked like.

I noticed that his gaze had suddenly fallen onto the cursed bracelet on my arm and was watching it intensely with his striking yellow eyes.

“Ohh you found it! I’ve been looking everywhere for this trinket after someone stole it a few years ago!”

He suddenly pushed the cloak behind him and swooped out of the tree and I could see that he did not have arms, instead there was a pair of leathery wings in the same color as his skin flapping to keep him in the air.

Having something akin to a giant bat suddenly swan diving to my face I instinctively put my arms up to shield myself.

For a moment nothing happened but suddenly I could feel the bracelet being stripped away, but no pain, it seemed that he had managed to get it off somehow without hurting me.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL”

He had flown to sit on the tall stump, the bracelet was held in his tail by wrapping it around the trinket and he perched there like a content Magpie.

It took a few more seconds for his words to register in my brain but before I could say anything the others had already responded, with Arthur shouting loudly.

“YOU MEAN THAT’S YOURS?”

And Robin making a worried face while Rikaad seemed to calculate the best way to not fuck things up.

But Arthur had a point, if it was his he could probably fix the curse! I had expected to shrink as soon as the bracelet was off but that wasn’t the case apparently.

I Wasn’t sure if he actually knew how to lift the curse, But asking if he could help wouldn’t hurt.

“If that is yours” I pointed at the trinket “can you fix this curse then?”

He seemed confused at my question so I decided to elaborate.

“This thing turned me into a giant and i would like to be normal again”

For a moment he seemed to actually listen before I heard a strange chattering sound and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was him laughing.

“HEKHEKHEKHEK, that’s not a curse! It works as intended! It’s not my fault you don’t know how to use it! Which is weird, seeing as you are Ardua you should know.”

I understood exactly nothing of what he had just said, what did he mean this wasn’t a curse?

He had called me an Ardua twice now, whatever that meant, and why should I know how to use it? I’ve never seen such a thing before this month.

Apparently Robin agreed with my thinking as he asked.

“What’s an Ardua? And what do you mean it’s not a curse?”

I had no idea what that word meant, but if it was just another word for Bastard I would punch something, preferably Oakley.

Oakley however just stared at me with an incredulous expression, like he couldn’t believe that I had absolutely zero idea what he was talking about.

“You ARE Ardua how do you not know? If you weren’t the bracelet would have killed you the moment you put it on your arm”

Well that was not reassuring at all, and I still had no idea what he was talking about aside from apparently being a specific race of elf? Well half elf.

The others looked at me weirdly and I grimaced at them, as if I Had any idea what was going on! I didn’t understand jackshit either.

The birdlike man once again cocked his head to the side and then walked over the top of the stump where he stood sidewards like gravity didn’t really affect him.

Weird fucker but i wanted answers so i was at least going to listen for now.

“Since apparently I know nothing about this, could you maybe explain it? I’m sick of not knowing what the fuck is going on with me right now”

He turned his head weirdly and winked me closer.

I very reluctantly got slowly closer glancing back at my fellow travelers who also looked a bit mistrusting, a tiny bit curious but still wary.

“Hold out your hand i’m going to put the bracelet back and show you”

I wasn’t sure whether i trusted him or not but so far he hadn’t hurt any of us and he seemed to know something about it so it might be my chance to go back to normal.

“Wait just one second”

Ignoring his confused gaze I scratched all over the area where the Trinket had been as I wasn’t able to do that for some time now and it had started to get annoying.

Slowly holding my arm out he put the Bracelet back over my wrist where it once again shrank until it fit perfectly against my skin.

For a few seconds nothing happened then Oakley swiped his tail over the gems and I suddenly had the feeling of falling forward.

Trying to catch myself I put my hands out in front of me just as I landed on the grass, but something was wrong.

Somehow I did not feel bipedal anymore, and looking back to my human companions I could see various stages of shock and disbelief on their faces.

There was silence for a few seconds before Robin shouted with gleaming eyes.

“KITTY!”

What.

Looking down on myself I could see paws where my hands should be, and even worse was that they were covered in green fur and looking at my back showed that there was even more fur on my new now quadrupedal form with a tail swishing behind it.

What. The. Fuck.

There even were some plants growing on my fur covered back which made even less sense.

“Oakley what did you do??? Turn me back! This isn’t normal”

The man in question just stared at me with a huge grin on his face and started flapping around me like an oversized bat.

“Come on, just because you didn’t know anything about it doesn’t mean it’s not normal, but i’m not really surprised you know nothing about it i had believed the Ardua to be extinct”

I could see out of the corner of my eye that Rikaad had sent Arthur and Robin to get a bit away and was now aiming his crossbow at the flying form of Oakley.

However with the way he was flying it was impossible to get a clear shot, at least not without also hitting me.

“I don’t care! I just want things to go back to normal! Give me my human form back!”

Though, did I REALLY want things to go back to normal?

After all, the time I had been a giant I had been the least lonely since basically forever.

But i still preferred having hands as the lack of them made it difficult to catch the flying fucker and swiping with paws just wasn’t working well.

So not being able to use my hands I instead snapped at him with my teeth missing him barely and causing him to cackle again.

“HEKHEKHEKHEK see? You already fit your new form! Let’s see if you can catch me!”

He was now flying even faster around me and acting like an annoying bat so I snapped at him again, making my teeth clack against each other.

“rrrRRRRRrrrrr get down here you fucker!”

He was flying higher so I tried to jump but missed again, temporarily forgetting about the humans I had come with as I tried to get Oakley out of the sky.

Surprisingly the four legged form wasn’t that hard to control and I could move just as well as when I had been a half human half elf.

At some point Oakley landed on the tree stump and stood sideways on the wood like gravity did not bother him at all, two of his toes bent back to grip the bark.

He kept out of reach from Rikaads crossbow too, smart fucker.

“Look, you are the only one that thinks this is funny but I hate it! Can you please turn me back? This sucks and i miss having thumbs”

Oakley stopped grinning and walked down sidewards the length of the stump reminding me of how crabs moved.

This guy just got weirder and weirder but at least he seemed done with his bullshit for now as he moved near the bracelet again.

For the first time I could really see him up close and noticed that his wings had three fingers on top with only two being long and having a membrane for flying as well as that his knees were bent with what seemed to be an elongated ankle.

He Swiped his tail over the bracelet and I had once again the feeling of falling, but only this time I really did fall, on my face.

Due to being a four legged creature before I fell face first into the dirt, but now I was human sized again.

Finally! I was back to normal! And looking up at Oakley he had cocked his head again, probably wondering why I was still lying on the floor.

“I gotta teach you how to use that thing, this is just stupid how come you don’t know anything about it?”

Oakleys weird energetic behavior was gone for a moment but before I could respond anything I was yanked off the ground into a hug, startling me badly as I wasn’t used to interacting with something my size anymore.

My brain froze up for a moment before I registered a red mop of messy hair next to my face burying into my shoulder.

The one that had yanked me into a hug was Robin and I hugged back after a few seconds, still a bit out of the loop.

I was touching someone my own size! This was awesome!

And Robin interacting with me like this meant that we were friends, right?

I hadn’t really allowed myself to consider the three humans as friends before, I had been a Giant after all and as such couldn’t go near any city ever again.

Being back at human size i noticed that Everything looked weird now, like it was too big as i had gotten used to everything being smaller than me but i couldn’t complain.

I was back to normal after what felt like the longest week and a half or so of my life and I was able to actually do mundane stuff again!

Someone patted my back and tried to yank both me and Robin into a standing position and I had to let go to avoid falling over again.

Looking directly and face to face into Arthur’s eyes was weird, and awkward considering what had happened three days before so I turned around to talk to Robin only to see Rikaad.

He was taller than me now.

And I had definitely been right in being scared of him.

He was rather buff, not overtly so that it would restrict his range of motion but I was sure he could throw me pretty far.

Also looking up at someone was strange and seeing those icy gray eyes up close did not make it better as they seemed even more intimidating now.

“Are you alright? That was… weird, especially that green creature you turned into for a bit”

At least Rikaad was friendly even now but I agreed that it was weird.

“I’m fine, really it’s just weird being small again everything seems… bigger”

It was a lame answer, I knew that but my mind was still reeling with the fact that I was back to normal so I didn’t care if my answers made sense.

“How did you turn into that green thing? I’ve never seen such a thing before”

Arthur had a point, apparently this weird bracelet could do more than turn me into a giant and Oakley knew how, I probably should ask him how and besides, it was his anyway and I should give it back.

“Can you turn into the green kitty again? It looked soft”

I looked at Robin confusedly, why would he call that green beast i had temporarily become a kitty?.

“What on that green thing looked like a cat to you???”

“It had paws and a fuzzy tail, also your ears flicked funnily”

That wasn’t really enough reason to call it a ‘kitty’ though, but as long as he wasn’t scared of it I wouldn’t correct him.

And it was probably time to give the trinket back to Oakley, he’d be glad to have it back, After all, it had been stolen for long enough that the corpse of the thief had rotted to the bones.

“I should probably give this back to Oakley now, it’s his after all”

I tapped the metal accessory to show what I meant.

Rikaad leaned over, ending up sort of looming over us and I tried not to be bothered by the fact that I wasn’t the tallest anymore.

“He did mention that it belongs to him, so i Believe returning it to its rightful owner is the best thing to do”

I nodded at them and turned to walk over to Oakley who was once again standing Sidewards on the stump.

This man did not care for Gravity huh.

Ignoring that he seemed to take offense to the existence of gravity, I went over to him again to return the trinket to its owner.

Glancing back for a second the few meters I had already walked, I saw Arthur ruffling Robin’s ginger locks and Rikaad smiling at them.

I wondered if I could have such things too?

I was back to normal now, but my normal still contained the fact that I was a Bastard and not wanted in any of the Kingdoms.

Ignoring those thoughts for now I held the arm with the Bracelet out to Oakley, I still didn’t know how to get it off myself after all and needed his help to get it off my wrist.

He reached for it but then seemed to have a different idea.

“Keep it”

I was baffled, he’d just give me an enchanted…whatever…Bracelet? But he said that it was his.

Why would he give it to me now? A Bastard of all things.

Apparently my stare showed my confusion as he smiled at me.

“I cant use it, if i where to put it on i would die from incompatible magics, also it doesn’t fit over my wings, and i really don’t know how i would even wear it so giving it to the only one i’ve ever seen that actually CAN use it is the best decision here”

I stared numbly at the weird… fae? Whatever he was he seemed to be an alright guy if a bit of an annoyance at times.

But I did need to know how to use it, even if it was an awesome gift it would be useless if I didn’t know how it worked.

“Thank you! But uhh, how do I use it? You moved too fast to see what you did so can you show me?”

He stood up straighter adding at least an inch to his height and tilted his head to the left before nodding.

“Ah yes it would be smart if you actually knew how to use it, after all it won’t be of much help if you don't”

He walked a few steps away from the stump, probably to avoid damaging it should I grow and I followed suit, glancing behind me for a second.

The Humans were talking among themselves but repeatedly looking over at me, probably out of concern and I gave them a thumbs up to signify that all was well before turning back to Oakley.

“So, first off that’s not a curse but rather a genetically tied Enchantment for Beings that are called Ardua, and you can only use it if you are a descendant from one of the original otherwise you just die”

“So I could have died back then??? Why would anyone design it like this???”

He shrugged.

“Defense mechanism is my best guess but i’m not all knowing, so let’s continue”

I nodded numbly, A defense mechanism did make sense so he was probably right.

“I have never seen an Ardua in person before, only drawings in various scriptures some of which were as detailed as having entire biological sketches but that’s not important, well unless you need a doctor because your organs are kinda nonsense to humans”

Well I was very aware of that.

“I get what you mean i know my anatomy is kinda fucked, besides i cant go to any human doctor anyway they’d kill me”

He looked a bit concerned but continued anyway.

“That’s horrible but moving on to the matter at hand, to change between form you should take a good look at the embedded gems”

Holding my arm up to my face to inspect the gems closer, The only thing I could see for now were the five inlaid green gems.

I didn’t even know what type of gemstone they were let alone how they would help me shift into a giant or that green thing Oakley had called an Ardua.

The five gems were spaced rather evenly with three forming a single line down between the ornaments from top to bottom and two more stuck between even more of the big ornament to the sides.

I didn’t really see what I was supposed to do, press them like buttons?

Trying that didn’t work so I looked back at Oakley for help.

“You have to turn the gems, like a gear and the direction decides what form you are going to take”

He put his hands on the magic trinket and slowly turned the darkest green gem at the top of the three row counterclockwise.

Before I could react I had grown back into a Giant at about the same speed he had turned the Gem.

“YO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

Looking behind me I could see my human companions looking confused and Arthur had apparently been the one that shouted as his hands were still half raised to form a speaker over his mouth.

“I’m fine! Oakley is showing me how this thing works, don’t worry!”

I waved the arm with the bracelet to show what I meant.

They seemed to calm down a bit at that and went back to listen to whatever Robin was Rambling about, frequently turning to check on me.

Turning my attention back to Oakley i Bent down so he could reach the Bracelet again.

“Try turning it in the opposite direction as long as it’s the same gem you are fine”

Taking his advice I slowly turned the dark green gem in a clockwise rotation until I couldn’t turn it any further, and after about a second shrank again to my normal height.

“Oh this is actually pretty awesome! How do I turn into the green thing?”

A huge smile had plastered onto Oakleys face and I could see two sharp fangs poking out, even longer and sharper than mine.

“You turn the other one, the one at the bottom, it works just like the top one”

That made sense, but what function did the other gems have?

“What do the other gems do? Don’t tell me this thing has MORE forms to turn into”

“No it doesn’t have more forms than that, the two gems on the sides are for stabilization if i read correctly and the Rhombus shaped one should be the one that draws in power from the environment so it is usable”

Man, this guy knew a lot about this even if he had said that he’d never seen one in person.

Deciding not to question it for my own sanity I tested the Ardua form out again by turning the lighter green gem on the bottom.

After a second I was back in the Four legged form of the Green beast that Robin had called a Kitty.

The form itself wasn’t so bad actually, i felt like i suddenly had more muscles, probably to support the Quadrupedal form.

Now that I had a bit more time to inspect this form, I gave myself a lookover.

I had sturdy legs that were like everything else covered in thick green fur, paws that had sharp looking white claws and i knew i had to be careful with those as well as a fuzzy tail with a tuft of lighter green fur at the end and for whatever reason there were literal plants growing on my back.

The plants were mainly Daisies and Dandelions but had a few violets and lots of other plants strewn in, most of which I recognized as edible or at least not poisonous.

“Why do i have-”

“ it’s earth element magic so i’m not surprised about the plants, It’s even funnier when you realize that it lets you photosynthesize like one too”

“Photo-what?“

The word seemed familiar, Like Id heard it before, Then it clicked.

"Wait, you mean because I’m like a plant I don’t need to eat? That would explain why i never felt hungry”

He nodded, affirming my thoughts and I had to admit never having to eat was absolutely great! I wouldn’t have to steal food ever again!

“Just remember to drink enough, don’t want you drying out do we?”

I nodded as things made a lot more sense now where before that was only confusion.

And now I know how to use it! That was awesome! It meant that I could switch between forms whenever I wanted! I could-

I still couldn’t go back to Kamerasca.

It was only logical really, I was still a bastard and being able to turn into a green monster wouldn’t help to show that I was as much of a person as everyone else there.

I doubted that the three humans I had befriended could do anything about it as they weren’t even full Guards yet.

“Oi what’s got you down so suddenly?”

Oakley had apparently sensed that something was wrong as he tilted his head again reminding me of a bird.

“I just remembered that I can’t really go back to…. any Kingdom really, I’m still an unwanted bastard and they would probably kill me on sight if not worse, but i don’t want to roam the woods like some mindless beast either”

Oakley wasn’t human either so he would probably understand, After all, he lived all the way out here on the mountain.

“Ah I see, yeah humans do that, they don’t understand something and immediately stamp it as a bad thing that has to get rid off, i’ve seen it countless times so if that’s the problem you could live here? Some company would be nice”

I looked around the clearing that he lived in, it was a nice place and he had an actual house so I wouldn’t have to sleep in a cave or something and it was protected by the woods and mountainside.

a good place really.

But I couldn’t leave the humans to go back on their own, what if more beasts appeared? So far the manticores hadn’t been that hard to get rid off, I had just kicked them across the map but they were smaller than most monsters so defending themselves was going to be a challenge.

Oakleys offer was good, very good even but I had promised to get them back so I would do that.

I could still come back here later after I had brought them to Kamerasca.

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#sstc #lizards writing #giant/tiny #extreme cuddling #g/t story #vore story #Magic #Barmea #Ardua #nsx vore

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where-is-francis · 2 years

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𝙏𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 —♡-> 𝘼𝙧𝙜𝙮𝙡𝙚

Before You Interact — Rules Of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Part of my Valentine’s Day 2023 blurb series

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: They/Them

𝘼/𝙉: Yes, this is late. However, I’m just glad it’s done. Hopefully it’s not TOO bad — the burnout is real. That’s my fault though, I just wanted to write for everybody for the holiday.

𝙏𝙒: References to weed (it’s Argyle man), Argyle saying “man” and “dude” but more as a term of endearment, ending could be read as referencing to smut but it’s not explicitly mentioned, I think that’s it.

It was currently February 14th and your one and only, your love, your 𝘼𝙧𝙜𝙮𝙡𝙚 was working until close. Johnathan, your best friend in the world, was currently keeping you company on the phone, though you were a bit surprised El wasn’t hogging the line to call Mike. Either way, you were glad.

“I know. But you know how he gets when they just, like, ask him out of nowhere.” Rustling could be heard from the other side of the line behind your friend’s dazed voice. “Especially Tracy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him scared of somebody like he is of her.”

“You’re right. I think we should kill her.” You stated flatly.

Johnathan laughed. “Yeah, you have fun with that. I gotta go — let me know when you think of a plan.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell Nancy I said hi.”

“Will do. Later.”

And with that, you were alone again. Excluding the tv that droned in the next room, the house was barren and silent. It was strange how it didn’t feel like home without your boyfriend. The room severely lacked in his laughter, paired with the absence of a slight fog. A dark green couch groaned as you draped your form across it as dramatically as possible.

If he were with you right now, Argyle would likely be sat on the floor, concentrated as hell, sketching something out for you in a dazed state. It occurred to you how he’d be squinting his eyes ever so slightly at the piece, like he always did, before flashing you a giant grin. The piece would have some weed-related pun or joke, no doubt. However, that just made you miss his presence even more.

So you begrudgingly decided it would be best to nap until his shift ended. You blindly grabbed at the nearest throw blanket and settled down for a bit with the idle chatter and noise of the tv lulling you to sleep.

Meanwhile, Argyle was using everything he had to create his masterpiece — masterpizza? — at the shop where he was supposed to be on break. But with Surfer Boy having their annual run of heart shaped pizza, it caused for a lot of traffic. Which meant a lot of work. However, the one he focused on was more special — it was a surprise for you.

The small kitchen was overrun with a plethora of other teens and twenty-somethings, all laughing and teasing each other about anything and everything. Couples and groups all on cheesy (no pun intended) dates littered the dining area and happily shared their festive ‘za before the sunset. Argyle gently lowered the last red topping onto the heart shaped pie before he inspected it with the determination of a brain surgeon.

“How’s it lookin’ so far?” His coworker mused.

The raven haired male didn’t even register the voice as he lowered the pizza into the oven with the utmost precision. Once settled inside, his focus shifted to the see-through part of the industrial oven. His coworker had never seen the fellow stoner so invested in a creation before — which prompted them to duck down beside him and stare inside the machine.

“So, why exactly are we watching the pizza?”

Their whisper snapped Argyle out of his trance a bit to respond, however his eyes didn’t leave the food. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I wanted to make something special for them. Everything about this has to be perfect.”

“I mean, yeah, but you don’t have to watch it cook—”

Argyle stood and fixed his posture before placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders. He shook his head vigorously and sighed. “You don’t get it, man, you don’t get it!”

“I mean, I know they’ll like anything you make them. Plus, it’s a surprise, right?”

It was somewhat amusing to see how much your boyfriend cared, but this was a tad much. Argyle slung his arm over Leo’s shoulders and directed their attention back to the oven.

“(Y/N) is very very specific about their pizza, bro. You don’t get it. If that cheese is not the perfect amount of golden brown and crispy on the outside with a gooey inside — the entire plan is ruined! My, like, entire relationship depends on this pizza, man!” His raised voice attracted attention of coworkers and customers alike.

The shorter employee gave a confused grin but nodded, slightly adjusting the pull of their festively colored uniform tee. Argyle nervously twirled the pizza paddle between his hands like a weapon that would soon be used to slay a great beast. He was clearly agitated.

“Look, man, I know them — they’re going to be so stoked that you did this just for them. Plus, if you want to leave early, I’ll definitely cover for you.”

He didn’t have to think twice about the offer. Leo grinned and readjusted their visor a bit before heading back to the register. It felt like everything in the brown eyed male’s body had been liquefied before being brought to a boil. It bubbled up inside and worked through his system like part of his bloodstream; all he wanted was to make it up to you. Time inched on slowly as your pizza cooked underneath the tacky decorations in the kitchen.

In the van, he had previously prepared a single rose for you out of a few rolling papers while going over the presentation in depth. Argyle wanted it to be grand — as grand as a pizza delivery could be — but still sweet so you got the message. You’d become accustomed to the sweet and quick compliments he would give at any moment, but it didn’t go far beyond that. And he spent many days quietly berating himself for not being able to get something a tad more meaningful past his lips.

As soon as the pizza was done, Argyle was speeding off towards your house. Instead of his usual music, he opted for one of the many mixtapes you had left for him — though his focus was on his own words rather than the lyrics that filtered through the speakers. He rehearsed the entire thing a multitude of times in the empty van, occasionally making adjustments here and there as necessary.

He nervously drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel as he approached your house. Outside the windshield and reflected in the mirrors the sun was in the final stages of setting; a dark purple that seamlessly faded to a navy blue covered the evening sky for miles on end. Palm trees that were strewn about the small California neighborhood danced lightly in the breeze.

Your house was very much his home — lawn perfectly kept with large plastic flamingos in the patches of flowers, the occasional garden gnome, and wildly printed chairs in the front yard. Argyle pulled up to the driveway just behind your car and made his way to the front porch to ring the doorbell. The warm glow of the living room lights that flooded through the window were ever so kind to light up his features as he waited for you.

Inside the house you forced yourself to roll off the couch and into the direction of the front door, assuming it was Johnathan. At the opening of the door you were instead greeted by a wide grin and long dark hair.

“Argyle? Aren’t you supposed to be closing tonight? What are you doing here, man?”

The sight of you was enough to send his composure into crumbling pieces. Your hair was a bit messy from the nap, coupled with a plain tee shirt and shorts. A colorful throw blanket that always resided on the couch was now draped over your shoulders as you gave him a confused smile.

“I, uh — well, I wanted to make it up to you.” He was back to being as awkward as he was when you first met.

You were given the large pizza box in exchange. God, he was adorable as ever. His usual pale yellow work shirt had been ditched in favor of a black tee with a tuxedo print on the front and his usual long sleeve underneath. The Surfer Boy visor, now in red, sported a few pins that you made for him back in the day. You set the pizza box down at the entry table and yanked at your boyfriend’s shirt, effectively making him stumble inside.

“You’re an absolute dork, you know that?”

“I just wanted to do something special.” He laughed nervously.

You leaned (up/down) to quickly press a kiss into his lips, then tugged on the top of the pizza box. Carefully written on the underside of the cardboard lid was a paragraph and a half of everything Argyle had wanted to say since he first met you. He stood completely still at your side and watched as you read over the lid.

Words about how sweet you were that soon led into a bit about his favorite details of you. If there would’ve been time and room, he could name every single physical feature of yours and think of a million and one reasons why he loved them.

‘You were my first friend back in the day. And I wake up just completely astounded that I get to be with you.’

Had it been more natural to you, you would’ve been crying at that point. But your body settled for a wide grin instead, the muscles pulled taught, and directed it at the long haired male.

“I love you. Like, so much, man. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Your boyfriend pulled you into a hug.

After months of him not knowing what to say, it felt like a weight had finally been lifted from his chest. He was melting into your arms so carefully like he’d never done before. It happened before but not on this scale. Your boyfriend’s nerves had finally been settled the moment he rested his hands on your back, effectively caging you into a tight squeeze.

You laughed a bit into his ear as his long hair brushed the side of your face. “Alright, lovebug, let me set the pizza down.”

Argyle pulled back a bit, keeping his larger hands on your waist. “So, do you like it?”

“Like you even have to ask. Such a shame I’ll be eating it alone — I mean, with you closing and all.”

The (taller/shorter) male used a foot to nudge the front door closed and, using your confusion to his advantage, began to effortlessly hoist you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist without a second thought until you were finally settled in his arms. The action earned him a plethora of kisses until you two finally — and clumsily — found the couch in the next room. He took great care when he laid you down on the gaudy green material, only pulling back to grin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rolling paper rose.

“I got somebody to cover for me. And I’m not leaving until you have been sufficiently loved up, m’dude.”

And he meant it.

The entire night the only thing you could think about as you gazed into his dark brown eyes was just how lucky you were. Totally and utterly lucky to be in love with your best friend as he held you in his arms. Later into the night, you drifted off into a comfortable sleep with Argyle’s head on your chest.

It was perfect.

Reblogs over likes — it helps more people find my stuff. More male/enby reader content on my blog. Stranger Things requests still open, come say hi!

#x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things x gender neutral reader #stranger things x reader #argyle x reader #jaws stranger things

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obetrolncocktails · 2 years

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That's Alright, Mama | Josh Kiszka X Reader

Warnings: ATTENTION-- Minors absolutely DNI. This fic is not for the faint of heart and it is definitely not everyone's thing, so please be advised. Alcohol consumption, degradation, Unprotected Sex, name calling, impact play, slight mention of breath play, pain, spitting, BODY SHOTS, explicit language, sub/dom/brat galore--this fic constantly shifts between who is leading and who is following, and I love how it turned out. You have been OFFICIALLY warned. Proceed at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: You horny fuckers asked for it, so I made sure to give it to you with a fucking cherry on top. I hope you guys enjoy my demented brain and whatever appears in this fic. It was my goal to make this sinful and I think I may have gotten it too sinful, if that's even possible. Huge thanks to @gretavanlace and @capturethechaos for reading this bullshit and whispering sweet nothings in my ear while I worked. Love you guys 💜

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, this one’s for you.” Josh throws his arm up in the air on stage, his pointer finger extended out to the crowd before landing on you, seated just above stage left. There’s a slight lull in the band before Jake begins to play the familiar rockabilly riff that sends you straight to hell. “That’s alright, Mama. That’s alright for you.That's all right mama, just anyway you do.”

What a little fucker. That song is your weakness and it is rare when the band performs it, but when they do, it makes you squirm in your pants every time. He has a shit ton of nerve to perform this song in public knowing what happened the last time.

“Oh, mama. Why so upset?” He purred later that night. “Got you a little too worked up? Did you ruin your panties with your own slick watching me perform for everyone?”

The way that you had fucked that night left you begging for more, but he made sure to save it for another day–and damn if tonight wasn’t that fucking night. He knew that you loved it when he would sing in his low register, loved it even more when he could tease you with it. Tonight, you sit in your seat, wanting nothing more than to tear Josh’s stupid fucking jumpsuit off and fuck him on sight.

“Alright, LA! Goodnight, aha!” You watch intently as he runs off stage. You rise from your seat, politely excusing yourself from the small strands of fans who know who you are. While you would usually spend as much time with them as you could, tonight, you had one goal and one goal only. You knew he’d be ready and waiting for you, too.

You stomp your way past security, flashing them your crew lanyard, making your way backstage to the sectioned off area for the band and their crew. Your eyes trace every head and face, searching for Josh. All you had to do was look Jake in the eye for him to raise his hands in defense. “Wasn’t me, he put it on there at the last minute.”

Your face blushed immediately, “What the fuck are you talking about, Jake?” You step forward, invading his space. “Put what on there at the last minute?”

“That’s Alright.” He eyes you with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

You huffed loudly. Is there anything sacred? “Why the fuck would he tell you that?” That earns an even wider smirk from Jake, “We talk, Y/n. Take it up with him. I’m innocent. Need to see my white flag?”

Jake takes his ear pieces out, putting them back into the case and continues on to grab his guitar from one of the stage hands.

“And where is he anyway?” You ask, looking around. Jake turns to you while placing the guitar in his case.

“Said he was grabbing a drink. Check the dressing room. Don’t worry. It locks.” He winks at you before snapping the case shut and walking off to join Jita who was talking with Danny and Sam.

You march off towards the elevators, thinking about what to say when you see Josh’s smug face. Entering the elevator, you choose the floor down and wait for it to arrive. You spend a moment checking the notifications on your phone. When it dings, your attention remains focused on your phone as you step forward. The doors open and you step out–at least you were going to.

“Just on time,” You hear his voice first before raising your attention upward, seeing his hand holding the elevator. “Miss me?” He obviously wants to play with you today, but he won’t tame you so easily. The exciting thing about your relationship was that you are both equally matched when it comes to being bratty with one another. You step forward, brushing past him.

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch,” You spit at him, struggling to conceal the smirk that threatened the corners of your mouth.

“Cocky? Whatever could you mean, Y/n?” He looks at you with an innocent-looking expression. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Stop with the eyes, Joshua.” You look at him intently, raising an eyebrow. “You did that on purpose. Even Jake fucking knew. What the fuck is wrong with you?” You step towards him.

“Oh I get it. Mmm,” He says, nodding his head and wagging his finger at you. “I got you weak in the knees, didn’t I? Choosing the bitchy angle so I don’t see that there is nothing but sex in your eyes and cum in your panties. What did I tell you last time, Y/n?” You lower your eyebrows in a grimace, but struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “I told you that I wasn’t done with you. Remember, I didn’t call you down here. You found me on your own–because let’s both be honest with one another,” He paused for a second, swirling his finger in a circular shape in the air. “We go round and round and round chasing the glory of that first orgasm. Trust me when I say that if we enter behind that door,” He gestures over his shoulder to the dressing room, “There is no going back.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for, then?” You ask as you throw your hands up to the collar of his jumpsuit, pulling him into you. “This. I was waiting for this, Y/n.” He chuckles at you, which only makes you hornier.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about fucking you all night, could you tell?” Being so close to him, you could feel his breath on your skin.

“I think you just wanted to piss me off.” You bit back, pulling the material of his top down his shoulders.

“Piss you off? Please. You’re not pissed, baby. You want me to fuck you so badly that you resort to anger to downplay the fact that your panties are soaked through. Even I can feel your clit throbbing right now as we speak.” Suddenly, you feel his hand squeezing at your clothed pussy, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your lips.

“That’s not true,” you attempted, throwing his hand back. “Y-you know I hate that song.”

“Only because you wish I wouldn’t sing it in front of fifteen thousand other women who want to fuck me just as much as you do.” You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Your eyes widen with surprise.

“Would you like me to be? We could solve that easily.” You roll your eyes, groping for his hand, pulling him toward the dressing room.

“Come,” You order simply, satisfied when he gives in, following you.

“One rule, Mama. Don’t pretend you’re in charge here.” He eyes you intently, his expression is unreadable. “Strip. Naked. Give me your panties.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “For a souvenir.”

“You are so fucked up,” You sneer at him, unable to stifle the wicked grin mixing into the expression.

“Not enough to stop you from coming back.”

You undress completely, handing him your panties in a wad. “So fucking wet,” He murmurs, bringing them to his face to smell. You watch as he rubs the tips of his thumb and index finger along the crotch of your underwear, making an obvious display of your arousal.

Pointing to the couch, he begins to speak again, careful to not waste a single word. “Lay down. On your back.” You begin to protest, struggling with losing control.

“Y/n. Stop. You’re fucking pathetic.” You swallow, the sting of his words cutting into you, but not nearly enough to stop the wetness that is beginning to slip down your thighs. “We both know you want me to break you, so stop with the show that I didnt fucking pay for. Lay down.”

“Yes sir.” You resign yourself to him, feeling your body buzzing with electricity, wanting with every firing synapse for him to ravage you completely. You do as you’re told and lay on the couch, waiting for further direction.

“I’m feeling…a bit too sober right now,” you hear him say, his voice traveling towards the stocked bar cart that is placed on the opposite side of the room. “Vodka makes me laugh…” his voice trails off and you can imagine his fingertips hovering about the slew of bottles as he makes his selection. “Tequila makes me cocky, but I don’t need much help with that tonight.” There is a pause before you hear bottles clinking against one another. “Ah. Fireball. Makes me a horny son of a bitch.” You hear him uncapping the bottle, lifting it from the cart. “Those sexy girls on the barricade got me started with a few shots already. All I had to do was give them a little wink and there we go, got a few mini bottles.” He walks towards the center of the room, lifting the bottle in mid air, swigging down the liquor as if it were spring water. “The thing is, Y/n–I could have fucked any one of them tonight, and there wouldn’t be a goddamned thing you could have done about it.” Anger flames within you, making it impossible to stay quiet.

“Why didn’t you, then?” You furrow your eyebrows, but realize that you’re only fueling his satisfaction.

“Sex is always better when you have to work for it, isn’t that right, Y/n? You’d just want me to fuck any woman with a hot, wet pussy? We both know that’s a lie.” He slings back another drunkening lot of whiskey, wiping sloppily at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I like watching you burn with jealousy.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, sitting up suddenly, turning to him. “Oh and fuck you, I will. You’re so wet hearing me speak–I know that you are making a mess of that poor couch.” He flicks his hand in the air. “I’ll just pay the venue for another. If you want to stay, you can. You are allowed to leave whenever. If you stay, I will fuck you to tears–and I will not apologize. So, what will it be, darling?”

You are speechless, but you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to punch the fuck out of him…and fuck him. Whichever came first. Suddenly, you fly up to him, throwing your fist towards him, hoping to crack him on the cheek, but your attempt is ruined when you feel him catch your arm just as quickly, raising it over your head. In an extended moment of heated silence, you stare into his eyes.

I hate you, but I want to fuck you. But I hate you, you’re a fucking asshole. But, Jesus Fucking Christ.

Your body decides before your brain can, toppling into Josh with the force that knocks him backwards, the bottle almost falling out of his grip and into the floor. His free hand pulls you in, smashing his lips against yours. His breath is ragged with lust, and you can taste the liquor upon each exhalation and within every kiss.

“Josh,” You moan against his lips, letting his hands grope hungrily about your body.

“Do you want me?” He says in a barely there whisper, his lips coming to graze yours.

“I need you. Now. Please.” Josh backs away slightly, lifting your head slightly with the tip of his fingers. “Do you know what you are signing up for?” His eyes are dark, deepening with the possibility of what could occur if you say yes. “You want out? Just say…fireball. I’ll stop completely and you can leave.” You nod with understanding.

“Yes, I understand, and I am telling you to fuck me–right here, right now.” You meet his gaze with matched intensity, challenging him.

“Get on your back. Actually do it this time.” You do what he asks immediately, laying down flat on the couch, wiggling your body to find the most comfortable position.

“Up for a little fun?” Josh asks, biting at his bottom lip as he approaches you.

You nod your head slowly, moving your eyes along the slope of his shoulders and down his bare chest. When he arrives beside you, you feel his hand at your jaw.

“Open up.”

You do what you’re told immediately, unsure what is about to happen. Your eyes dart to the whiskey bottle as Josh tilts it back to his lips, taking a generous mouthful. You feel his thumb pull your bottom lip back slightly as he leans down over you, releasing the warm liquid into your mouth. “A gift,” He murmurs softly, closing your mouth gently with the curve of his knuckle. “Figured you could relax a little.” You swallow the alcohol down, feeling it burn at the back of your throat. Soon, its warmth blooms in your belly, calming the edge off slightly, but you know you’ll need more soon.

“Stay still, let me look at you.” Josh’s eyes scan your body intensely and you swear that you can almost see hunger in them. “Never done this before, let’s try it.” There’s not much liquor left in the bottle, most of it drained down Josh’s throat. With his thumb, he covers almost all of the opening of the bottle, leaving just enough space for liquid to flow through in a thin, direct stream. Getting on his knees, he edges towards you, tilting the bottle at a forty-five degree angle just above your belly button. When the drink finally hits your skin, a shutter racks your body, causing an array of goosebumps to appear all over.

“Cold?” He says after a satisfied chuckle. “I’ll warm you up, mama.” Craning his neck down, his tongue glides along the smoothness of your skin, lapping at the liquid that has managed to drip in a long line down the curve of your side, one down your belly just before the dip of your pussy, and another that trickles down just before your breast bone. “Got a little messy, didn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” you respond in agreement. As your belly rises and falls with your breath, Josh continues to draw small circles about your skin before finally dragging the flat of his tongue upon your belly, sucking and slurping the bitter liquor out of the curve of your belly button.You close your eyes, mapping out his movement when they suddenly spring back open from the sting of Josh’s teeth nipping into your skin.

“Relax mama.” You moan softly as he peppers your skin with angry splotches. “I want you to remember this.” His lips encircle one of your nipples, and you find your fingers knitting themselves through his frizzy curls. Rising slightly from you, he starts, “Mm, you acted so hurt, so pissed, yet you tremble with need under my touch. His index finger draws circles into the softness of your skin. “What would you like me to do to you, hmm?”

Finally given permission to talk, you reach for his hands, pulling them to your sides. “I need you to fuck me like you own me–make me your fucktoy that you use however you want or need. Bend me to your will.” You say the words in a low, gravely tone, not a trace of insecurity or hesitation.

“Is that really what you want? Me to fuck you raw?” His eyes glint with deviant fascination, his fingertips digging into your hips. “I may not be the tallest man in the world, but I can guarantee that I will fuck you like I am.” Your nipples spring fully erect in response to his words.

“Then why are you hesitating?” You snip with a flat expression, taking a free hand to draw shapes upon your chest as you wait for him to finally take everything from you. He is silent for a moment before snatching you up by the chin.

“Keep talking shit and I'll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours.” His eyes are deep with concentration and you can see the growing erection in his pants just out of the corner of your eye. He is getting off on roughing you up.

His hands move to your hips again, throwing you towards one end of the couch so that he can join you. Quickly, he frees himself out of the jumpsuit, letting the clothing fall to the floor in a heap. He is not wearing underwear, which makes you chuckle. You didn’t mean to make it obvious, but he heard it. He strikes you firmly against the breasts before barking, “I know you’re not laughing at me. You’re not that fucking stupid.”

He is well-plied with alcohol, and though you hadn’t ever fucked this Josh, every fiber of your being wants him to tear you apart, make you cry, call you any and every degrading name that he can come up with; the best part is that you knew that he will do it.

“Just for that, you don’t get my tongue. Sucks for you, because I know just how to use it on your sopping cunt.” Getting on the couch, he works with your legs, moving them to the side, only to constantly struggle with the position that you end up in each time. The angles are horrendous, and there is not enough room for him to be able to work. “Fuck,” you hear him grunt through gritted teeth, frustration painted all over his face. “Guess the floor will have to work, won’t it?”

You are surprised with the tenderness he shows while lifting you, his hands wrapping around you with ease, coming to place you gently on the floor. Though you’re sure he didn’t intend for it to leak through his drunken exterior, Josh’s true personality glimmers upon his touch, betraying the character ever-so-slightly.

The thought is pulled away when he spreads your legs wide with his knees and guiding his cock into your entrance, fucking into you with no preparation, no foreplay, and no guilt. “I told you no tongue. What did you expect, hmm?” He pauses for a moment before slamming into you again. “You’re really tight for a whore,” He says with a low, gravely tone. You whimper as he fucks you, feeling bombared by arousal. His words would have usually cut you down, but tonight all they do is push you further into ecstasy.

“Do anything to me, Josh. Anything. Degrade me.” You break his rule, speaking out of turn, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You keep your eyes on him as he leans over you, letting his hands catch himself as they palm the floor at either side of your body. “Fuck.” He says before throwing a hand down in between your thighs, rubbing at your swollen clit. “You really do like this, don’t you? When I call you my little cum slut? My cock whore? Has a nice ring to it.” The flat of his fingertips sweet erratically upon your clit, filling the room with absurd, sloppy noise. Your back arches reflexively against the overwhelming action.

”How are you gonna feel when there’s dried cum stains all over this filthy floor from what I do to you? Everytime we come back to perform, I’ll think of you.” Your eyes screw shut, and you find yourself struggling to remember to breathe. “What’s on your mind mama? What are you thinking about?”

“I–I would have let you fuck me in front–of the entire arena had you asked.” He fucks you even harder in response, removing his hand from you to scrounge for your hips, pulling them up off of the floor and onto his thighs, resuming his previous pace.

“Maybe next time. You’re a freak for wanting people to watch us fuck like animals.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Let them watch. I’m the one winning, anyway.” To your surprise, Josh doesn’t punish you, instead, he leans over you, sinking into your lips. “You are magically fucking wicked.” His arms wrap around you, pulling you off of the floor in a sitting position. “I want you to bounce on my cock. Show me you’re worth more than tits and ass.” He mutters the words sloppily, letting his lips, tongue and teeth drag down the long line from your collarbone and down between your breasts to your belly. Your skin glows from the contact with his teeth, leaving you burning. Wrapping your legs around his back, you use the gained leverage to bounce up and down, the new angle sending a shock of pleasure through your body.

“Fucking Christ,” You whimper, tossing the looseness of your hair behind your back, pulling your arms around Josh’s neck. You busy your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling and straightening out the sweaty curls. This new position allows for deeper penetration at different angles, each one adding to the overwhelming sensation growing in your core. You can hear the grunts and whimpers that he is trying so hard to conceal. “I can hear you, baby. Let it out. I know I make you weak.” He bucks wildly into you, his fingertips stabbing into you. Opening your eyes, you can see that his face is twisted with exertion, his curls glistening with sweat. “Fuck! Josh, right there–harder–” You yelp, throwing your hands to his shoulders. “Oh my god!” The words escape your lips at high volume, and you weren't prepared for his hand to slap at your mouth to keep you from talking. “If they hear us–I'll either be arrested, or–” You reach for his hand, wrenching it from your mouth. “I don’t fucking care. I said to fuck me like you own me. So shut up and do it.”

You can see his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallows, considering your words. “Just know that I won’t be gentle.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, and suddenly you feel something warm dripping down your skin. It takes you a moment to realize that he spit on you, only to lap it back up in a long line, ending just before the curve of your jaw. “Own you? I can do that. Turn around and get on your knees. Head down, ass up.” You crawl off of him and assume the position, waiting patiently for him as your ass wags in the air. He rises, watching you shift position, busying himself by stroking his cock. When you are settled and waiting, you feel his hands rub along the roundness of your ass. “So beautiful at every fucking angle, especially this one.”

He plummets into you completely with the first thrust, and you can hear the groans escaping his throat as he withdraws his cock again, stopping just before revealing his pink tip. He teases you with a moment of nothingness before falling into you again, causing your body to shake from the momentum and impact.

“Josh, fuck-oh my–fuck,” you growl, feeling your elbows grind into the scatchy carpet.

“Ass higher.” He smacks the flat of his hand hard against your ass, enthused when it jiggles in response from the strike. You do your best to appease him, lowering your chest closer to the floor, and arching your back in a defined curve upward. Suddenly, searing white pain fills your senses. Josh has pulled your head back by your hair, his fist knotted into the shaft of your hair. For a moment, you consider the safeword that he had selected, but the pleasure is far too immense for you to attempt to stop. Choked gurgles escape your throat as he fucks you so roughly. You can feel your pussy throbbing and can assume that it is dripping in the most obscene display. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He releases your hair in order to focus on his orgasm, and you do your best to make the moment count, throwing your ass back against his cock.

“I can take–all of you,” you release in a strangled tone. He continues to pummel you, gravity forcing your body to slam against the floor. Against your cheek, you feel the texture of the floor rubbing your face raw. “I’m yours. Take it all. Steal it,” you moaned, withdrawing completely from any desire to test his dominance.

“Not before I make you cum. I might be an asshole, but I’m not evil.” His hand retreats from your ass, looping down once more to your pussy, rubbing furiously at your clit, stopping and starting at random intervals. Your body convulses against his touch, and the only thing you can do is push yourself against him, needing so badly for him to take you to your limit. “I know you’re close, Mama. I’m saving mine so we can fall apart together. You just have to let go.”

You aren’t far behind him, feeling your core exploding against his shaft. His fingers do not relent or slow. Quite the opposite, he increases the pace and frenzy of his hands. “Let. Go.” He orders in a brusk tone, but you were already long gone for him to worry any longer.

“Oh my fucking G–” You manage to get out before crumpling from the orgasm.

“No! Stay there,” Josh reprimands, fucking into you repeatedly as you struggle to find your footing. His body collapses into yours with a slew of expletives, his hips slapping forcefully against you, sending you almost toppling over. He holds you in this precarious position for as long as he can, savoring every second of pleasure. Finally, he wraps his arms around you, pulling out and pulling you up at once to embrace you.

“I’m sorry…it went a little too far this time.” He murmured softly in your ear. The funny thing is, you would have let him tear you apart again and again if he fucked you just like this every single time. You turn your body to face him, looking him directly in the eye.

“I never asked you to take it easy on me. I said to fuck me like you own me–no need to apologize for doing your job.” Reaching up for his chin with your fingertips, you pull him down to you. “I always have something up my sleeve, Josh. I’ve got you wrapped around my finger, just like you’ve got me wrapped around your cock. “And the ‘glory’ of the first time? I think you’ve outdone yourself.” You kiss him deeply, softening the moment.

“Thank the fireball, mama. Oh, and lots and lots of jealousy.” His smile spreads across your lips, the beauty of his features melting you so much that you don’t care to argue, instead, you reach an arm behind him and smack his bare ass as hard as you can.

“Next time–I’ll have you on the floor, ass up. You call me wicked? You’ve seen nothing yet.”

***

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hyunverse · 4 years

Text

ASKING THEM “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I DIE?” | JJK

includes fushiguro megumi, inumaki toge and gojo satoru.

gender neutral.

genre; fluff, comfort.

“what would you do if i die?”, your question was anything but serious. you intended it to sound like a joke. all you wanted was for your tsundere of a boyfriend to maybe say something cute.

perhaps a cute “i will miss you”?

but the gaze you were met by proved megumi took your words rather seriously.

“what type of question is that?”, his voice sounds stern, a hint of disbelief behind it. fushiguro drops the pencil from his hands, letting the wood roll on the glass table, stopping when it hits his black pencil case. your face softens when you see his distressed face, the playful smile across your lips slowly fading into a frown. did the boy take your words for real?

“hey, don’t answer my question with a question”, you say as your pointer fumbles with the page corners of your notebook, “it’s just a question, ‘goomi”.

fushiguro raises his eyebrow and shuts his notebook. you could see his name written on the book cover, his handwriting pretty neat. you’ve always loved your boyfriend’s handwriting, you found the slightly tilted font adorable. it suited him. megumi’s fingers move from the brown notebook to your forehead; you yelp when you feel him flicking his fingers against your skin.

“the hell was that for?”, you mumble, your hand flying to your forehead to rub the surface. from the cracks of your fingertips you could see him send a glare towards your way.

“don’t you go dying on me now”, he huffs before reopening his notebook then resuming his work. by the way his eyebrows keep on furrowing and his lips occasionally turning into a pout, you could tell he’s still thinking of your question.

you suddenly feel bad. the raven didn’t need to hear that question; it made him think about the possibilities that could actually happen in the future. itadori possibly being executed in the future is more than enough to upset him already, he certainly does not want to lose you too.

“baby, i’d never leave you, you know?”, a hand lands on megumi’s. his gaze trails from your hand on his to your eyes. the pet name you used flies over his head, caused by the softness of your fingers. and when he finally registers you calling him “baby”, a pet name you typically reserve for private moments, red hues taint his pale skin. it’s like his brain just short-circuited.

“i know”, he grumbles. softly, he links your fingers with his before looking back down on his book. megumi uses his free hand to continue writing, trying desperately to hide the blush in his cheeks.

the poor boy really would do anything to hide how soft he is for you.

“toge”, your voice makes inumaki look up from his phone. you’re currently sitting by his side on the train, on your way to his favourite bakery. he raises his head, gesturing you to continue speaking.

“what would you do if i die?”, you ask in an oh-so casual tone. you try your best to make it sound like his answer isn’t a big deal, when in truth, your heart beats a little faster as you anticipate a respond.

“bonito flakes!”, your boyfriend grunts. inumaki turns his face back to face forward, but not before he sends you a glare that screams “don’t you dare”.

that was the first time you’ve ever seen inumaki look so scary. matter of fact, you swear it’d be your last time ever upsetting him that way. you watch him from the side of your eye, almost laughing when you see how awkward he looks while crossing his arms. the cursed speech user had gotten so used to having his arms around yours that it feels awkward when they’re free from your tight grip.

giving up on trying to adjust his arms, the boy then links his arm with yours and places his head in the crook of your neck. off-white strands of hair tickles your complexion; nothing you’re not used to. toge more than enjoys being babied by you, and you know that.

it’s not that he doesn’t care enough for you to answer your question; it’s the fact that even the thought of your death scares inumaki toge to the very pit of his stomach. for now, he’ll just bask in the boon of being around you.

“satoru”, you manage to blurt out. around you is catastrophe; curses roaming freely and a bunch of jujutsu sorcerers fighting for their lives. gojo doesn’t even turn towards you, he simply continues moving forward, deeper into the mess but it’s alright to you; you know he’s listening. he always is.

you gulp the thick lump in your throat, caused by terror, “what would you do if i die right here?”, you finally question. gojo doesn’t miss the hesitance in your voice, he could sense it from miles away. as much as you try to act tough around him, you could never fool him. not when the man knows you like the back of his hand.

satoru pauses, and you follow suit. you could see him inhaling a deep breath before turning towards you with a grin on his face.

“well, you won’t”, he reassures you. the confident tone he used was ridiculous to you. how could the bastard be so confident in his skills? you’ll never understand that.

sighing, you run your fingers through your hair in frustration. you admit, his answer calmed you down a little. you could feel your uneven breathing slow down.

“how are you so sure, satoru?”, you argue. it’s your turn to walk in front now, leaving your partner behind.

he’ll catch up soon anyway.

just like you thought, it doesn’t take the sorcerer long to catch up to you. in a heartbeat, you could sense the white-haired man walking by your side. those long legs of his sure has it’s benefits, aside from enhancing his physical appearance.

“’cause i’m here to protect you”, satoru’s words sound amusingly confident. at this point he’s ridiculing the curses around him.

nonetheless, you don’t fight back his words. satoru gojo is the strongest sorcerer after all; and he loves you. you know he always has your back.

✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0

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sukirichi · 4 years

Note

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead. “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy.

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

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squidyyy23 · 2 years

Text

for his honey 🍯

ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.

we all know @gallawitchxx is the queen bee of the birthday trope mashup ficlets. but what about her birthday prompt: alternate universe with characters who work together? so here you go, babe. a little something for your bee-day 🐝

rating: [be]e (<- "i was hoping for something a bit spicer". challenge accepted. 🌶) word count: 3.5k

and shoutout to sara @shameless-notashamed for the brilliant beta brain

read below the cut or on ao3 🍯🐝

Mickey’s phone vibrates in his pocket. It takes a moment for him to register the feeling against his leg out here surrounded by the familiar white noise of his bees buzzing away in their hives. He slides the frame back into the box, quickly removes his gloves, sets them beside his well-used smoker, and answers the call.

“He signed the contract!” an excited woman squeals through the speaker. He winces, holding the phone farther away from his ear. “I’ll swing by with a copy for you two to sign tomorrow.”

Mickey’s beaming when he hangs up. Victorious.

“Who was that?” Ian brushes the dirt off his hands and wanders over from where he’d been working in his garden.

It’s curiosity only, an interest in his husband’s life. Not an ounce of distrust or jealousy. They’d long gotten over all that shit. Solid for over a decade.

“Realtor,” Mickey answers.

“Realtor?” Ian repeats, confused.

“We got it.” Mickey doesn’t bother to hide his accomplished smile. Hell of a fight, but he did it.

“We got what?” Ian still hasn’t caught on.

“It. The land. The expansion.”

“Wait, what? I thought—” Mickey watches the realization wash over him. “How?”

“I have my ways.” Mickey smirks.

“‘Course you do.” Ian’s body language softens, excitement morphing into something else. Something notably hotter than even the warm summer air. “You always make shit happen.”

Damn straight he does.

Mickey looks around at all they’ve built. Their respectable plot of land. The couple acres of bee farm. The sizable garden they cleared last year for Ian’s crops. The small country store by the road where they sell their local, organic honey—and more recently, Ian’s produce and quickly-becoming-famous jarred tomato sauce—to tourists passing through on their way to their fancy-ass vacation homes in the mountains. A huge step up from the booth they used to lug around to every farmer’s market in a hundred-mile radius.

Ever since Ian followed his gardening passions to grow their business, he’s been whining about not having enough space to grow all the shit he wants. Nerdy ass motherfucker has all dozen of his beds mapped out in a goddamn spreadsheet trying to squeeze in as many things as possible.

They’d talked about trying to purchase the empty lot behind theirs. Called up a realtor. Paid a fucking appraiser to come out and give them an estimate of the land’s value. Sat down one very long night with the books and crunched the numbers. It was doable.

Only stumbling block was the prick who currently owned it. Some old, rich, white, republican asshole whose family bought up half the town generations ago. Jackass in a suit with zero intention of ever using the land for anything other than stroking his own ego.

So they made him an offer in line with said ego. Too generous if you asked Mickey, but Ian was so eager to make it happen that Mickey’d agreed. The response came back the very same day. No. Dickwad had refused to even consider it.

Ian wrote it off as a lost cause and sulked around for a week. But Mickey didn’t plan on letting it go that easily. If this guy thought he could bully them around just because he had a half-decent education and a pile of daddy’s money, he had another thing coming.

Kind of shit Terry would have pulled if he’d had the power. The thought only pissed Mickey off and made him want to fuck the guy over even more. His fist-fighting days might be over, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still up for a good challenge. Don’t fuck with a man’s honey.

“Can’t believe you kept going after him.” Ian steps into Mickey’s space. Drapes his arms over his shoulders. “Thought we’d given up.” A familiar fire burns in his eyes.

Mickey looks up into Ian’s heated gaze. “My husband’s got eight hundred varieties of tomatoes to grow. Think I’m gonna let some jackass stand in the way of that?” He grins, a mischievous thing, knowing damn well what these kinds of things do to Ian.

In an instant, Ian’s lips are on his, his tongue slipping through Mickey’s smile.

God, he fucking loves this man. All these years and it never gets old. Still that same rush. That same fluttering in his gut.

Ian’s arms slide down and wrap around Mickey’s back, those huge hands spread possessively across his rib cage. Mickey lets his hands fall from Ian’s waist to his hips where he slips his thumbs into the band of his dirty jeans and tugs. Not enough to pull them off, but enough to convey the message.

Hands drop to Mickey’s hips, pulling them forward and holding him steady as Ian grinds their already half-hard dicks together. Mickey swallows down the low moan breathed into his mouth before Ian pulls back, stepping away in his best effort to restrain himself.

“Not here,” Ian says.

“Jesus Christ. This again?” Mickey complains, wiping sweat from his brow, a combination of heat and arousal.

“I just can’t,” Ian whines. “The endless buzzing. Thousands of tiny eyes. Watching.” He makes a show of visibly shuddering at the thought.

“They’re bees. They aren’t fucking watching. Pretty sure they don’t give a shit to see us bang.”

“What if one stings your dick?”

“Seriously?” Mickey grouches. “Used to fuck behind the hives at the school almost every day. Never used to complain then.” But Mickey starts gathering his bee-keeping supplies into his toolbox anyway.

“Actually, yes. Yes, I did, but I put up with it ‘cause it was the only spot your dad would never come near.” Ian helps him pack up his tools.

There really was something funny about the fact that Terry—the big, tough, drug-running, child-abusing piece of shit—was terrified of some tiny, fuzzy insects. Maybe that’s part of what drew Mickey to bee-keeping. A quiet way to piss on his father.

Mickey hadn’t even known what apiculture was when he’d signed up for the high school’s agriculture program as his junior year elective. But it sounded like an easy class, and maybe he’d pick up some tips to up production from his weed plants. And of course Ian was there, damn hippie with a provider complex, eager to learn how to feed his whole family from a handful of seeds.

Ended up being the only period Mickey never skipped. Surprisingly, some of the material still managed to sink in even if he did spend every class staring at silky red hair.

They rush back to the store in record time, teasing each other the whole way. Mickey grabs at Ian’s dick, tickling his balls through his jeans. Ian slaps his ass when Mickey turns to run, a seductive waggle to his strut. Flirty and fun, always bringing out that youthful energy in each other.

Finally, they reach the back door, slamming it open as they bumble their way inside, practically tripping over each other on their quest to get behind the locking door of their office. But of fucking course, the bell chimes, and in walks an elderly couple, probably retired, traveling through in that giant-ass RV Mickey can see through the front windows.

And Mickey’s about to get real bitchy with these cockblocking customers, already sucking in a breath ready to blow, when Ian’s hand lands on his chest. Cool it, tiger. Can’t be scaring off the money makers.

Mickey lets it out, restrains himself just enough, tapping his foot while Ian goes off to greet the couple. He watches Ian show them around the store, offering samples of their most popular varieties of honey.

It’s a small shop, but it’s nice. Theirs. Mickey ain’t ashamed to admit he’s proud of it.

After what seems like hours to Mickey’s impatiently pulsing dick, Ian finally rings them up. Managed to sweet talk them into three bottles of honey, a jar of his precious tomato sauce, and even one of Franny’s handmade bracelets on display by the register. Mickey’s always impressed by his husband’s salesman skills, but Jesus fuck, can he not be so fucking nice to everyone all the damn time?

Ian flips the sign on the door to “closed”. His eyes land on Mickey, fucking him up and down from across the room. Mickey’s ass clenches in anticipation. Then the tension snaps, the both of them darting toward the office in the same instant.

Mickey makes it there first. By the time he turns around, Ian’s locking the door behind them, shirt already stripped off somewhere along the way. Fucker really hates shirts.

Before Mickey can blink, Ian’s got him shoved up against the wall, his body pinning him hard against the old wood paneling. He smells like dirt and sun and tomato leaves. Up this close, Mickey can see the pollen dusting across his nose, hiding amongst the freckles.

“Now tell me,” Ian growls into the crook of Mickey’s neck, breath hot against his skin, “how you broke that bastard into selling you the land.” Mickey tilts his head back, exposing more flesh to Ian’s busy lips. “Into giving you what you wanted.”

“Told him— fuck.” Ian pulls the collar of Mickey’s shirt open with his teeth, revealing even more skin to be ravaged.

“Tell me,” Ian chides.

Mickey sucks in a shaky breath. “Told him if he didn’t hand over the land, the ABF, USDA, and EPA would be up his ass ‘bout fucking with an endangered species’ natural habitat. Went after the fuckers money. ‘Course he folded.”

Mickey leaves out the part about slipping his brother some cash to “look into the guy” just in case the legal threats didn’t pan out. But if he never had to use the blackmail, Ian didn’t need to know.

“Money’s all that prick’s got in his life.” Mickey hisses as Ian grinds their hips together at just the right angle. “Doesn’t have a hunk of a husband like I do.”

Ian smiles at him like Mickey just came home with the winning lottery ticket.

“Fuck, I married the sexiest man on the planet.”

Ian reaches under Mickey’s ass and lifts his feet off the floor. Mickey circles his arms around his neck, holding on as their mouths crash together. Knocking teeth. Bruised and bitten lips.

Then Ian’s moving. Stumbling backward. Mickey’s too lost in their fervid kisses to pay much mind, trusting completely in his husband. At Ian’s mercy, always.

The back of his legs hit the edge of the desk, and Ian sets him down. The perfect height to line their mouths up just right.

Mickey’s hands work their way into Ian’s hair, tugging at the strands and scratching at his scalp. Ian clasps Mickey’s cheeks, his thumbs rubbing soft circles along his jawline, a stark contrast to the way he sucks Mickey’s lips between his teeth and pinches.

They’re both panting when they finally part for air. Ian’s fingers frantically unfasten Mickey’s jeans. Mickey uses his arms wrapped around Ian’s neck to pull him up enough for Ian to slide them off, exposing his bare ass to the polished wood.

He hears seams popping when Ian yanks Mickey’s shirt over his head. Ian wraps him in his strong arms and moans when their naked chests press together.

“You showed that asshole who’s boss,” Ian says, stepping back and stripping out of his own pants. “Now let me show yours.”

He rounds the desk. In one fluid movement, he swipes everything on its surface to the ground. Pens scatter, papers go flying, but it’s just a mess. They learned long ago not to keep anything fragile on there.

The handle nearly tears off the drawer Ian pulls it open with such force. He grabs the bottle of office lube and slams it on the cleared surface.

He stalks back in front of Mickey. Grabs his chin for one quick but all-consuming kiss before turning him around by the shoulder. A rough shove to Mickey’s upper back and he’s bent over the desk. His exposed asshole clenched, waiting.

“Fuck,” Ian whispers behind him. Raspy. Reverent. Fingertips trail down his spine. “Gorgeous like this. Still can’t believe I get to have this.”

A swift palm to Mickey’s left cheek has him gasping in surprise. He melts further into the desk, surrendering to the sweet, sweet sting on his skin.

So that’s how this is going to go. Mickey closes his eyes and curls his bottom lip between his teeth. He mentally runs through the possibility of buying up all the neighboring land if this is the reward.

Ian must have lubed up while Mickey was lost in his thoughts because suddenly he’s being filled, Ian crooking his finger into that perfect spot right off the bat.

“Ah, fuck. Holy fuck,” Mickey moans, burying his face in his arms.

His back arches into the pressure, his legs already starting to shake. From one finger. Fuck, his husband owns him.

One finger quickly turns into two, Ian scissoring them open for that achingly good stretch. He folds himself over Mickey’s body, planting soft kisses on the still-warm flesh of Mickey’s slapped cheek, Ian’s lips buzzing against skin when he moans into it.

He’ll never get over the sounds of his husband getting off to Mickey’s pleasure. From Mickey just being. Just submitting. Riles Ian up just as much as having his dick in Mickey’s mouth.

Then he adds a third finger to the mix. Fucks them into him good and hard while his other hand snakes around to stroke Mickey’s cock, his lips never leaving Mickey’s skin. Never enough to push him over that edge, just enough to keep him teetering right on it.

And then, fuck, then another. A glorious fourth finger that has Mickey drooling over the desk, his mouth hanging open as frankly inhuman sounds escape his lungs. His hips sway on his shaking legs as he adjusts to the sensation.

Spread. Stretched. Stuffed.

By his husband.

“Fuck,” Ian purrs and Mickey can feel him stand up behind him. “Take it so good, baby. Doing such a good job for me.”

Even with his eyes closed, Mickey can picture the look on Ian’s face as he stands back and soaks in the view. Half his hand buried in Mickey’s slick ass bent over the table.

Ian twists his fingers inside Mickey’s pulsing hole and they both groan in unison. Mickey’s not sure which one of them is enjoying this more.

“Love it when you let me use this perfect hole of yours,” Ian goes on, his voice sending shivers up Mickey’s spine. “Let me treat you like the queen you are.”

And Mickey’s preening under Ian’s attention, his body opening up to accept whatever Ian wants to give him.

It took him a while to get used to this, to get comfortable with it—Ian showering him in praise and affection—after a lifetime of hurt and neglect. Never learned how to process such positive words.

But now he loves it. Has learned to relish in it. Sometimes even beg for it. The assurance of how much his husband loves his body, loves him, all of him, soothing like warm tea and honey.

Ian keeps up his sensuous torment—fucking his fingers into him, spouting words both sweet and filthy into his ear—until Mickey’s legs can barely hold him up any longer.

Finally, Ian takes mercy on him. Reluctantly removes his digits, leaving Mickey empty, his cheeks clenching down hard in search of something, anything, to get that feeling back.

A strong hand wraps around his waist, stands him up, supporting most of his weight, and lowers both of them to the ground, Mickey coming to settle on his sore ass between Ian’s spread legs. Ian’s twitching cock presses against Mickey’s back, smearing wet slickness across his sweaty skin.

His tongue licks a heavy stripe up Mickey’s neck ending in sharp nibbles to his ear. “So fucking proud of my man,” whispered so soft Mickey’s not entirely sure he didn’t imagine it. But no, he didn’t. Ian’s just like that.

Then Ian’s flipping them, pinning Mickey on his back on the plush carpet—the first and only thing they’ve remodeled in the place.

Ian straddles him, hovering painfully close but not close enough over Mickey’s thighs. He stares down at him. Pupils blown. Lost to the sight.

Mickey’s body writhes beneath him, hips bucking sky high in an attempt to find something to grind against. Friction or pressure or fucking something before he implodes under Ian’s gaze.

“You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” Ian has the audacity to smirk at him. Like he isn’t torturing the man in the most beautiful of ways.

“Please. Please, Ian,” Mickey begs, his voice hoarse and shaking. Full of desire and lust and need he’s long since stopped trying to hide.

He loves his husband. Loves the way he makes him feel. There’s no shame in that.

Ian smiles. A devious thing. Victory.

Mickey doesn’t even care.

Then he dips his head, marking his way up Mickey’s body. A trail of both teeth and suction bruising over his stomach, his chest, even the soft underside of his arm, that ultra-sensitive spot Mickey never knew he loved until Ian explored every inch of him. Ian finishes up his warpath across his neck, leaving hickies Mickey knows he won’t be able to hide.

Mickey thinks briefly of the third graders Ian invited to tour the farm tomorrow. “Come on, Mick. We’ll make it educational. Gotta get the next generation interested if we’re gonna save the bees.” Hopefully, the swarm of eight-year-olds will believe the marks are bee stings. A simple workplace hazard.

Someone sure is a hazard around this workplace, alright.

Finally, Ian’s lips make it all the way to Mickey’s. Tongues tangle in search of that familiar taste.

Ian’s splayed out against him, the full length of their naked bodies pressed against each other. Mickey squirms, rutting his cock against Ian’s, but it’s not enough. He’s still so achingly empty he’s convinced his body will turn to dust if he doesn’t get his ass filled soon.

“Ian. I need— I need—” His brain is too lost to get the right words to his mouth, but Ian understands.

His husband reaches under Mickey’s weakened legs and helps him wrap them around his waist. He lines them up. Mickey’s nails dig into Ian’s back as he braces himself.

Then, Ian’s pounding into him in one swift motion. He sinks to the hilt on the first thrust, Mickey’s hole already so stretched and ready for him.

Mickey registers the feeling of the scream leaving his chest but can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. Finally. Filled. Perfectly. By the perfect one.

Ian keeps up the relentless rhythm—good and hard, just the way Mickey likes it—until Mickey’s close. Right back on that edge. He mutters incoherent sounds until Ian gets a hand on his dick and grants him that long-awaited orgasm in three solid strokes.

Fucking ecstasy right here on the office floor. Anywhere Ian is.

Ian drags his come-slick hand up Mickey’s chest, rubbing it into his skin. Mickey hisses, all the sensations too much on the comedown.

Ian slows his thrusts, not ready to separate just yet, but eases up on Mickey’s pleasure-wrecked body.

“God, I fucking love you.” Ian’s eyes lock on Mickey’s, boring through him as he rocks his cock inside his still pulsing hole. “Fucking perfect. No one else I’d want to do this with. All of this.”

And with that, Ian’s face screws up, his eyes slamming shut against his will as he spills inside of him.

Ian’s arms shudder, his elbows give, and he collapses on top of Mickey’s chest where they stay. It takes a solid minute for the buzzing in Mickey’s ears to fade out. For his vision to clear. The tingling in his fingers and toes to subside.

He swallows. His throat feels raw. Must have been too lost to realize just how loud he’d gotten. One of the perks of being out here in the boonies. Not that neighbors would stop Mickey anyhow. Nothing a shot of homegrown honey won’t soothe.

When they’ve finally recovered, Mickey crawls his way over to the desk and opens the bottom drawer. The one where they keep the financial shit Ian avoids at all costs.

He watches Ian’s face as Mickey pulls out the supplies he’d stashed there days ago when it looked like the deal might actually go through. A picnic blanket. A grocery bag of Pringles and Snickers bars. A couple joints, the good shit from their buddy’s farm. And, even though Mickey thinks it’s disgusting, a bottle of champagne because he knows Ian loves that kind of sappy crap.

Ian’s eyes well up, soft motherfucker, and he smiles.

“For the official celebration,” Mickey says, holding up the bottle.

“You…” Ian trails off, for once at a loss for words.

“Here,” Mickey grabs one last thing from the drawer. A packet of seeds. “Let’s go plant some fucking tomatoes. As many as you want.”

Ian grabs Mickey’s face. Presses their lips together again. But this time they’re soft and slow. An I love you and thank you.

Sweet as honey.

#little sweet. 🍯 little spice. 🌶#who knew we needed beekeeper!mickey in our lives?#content warning: excessive bee-related content 😂#fuck this went off the rails somewhere #but you know i can’t resist a good bee pun #i’m just sticking to your brand okay?!?!#sticking. like honey.#alright alright. i’m done now. i promise.#happy birthday sweet thing! hope you have the most excellent of days. 😘#shameless fanfic #gallavich fic #ian x mickey #squid words 🦑

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poguesholland · 3 years

Note

Hey could you write something for Harrison where you really like him but the last person you were with rejected you so your scared to tell him

“Fucking tell him already, Y/N” Tom groaned, cutting you off. He was sick of hearing you talk about Harrison over and over with no intention of acting on your feelings. This had been going on for a year now and all your friends were so done with this.

You let out a laugh, thinking Tom was being sarcastic. “Sure, Of course Tom, great idea” You spoke sarcastically only to look at Tom and realize that he wasn’t joking. Not the slightest bit. “Are you joking? There’s no way I could ever tell him. Not after what happened with Alex” You shook your head, the idea of Harrison ever finding out how you feel almost bringing you nightmares.

Alex was a guy you had liked last year. You two were the closest anyone could be and naturally, you developed feelings for him. Everyone thought that the feeling was mutual. But when you told Alex how you felt, he shot you down in the worst way possible. He broke you.

“You what?” Alex spits, as you began to feel like he wasn’t too happy about what you were saying. “I, I like you” You repeat, with less confidence this time. Alex shakes his head, raising his eyebrows with a look of frustration displayed on his face. “I can’t fucking believe this” He mumbles under his breath, hands going through his hair. You stand there, not really believing the way he was reacting right now.

“Alex-” You start but he cuts you off, “Just shut up!” He yells at you making you flinch. Alex grabs his stuff and quickly walks towards the door, his shoulder bumping into yours. “Why would you ruin this?” He asks, angry with you for ‘ruining’ your friendship. “You made me think you feel the same way! Don’t act like I’m some crazy bitch who likes you!” You retort. “How could I ever feel the same way about you?” Alex spits, and your heart dropped to the floor and he slammed the door.

“We both know Harrison would never do what Alex did, Y/N, if you don’t tell him I will”. You raise your eyebrows at Tom, believing that there was no way on Earth that what he was saying could be true. “The boys and I are sick and tired of hearing you bitch about how you much you like him, so if you don’t tell Harrison by the end of the week, I will.” Tom deadpanned and you turned as pale as a ghost.

Tom gets up from the table, making you scramble to get up and follow him. “Tom! Tom, you’re- No, you’re joking. Right? Tom, no!” You pleaded and he turned around to face you. A smirk plastered on his face as he saw the fear in your eyes. “Bye, Y/N” Tom leaned on to leave a kiss on your cheek as you froze in place, crossing your hands over each other. You raised the finger at him, only making him laugh.

How could you possibly tell Harrison how you felt? What would you even say? How could you deal with him not feeling the same way? What if it ruined your friendship? What if he laughed at you? But a little part of your brain thought the opposite, what if he felt the same way?

Three days go by and you were yet to say anything to Harrison. Tom and the boys were keeping a close eye on you, giving you a warning look when you two were alone and you left to avoid saying anything. They had been trying their best to make sure that you two were always left alone for as long as possible, in an attempt to give you as many opportunities as they could. But, alas, nothing worked.

“Tom, do you wanna help me get something from the kitchen?” Harry rushed as he quickly got up from the couch. Tom immediately followed, “Yeah! I need-Um, some ice, yeah ice”. Harrison looked at them skeptically and you gave them a death glare. Now it was just you and Harrison on the couch.

Harrison laughed lightly, “What’s up with those two divs?”. You forced a laugh, covering up the anxiousness you were feeling at that moment. “No idea” You raised your eyebrows, but Harrison could tell that you were acting weird. Your hands rub your arms, trying to rid yourself of the nervous goosebumps beginning to appear on your body from the tension between you two.

“Y/N, is everything-” He starts but you shoot up off of the couch. “I need some ice!” You stutter out, rushing to the kitchen only to be met with a glaring Tom and Harry. You walk past them like nothing was wrong but Harry gives you a smack on the head. “Ow! What the fuck, Harry!” You yelp in pain, clutching your head to try to relive it. “Tell him” They both whisper-yell at you before leaving, making you huff.

Every time you almost said something, you could genuinely feel your throat dry up and words would not come out of your mouth. But as those three days went by, you found yourself trying harder and harder to just spit it out.

Harrison didn’t know why you were being so distant lately. You two were always together, always sitting beside each other, always taking naps together, always going everywhere together, but that was not the case anymore.

You rested your head against the couch, sprawling your legs out in front of you. Harrison and you continue watching the movie intently, the popcorn he had made already finished while the movie had another hour to go.

Harrison shifts to find a comfortable position and is unsuccessful, so he turns to lay his head on your lap and put his legs up on the couch. This was how you always watched movies but as soon as Harrison did so, you shot up from your position feeling panicked.

Harrison’s head hits the couch making him groan, reaching a hand up to rub his head. He looks up to say something to you, but you were already long gone and out of sight. Hurt fills Harrison’s chest as he was now sure that something was up with you.

You unlock your door, walking into your shared apartment. Immediately, you take notice that your roommates were nowhere to be seen as you close the door. However, you were proven wrong when you walk into the kitchen to see Harrison, making you jump up. “Shit, Haz! You scared me!” You exclaim, putting a hand over your heart as you laugh. His heart hurt once he heard his nickname leave your mouth, it’s been days since you said his name. It was his favorite sound coming from you.

The laugh on your face quickly falters as Harrison doesn’t respond, not even making the effort to turn around to look at you. You furrow your eyebrows, “Hello?”. No response. You walk around the kitchen counter to stand next to him, but he continues cutting up the vegetables he was cooking. “Harrison?” You call out but he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge your presence.

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?” Your voice quiet as you watch him, not even phased by you talking to him. “Talk to me Haz, please?” You call out again and Harrison drops the knife on the cutting board, huffing in frustration. He turns to face you with an angry look on his face, making you even more confused.

Harrison raises his eyebrows, “So now you want to talk to me? No, I’m sorry, now you feel like talking to me?”. You look at him with confusion, “What? I always want to talk to you. What are you talking about?”. He shakes his head, crossing his arms in disbelief as he looks at you.

“Harrison?” You question him again when you don’t get an answer. “Don’t fucking Harrison me!” He yells in frustration but lowering his voice after he realized, “Just don’t”. Unintentionally, you flinch at his loud voice. You rest your elbow on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out what he was talking about and what got him so mad.

A huff of defeat escapes your lips, “What the hell are you talking about?”. Harrison clenches his jaw and bites the inside of his cheek. “You haven’t talked to me all week, you run away when I enter a room you’re in. As soon as we’re alone, you leave. You can’t even look me in my fucking eye, Y/N! And now you want to talk to me?”.

You immediately shut up, looking anywhere but at Harrison as you feel ashamed of yourself. Harrison moves closer towards you, looking into your eyes as you try to keep your composure, avoiding his eyes. He looks at you for any sign of a response, but shakes his head when he doesn’t get one. “I’m not fucking doing this right now” He mumbles under his breath, walking out of the kitchen.

“Tom told me I have to tell you about my feelings for you before the end of the week, or he will” You sigh, not sure if you even thought that whole sentence through before saying it. Harrison freezes in his place as he tries to register what you just said, there was no way. No, this didn’t make any sense.

He turns around to face you and your eyes meet, your eyes full of fear that this would be the end of your friendship. “I couldn’t talk to you all week. I- Um, I was too nervous to be around you and couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but here we are I guess” You ramble quietly as Harrison stares at you with a dumbfounded look.

“About your feelings for me..” Harrison tries to comprehend and you nod, waiting for any sort of response from him. His silence was killing you. “I didn’t want to do it, after what happened with Alex-” “Alex is a dick” Harrison retorts, his voice sour at the sound of his name. He absolutely hated him, even before he broke your heart. He hated him even more when you were crying into his chest every night about what Alex did.

He didn’t tell you this but as soon as Tom told him what happened, Harrison went to Alex’s apartment. All of Alex’s neighbors could hear Harrison yelling at him as Alex stood there, like a coward, trying not to cry. Harrison knew you would’ve gotten angry if he told you so he kept it to himself, and swore that any guy after that he would keep an eye out on.

You clear your throat, “Yeah- Um, that’s true. I just- I was scared that you would...”. Harrison continue the sentence for you, “I would do the same thing”. You don’t reply, knowing Harrison was hurt from that comment. “Y/N, I am nothing like Alex, okay? You know that, you know me” He speaks quietly, taking a few steps towards you and you nod.

Your hands grip the counter behind your back as you look at the boy in front of you, trying to digest the information you were saying. “Did Tom tell you why you should tell me?” Harrison asks with a bit of realization in his voice, confusing you. “No, Um- He just said I should tell you how I feel”. Harrison nods, a small smile making its way onto his face.

Staring at him blankly, you try to make sense of why he was smiling. You had just ruined your friendship, was he happy? Relieved? Harrison walks closer until his hands grip the counter behind you, only a few centimeters separating the two of you.

“Did Tom tell you that I feel the same way? That I’ve had feelings for you for almost three years now? That seeing you with any other guy broke my heart? That I wanted to kill Alex for what he did to you?” Harrison asks, his voice quiet. Your eyes widen, thinking that this had to be a joke.

Harrison’s hand slides to yours on the counter, holding it gently. “That I had no idea how he could lose such an amazing girl like you? That I thought he was crazy to not appreciate how lucky he was to have you?”. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. His hand slides up your arm, going to cup and caress your face slowly. You felt yourself shiver at his touch, almost like it was electricity.

“W-Why didn’t you-” “Tell you?” ,He continues and you nod, “Just thought that there was no way you felt the same about me”. You straighten your back, your chests now brushing against each other. “I would be crazy not to love you, Haz” You admit, and Harrison’s hand grips your tighter once you said those two words. “Y/N, be very careful with your words okay? I cant-” He shuts his eyes, leaning his forehead against yours as he tried to control himself.

Your fingers slip in between his, resting on the counter as Harrison opened his eyes. “I know” You state quietly, showing that you were being one hundred percent truthful. Harrison quickly leans forwards to push his lips against yours, making your breath get caught in your throat.

His lips move against yours in perfect sync as he moves closer to you, pressing you harder into the counter and his body. The hand on your cheek moves to your waist and grips it tightly, kissing you needily. A hand of yours goes to his chest to steady yourself.

You slow your lips against his before pulling away to catch your breath. Harrison licks his lips as he looks at you, admiring how beautiful you are. “I love you” He speaks up, and you look up at him. A shy smile finds its way to your face as you bring your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I love you too” You whisper against his lips and feel him smile. You lean in to kiss him before both of you smile into the kiss, breaking it.

Harrison brings you in to hug you tightly, holding you so softly, like you were made of glass. You rest your head in the crook of his neck as you take in his warmth. “Holy shit! Tom what did I tell you! Both of you divs owe me a hundred each!” Paddy yells, startling both of you. You move your head to see Tom, Harry and Paddy looking at the two of you, only making you hide your flushed face once again.

“Finally told him, did you? Wonder who gave you that idea” Tom teases and you whine, making Harrison laugh. He holds you close to him before slightly turning around to face the guys, mouthing an excited ‘yes’ and pumping his fist to the air. You feel Harrison shoo them out of the kitchen, just wanting to be with you.

Harrison’s arms hook under your thighs and lift you up, making a squeal leave your lips. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks towards his bedroom. “No fucking while we’re in the house!” Harry yells making you yell at him, “Harry!”. Harrison only laughs at the two of you and shakes his head, “Only been twenty minutes and you already made a dirty joke, Harry”.

“Ignore him, love” Harrison mumbles against your cheek as you giggle. The nickname makes butterflies appear in your stomach. You were grateful that your friends had pushed you to tell Harrison how you felt. Because what else would you need other than this?

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