#I just have to survive this year and then it’ll go away again

[hotfunyunsz]

How do I completely obliterate my need for love because I can’t go on like this.

[absdoll]

drug dealer! ellie!! reader’s brother is a usual customer of hers but he’s busy or whatever so he asks reader to go pick it up 😈🤭

cw: car sex ♡ , kinda player!ellie , mentions of weed & smoking it , strap sucking (e!rev) , strap sitting (r!rec) <3 that’s it !

also songs are linked throughout this , just to add to the dealer!ellie hot car sex ambiance hehe ♡

“dude, can you stop being such a fucking baby and just go?!�� your brother hisses at you, frantically packing for his soccer match. “if i get home from this game and i don’t have anything to smoke, i’m beating your ass.” he rolls his eyes as he walks out of the door, “i’ll text you her address and let her know you’re coming, don’t fuck this up.”

ellie. ellie williams. ellie auburnettetattedsofuckinghot williams. the scrawny masc you’ve had a crush on since junior year of high school. you’ve maybe said 5 words to each other, in passing when she glares at you with her hazel eyes, making you squeeze your thighs together. “sup?” she’ll nonchalantly throw at you, not knowing you go home and ride your fingers to the sound of her voice.

your phone buzzes as you’re about to get in your car, an unknown number.

8:29pm “yooo, u on the way? i got somewhere to be”

“ohmyfuckinggod” you mutter under your breath. you manically type a response, not even thinking before pressing send.

8:31pm “yeah! be there soon sorry!”

8:34pm “all good cutie”

the butterflies in your stomach are swarming. as if you weren’t already nervous to face your going on 4 year crush, she just … flirted..? with you? it’ll be a miracle if you even survive the drive over there.

you pull up to an apartment complex, the 3rd floor balcony lit up with purple LED lights. your phone buzzes again.

8:59pm “this u?”

you look back up to the balcony, now seeing a lanky figure in a black tank top, grey sweatpants, batman socks, and a black beanie leaning over the railing. she nods her head up at you, and you can just hear her silky smooth voice saying “sup?”, but this time you can’t relieve the pressure between your legs.

9:00pm “do i come up there or??”

it’s been 5 minutes since you sent that text.

before you know it, there’s a subtle knock on ur passenger window. it’s dark outside, no streetlights in the parking lot, but you knew it was ellie. you unlock the door, and she dips her head in, slouching down into the seat next to you.

ellie smirks, eyeing you up and down, noticing the way your thighs erupt in goosebumps at her stare. you’re wearing black denim shorts and a black tube top, ellie’s eyes immediately falling to your collarbones.

“it’s $35” she says in a low tone, handing you a sealed ziploc bag.

your fingertips touch her hand as you grab it from her, causing you to choke on your words, “c-cool, thanks” you smile at her, feeling like your nerves are gonna make you pass out at any second.

ellie’s so calm and collected, watching you nervously fumble with your wallet trying to retrieve the cash your brother gave you. and god, she smells so good. her scent is intoxicating. vanilla mixed with musk and sugar and leather.

all of a sudden you feel her hand fall on your thigh. “nervous or something?” she teases. she grabs at the jelly flesh with one hand and pulls a joint out of her pocket with her right hand. you audibly let a big sigh fall from your mouth when her hand leaves to light her joint. ellie passes the burning paper to you, and you don’t smoke so you’re just holding it, contemplating to make yourself look cool by taking a puff. she’s adjusting her sweatpants — and that’s when you notice it. the thick bulge outlined in her pants, her eyes fluttering up to yours.

“wanna sit on it?” she chuckles, grabbing the joint from your hand. you can’t tell if she’s serious or not, so you just giggle back.

“open up.” ellie takes a long drag, yellowish smoke filling her mouth.

you’re confused, but in an effort to not embarrass yourself, you open your mouth. ellie’s face now inches away from yours, her eyes staring deep into your nervous gaze. she blows the thick smoke into your mouth, “inhale.” she whispers.

within a minute, your nerves have subsided and you feel lighter. ellie watches as you shift in your seat, putting your hands under your thighs. “are you cold? i’m cold. do you care if i turn the a/c off?” you ramble at ellie. she smirks, “first time smoking?”

you roll your eyes at her, the car quieter now without the buzz of the air conditioning. “you ever heard of a hotbox?” ellie says, shifting her body towards you. you shake your head ‘no’ and ellie just giggles. “c’mere” she motions for you to sit on her lap.

“w-what? why?” you spit out, embarrassed immediately.

“your eyes haven’t left my crotch since you noticed my cock that’s tucked in my pants. if you want it, jus’ c’mere.” she hits the joint again, blowing smoke towards your face.

she adjusts her seat, making room by her feet for you sit on the floor. you’re on your knees, looking up at her with reddened eyes.

“go ‘head, take it out” she lowly mutters to you, not even looking at you, she’s preoccupied by trying to connect her bluetooth to your car speaker.

your shaky hands move to the band of her sweatpants, sliding them down just enough for her purple, curved, silicone strap to plop out onto her lap.

her eyes dart to yours, grinning at the look of amazement on your face.

ellie uses one hand to wrap around the back of your neck, guiding your head closer to her crotch, the other hand twisting the volume nozzle up, speakers blaring. “open your mouth angel” she breathes out. as your lips part, she swipes her thumb across your bottom pout, slipping the tip of her cock towards the back of your throat. her hand moves up to grab a fistful of your hair, “gooooood, good job baby” she praises.

as ellie bobs your head up and down, you start moaning around her girth. “mmm you like this baby? like my cock deep in your throat? dirty girl.” you nod up at her, causing her to throw her head back.

ellie’s one hand atop your head, other hand typing on her dimly lit phone screen. “gotta make this quick, told you i had somewhere to be.” she throws her phone into the backseat, moving both hands to the back of your neck. her thrusts are quick and steady, grunts falling from her chapped lips.

“mm fuck, you’re drooling b-baby” she half chuckles and half stutters, the base of her strap striking her clit. “uuuuuhhh fuuuuuck” she breathes out.

“f-fuck, get on top.” ellie grabs you by your hair, hands moving to your hips, setting you down slowly on her long, wet member.

“o-ooh s-shit-uuhhhh” you moan out, the feeling of her thickness sliding deep inside you. her hands still groping your ass, slamming you up and down on her length. “bounce on it baby.” she grunts out as she pulls your tube top down, revealing your fatty tits.

ellie moves her hands to behind her head. watching as your boobs slap against your chest. your moans barely audible as the rap song fills the car, “lemme hear you, l-louder” she’s doing little to no work, her hips every once and awhile bucking up into you, which causes you to yelp and ellie lets out a chuckle.

“mm-ahh ellieeeeuuhhggh” “f-feels s’fucking gooduuuhhh” you’re practically screaming at this point, ellie’s eyes filled with darkness and lust, just watching as you fuck yourself on her cock.

your legs start to shake, inner thighs sore from relentlessly pounding your pussy on ellie’s strap. “need help baby?” ellie wraps her arms around your waist, lifting her hips up. she stops her movements, grinning as you whine from sudden lack of friction.

ellie stuffs her cock deep inside you, watching her girth move in and out of you, agonizingly slow. “m-more ellie p-please” you’re whining and she takes it as her cue to vigorously thrust up into you.

“ommm-mm-g-go-god-dduuuhhh” with every slam of ellie’s hips, your moans get louder.

you start cumming all over ellie’s cock, her dark red bush covered in your slick.

your high is dizzying, you open your eyes in a tired, fucked out state to see ellie, again, typing a text on her phone.

she pats your ass, “that was hot baby, but i gotta go.” as you slide yourself off her lap, falling into your seat and pulling your shorts back up, ellie goes to open the car door. “tell your brother you’ll pick up for him more often.” she tuts with a grin.

you feel your whole face start to burn as she slams the door and walks away.

did that just happen?

a/n : hi hi ♡ i’m well aware this isn’t the best , i’ve mentioned i’m struggling to write lately & it shows ! i’m proud of the concept & whatnot , just bad writing gdjdhjsjs . anyways i need to bounce on ellie’s strap rn u don’t understand .

🌙 @whore4abby @enbesbians @hersweetheart 🌙

[moonstruckme]

vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human. 

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.” 

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving. 

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.” 

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit. 

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now. 

“Can we do that?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.” 

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.” 

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?” 

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap. 

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.” 

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared. 

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.” 

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly. 

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you. 

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can. 

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral. 

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.” 

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.” 

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.” 

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.” 

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting. 

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.” 

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.” 

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.” 

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.” 

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.” 

[lvrsatoru]

╭ pairing ⸺ gojo satoru x reader

╭ drabble ⸺ 1.8k, before his final fight with sukuna, gojo reunites with someone he thought had been long gone </3 sorry in advance luvs

𐙚 december 24th, age 28

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

his mind loops over the thought, unable to process it, unable to accept it. his six eyes tell him it’s real—she’s real—every fiber of his being tuned to the cursed energy signature he knows better than his own.

but it can’t be.

because he was 23 when he kissed her goodbye for the last time. because he was 23 when he got the call, when he read the report, when he stared at the empty space where her body should’ve been.

because forever had lasted less than a year.

and yet—

“satoru,” she whispers, hesitant, careful.

his name in her voice sends a violent shudder through him.

his infinity is still up. she hasn’t touched him. she can’t.

but he feels her anyway.

it’s muscle memory, instinct. his body still reacts to her, still leans toward her even as his mind tells him to run.

he doesn’t.

but he doesn’t move forward, either.

she takes another slow step, like she’s afraid he’ll bolt.

“you look different,” she says, soft but teasing, a poor attempt at levity.

his throat is too tight to respond.

her gaze drifts over him, and the weight of it makes his skin prickle, makes him aware of how much he has changed.

his hair is shorter now, with the undercut he gave himself one night, after she’d left. he’s leaner, stronger, his body hardened by war and loss and time.

but she—she looks like she’s lived, like she has known something beyond grief and battle and the never-ending ache of survival.

and it makes him feel sick.

like she’s had years he wasn’t a part of. like she kept going while he stood still.

like the dead had the audacity to age.

“where the hell have you been?” his voice comes out strangled, hoarse, barely a whisper.

her expression shifts, guilt flashing across her face before she can hide it.

“satoru—”

“where have you been?” louder, harsher this time.

she flinches.

and it kills him, because she’s not supposed to flinch at him.

she takes another step forward, cautious, careful.

his infinity is still up.

she stops.

“you’re not real,” he says flatly, more to himself than to her.

she blinks, startled. “what?”

“you’re not real. you’re a trick. a clone. a shapeshifter. an illusion.” he lists them off mechanically, like if he keeps saying it, it’ll become the truth.

but his six eyes don’t lie.

and neither does the ache in his chest.

she swallows, and for the first time, he sees the fear in her eyes.

but it’s not fear of him.

it’s fear for him.

he hates it.

he hates that she still looks at him like that. like he’s something fragile, like she’s worried he’s about to fall apart.

because he is.

he is, and she knows it.

she’s always known.

“satoru, it’s me,” she says, voice softer now, and god, it sounds like home.

he shakes his head.

no.

no, no, no, no

this is cruel.

this is so fucking cruel.

“you died,” he says, as if saying it aloud will make it true again.

her face crumples, and he has to look away, has to stare at the ground because if he meets her eyes, he’s going to break.

“i had to leave,” she whispers.

his jaw clenches.

“you left,” he repeats, voice hollow.

she hesitates. “i—”

“you left.”

his infinity flickers.

just for a second.

just long enough for her to step forward, just enough for her to lift a hand to his face—

just enough for her fingers to brush against his skin.

he shatters.

the breath rushes out of him like he’s been struck. his legs feel weak. his hands, which have been clenched into fists, loosen, tremble.

her hand is warm, so impossibly warm.

it has been five years since someone has touched him like this.

since she has touched him like this.

he wants to pull away, wants to shove her back and demand why, why, why, why she thought she had the right to do this, to touch him, to stand here in front of him like she hadn’t been a ghost for half a decade.

but he doesn’t.

he can’t.

he leans into it instead, his face tilting into her palm like it’s instinct, like he has no choice in the matter.

and maybe he doesn’t

maybe he never has.

“you left,” he whispers, softer this time, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

“i’m sorry.”

it’s so quiet he barely hears it.

but he feels it.

feels the tremor in her hand, the way her thumb brushes against his cheekbone, the way her fingers tighten against his skin like she’s afraid he might slip away.

like he’s the ghost.

“you left me,” he repeats, because it’s the only thing he can hold onto, the only thing that makes sense in all of this.

“i know.”

“you—” his voice breaks, and he hates himself for it, hates the way his shoulders shake, hates the way he can’t stop leaning into her.

her forehead rests against his, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breath coming out shaky and uneven.

“i know,” she whispers again, her voice cracking.

his hands move on their own, gripping her waist, holding her there.

he shouldn’t.

he shouldn’t.

but he does.

he clutches her like she might disappear again, like she might slip through his fingers if he lets go.

she wraps her arms around him.

and that’s when he breaks.

a sound leaves him—something between a sob and a laugh, something raw and guttural and helpless—and he buries his face in her shoulder, his whole body trembling.

she smells the same.

she feels the same.

but everything else is different.

he is different.

“i thought i was getting better,” he breathes. “i thought i—I thought I was moving on.”

“i know,” she says, holding him tighter.

“i wasn’t.”

“i know.”

he swallows, his throat tight, his hands clenching at the fabric of her clothes.

“i still love you,” he admits, and it feels like surrender, like defeat.

she exhales, a shaky, broken thing, and pulls back just enough to cup his face again.

“i still love you too,” she whispers.

it’s unfair.

it’s so fucking unfair.

because she’s here.

but she won’t be for long.

and he’s about to die.

they stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, both afraid to let go. he clings to her, hands curled into the fabric at her waist, like if he holds on tight enough, time will stop, and none of this will matter.

but he knows better.

time has never been kind to him.

“you have to go, don’t you?” he murmurs.

she stiffens.

he pulls back just enough to look at her, to search her face for answers, and god—he hates that she looks guilty.

“tell me,” he says, voice quiet but firm.

she bites her lip, hesitates.

and that alone is enough to set him off.

he pulls back entirely now, hands falling from her like she’s burned him.

“don’t,” he snaps. “don’t look at me like that. like you already know how this ends.”

“satoru—”

“don’t.”

she exhales, looks away.

and fuck, it’s happening again, isn’t it? she’s leaving again.

“why?” he demands. “why now? why show up just to—” he stops himself before he can say it, before he can put words to the fear clawing at his throat.

just to leave me again.

she steps forward again, hesitant, like she’s unsure if she’s still allowed.

but his infinity is still down.

he hates himself for it.

“there are things i can’t tell you,” she says finally, and he wants to scream.

“that’s bullshit.”

her jaw tightens. “it’s the truth.”

he laughs, sharp and humorless, runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“i spent five years thinking you were dead,” he says, voice low, almost trembling. “five years, and you come back just to—just to what? tell me there are things you can’t tell me? give me some cryptic half-truths and expect me to accept it?”

“it’s not that simple.”

“it never is with you.”

she winces.

it makes him feel sick.

“do you think this is easy for me?” she asks, voice cracking.

he stares at her, and for the first time since he’s seen her again, he lets himself really look.

her hair is longer, her face a little older. she carries herself differently now, like someone who’s had to live a life she never wanted.

it hits him then—she didn’t want this, either.

but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“why did you come back?” he asks, quiet now, all the fight drained out of him.

she takes a shaky breath.

“because you’re about to fight sukuna,” she says.

his stomach drops.

he had almost forgotten.

almost.

the weight of the truth settles in his chest.

she came back because she knows.

“you think I’m going to lose,” he says flatly.

her eyes are glassy, but she doesn’t deny it.

his breath catches.

“i don’t—” he swallows, shakes his head. “i don’t know how to do this.”

she reaches for him again, and this time, he lets her.

her fingers trail over his cheek, down his jaw, feather-light and devastating.

“neither do i,” she whispers.

and suddenly, he hates her for this.

for coming back, for giving him this sliver of something just to take it away again.

but he can’t be angry.

because she’s here.

she’s here.

and it’s the cruelest thing the universe has ever done to him.

“stay,” he says, and it’s not a demand—it’s a plea.

she swallows hard, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“i can’t.”

his hands tighten on her waist, his chest aching so badly he can hardly stand it.

“please.”

she shakes her head, her own tears slipping free now.

“i can’t,” she says again, and it shatters him.

he presses his forehead to hers, closes his eyes, breathes her in.

because this is all he gets.

a stolen moment before the end.

she holds him just as tightly.

“i love you,” she whispers.

his breath hitches.

“i still love you,” she says, voice breaking. “i never stopped.”

his chest cracks open at that, something deep inside him splintering beyond repair.

his grip tightens, fingers digging into her like he can carve her into his skin, like he can keep her here.

he doesn’t say it back.

because it’s never been a question.

because of course he loves her.

of course he does.

he always has.

he always will.

but she’s already slipping away.

and he lets her go.

[lisired]

dead men tell no tales

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, gun usage, descriptions of death and violence

summary: five years ago, you were part of a unit assigned to eliminate the head rival of a crime syndicate. the plan backfired miserably. ever since you have been laying low, but then your former boss calls you with alarming news.

word count: 23k

a/n: part 1/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Maybe it was only your paranoid instincts, but from the minute you woke up, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about today was very, very off. 

Though to be fair, you always had that feeling. Nowhere was too safe. You were constantly glimpsing over your shoulder and bouncing across the globe to evade potential predators that wanted to stain the walls with your blood. Your mind was always screaming. 

Until you met Johnny, that is. There was something about him that put you at ease from the moment you met eight months ago at a hotel poolside. He was just so damn easygoing and chill. The world could be burning and Johnny would still find a way to make you laugh, as if nothing was ever wrong.  

He was an American nomad, bred of admirable spontaneity, which gave you the perfect excuse to wander without him asking any important questions. Johnny spent months courting you relentlessly and whisking you away on trips all over the world. But it wasn’t his money that drew you to him. You were more interested in his uncanny ability to subdue the monsters in your head. 

You didn’t know how or why, but the cacophony of screams died when you were with Johnny. The reckless, heaving water became gentle waves crashing against the shoreline. 

Now here you were, in some lavish hotel in Monaco with the entire Mediterranean sea right outside your balcony, and you had never been happier. Your whole relationship with Johnny consisted of taking vast trips together. He wasn’t in any rush to settle down and you didn’t have that privilege, though you’d made it abundantly clear you were committed to each other. 

Johnny didn’t want to come on too strong. Getting to know one another was a slow and steady process, given that neither of you were none too forthcoming, but Johnny was adamant on learning all there was to know about you. And to your surprise, he had been moderately successful. 

But there was one tiny secret you never let slip. 

Johnny was snuggling up to you like a baby bear, which was ironic considering the sheer size of him, and it was the cutest thing ever. “I love traveling the world with you,” he mumbled into your neck. 

“One day, it’ll be ours,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. 

“I don’t want it. I’d give it all to you.”

You snorted and joked, “And let me be solely responsible for all of its ugly? No thank you. I’d prefer we share custody.”

Johnny laughed. Before he could come up with another response, there was a knock at the door of your luxury suite. You glanced towards him, startled. “Did you invite company?” you asked. 

“No, but I did tell my boss where he could find me if anything important came up at work,” Johnny said quietly, apparently as confused as you were. “I’ll get the door.”

You didn’t want to let him go. Most of your life had been spent in shady hotels and you never answered an unknown visitor without a gun. Your survival instincts flared up again, but it wasn’t only yourself that you feared for now. Sometimes you wondered if you were selfishly putting him at risk. 

Any friend of yours was an enemy of your enemies. You had seen them come and go, temporary like everything else in your life, but Johnny was different. You wanted him to stay. 

Almost immediately after Johnny stood to answer the door, tugging his shirt back over his head, your phone began ringing on the nightstand. You recognized the contact and pressed the phone to your ear. “Hey, Doie. What’s up?”

“Are you around anyone?”

Between the curtness of his question and the sharpness in his tone, you couldn’t decide which baffled you more. “Yes. Why?”

“Keep your face straight and your voice level,” Doyoung said sternly. “Can you get away from them?”

You glanced up at Johnny. He’d returned from the door by now with an envelope in hand, watching you with furrowed brows. “Yes.”

“Do it now.”

With a few seconds delay so as to not raise too much suspicion, you rose from the bed and mouthed to Johnny, “Business stuff.” Then you excused yourself to the balcony. 

Johnny nodded in understanding. 

When the balcony door was shut behind you, you spoke up again. “I did what you asked, but I’m at a hotel. He’s nearby.”

“I know,” was all Doyoung said. 

That did nothing but strengthen your bewilderment. “What do you mean by you know?”

Doyoung cut to the chase. He sounded perturbed. “Listen to me very carefully. Margo was killed this morning.”

You gawked. “What?”

“Single shot to the back of the neck. Close distance. No sniper.”

Despite the humid weather outside, the most aggressive shudder shot down your spine. “We can’t be certain that has anything to do with us,” you said, but it was obvious you hadn’t even convinced yourself. 

“I’m certain.”

The balcony door opened and you jolted, but tried to regain your composure when you realized it was only Johnny. “My bad,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m getting my letter opener.”

You nodded, smiling thinly at him. There was no way in hell you wanted to give away the nature of the phone call you were currently having. “How come?”

Doyoung explained, “Sol was killed two weeks ago. He opened a laced letter. Invisible powder. Nobody knew until today because they assumed he was on vacation. You know how he likes to go off-grid. He never even saw it coming.”

“Fuck,” you grumbled under your breath, although Johnny had already slipped back inside as quickly as he’d come. 

“Dispose of your cellphone as soon as possible,” Doyoung instructed, naturally falling back into his position as your supervisor. “Do you remember the location?”

Glancing around, you searched for signs of suspicious activity. It felt like you were being watched. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Of course.”

“Get a burner and message me from that number when you get close. This phone will still be active. I’ll meet you there. Do you copy?”

“Yes,” you said, chilled by that tone. You hadn’t heard it in five years. Not since your last mission together. 

Doyoung hung up. He was curt and to the point like that. When danger was imminent, there was no time to waste on niceties. This was not your friend Doyoung you’d come to know, but the cold leader of a formidable undercover unit. 

Then a thought came to your mind and you rushed back inside the hotel room, immediately finding Johnny and frantically asking, “Did you open the envelope?”

Johnny’s eyes flickered. “No, but I was about to. Why?”

“Don’t touch it. Please.”

Johnny obliged, but he was catching on. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

Rather than answer, you paraded over to your nightstand and retrieved a gun from beneath a stack of magazines in the drawer. Maybe you were considerably less paranoid than before, but you weren’t a dumbass. You still had enemies that would pay a pretty penny to have your head on a stick. 

Johnny gawked at the weapon in your hand, presumably loaded. “Baby, what the hell?”

“So, change of plans,” you started, grabbing your suitcase and hurling it onto the bed, and began to toss your belongings inside. There weren’t many. This life had taunted you never to pack more than what you needed. “We’re going to the United States.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happening,” Johnny replied sternly, coming to your side. “Why do you have a gun?”

A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes winced closed. This was the day you had always feared; the one where the time would come for your darkness to come to light. Johnny admired you for the pretty little image of yourself you’d painted in front of him. You weren’t ready for him to see you for who you really were. 

What you really were. 

Johnny pressed his forehead against yours, sensing the distress bubbling within you. He was tender and loving, even in a moment like this. Something more than you deserved. “Look at me.”

You obliged him. Without hesitation. No one thought it would be possible to tame you, but here you were, willingly submitting to a man. Hell must have frozen over. 

Johnny brushed a hand through your hair gingerly, not wanting to startle you away, like you were some new animal adjusting to a stranger. “I don’t know what you might’ve done and what you might’ve seen, but none of that matters to me. I care about you. That will never change,” he told you in a whisper. 

God, you wanted to believe him. It would have made things easier, being able to confide in him about all of the haunting horrors. You shook your head, overpowering your own tears. “Johnny, you don’t understand. I’ve done unforgivable things.”

Johnny’s voice was saccharine. “Then make me understand. Help me help you.”

“I wish it was that easy,” you mumbled, pulling away. You had to finish packing and relocate right now. 

Your stubbornness was nothing new to Johnny, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient. That said, he could sense the urgency of whatever predicament you had somehow landed yourself in, and started grabbing his things. He sighed, relenting. “How soon do we need to be in the United States?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I know a guy that knows a guy who has a jet,” Johnny told you, quickly folding something to toss into his suitcase. “He can get us there in half a day, maybe less.”

You paused in your tracks, considering your options. There was this unspoken arrangement about your relationship with Johnny. Your inexplicable connections that conveniently helped you out of each other’s dilemmas. But you never pressed him about it, because you couldn’t afford him asking you questions either. 

Out of curiosity’s sake, you asked, “What’s his name?”

“Jaehyun.”

That name rang no bells, but you would’ve been more alarmed if you even vaguely recognized it. “Okay. Call him, but be quick about it.” The people hunting me waste no time. 

Johnny did as told, swiftly taking his phone out of his pocket and heading into the bathroom to make a call. 

With the last of your things zipped away in your suitcase, you had no choice but to sit there waiting for something to happen, which was not your favorite hobby ever. There were stories, in the underworld, of snipers that could stay awake for days waiting on the perfect opportunity to eliminate their subs. 

Johnny crossed your mind again and you shuddered, worries heightening. You glanced over at the letter. It had been addressed to him, not you, however, that only made you assume your hunters had something worse in store for you. Something darker. 

Though on the other hand, it made you hyper aware of the darkness you had sucked Johnny into solely by associating with him. Your boyfriend was now a liability, exactly as you’d feared, but you refused to leave him to fend for himself. They had made plain that they knew what he was worth to you and you’d be damned if you let him die for the sake of your survival. 

The assassins tracking down your unit like prey weren’t bunglers and there was no doubt that they’d be coming after you next. You had spent months studying the intricacies of the assignment and attempting to comprehend their behavior. Every breakthrough brought you closer to confirming the identity of the leader until it was all suddenly over. 

Someone snitched. You still didn’t know who for certain, but you doubted they were a member of the original seven proxies assigned to the unit. Four of them were dead. There were only three of you left, as far as you knew. 

Thus you did everything in your power to lay low and make yourself even more elusive. You were ever on the move, denying yourself the freedom that came with becoming too comfortable. Then, you met Johnny this year in February, on a mission in Long Beach. He had been a normal guy at some fancy hotel, never meant to be more than one night of drunken fun. So you were pleasantly surprised when one night became eight months. 

And even more so when you subsequently forfeited your career. You hadn’t fully recovered from that life and you doubted you ever would, but Johnny made it easier to live with your unjustifiable mistakes. He saw something in you that no one else did. Not even yourself. 

If only you knew what. 

Johnny emerged from the bathroom, the sound of the door opening drawing your attention to him. “Good news,” he started, heading for the bed. “He’s available. It should be ready for us when we get there.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you said, tucking away your gun. 

If Johnny had any more questions, and you knew full well he did, he still didn’t ask. 

Like Johnny had said, the private jet was waiting for the two of you when you arrived and you hurriedly climbed aboard. They knew where you were. Why they hadn’t taken you out when they had the chance was a mystery, but you decided to count your blessings. You were (for now) still alive and that was all that mattered. 

You tried to get some sleep, given that you would be up and flying for a good minute, but to no avail. You usually found plane rides oddly peaceful, but there were a million thoughts in your mind vying for your attention all at once. It was all you could do not to think about your hidden career. 

It had its perks, the coin stained in other people’s blood, and the companionship of a few of the friends you’d met along the way, but most people in the underworld were not exactly affable and there was always a fear in the back of your mind that one day it would be you who died for the gain of another. 

Johnny laced his fingers through yours and you glanced over at him. “Talk to me,” he murmured, sweet as ever.  

You shook your head. You had met many perceptive people in your lifetime, but Johnny took the cake. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Johnny said, reaching for your other hand and also taking it in his. “You can talk to me about anything.”

You glimpsed down at your intertwined hands, then back up at his deep brown eyes. They were too damn discerning. “There’s something about me you don’t know.”

Johnny said nothing, but those words made him raise a brow. He was silently gesturing for you to continue, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

God dammit, was he trying to disarm you? Because it was working. You hated how easy it was for him to render you vulnerable. You - the most formidable of proxies this generation had ever known. 

The thought made you laugh, which Johnny obviously wasn’t expecting. You shook your head and explained, “I’m shocked you haven’t left me. Most people would have wanted no parts the second they saw the strap.”

“Can I hold it?”

You burst into laughter again. Like hell. “You want me to give you a loaded weapon? I don’t know what you know. That’s like giving a bomb to a baby.”

Johnny chuckled, but he sobered almost immediately after, loosely draping an arm over your shoulder. “Hey, for the record, it’s gonna take a lot more than a gun to make me wanna leave you. I’m crazy about you,” he confessed, whispering. “And the way I see it, you’re a little crazy all on your own.”

You grinned, appreciating the way he could say something serious and make you giggle in the same minute. “Maybe I am.” 

“By the way,” Johnny began gingerly, as if one wrong move would startle you away. Which wasn’t too far off. “Why didn’t you want me to touch that letter earlier?”

The amusement quickly fell from your lips and the change was not lost on Johnny. The space around you was virtually silent till you willed yourself to murmur, “I think it was laced.”

Johnny blinked in shock. “Laced? Like that Amerithrax shit?”

You shrugged. “Something like that. I don’t think it’s anthrax, but whatever it is, it’s just as deadly. Killed someone I know just from opening it. I got the call about his death this morning.”

“Damn, baby,” Johnny said with a wince, taken aback. “What did he do to deserve that?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled under your breath.

It was obvious you didn’t intend on elaborating any further than you already had and Johnny didn’t press, especially became a more jarring thought came. “But the letter was addressed to me,” he pointed out, clearly confused. “Not to you.”

“I know. They don’t want to kill me off immediately, for whatever reason.” 

“That means you’re special, I guess.” 

A chill shot down your spine. You already knew, but him saying it aloud made it true. For some inexplicable reason, they wanted to play the long game with you by watching you suffer. 

“I’m sleepy,” you said. A lie, but a convenient one. You wanted to be alone in your thoughts a little longer. “I think I’ll rest my eyes.”

Johnny chuckled. “For only a few seconds, I’m guessing?”

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Johnny whispered, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the temple of your forehead. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Night, Johnny,” you murmured.

After a few moments of thinking of the unthinkable future, you eventually tormented yourself to sleep, waking up some hours later with your head on Johnny’s shoulder. You wholeheartedly blamed him. He was holding your hand delicately, caressing the back of it the entire time. Almost like he knew you needed it. 

You weren’t as relieved as you thought you would be when you touched down in the United States. Ironically, you felt less exposed to danger thousands of feet above the ocean than you did on American soil. Johnny was turning you soft. You’d rather be somewhere in his arms. 

The safe house you would be holing up in until further notice was given to you by one of your trusted American contacts. It wasn’t particularly easy to find, which was a nuisance for you today, but something you would undoubtedly be grateful for later on. The place was a far cry from luxurious, but it was low-key, and that was enough to keep you happy. 

“Ah. Feels just like home,” Johnny said with a bucket load of sarcasm.

Dragging your luggage inside, your shoulders shook as you laughed. “I’ve gotta make a call.” Then, you nudged his side gently and quipped, “Be a good boy and don’t talk to any strangers while I’m gone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny chirped obediently. 

You entered the kitchen. It was small, cramped. Not that you would be doing much eating when you were stressed like this. You grabbed the burner phone you’d picked up on the way and dialed a number from memory, hoping you wouldn’t be too late. 

The phone rang for a while. You almost thought that nobody would answer, for a multitude of reasons, until you finally heard a chary, “Who’s this?”

“Mark.” You sighed in relief. “Thank god. It’s me. Are you holding up okay?”

“So you got that call too, huh?” Mark asked, though it was obvious. You had no other reason to be calling. You didn’t mean to be distant, but it was not often you reached out to your former co-workers. 

But it was still good to hear his voice. With two of your other co-workers gone one week after the other, it was clear they were hunting each of you down one by one. “I got it last night,” you replied, exhaling through your nose. “This morning, technically. Monaco is seven hours ahead of Illinois.”

You could hear movement in the background, like he was actively packing his things with his ear pressed to his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m leaving Canada. I should get over there in a couple of hours. I was actually just about to toss this phone. You have great timing.”

That surprised you. Mark was the opposite of you, feeling safer in one place that felt like home rather than never getting too comfortable anywhere. “You’re not staying in Toronto? You haven’t left in years.”

“They killed my sister,” Mark hissed. You could hear the hurt in his voice, the bite in his tone. He was who you were worried about most. “I know that I’m probably being led into a kill box, but I can’t just stay here. I’ll put a bullet in her killer’s head myself by the time this shit blows over.”

“Mark,” you started, but you knew there was no use. 

Mark said your name sternly. “I already made up my mind. I’m on my way. I should be seeing you and Doyoung later.”

You blew out a breath. “Okay. Get here safe. Please.”

“I will,” he said reassuringly. “Be as careful as you can, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Wait.”

You were just about to hang up when he spoke those words in the nick of time. “Yes?”

Mark’s tone was accustory, “Your boytoy’s with you. Isn’t he?”

You stifled a sigh. There it was, the cons of being buddies with proxies as good at their jobs as you were. “He’s at risk. They sent him the envelope. Not me. They will hurt him to get to me.”

“Maybe,” Mark said, obviously none too convinced by that possibility. “Or maybe it’s a setup. You could be his sub.”

Glancing around the area to make sure Johnny was out of earshot, you whispered, “Mark, I’ve given my life to this field and the sick people infesting it. He’s as normal as they get.”

“Is he?”

“Mark,” you snapped. 

Mark let it die. “Fine. But you better be in one piece next time I see you, or it’s him I’m going after.”

Well, there was no use in arguing with him when he used that tone. It firmly indicated that he meant business. “Don’t worry,” you said softly, glimpsing around again. “Bye, Mark.”

When the call was over, you slipped the burner into your pocket and braced yourself for your next task. You had to make sure this place was secure enough to hold you for the upcoming nights. 

Nine years in the industry had taught you that there was no such thing as being too safe and it was always in your best interest to be virtually untraceable. You double checked every window, making sure they were all locked. You also clocked a number of potential exits and noted all of your options. 

It was borderline impossible to rest knowing that your life was at stake, and you damn sure wouldn’t make yourself an easy kill. If somebody really wanted you dead, they had their work cut out for them. You had spent too much time building up your power to let it be snatched out of your hands without a fight. 

With the house taken care of, you could breathe a little easier in relief. You took out the burner and typed in the number you had memorized. In the city. I’m ready whenever you are. 

Delivered. No matter how much you hated it, you felt like a sitting duck amongst sharp-toothed sharks. 

“Had enough?” Johnny asked, poking his head around the corner. He’d seen you checking out the windows. 

You’d heard his footsteps, knowing he was coming. It might have come off as excessively paranoid, or obsessively so, but you were a listener, and recognizing the distinct sounds of someone’s steps had saved your life. More than once. “Yeah, I think so. Just had to make sure the safe house is really safe.”

Johnny chortled, fully entering the living room now, and walked over to sit beside you. “We’re in the middle of only God knows where. I think we’ll be pretty okay, baby.”

“I sure hope so,” you muttered. 

Johnny cocked his head. “You said there’s something about you that I don’t know, but you never told me what.”

And that was how it would stay. At least for now. The phone call with Mark reminded you of what was at stake and you had to remember that everyone was a suspect. “I didn’t?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to,” Johnny assured you gently, resting a hand on your back. “But I want you to remember that this is bigger than you. Assuming whoever is after you knows about us, my life is at stake too. Not only yours.”

Something bitter scorched its way down your throat. He wasn’t exactly wrong. It was a conclusion you had already come to, but that didn’t mean you weren’t opposed. The fact that someone had attempted to take him out angered you to no end. “I know that. And I’ll come clean. But not right now.”

Those words brooked no argument, and knowing your tendency to keep things close to your chest, Johnny asked instead, “When do we move out?”

You stretched your arms above your head, hoping to shake the tense feeling within you in spite of knowing it had nothing to do with your muscles. “The minute I get the call. I let my former supervisor know that we landed. He’s not exactly the sociable type, but he’ll let me know when we’re clear.”

“You two must get along great then,” Johnny quipped. 

You rolled your eyes, recognizing his attempts at humor, but softened. “Listen, Johnny. I’m sorry I got you dragged into this mess. I never meant for you to see this part of me, but my past is coming back to bite me in the ass.”

Johnny’s brows knitted together. “Are you an assassin or something?”

“Yes, and that’s all you need to know right now,” you said, crossing your legs on the chair.

Silence prevailed for a brief moment and you were worried you had reasonably startled Johnny, but you were surprised when he said, “Not gonna lie, that’s pretty daunting news, but I don’t give a fuck what you are, baby.”

Those were the last words you expected to come out of his mouth and you couldn’t decide if they were alarmed or comforting. “Are you sure?”

“Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure you had your reasons,” Johnny said, pulling you into his brawny arms. Not afraid of you. “I already told you, there’s nothing in this world that could change how I feel about you. I love you.”

Every muscle in your body went rigid. Although you had been dating for almost a whole year, you and Johnny had never muttered those three words until now. And it had been even longer since you’d heard them. 

Your face was stiff and you didn’t make a move, but somehow Johnny could sense the panic within you. He had always been good at seeing plain through the walls you put up to protect yourself. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted you to know.”

That confused you to no end. “You don’t at least want to know if I love you back?”

Johnny sounded amused, which was the last reaction you were expecting. “I already know. It’s in everything you do. If you didn’t love me, you would have wordlessly left me in Monaco to die,” he said, gathering some of your hair in his hands and brushing it out of the way. “But I want you to say it when you’re ready and not a second before.”

You nodded, trying to play off the fact that your heart was beating quicker. How did he always just know? 

Johnny moved his hand to your cheek, his touch featherlight, and continued, “I know something nightmarish is happening and you probably feel like the whole world is out to get you. Do whatever you think is right. Trust your gut and nothing else. Not your supervisor, not your friends. Not even me.”

You stared into Johnny’s eyes when he pulled back. They were deep and brown and hypnotic, pulling you clean under his spell in one fatal swoop. Like you were holding a gun and he was whispering in your ear for you to pull the trigger. 

It was dangerous to love somebody to that extent and you knew it, but you were past the point of no return. Johnny was your one weakness, the only thing that could blind you. Your enemies were smart in targeting him first, but foolish to think you would let them take him away from you so easily. 

With his hand still on your cheek, Johnny flirted, “May I ask you to lower your guard for a few moments while I kiss you, or am I asking for too much?”

“It’s okay,” you replied, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance. “You can kiss me.”

Johnny beamed in excitement. When his lips crashed against yours, you remembered why you were even here with him in the first place. Your body relaxed in his arms, knowing it was safe there, shielded from all the dangers of your twisted world. Johnny knew exactly how to disarm you, lowering all your many defenses. 

His mouth fell downwards onto your throat and you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t be bothered to stop him. You needed the relief and the place was secure enough. What was a little bonding time between two lovers? 

“Mind if I take this to the bedroom?” Johnny asked, slipping a hand up your blouse. 

You nodded, biting your lip. 

Johnny effortlessly hoisted you into his burly arms and carried you into the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed. You giggled as he crawled over you, threading your fingers through his dark hair to pull his mouth back onto yours. There was no delaying the soft sighs you made as Johnny felt up your body. 

The two of you stayed there like that together for the longest time, your hands falling onto his broad shoulders and his grabbing a handful of your boobs. More often than not, sex was a game of patience. You were both stubborn in your own way, scheming to utterly ravage each other. 

For some reason, Johnny was an expert at both dominating and manipulating your body, and for some even weirder reason, you let him. He always seemed to intuitively know what you needed and how you needed it. No one understood you like that. Johnny was the first human being you had let get close enough to wield that kind of power over you, and it was equally as sexy as it was unnerving. 

You shuddered at the feeling of his big hands as they advanced down your thighs. They were so cold sometimes. Back when you first got together and holding hands gave you the most outrageous butterflies, you used to tease that he was like a snake or something. 

In the heat of your kisses, shirts were thrown and pants were tossed. You gawked at the sight of Johnny’s toned abs even though you had already seen them a thousand times before. He preferred to travel to countries with plenty of sunshine and hot sand. Naturally, you’d seen him shirtless in a year more than you’d seen your mother. 

“Fuck me,” you moaned, simmering with yearning. Your hands wandered down his burly chest.

When they finally reached the navy blue shorts you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why he was still wearing, you grabbed a fistful of Johnny’s half-hard cock, and he tensed with the same thought. Johnny may have prided himself on his extreme willpower and self-control, but you knew a thing or three about ruining men, and you were damn good at it. 

It was obvious you were up to no good. You met Johnny’s stare as you pumped his cock stiff in your hands, watching him falter. He was melting right there between your fingers. If only he was fully naked. You would have been trailing kisses down the base of his cock. 

You smirked when you heard him groan your name under his breath. That long thread of patience was unraveling. There was this battle between the two of you, taking turns sending each other into oblivion. The thing about you and Johnny was that sex started long before any clothes came off. 

Johnny swatted your hand away. Gently, of course. “Okay,” he said in that firm tone that meant he’d had enough. 

You couldn’t resist a satisfied grin. There was nothing like making a masculine man like himself lose control. 

Johnny took the lead, sticking a hand between your legs, which you voluntarily widened for him without having to be told. He liked how submissive you became when in bed with him and chuckled faintly to himself, teasing his hand over the damp spot in your panties, and tempted to toy with you until you soaked through both sides. 

It wasn’t that Johnny was very patient. You had the upper hand in that regard. But what he lacked in patience he made up for in obstinacy, which you both had an ample amount of, and made things all the more exhilarating.

You were sighing softly underneath him, your body gently arching into his touch as you felt yourself burn from the sheer proximity of his body to yours alone, and Johnny appreciated every second. There was a certain pleasure he got out of making you crack. You were tough and composed, something you prided yourself on, but something about breaking you felt like getting a small taste of your inner chaos. 

A glimpse behind the forbidden door. 

“Johnny,” you called out, trying not to sound whiny. 

It didn’t help. Johnny could still read your body language flawlessly. He stifled a smirk, playing dumb. “Hm?”

You scowled at him. Not out of any genuine anger, of course. Though maybe a hint of frustration. You knew he was baiting you to the point of begging, wanting to satiate his ever hungry ego. 

“Don’t you think it would be nice of you to do something?” you asked. 

“I am doing something,” Johnny replied as if he was totally clueless to what you wanted. “I’m touching you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. And it’s very generous of you to do that,” you said with a hint of sarcasm. “But maybe you could consider going the extra mile.”

“The extra mile? Oh, you mean, like, this?”

Johnny dipped a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear and your lips parted in a shaky gasp as you braced his shoulders again, instantly squirming. Your legs reflexively closed on him, but Johnny didn’t even blink, merely spreading them wide again with his free hand as he listened for the sweet sound of your pleasure. 

“Am I right on the money?” he asked knowingly, finally letting that sly grin come out to play. 

He was right on something. It may not have been money, but you could feel his thumb on your clit and it was making you shudder. You nodded, your whole body feeling electric. Your toes curled and your hands dropped, balling into fists on the sheets.

You could feel how hard he was as he leaned over you, his body damn near flush against yours, tauntingly close. The very hard bulge in his shorts was all you could feel in your thigh. Johnny ignored it. Which was getting increasingly harder the more he watched you whimper and tense with need, aching to be filled, but he wanted to play a little more. 

Johnny decided to go another mile and slid a pair of long, thick digits inside your heat with no resistance from your body. You sucked him in, wet and ready, and Johnny watched the tension on your face elevate. 

Your entire body was begging you to stop being stubborn and give in to Johnny’s demands if it meant he would do something to cease the endless throbbing in your core, but as good as his fingers felt in you and even better you knew his dick would feel, you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Though it certainly wasn’t more than what he deserved. 

“You asshole,” you said, torn between your desires. 

Johnny flinched, but smiled at your sudden outburst. “What I do now?”

You pretended to be angry, grumbling, “Making me want you. Fuck. You’re a piece of shit. I hate you.”

Johnny chuckled. He knew you didn’t mean a single word. You just didn’t want to admit that you needed him, even though everything in how your body was responding to his touches said more than enough. “You won’t be saying that when I fuck you,” he replied confidently. 

“And when exactly will that be?”

“When I feel like it.”

You rolled your eyes. He could be so damn annoying. There was only room for one stubborn bitch in this relationship. You pointed out, “You’re hard.”

“So?”

You narrowed your eyes. “So, don’t you feel like it right now?”

“Nope,” Johnny replied with feigned indifference, pushing his fingers in and out of you and watching how you accepted them desperately. The whole thing made him wish it was his cock in you instead. 

You didn’t buy that at all. Johnny wasn’t invincible, no matter how hard he tried. And his horniness was through the roof. “Johnny, fuck me.”

Johnny thought you bossing him around, or at least attempting to, was funny. “Say please.”

“Johnny, fuck me. Please,” you grumbled. 

“Now was that so hard?” he asked, looking relatively pleased. 

You didn’t get the chance to answer, because before you knew it, Johnny withdrew his digits from your sopping hole and stepped out of his shorts. He slipped your panties to the side and lined himself up with your entrance, his eyes on your cunt the entire time as he watched his cock steadily disappear inside. 

Johnny’s hands clamped tightly onto your thighs as he sank deeper, tipping his head back with a moan at the hot, tight sensation of your pussy gushing around his cock. He tried to will himself to go slow, not wanting to overwhelm you with too much, but the way you were throbbing was testing his patience. And his restraint. 

You were out of breath and he had hardly even done anything so far. The size of him never failed to knock the wind of you. It didn’t matter how many times you fucked, or how much he prepared you, Johnny still managed to taunt your limits. 

“Jesus. Fuck,” you exhaled, craving his warmth and wanting to escape him in equal measure. Your hands grappled for something, anything, to ground yourself. When Johnny took you, he took you somewhere far, far away from earth. 

Johnny would have been worried, if not for the fact that you had wound your legs snugly around his waist, forcing him deeper. He smirked. “Can I move, baby?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Move.”

Johnny groaned as he started to push in and out of you, dragging his thick cock through your walls. He never got used to this either. Maybe it was only in his mind, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you got tighter the more he fucked you. Wetter the more he stretched you out. 

No one had ever made you feel this way before. You’d had meaningless sex a dozen times and then some, but this was something much different. There was so much passion seeping from your bodies and it made the ecstasy skyrocket tenfold. So much love, dare you say. 

But the control Johnny had over your body was your favorite part by far. The orgasms brought by his will were the most powerful you’d ever had. They felt like you were releasing a dark part of you that had quietly attached itself to your soul. Johnny was good at showing you that if you let him take the lead, if you let go, he could bring you to elysian heights. 

You thought for certain you were bound for hell, but damn, Johnny made you see heaven. And now that you knew what heaven felt like, you didn’t want to consider any other option. 

Johnny could see it on your face. He always could. In the bedroom, at least. Out there, you could be cold and inscrutable, but when he was bringing you to your peak, there was no part of you that he didn’t see. “Still hate me?” he asked teasingly. 

“No,” you stammered out. You wanted to say you loved him, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. Don’t say anything,” Johnny whispered, pressing sweet kisses along your throat and collarbone. “Just take me.”

You relaxed in his arms, succumbing to the building pressure in your core as Johnny took and took from your body, speeding up his steady rhythm. You loved when he did that. Though you knew Johnny valued your pleasure deeply, there was something about when he availed you, of how he bled you dry.

Johnny knew you would let him if he asked. You would let him do anything he wanted if it meant he’d be satisfied in the end. It was his reward for loving you without conditions. You were his beautiful, sick little lion that he’d tamed.

“You’re perfect for me. You know that?” Johnny asked a little breathlessly. “All for me.”

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, grabbing Johnny’s hair and pulling him down to you. His chest was flush against yours and you could feel the sweat of his body mingling with your own and the vicious thud of his heart as he moved. 

You found his lips and kissed him hungrily, too hooked on passion to care about kissing him perfectly. The desperation in your touches only made Johnny want you more. He matched your energy and met his lips to yours with the same amount of fervor, if not crazier. You heard him groan and the sound did everything to turn you on. 

There was no denying his fire for you and you appreciated every single bit. His skin burned, hot and sticky with a glistening sheen of dampness. Johnny was just as insane for and about you as you were over him, his body said so. Though it helped that he wasn’t shy with his words. 

Johnny brought one hand between your legs and the other to your throat that was stained in marks leftover from his kisses. You were already weak and he knew exactly how to make you even weaker. You gasped when you realized what he was doing, looking into his eyes and finding nothing but a darkness that said he wanted to ravage you. It made you tighten. 

You felt something in your stomach tighten when you saw Johnny’s face change, tensing with the wound of pleasure. He mumbled curses under his breath in a voice that made you shudder. You knew then that you weren’t far. He was going to finish you. 

“Johnny, I’m close,” you told him through heavy pants. 

Johnny tightened his grip on you, moving his hand faster over your clit. He chuckled when you moaned. “Yeah, you wanna come? Tell me how bad you need it.”

“God, Johnny. Please,” you begged, knowing he wanted to gauge how much he turned you on, how good he pressed your buttons. “I need to come. I need you. I can’t hold it. You feel too good. Oh my fuck.”

“Then go ahead. Let go for me, baby,” Johnny commanded darkly, watching you expectantly. He knew you were about to fall apart any moment now. 

And you did. Your orgasm took hold of you and slammed you down onto the surface, and you felt the impact in every bone of your body. But rather than a dull ache, it was a heady euphoria. Johnny was there to sweep you into his arms, whispering sweet nothings as he coaxed you through every second like a gentleman.

He tried to act like the way you clamped around him and cursed out his name when you trembled with climax wasn’t getting to him, but Johnny was starting to melt into your heat and he couldn’t help how much getting you off got him off. It was too natural. He looked down at you proudly, taking in the sight of you laying there, trying to collect yourself. 

You tried to take it as he continued to pound you out, trying to make himself come now than he had taken care of you, but it was making your head spin. “Johnny,” you whined. 

Johnny raised a brow, playing innocent. “What? I didn’t say I was done with you. Now did I?” 

You swallowed sharply. This wasn’t the first time he had fucked you through your orgasm and then some, but he was damn good at making it feel like it was. 

“You tapping out on me?” Johnny taunted, knowing it would do the trick. You always had something to prove. 

You shook your head. It was too much for you, but that was exactly the point. You let Johnny decide how much you could handle. He was the one in charge, like it or not. “No. Never.”

“Good,” Johnny chirped, satisfied. “You know what to say if you change your mind.”

You had a safe word, but you remembered using it only once. The word lingered in your mind but didn’t dare escape your lips. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to take you until there was nothing left. And then take some more. 

Your silence was loud as ever and Johnny grinned, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He continued to have his way with you, his hands gentle as they wandered your entire body, but his hips slapping against yours with a vengeance as he tried to drive himself over the edge. 

It wouldn’t be long. Johnny wanted to keep fucking you forever, die tangled together limb to limb, but with every hit through your slick walls he felt his grip on his restraint slack. You were breaking him down, piece by piece.

You couldn’t think straight. You could barely even see, your vision hazy with the faint sting of tears in your eyes. Johnny had once told you that there was a thin line between pain and pleasure and now he was taking you there. He delicately kissed your face and chest all over as he overstimulated you, making you teeter. 

“Johnny, come,” you whispered, coaxing him to finish while still playing meek. “I want you to fuck me full. Please. Oh my god.”

Johnny grunted at the thought of fucking you full of his cum and the memory flickering into his brain. He tightened his hold on your body, hands falling to your perfect hips, and moved even faster. You gasped when he sank his teeth into your neck, fiending for you. All of you. 

You took it like you were made to take him. Your soft moans and sweet cries were unraveling Johnny quicker than he would have liked, making his dick twitch inside you, and it was only a matter of seconds until he lost the fight. 

It was insane how much power you wielded over each other. You knew all the right places to touch, all the right words, all the right things to say. There were no limits. Only getting lost in the endless cosmos of each other. 

Johnny closed his eyes as he at last came with a delicious, guttural groan that made you burn with the urge to suck the soul out of him. He kept fucking you until he felt like stopping, his warmth flooding into your wet pussy, and the sensation made you moan. 

When he was finally sated, he collapsed against your chest, smothering you with the weight of him that you loved. You could feel his tired breath on your neck and the heat of his body against yours, and it was oddly comforting. 

Johnny lifted his head from the crook of your neck to peer into your eyes, asking, “You okay?”

You nodded. “I’m good. Thank you for that.”

Johnny chuckled. He could feel the tension leaving your body and he was proud, and more than glad, to be of service. “Pleasure is my business and I aim to satisfy.”

You giggled at his words, wounding your arms around his broad shoulders while you held him close. You knew you would have to get up one way or another, but not right now. This was your time to simply be there for each other. 

And that was what you did, but then you had a mischievous thought and it was all you could do not to snicker as you untangled yourself from Johnny’s arms. He was reluctant to let you go, but relented, watching you with curious eyes. 

You brought your hand down to his now soft cock, toying with him as you tried to get him up again. There was an untamed look in your eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by Johnny.

He tensed immediately when he felt your hands on him. His voice was suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you replied in a tone that was way too innocent to be believable. 

Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’re doing something.”

You giggled, gently shoving at him. It didn’t work, but Johnny took it as a sign that you wanted him to shift, and so he sat up on the bed. You followed, returning your hand between his legs as you stroked him back rigid. 

“Are you really trying to make me come again?”

You shrugged. That was only half your goal. You wanted to make him lose his mind, and the best way to do that was to give him a nut he would always remember. “Why not? Don’t tell me that’s all you got for me, handsome?”

“I always got more for you,” Johnny flirted without hesitation. 

You smirked, moving from the bed and sinking onto your knees. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Johnny had only just managed to recover his breathing when he felt his breath start to hitch again as you pumped him stiff in your hands, which only took a few moments. You were his vice. Nothing got him hard like you, the thought of you, and the promise of fucking you. 

When he was ready, you took him into your mouth slowly but steadily, inch by inch. You kept your fist around the base of his cock, figuring it would be best to have multiple sensations. Johnny groaned. It was one thing to fist his own cock, but when you were the one doing it, it was like his entire body was in flames. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, tangling his fingers through your hair none too gently. He knew you liked it a little rough, knew you didn’t feel alive without pain. 

Your supple hands moved just fast enough to make Johnny want more and your mouth took just enough of him that you weren’t gagging. He was a really big boy. Though you knew you could fit more, you wanted to draw things out for as long as you could, slowly tasting his shaft with your tongue. 

Johnny gave your cheek a little impatient slap when he started to get annoyed with your teasing. This was the only man you would let touch you like that and get away with it. Mainly because it was hot coming from him and you liked pushing his buttons. 

Ignoring the faint burn of his palm on your cheek, you obliged his silent command, knowing better than to test him. He wouldn’t hesitate to take away all the power you thought you had right now and have you at his mercy. You took more of him into your mouth, head bobbing around his cock. 

“Shit, baby. Like that. Suck me just like that,” Johnny moaned. You loved the breathlessness in his voice, the way he sounded borderline desperate. And you loved knowing that it was only for you even more. 

Johnny watched you suck him off like it was the driving force behind your life, seemingly having your fill of teasing him. He gathered another fistful of your hair, using it to keep you in check. You looked so pretty on your knees for him, kneading his cock with your perfect tongue. 

It was everything you knew it would be, knew he would be unable to resist. You wanted to see him unravel one good time before the night was over, no matter the cost. The bruises forming on your knees and the dull soreness developing in your throat be damned. 

You loved pleasing Johnny. Not only because you got pleasure from having the power to make a dominant man like him lose his shit, though that was a significant part of it. There was a giving side of you that just wanted to see him content as his reward for making you feel safe and comfortable. 

The violent need for control you had stemmed from a lifelong struggle with power. You had been completely helpless before and now you wanted to conquer the unconquerable. There was nothing that would stand between you and what you wanted. After being denied so many times, you became the villain and began to take. 

But Johnny was just as stubborn as you, if not more. He couldn’t be bent into shape and he would never bend to anyone’s will. Though it took you a minute to accept, you liked that about him. He didn’t view you as something to be feared. And he seized control over you without making you feel like something to own. 

There was no way in hell you could repay him for that, but you knew he would settle for a mind-numbing blowjob.

Johnny grumbled curses under his breath as he started to rock into your throat without warning, setting a rhythm of his own. He was close to the edge and he needed to come. You weren’t prepared. You gagged a little bit, eyes burning. But you didn’t complain. 

“I’m gonna come,” Johnny warned, though it was relatively obvious. “Take it all for me, baby. I know you can.”

You allowed Johnny to fuck your throat as he so pleased, desperately trying to handle his aggressive pace and willing yourself not to gag by sheer force. The throbbing between your thighs had returned and you chastised yourself for getting horny over being used. 

Johnny tipped his head back with a moan he couldn’t stifle before looking back down at you again, something sharp and hungry in his stare. You looked up and met his gaze, your eyes misty with unshed tears, and the sight made him bust on the spot. 

His thighs trembled as he released, painting the back of your throat with a load of hot cum you attempted to swallow. He hissed in something like pain but not quite there, his grip tightening on your hair, inadvertently pulling your face flush against his balls. 

It was a sight you would never forget. The way his handsome face tensed perfectly in a dangerous kind of ecstasy, a deep groan of your name escaping his lips. The way he swallowed as he accepted his defeat. It was absolutely beautiful. 

Johnny panted, pulling you off him and wiping a stray tear from your face with his thumb. “You win. This time. Next time I won’t go easy on you.”

Your voice was a little hoarse from the rough fucking it had received as you snickered and replied, “If that was you going easy on me, I’d hate to see you going hard.” 

Johnny smirked. “Please. You love when I go hard.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. 

Johnny ushered you to the bathroom for a shower. Though it was much smaller than you knew he was used to, he didn’t complain. He was mostly focused on taking care of you and worshiping your body after ravaging it. Which was only fair. 

You fell asleep in record time, tangled in his embrace. Nights with Johnny ensured the easiest sleep you had ever gotten. There was something about the arms of a big, strong man like him that easily lured you someplace far away. They were the safest place in the world. 

Morning came and Johnny rose before you did, gingerly slipping from behind you. Watching your face as he climbed out of the bed, he was careful to make sure you didn’t stir. The last thing he wanted was to wake you up when you were blissfully oblivious. He grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and started out. 

Johnny glanced at you one more time before leaving. You looked so peaceful, curled up into the blankets. He’d noticed that you had this uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere, at any given time. He shook his head and made for the door. Most nights he lay awake. 

Something didn’t feel right. You noticed the empty spot in the small bed and the lack of arms around your body immediately upon rousing. That was weird. Where had Johnny gone? Did he leave in pursuit of coffee? Or did someone get to him while you were sleeping?

You told yourself you were being ridiculous and tossed the blankets off your body, sliding your feet into a pair of slippers. The possibilities were endless, but it was reasonable to assume Johnny was still in the house somewhere. He wouldn’t have gone without a fight. And there was no doubt you would have heard a struggle. 

The sound of his voice coming from the living room made you grind to a halt in the tiny, dark hallway. He sounded like he was speaking on the phone. You tried to make out who he was talking to, but his responses gave nothing away. They were too straightforward. 

Much like how you were trained to answer questions on the phone when the wrong people were privy to your conversations. 

You lingered in the hall, wondering whether you should have approached or not. Something told you not to give yourself away just yet, but something else told you to stop treating Johnny like a sub by spying on him. Fuck’s sake, he was your partner. 

Before you could decide, Johnny hung up the phone and started for the kitchen. You acted like you were casually walking down the hallway and greeted him sweetly. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Johnny replied, slipping his fingers through yours as he led you into the kitchen with him. “I made coffee.”

“Thanks.”

Johnny added playfully, “For myself. But you’re more than welcome to have some.”

You rolled your eyes. He was only kidding, but you always loved how much energy this guy could have in the morning. You were an early riser because it was built into you. Johnny was just a productive kind of man. 

The kitchen was uncomfortably crowded even with only the two of you inside, so you shifted over to the slightly larger living room while you drank coffee together. Johnny was sitting beside you on the couch with his spare hand instinctively resting on your thigh, tracing circles on your exposed skin. 

Your eyes flickered to his naked back for all of two seconds before you willed yourself to focus on the important bits. “I heard you on the phone earlier,” you mentioned, getting a conversation rolling. 

Johnny seemed totally relaxed, as if he had nothing to hide. “Did you now?” 

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, glancing back down at his hand on your thigh before meeting his eyes. “Who were you talking to?”

Johnny realized by now that you were doubting him in some way, and he was quick to explain, “I was talking to my mom, letting her know that we might have to do a rain check. You and I were supposed to fly out and see her this weekend. Remember?”

That was true. Your last night in Monaco was always meant to be yesterday regardless of how the day’s events played out. “Ah,” you replied, quiet. It would have been your first time meeting his mother. Which meant things were serious. “Well, you’re still close to home.”

“She doesn’t know that,” Johnny said. “She did most of the talking. I was trying to keep her from getting worried without revealing too much information.”

That was a perfectly logical explanation and you believed him wholeheartedly. You made a face, feeling guilty for suspecting someone as harmless as Johnny. Maybe that phone call with Mark the other day was making you even more paranoid than you already were. 

That was the way of life around here, though. Your kind didn’t believe in being innocent until proven guilty. It was the other way around. As much as you wanted to deny it, Mark had a valid point. You needed to hold Johnny to the same standard that you held henchmen. 

But you still felt bad. In your mind, Johnny was probably the last person you needed to be evaluating. “I’m sorry,” you whispered with obvious guilt. 

“Don’t apologize,” Johnny told you, patting your thigh. “You want to be safe. I get it. Like I said, trust your gut.”

You swallowed. That was the problem. You had always trusted your gut, but between her and your heart, you couldn’t tell the difference when you were with Johnny. “There’s an old saying in the underground, uh, my former boss told me. Death that tastes like sugar is poison.”

Johnny cocked his head, staring deeply into your eyes. And maybe your soul. “What’s it mean?”

“That something that seems too good to be true probably is,” you said, your gaze unfaltering as you watched him watch you. 

Johnny took that in stride, chuckling. Draping an arm over you, he asked softly, “How do you sleep at night when you’re always looking over your shoulder?”

“Because I have you next to me,” you quipped.

Johnny laughed. “Good answer.”

Playfully ruining the mood, you added, “And your dick also makes a good lullaby. You wear me out.”

“Better answer,” Johnny replied, leaning in to meet his lips to yours in a gentle, intimate kiss. The feeling of your body made him feel warm all over. 

You kissed him back, hands combing through his hair. And he was sweet as sugar.

You soon forgot all about your suspicions and tried to forget about your worries as well, but it was much harder done than said. Keeping your mind off the madness was like pulling teeth. Johnny wanted to help, but the more he tried to comfort you, the more shame and dread made your stomach ache. 

You were just antsy. Waiting on a phone call or something from Doyoung was leaving you on edge. The silence was suffocating. Any moment you could die and the people hunting you had a solid five different ways to take you out of the picture. For good. 

At the same time, you were thinking of Johnny’s comfort too. You could tell he didn’t exactly love this place. It was a far cry from the luxurious suite in Monaco, but it was something you were accustomed to as a criminal. Your only hope was that it didn’t inconvenience Johnny too much to be here. You knew how he hated confinement. 

You also knew that it was for the best. There was no way you could promise to keep him safe if he wasn’t here beside one of the most lethal proxies to enter the league. Though you couldn’t help but regret coming into his life and bringing your chaos with you. It was selfish. He may have insisted that he wasn't afraid of your darkness, but Johnny had also never seen your monsters. 

Even you were scared of them. That said more than enough. 

With that thought, you considered the only thing you hadn’t done. The one option you had been actively avoiding. Which was telling Johnny the whole truth. You were painfully aware that if you told him the full extent of what you were, you couldn’t just stop there. You would have to tell him everything.

That thought was terrifying. It might have done you some good to confess away the weight on your chest, but you didn’t want anything to change more than it likely already had. You liked things between you and Johnny the way they were without him knowing what all you’d done, but the truth of the matter was that he already knew. He may not have known the details, but there was no doubt he had imagined it. 

Frankly, whatever he was picturing in his head was probably nothing compared to what you had actually gone through. 

With a sigh, you removed yourself from your post in the living room and made your way over to the bedroom where Johnny was. He looked up when he heard you come in and watched you plop down beside him. “Hi,” you greeted, shyer than you had ever been with him.

Johnny held back a chuckle, wondering what that meant. “Hi, beautiful.”

That word stung to an indescribable level, because you felt so ugly at the moment. For what you had done. For what you had seen. And for what you hadn’t said. “I’m coming clean.”

Johnny raised a brow. “Oh?”

You nodded, stuck in the middle of an extremely unfair game of tug of war with your nerves. “Yeah. You deserve to know the truth. And the truth is that I’ve been hiding myself from you for eight months.”

Johnny didn’t say a word, letting you talk. He recognized that look on your face, the one that meant you had something to get off your chest. 

You took a deep breath and explained, “When we first met in that hotel earlier this year, I was in the middle of a mission. A week after we hooked up, I finished it. It was the last one I ever did, because I got so tangled in you that you made me want to be normal again. So I hung up my cap and tried to live a happy life with you.” 

“But then this happened,” he finished for you in typical Johnny fashion. 

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing down at your hands in your lap and chuckling faintly. “Five years ago, I was a part of a unit assigned to eliminate a major sub in the underground. Subject, I mean. That’s what we call our hits.”

Johnny nodded along in understanding. “I’m guessing that didn’t go too well?”

You swallowed, fumbling with your hands. This was your least favorite part of the story. “We got so close. We were at this ball for his drug front. I still don’t know how it happened and how he found out, but two of us died that night. The other five survived by the skin of our teeth.”

“That dude you said opened a poisoned letter,” Johnny started, mentally connecting the dots. “Was he a member of your team?”

You frowned. “He was. There was another girl too, and she was killed the other morning. There’s only three of us now. We’re all being hunted to the last man.”

The room was silent. It didn’t surprise you that Johnny had gone quiet, probably trying to process everything you were telling him, but it did unnerve you a little. 

You had so much more to say. Now that you had gotten started, a part of you didn’t want to stop. You had been carrying these secrets with you since forever. “After we made it out, we had all agreed to lay low and not draw any attention to ourselves. One of my partners went back home to Canada because that’s where he feels safe. But I don’t feel safe anywhere. That’s why I’m always moving. It’s not because I like traveling. It’s because I’m on the run.”

“That’s like running from your shadow,” Johnny whispered, gently putting an arm over your shoulder. He wasn’t in any way malicious, but that comment made you sweat. 

He was right. The shadow of who you were would follow you perpetually. You couldn’t just wipe the slate clean now that it was stained in blood. It was naive of you to think that the past wouldn’t come back to bite you. This life had chosen you, after all. Not the other way around. 

“You are the one place in this world where I feel safe. Where I feel like I don’t have to hide,” you confessed, glancing up to meet his gaze. “But at the same time, that’s why I’ve been hiding from you. I was scared that if you knew what I really am, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. And I would lose the only reliable thing I have.”

Johnny didn’t say anything about that, gingerly running his hands over you. You already knew that he wasn’t leaving. “What all do you know about this sub you were hunting?”

The better question would have been what you didn’t know. You worked harder than you’d played, and you’d gone through great lengths to uncover the dirty secrets of that syndicate and each of its high-ranking members. The Emperor, their leader. Volcano, the explosionist. Toxic, the poisoner. Bullseye, the sniper. Torch, the arsonist. And Backstabber, the spy. 

You sighed, being forced to confront the part of your life you’d been running from for the past five years. “Frankly, I’ve never seen his face. We just know that he runs one of the most dangerous syndicates in the underground. We got damning info on their ranks, their functions and their operations. It was the most advanced job I ever had.”

“How come?”

“Well, because the core of my job is that I’m more of a killer,” you replied, the words like poison on your own tongue. “When you kill big fish, it’s natural to have to do a lot of digging to establish the best method, but nothing like this. This was months of grueling effort even with a team. And it was my first time with a group.”

You were not used to working on a team and it was more than a little obvious, but the seven of you made it work. Mark could testify to your aloofness. You were good friends now, but you rarely went out of your way to speak to him. It was nothing personal; that was just how you rolled. 

Johnny was taking all of this surprisingly well. He didn’t flinch once when you casually mentioned killing. “Five years is a long wait.”

You shrugged your shoulders. You had held grudges for much longer. And in the underground, people forgot very little. They forgave even less. “When you make an attempt on someone’s life, it’s not,” you told him, a shiver running your own spine. “It’s perfectly calculated revenge. Like I said, our unit buckled down on safety after the mission failed. I’m sure the syndicate wanted to wait until we let our guard down to strike.”

“You said it's a big syndicate,” Johnny reminded, maybe the smallest hint of concern in his voice, as if he was trying not to let it show. “Where do you stand in the line between the powerful and the powerless?”

That was an unexpected question and it made your brows knit together in thought. “Well, I’m not in the game anymore, but I’ve spent a lifetime building up my power and rep. I’ve got influence. I could still have my hand in the business if I wanted, if you know what I mean. And I’m a pretty good damn shot. I’ve never missed.”

Johnny cocked his head. “So you just threw it all away to be with me? And they just let you?” 

“When I last worked, I was a freelance proxy. I didn’t belong to a network and I never will again,” you replied with noticeable disdain. “When you’re as good as me, it gets you power,  but it also gets you a lot of enemies. So obviously there’s a lot of people out there that don’t wanna see me happy. That’s why I lay low.”

Johnny took a good look at you. He knew you were making it sound easier than it was, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. The place he was looking was far deeper. “Why this life? Why not something more normal or less dangerous? Why did you choose to live a life where the only thing you can trust is your gut?”

“I didn’t choose it,” you said, quiet as a mouse. “I didn’t have a chance to be anything different. It was either this, or a slow death. I lived on the streets as a kid and I saw a lot of crazy shit in a short time. I guess it desensitized me. Which made me the perfect candidate for a contract killer.”

“So you were taken in?” Johnny asked. 

“Remember how I said I didn’t wanna be in a network again?”

Johnny nodded his head, seeing where you were going with this, and he frowned at the thought of something happening to you. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Well, they took me in when I was twelve,” you told him, less than proud. But you told yourself countless times that you’d only done what you had to do to survive. “Primed me for the job. They said I would make them a lot of money someday. And I did.”

Johnny wasn’t too convinced that this was so simple either. “There’s more to the story. Isn’t there?”

You tensed with something far more explosive than anger and potent than sadness, something that made your eyes blur. You fought it with all your strength, whispering, “I went through a lot of shit, Johnny. But I couldn’t leave. Because they told me they were the only family I would ever have. And they weren’t wrong. But the shit they put me through? I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. And I have a lot of those.”

Johnny frowned, but he’d expected as much. He doubted there were a large number of people that had a normal upbringing and yet went on to become contract killers, if any at all. He whispered your name softly. “You didn’t deserve whatever you went through.”

Your eyes were burning. “Then why does it feel like I’ve been punished since the second I was born?”

Hearing you say that broke Johnny’s heart. It was clear to him that you had been through hell and back. More than anything, he wanted to relieve you of all your suffering and kill all the demons he knew you’d faced. The demons he knew you weren’t done facing. “I want you to listen to me carefully,” he said softly, taking your hand in his own. “You are not being punished. I know it’s unfair what happened to you, but you did what anyone would have done to make it. You made a hard choice. You made the strong one.”

“I’m tired of being strong,” you murmured. 

“I know. I know you are,” Johnny replied, letting you rest your head on your shoulder. “But that’s exactly what these people want. They want to break you down and give you a reason not to fight. Don’t let them win.”

You were silent for a long minute, strangely comforted by his words. So many times had you thought of giving up, of letting go. The main reason you were still alive was because you were too cocky to let anyone else kill you and too much of a coward to do it on your own. 

Finally, you glanced up into Johnny’s eyes and asked, “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

Johnny could see the vulnerability in your expression, a part of you he had never seen before, and it made him even more curious about you than he already was. “Because I don’t think you’re a monster.” 

Those words came with an impact. You didn’t know how to feel. There was something about the way Johnny saw you that was so damn precious and too much of a damn lie. 

“Call me crazy, but I don’t think there’s anything you could ever do to scare me away,” he continued, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you. 

You swallowed hard. It was hard to believe that you had found someone with such unwavering loyalty to you, without any ulterior motives. You felt bad for doubting him again, but you just couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. Your insecurities were loud. 

One part of it was that you had always viewed Johnny as the perfect picture of what a normal life should have looked like. What did it mean if he glimpsed into your world and somehow didn’t immediately run the other direction?

Johnny tilted your head up and placed his thumb on your bottom lip, as if he was preparing to lean in for a kiss. You would have let him, but in that very moment, your phone began to ring in your back pocket. 

You startled, pulling away and immediately putting the phone up to your ear. “What’s the move?”

“It’s time,” came Doyoung’s voice from the phone, stern as ever. “You know where to go. Don’t waste any time.”

“Copy that,” you answered, sending a look Johnny’s way to let him know it was time to get going. 

The line went dead and you immediately got to work. Johnny had already started moving, preparing to leave the house and head towards the final destination. “Where are we even going?” he asked in the middle of gathering his things for the second time. 

It was a valid question and Johnny was half expecting a vague answer, so he was surprised when you replied, “Dead Man’s End. It’s an old refuge for assassins, been around since the eighties. It’s kind of like a hitman hotel, if you will.”

Johnny grimaced. “That just sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. Are you sure about this?”

You exhaled a deep breath, pausing dead in your tracks. That was a good question for which you didn’t have a proper answer. “No, but it’s our best bet at figuring out what the hell is going on. And besides, the road there is way scarier than the place itself.”

“Whatever that means,” Johnny mumbled. 

His reluctance made you frown. You understood his distaste, but this was entirely out of your hands. Your best bet at survival was by pairing together with the last walking members of your old unit and going over what you knew about this organization. 

As long as you were still breathing, no one was going to hunt you like an animal and get away with it. 

There were a couple hours of travel to make and Johnny was adamant that he would drive, even if he didn’t know the roads. You let him. It wasn’t like you were expecting a coup. When you said the road to the hotel was scarier than the place itself, you’d only meant putting up with all the dread and unease.  

After driving endlessly, you finally pulled in front of a random building in the middle of essentially nowhere. You knew you were at the right place when you noticed how meager the place looked from the exterior. Nothing that would draw unwanted attention. It was the perfect hideout for criminals like yourself with a lot of blood on their hands. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Johnny asked as you both carried your things to the door.

You kept yourself composed. “We’re going to walk in and get a room. Don’t say anything. I’m gonna find my boss.”

Johnny nodded, opening the lobby door and holding it for you as you strolled inside with your suitcase in tow. You thanked him and he followed you straight to the front desk where a woman was sitting there on the phone. She glanced up at you and mouthed, “One moment, please.”

While you waited, you glanced around the lobby, scrutinizing it with the intent to commit the entire layout to memory. There was standard hotel stuff, in spite of this being a getaway for lowlifes. A small lounge area with the television set on some sports channel. An even smaller spot for brewing coffee. There were more things down the hall beside the elevator. 

The lack of other human presence didn’t concern you. Most wouldn’t hang out somewhere as open and vulnerable as the main lobby, and the wise few wouldn’t come out at all. You didn’t look for long. You didn’t need to. It was your job to be able to record a lot of information with little time and effort, and nothing seemed out of place, so far. 

“Alright, sorry about that,” the receptionist said after a few minutes, putting the phone down. She glanced between you and Johnny. “Name and handler?”

You told her your name and gave her Doyoung’s, before gesturing towards Johnny and adding casually, “He’s with me.”

The receptionist glanced up at Johnny and nodded, documenting his name in addition to yours. “I’m going to need you to check in your weapons, please.”

Drawing your weapon from behind you, you signaled towards Johnny again and told her, “He’s not carrying.”

“That’s fine, but I still need you both to check your luggage through that door over there. It’s like the airport, only much simpler.”

The expression on Johnny’s face gave away the fact he clearly found the policy odd, but you both followed instructions and stepped through the security checkpoint one after another, not hearing a single beep. 

But when the receptionist handed over your keycards, instructing you to head to the elevator on the right hand side of the room, Johnny crept close and whispered, “Never heard of criminals checking in their guns.” 

You snickered. “I told you, the road here is scarier than the place itself. With a bunch of murderers in the same room, shit’s bound to get messy if we’re all packing. It’s the only thing that makes this place remotely safe.”

Johnny didn’t seem too convinced about the safety of this refuge. “You don’t need a gun to kill someone.”

“That’s true, but it makes things a lot easier,” you replied, pressing the second floor button. It was perfectly safe; not too close to the bottom floor, yet not too far away from the ground.

Johnny had no argument. 

When you reached the second floor, you both stepped out, scanning the hallway for your room number. The walls were a murky shade of green, the paint chipping off and every decoration (which they barely had) looking as if it was on its last leg. The entire place appeared stale and in violent need of renovation, but something about it was strangely comforting. 

You walked by one door and immediately got a strong whiff of marijuana. “Someone’s getting high as hell,” Johnny quipped. 

“Could be worse,” you murmured. 

The second you were in the room, you locked the door and secured the door chain, making sure no one could creep inside behind you. Then, you swung your luggage onto the bed and dug in your pockets for your phone, sending Doyoung a text to let him know that you had checked in and you were ready to meet. 

“I’m guessing your former boss’ name is Doyoung,” Johnny said, given that was the name you had supplied to the receptionist earlier. “Is he here?”

“No idea,” you replied, brows stitched together. You had been expecting an instant response or phone call. “I thought he would be. I’ll give it twenty minutes before I get suspicious.”

Johnny had noticed a shift in you. You seemed somewhat more comfortable and at ease here than you ever did at the five-star hotels he’d stayed in with you or even the safe house you’d locked yourselves in only some hours before, and he wanted some kind of explanation. He knew you had your reasons for everything, but the idea didn’t make any sense to him whatsoever. 

But he didn’t ask. Instead, he settled on the bed and flirted, “You know what I could do to you in twenty minutes?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you chirped, playing along. “Our foreplay lasts way longer than that.”

Johnny chortled, knowing it was true. A solid half of your foreplay didn’t even involve physical touch. Sometimes he got worked up simply from talking to you and listening to you speak your mind. “We can skip the talking,” he said, loosely grabbing your waist. “That’s my favorite part though.”

“Mine, too,” you agreed. “But frankly, I don’t trust these beds.”

Johnny laughed. Everything about this building made it seem like it hadn’t been touched in decades. “Well, let’s hope we’re not here for long.”

You wouldn’t be. Either you would come to danger, or danger would flock to you in large quantities. No matter what happened, your only hope was that you would be prepared. There was no hiding. 

At first, ten minutes passed. Weird, but no big deal. Then an entire twenty went by and you were still snuggling up on Johnny, having not heard a single chime or ping. That was extremely out of the ordinary and you internally began to fret. 

Retreating from Johnny’s arms ever so begrudgingly, you gave him a fleeting kiss on the lips and said, “I’m gonna go check things out. It’s really weird that he hasn’t called or texted me yet.”

There was a hint of reluctance in Johnny’s eyes, as if he didn’t want to let you go, but there was nothing he could do to keep you still. You were restless. “Be safe,” he told you, appreciating how the faint feeling of your kiss was lingering on his lips. 

“You be safe too,” you replied with worry. It wasn’t like you wanted to leave Johnny alone, but you trusted that he could hold his own. “Keep the door locked at all times. The bolt and the chain.”

Johnny waved you off. “I know, I know. I’m not a kid, baby.”

“I just want to make sure you’re careful. I love you.” The words had already escaped your lips before you realized exactly what you were saying, but you couldn’t take it back. You blinked in surprise. 

Johnny’s eyes widened vaguely, having not expected you to blurt out a confession of your love for him, but he was pleasantly surprised. “I know you do. I love you too.”

You nodded silently, feeling awkward. With one final glance and a pat on his shoulder, you waved goodbye and turned away. 

There was something you had to get to the bottom of. 

You stepped into the hallway. Doyoung was the type of human being you didn’t call unless it was an absolute emergency, as were you, so you had tried to keep your conversations strictly written only, but something about this situation was starting to give you unpleasant vibes. Calling you hours ago to order you here, but not being around himself, didn’t make any sense. 

Not to mention Mark, who you hadn’t heard from since that less than ten-minute phone call you’d had when you landed. You wondered if he had even arrived in the States safely. The most important thing right now was figuring out if he and Doyoung were even still alive.

The thought struck fear into your very soul, but you tried not to let it consume you. There was a reason the lot of you had been assigned together to the same team, and that was because you had the means and the willpower to survive. You wouldn’t be taken down easily and neither would they. They were strong. 

You felt borderline naked without your gun as you sauntered very quietly down the hallway of the second floor, but the knowledge that no one else had their weapons on them either provided you some easy reassurance. Plus you had something that not everyone else did. Your tenacity was your secret weapon. 

With no other viable option, you gave in and dialed Doyoung’s number on the burner phone, hoping he would pick up after a few rings. The call immediately went to voicemail. You furrowed your brows and tried again, but he ultimately still didn’t answer. 

Which made you moderately anxious. 

Maybe he had to get another phone, you told yourself, which still didn’t make enough sense. Doyoung had a remarkable memory. Wouldn’t he still try to contact you?

This was officially beyond weird. This was venturing into the territory of all things dark and dangerous. You promptly dialed Mark’s number instead, hopeful to get a hold of him, but to no avail. Rather than go straight to voicemail like Doyoung’s phone, it went on and on. 

Fuck, he switched phones, you remembered, thrusting yourself back into that phone call you’d had the other day. He had said something about how he was about to toss his phone and how you had good timing. Wherever it was, it wasn’t off or dead, but still of no use to either of you now.

That was the catch. You were meant to be elusive and completely untraceable, but it came to a disadvantage when even the people you needed most couldn’t reach you. 

Having no idea what else to do, you turned around and headed back for your room to regroup, knowing you needed to mull over your next steps and the middle of a hallway was no place to do something like that. On the way, you paid close attention to the windows and any potential blind spots. 

Upon unlocking the door, you were surprised it opened immediately without any need for asking Johnny to unhook the chain. Fuck’s sake, didn’t you tell him to lock it behind you?

“Johnny,” you called out in annoyance, shutting and bolting the door behind yourself as you walked inside. You had been expecting to find him pacing around somewhere or gazing out the window, but you didn’t see his tall body anywhere in the tiny room. 

You narrowed your eyes and checked the bathroom, but it was entirely clear too. Johnny wasn’t here. Matter of fact, the only thing that indicated he was ever even here was his bag on the single bed.

Something like panic filled your chest and made your stomach tighten. Your brain immediately went to the worst case scenario. Did someone get to him in the five seconds you had turned your back? How in the hell did he sneak out of the hallway without you noticing?

You shook your head, willing yourself to calm down. Maybe he just went downstairs to get coffee or something. You knew he needed coffee like an addict needed crack. He would drink it at any given hour. 

Solely to be safe, you quickly called his burner number, having saved it in case of situations like this. You were disappointed when it rang and rang with no answer, wondering what in the hell was happening. It had to be on his person. You would have heard it otherwise.

You groaned and stepped back into the green corridor, confused as all hell. Your very first thought was the elevator. The only reasonable idea you could conceivably imagine in the midst of all this bewilderment was to return to the main floor and see if the receptionist could clue you in on any significant information. 

It felt like you had been standing in front of the elevator for ages before it finally drew back its doors with a chime and allowed you to enter. You pressed the lobby button and waited patiently for it to descend down to the main floor.

The trip took a long minute. Though it was only two floors down, the elevator didn’t seem to be in the same rush you were in, which was more than a little frustrating. Every second you went without answers was another second you couldn’t bring yourself to relax. 

You breathed in a short-lived relief as the doors opened again and you walked onto the main floor, straight for the lobby. The sight in front of you only made you blink. 

The receptionist was very dead, slumped forward onto the front desk. You could see the wound that had done her in, one shot to the back of her neck. The exact same way Doyoung said Margo had been killed. The exact same pattern you had studied in that unit so many years back. 

You shuddered. They were here. Your initial instinct was to charge into the inventory behind the front desk where the receptionist had checked in all of the weapons, but the shock on your face when you realized the entire inventory had been cleared out was priceless. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” you said aloud in total disbelief. Not only did that mean that you were unarmed, but at least one person here had access to several different weapons.

And you had no idea where Johnny was, or literally anybody else for that matter. 

Paranoid as ever, you frantically called Johnny’s number again, mumbling under your breath for him to pick up the damn phone. Your blood was pumping belligerently in your veins and you were seconds away from losing your ability to think altogether. 

A noise echoed from behind you, making you snap around. You heard a ringing sound from the lounge area of the lobby, but no one was there. You did notice, however, the familiar phone on one of the coffee tables. 

Johnny’s phone was here. Which meant that at some point, he had been here as well. And he possibly knew what had happened with the receptionist. 

Your brain was starting to hurt, spiraling with all the different possibilities of what had happened and what was to come. There was only one thing you knew for certain, and that was that your trust in Johnny was steadily beginning to wane. There was no longer a strong faith in his seemingly normal, picture perfect life. With every second that passed without knowing where he was, it dwindled more and more. 

An idea popped into your head and you stepped around the desk, skillfully maneuvering around the dead body to briefly scan today’s log for any relevant information. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of it sooner. If any of your colleagues had checked in, their names would be on the paper.

You grinned triumphantly when you saw two familiar names, Mark and Doyoung. They had both checked in this morning, hours apart, with Doyoung logically getting here first and Mark some time afterwards. So they were here. The only thing that didn’t make sense was why you hadn’t heard a peep from either of them since your last exchanges over the phone. 

At the very least, you knew you had to keep moving. You were a walking target the longer you stayed in place. There had to be a way to figure out where they were without risking your life in the process. It may have felt like it, but you weren’t the only one in the building.

Making a beeline for the elevator, you tried to create some semblance of a plan. Given the other one was out of order, it was the only functioning elevator connecting the four total floors, which made it a dangerous spot for anyone trying to travel. And seemingly so far, no one else had been brave enough. 

That, or they took the stairs. Either way, you had to be cautious. You saw the way the receptionist had been killed - quick, efficient, and more importantly, quiet. Gone within a blink. There were people here who wanted you dead, likely staking out every available exit, and you had to be both stronger and smarter than them if you wanted a shot at survival. 

The very second you were back in the room, you chained the door shut behind yourself. It felt like you were walking in circles. Your body was hyper aware of the danger it was involved in, burning with the urge to pace around, but you didn’t want to make excessive noise or draw any unwanted attention to yourself with movement. 

You did, however, approach the closet in search of something that could be used as a makeshift weapon, knowing that you inevitably would have to go back out. You stilled when one of the floorboards creaked beneath your weight. At first, it was out of fear of making too much noise. Then, you realized there was something unusual about the panel. 

It was loose, as if it had been removed and then placed back improperly. With your experience in the industry, you knew it was very common for proxies to leave tools in place for their allies to use. You weren’t at all surprised to find something like this in the hotel. 

Getting down on your knees, you scanned the room for something to facilitate pulling up the panel, grabbing the closest object of assistance and digging up whatever the hell was clearly underneath the wooden plank.

It was a gun. 

You beamed, victorious. Upon checking the chamber, you found it was fully loaded. Meaning you had all the ammunition in the world in comparison to most people here, assuming those stolen guns in the inventory had fallen into the hands of one person and not many. 

Well, that changed things. For one, you no longer had to confine yourself to this room for half of eternity. You would obviously still need to be extremely cautious, but now you had a means of defending yourself. And for two, it would be easier to find your former teammates, and get rid of anyone who stood in your way. 

With a sigh, you nodded to yourself, standing up. You tried to think of a tentative plan. For starters, you had to find Doyoung. He would have answers, he always did. And where in the hell had Johnny run off to? 

Back in the hallway, it didn’t take long for you to get your answer. 

Johnny was by the elevator, stained in blood.

You rooted in place as if you had crossed paths with a wild bear. For a second, you couldn’t even feel yourself breathe. Your heart all but stopped. And when Johnny finally turned and saw you, standing there in total shock, the emotion on his face was completely unreadable. 

There was a dry lump in your throat that you tried to dampen by swallowing. Who’s fucking blood was that? 

Then, it hit you. 

“Did you kill the receptionist?” you asked, blurting out the question the moment it entered your mind. 

Johnny had the audacity to blink in surprise, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. Which you didn’t believe for a second. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t believe you,” you snapped. “You disappeared when I told you to stay inside. I called your phone. You weren’t in the lobby, but it was. Don’t expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with this.”

In an attempt to be consoling, Johnny reached out to hold you like he had always done when he tried to reassure you calmly, gingerly calling out your name before responding, “Baby, I know what it looks like, but…”

You instinctively whipped out the gun you had found, pointing it at him in a heartbeat as you stepped away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you warned, threatening. Your true colors were showing. The side of you that you never let him see. “I swear to God, I will shoot you.”

Johnny backed up, putting his hands up in innocence, as if he had nothing wrong. He looked surprised, likely not expecting you to be armed, whereas it didn’t seem like he was packing. Right now. “It looks like my cat’s out of the bag. I might as well come clean.”

Your heart was trembling, but your mind was trying to cling onto some leftover strength. She wasn’t a quitter. “You knew. You knew ever since we got that laced letter.”

“There was no laced letter,” Johnny replied, indifferent. 

Your eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m the one that sent it to us.”

You didn’t think it was possible for you to go any more still than you already had, but now you were as rigid as a corpse, standing there in a kind of disbelief stronger than the agony of a bullet tearing through flesh. “Who are you?” you asked stiffly. 

Johnny smirked, as if he was proud of himself for having deceived you all this time. “Take a wild guess.”

“You’re his gun,” you said, hands trembling as you grasped the weapon in your hands. All this time, your kryptonite had been hiding in plain sight. You had shown affection to the enemy, held him, made love to him. Slept beside him at night with all the trust your wounded self could muster.  

“I consider myself his poison,” Johnny retorted. 

You gawked. The gears were turning in your head, the gears that should have turned a long time ago, but you were too love blind to see it. “Your function,” you gasped. “You’re the poisoner. You’re Toxic.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure me out. They said you were the best of the best, you know. I guess that was before I got to you,” Johnny replied, grinning from ear to ear. He sighed, content. Then, he patted himself on the back, and quipped, “Good going, Johnny.”

“Is this a fucking joke to you?” you asked viciously, clearly having none of it.

“Maybe just a little bit, yeah,” Johnny admitted, chuckling faintly. “I mean, you have to admit I got you good. Rich American guy who loves traveling but never talks in detail about his job. I mean, I thought it would be too convenient, but you never asked any questions.”

Because I didn’t want you asking any questions about mine, you thought, but the words wouldn’t come. You were too stunned to speak. He had you completely fooled.

“You’re a bastard,” you sneered. 

Rather than be offended, Johnny laughed in amusement. “How are we any different? You had your secrets too.”

“I told you what I was when shit hit the fan,” you replied, although you knew it would be impossible to justify your half of it. You were just so sick of who you used to be and you didn’t want to risk losing what you had now. 

“Yeah, after shit hit the fan,” Johnny said, making a valid point. “Do you know how easy it would have been for me to take your life? God knows I’ve had ample opportunity. And yet you’re still here. Do you wanna know why?”

“Because you want to savor this to the last breath,” you replied, guarded. 

“Because I’m in love with you. Tragically. Fatally. Dangerously.”

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t want to believe him, to crawl into his bloody arms and let him hold you as if you meant something to him. But now you knew what he was. He was exactly like you, if not worse. And you were no stranger to telling a fib if the job required it. 

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” you argued, willing yourself to be strong. “Where’s Doyoung?”

Johnny wanted to touch you. Where words had failed, he knew his body could win you over, but something told him it wasn’t the best call to make right now. He sobered. “I have no idea, but you need to stay away from him. He’s not what you think he is.”

Your skepticism only heightened. “What do you know about him?”

Johnny was holding back, his hands still above his head. There was obviously something he wasn’t telling you. “He’s dangerous. This whole trip is a scheme to kill you and your friends. He wanted to pry you out of hiding.”

“But you went along with it without saying a thing,” you reminded, doubtful. “How is that any better?”

Johnny sighed. “I had to. It’s the only way.”

“The only way to do what?”

“To get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him for what?”

“He’s the Emperor, baby.”

You shook your head in denial. For one, that didn’t make any sense. Doyoung was the same person you had spent years of your life hunting? Impossible. You saw the grief on his face that night your other teammates had been killed like lambs to the slaughter. 

The idea that he was another evil, however, did explain his absence now that you were finally in the kill zone. You still weren’t entirely adamant on trusting Johnny though. Fuck’s sake, he was covered in blood right now. And you didn’t want to know why. 

“You’re lying,” you sneered, pressing the button to summon the elevator. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand next to him. It was too goddamn overwhelming. 

“I can see why you think that,” Johnny replied softly, having suddenly turned serious. Like he was trying to prove his innocence somehow, even if he was stained in the evidence of what he truly was. “But I promise I’m not.”

You scoffed. If only life was so simple, where promises were inherently something of substance. “Your word means nothing to me right now. You’re a killer,” you said, tightening your grip on the firearm in your hand. 

“I’ve been a killer long before we met. So have you,” Johnny reminded, his voice becoming slightly sharper. “And you know what? I’ve never lied to you. I’ve just kept you away from the whole truth.”

You raised your voice, asking, “How do I know that?”

That tone was something Johnny had never heard from you before, and in a way nothing else ever had, it startled him; it showed him how close he was to losing you. “Don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t even grant that a response. You felt completely and utterly betrayed, even if a part of you didn’t think you had any right to be. It felt like a direct affront to your character that he even asked you something like that. You had trusted him, and look what that had gotten you. Where it had gotten you.

“I’m going to leave this floor,” you replied, gesturing towards the elevator. “And you’re going to make yourself useful, or die trying.”

Johnny looked at you, more so the gun in your hands, eyes flickering in surprise. “You’re leaving? What? No. You can’t do that.”

“Watch me,” you whispered, stepping backwards into the elevator. The whole time, your eyes were trained on Johnny and so was your weapon, making it abundantly clear that you were armed, capable, and very, very dangerous. 

Death didn’t discriminate, after all. Why should you? 

Not daring to move as much as an inch, Johnny watched the elevator door close, stealing you away from him and carrying you to God knows where. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, heart thudding violently. 

Once in the elevator, you relaxed, but even that was short-lived. You jolted when your phone began to ring and you were shocked when you read the number, recognizing it immediately. You put the phone to your ear and answered, “Jesus, Doyoung. Where the hell are you?”

In typical Doyoung fashion, he didn’t waste any time on explanations, whispering, “Listen to me. Johnny’s lost it. I watched him shoot the receptionist with my own eyes.”

Your brows furrowed. You had mentioned Johnny to Doyoung before, but only vaguely. Not once did you ever reveal his identity. “How do you know his name?”

“How do you think?” Doyoung asked, suggesting it was obvious. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you. I had to make sure you were safe, that you weren’t falling into the same trap as the others.”

“And what did you conclude?”

With seemingly no intention to be very forward for once in his life, Doyoung continued, “I was suspicious. His record was squeaky clean, too clean, so I kept digging. I didn’t find a damn thing, but I knew I was right to be suspicious when I saw him shoot the receptionist with no mercy.”

You shook your head, thinking it over. Missing inventory aside, whoever killed the receptionist had to have access to a gun, but they had all been checked in upon entrance. And you knew Johnny wasn’t carrying one, because the machine would have dinged if he was. 

Though that didn’t mean there weren’t any other weapons in the building whatsoever. You were sure there was some way to sneak them inside and plant them for others to get a hold of. Hell, that was the only reason you had one now. 

To say nothing of the fact that he was literally stained in blood. That was the entire reason you had suspected him in the first place. The only problem was that now that you thought about it, he couldn’t have been armed. You saw the look on his face when you left and it couldn’t just have been because he didn’t want you to go. 

It was because you had something valuable. 

Another conflicting part of the story was that Doyoung talked about Johnny as if they had never met before, but Johnny himself had told you he was the Emperor. Which, if true, meant Doyoung was his boss. So, one of them was lying. 

Stepping out of the elevator onto the bottom floor, you stealthily paced the corridors with the gun in your clasp and the phone to your ear, whispering, “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“I meant to, I really did, but after I checked in, all this crazy stuff started happening, and…,” Doyoung trailed off, confusing you. Until he added, “You have a gun?”

That voice didn’t only come from your phone; it came from behind. You whipped around in a blink, noticing Doyoung standing a few feet away, eyes widened in surprise. 

You hung up. You hadn’t seen Doyoung in person in years. He hardly looked any different. He still had deep, dark hair and that stern, chiseled face. And he still had this commanding aura to him that had made him so efficient as your leader. 

But you weren’t so confident about him anymore. Not after the interaction you’d just had. Johnny had planted doubts in your mind, even if you didn’t trust him either. You figured it was in your best interest to assume everyone was dangerous and a threat until proven otherwise. 

“I found it in one of the rooms,” you replied casually, but you stiffened as he stepped closer to you. “Why?”

Doyoung looked more alarmed than you had seen him since that godawful night so long ago. He whispered, “You need to give it to me. I think Johnny’s the Emperor.”

“What?”

“Why else would he kill the receptionist?” Doyoung asked, frantic. “I know you like him, maybe you love him, but this is important. We have to kill him before he kills us.”

You heard heavy footsteps coming from the staircase at the end of the hallway and drew your gun in preparation, but you were surprised to see that it was Johnny. And he looked equally as stunned to see you standing there next to Doyoung.

“Stay away from her, Johnny,” Doyoung spoke up, getting the first word in. He stood in front of you, as if he was defending you. 

“Whatever he’s been telling you, he’s lying,” Johnny told you hurriedly, panting for breath. “You can’t trust him. I told you, he’s the Emperor.”

Doyoung looked offended. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re the Emperor. You planned all of this to isolate us and get us alone, didn’t you?”

Johnny raised his voice, insisting, “Don’t listen to him, he’s lying. I told you who I am. Think about it, baby. Why would he bring you here and make it easier for you to die?”

Doyoung matched his energy and snapped, “I brought us here so we can decide collectively on a course of action. We’re stronger together than we are alone.”

Ignoring him, Johnny focused on you entirely and reasoned, “You’re more vulnerable together and you know it. You said it yourself that you’re being hunted down to the last man. Why go out of the way to assassinate you when he could just lead you into a death trap?”

“That’s not true,” Doyoung hissed. 

Johnny called out your name, shifting around Doyoung to make eye contact with you. He could see how your trembling hands clasped the weapon like it was your only lifeline. “Please. I’d never hurt you, you have to trust me on that. Give me the gun.”

Rolling his eyes, Doyoung said, “Come on. You’ve known me for years. Give me the gun and we can walk out of here and go home.” 

Something inside you burned furiously. You didn’t have a home. You’d considered home to be wherever Johnny was, but even that had fallen through. And you knew that if you walked out of here without him, you would have nothing left except the shadow of what you used to be. You had nothing left to lose. 

When you told Johnny that you were on the run, he had said, That’s like running from your shadow. And now more than ever, you realized he was right. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself anymore. You needed to end the fight once and for all so that you could finally know peace instead of transience. 

“Enough!” you screamed, pointing the gun back and forth between both men. They startled, your raising voice making them still. “You can both go to hell.”

With that, you took off, sprinting up the stairs and hoping to lose them before they could even attempt to catch up with you. That was one of the many, many pitfalls of being a woman in a male-dominated world. You had to compensate somehow, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in speed and wit. 

You just hoped it would be enough to save you. 

There were footsteps behind you. You couldn’t see them when you turned, but you never stopped moving. The only thing you knew was that you had to think of a way to get out of here, but going outside was far too risky. You didn’t know what was waiting for you out there nor were you even remotely curious. 

You cut down to the other staircase on the right hand side of the hallway, hoping to outsmart them. There were only a handful of floors, but there had to be some way to buy yourself more time to think. They wouldn’t expect you to go back down, would they?

When you made it safely to the bottom floor, you checked both ways like a child crossing the street before circling back to the main lobby. It was strangely empty. You wondered if anyone was here other than the three of you. Mark crossed your mind and a palpable fear began pumping through your veins. 

He had signed in. You knew that much. Walking down the corridor you had clocked upon entrance, you made a beeline for the bar, knowing no one would expect to find you there of all locations. But to be safe, you locked the door and released a shaky sigh. 

Your head was spinning. Your mind was scattered. Someone had emptied out the inventory, but neither Johnny nor Doyoung clearly had weapons of any kind. So who in the hell stole all the guns?

A sudden sound jolted you out of your mental headache. Your first thought was the door you’d locked, but no one was there. Then, you heard it again. It was a thud, coming from behind the door, as if there was something behind it that couldn’t get free. Like a trapped bird throwing itself against its cage. 

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you approached the storage room, wielding your weapon. You heard the thud again; it sounded like a kick, followed by muffled noises. There was someone back there. You felt a sudden chill sweep over your shoulders. 

Taking a deep breath, you counted to three under your breath before you yanked at the knob, throwing the door open. 

Mark fell over, having been leaning on the door, and dropped to his side.

“Mark,” you gasped, recognizing him in a heartbeat. He was familiar to you, even in this disheveled state. 

He said something, eyes wide as he glanced at you, but you couldn’t make it out. There was tape over his mouth. 

You sat him up, crouching down onto your knees. After you had gotten him upright, you looked into his eyes and warned, “This is gonna hurt like a bitch. I’m sorry.”

With no further warning, you ripped the tape straight off in one clean jerk. 

Mark recoiled in pain. “Goddamn!”

You winced, as if you were the one hurting. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mark replied, exhaling a breath of relief. He looked like he was simply happy that you had found him and he didn’t die in that storage room, which you understood. You could finally relax knowing he was physically okay. 

As you cautiously undid the tape binding his arms and legs, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort than necessary, you asked, “Who the hell did this to you?”

Mark shrugged. He looked like he had been through hell and back without taking absolutely any detours. His skin was damp with sweat you could feel through his clothes. There was a faint patch of blood on his skin and you assumed he’d been attacked. “I don’t know.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“They came up from behind me while I was walking in the hallway,” Mark explained, stretching his limbs now that they were free. “I never saw their face. And when I came to, I was tied up in the closet.”

That only confused you even more. Obviously, there was something they didn’t want Mark to interfere with, but a bullet to the head seemed like a much more practical solution than tying him up and hiding his body. “Well, they didn’t kill you,” you pointed out. 

Mark nodded, sighing. “Yeah, but why?”

You sighed too. Like hell you knew. You had been expecting more bodies, more casualties. There no was no doubt you were grateful Mark wasn’t dead, but it still threw you off. “You were right.”

“Of course, I was,” Mark chirped, even though he had know idea what you were going on about. “So, what was I right about?”

“Johnny,” you told him quietly, almost like you were ashamed. Maybe you were. “He’s not what I thought he was. He’s one of us. And I was his sub.”

Mark gawked. A part of him had seen it like that coming, but it wasn’t like he had happily anticipated it. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

You tangled your hand through your hair, because now you were thinking about it and it was breaking your heart all over again. You had fallen six feet under for his deceit. The man you loved and thought you knew was just another proxy that had been contracted to take you out. Only this time, he had actually gotten close. 

“It gets worse,” you replied, forcing yourself to remember everything that had gone down in the past hour. “He claims to be Toxic. And he says that Doyoung is the Emperor.”

The first part seemed to surprise Mark more than the second and his brows knitted. “Wait, they sent Toxic after you instead of Backstabber? Why? I thought his function was just to poison people and leave. You guys have been together for months.”

“Why would he lie?”

Mark shrugged. “Maybe he’s the Emperor.”

You could literally feel your bones chilling. That was what Doyoung had said, and now Mark seemed to believe it too. You didn’t know what to think. “Johnny says Doyoung is the Emperor, but Doyoung says it’s Johnny. I don’t know who to trust.”

Marked mulled it over. There was a lot of catching up to do, all things considered. He shook his head, frowning. “What is your gut telling you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. You couldn’t even trust your instincts anymore, even after relying on them your whole life. Johnny had told you to trust your gut and kick everything else to the curb. But how could you when you didn’t know what it was trying to say?

You had learned to bridle it, but it never completely stopped. It became a whisper instead of a scream. And now there was a dull echo. 

“Come on,” Mark encouraged, grasping your shoulders. “Think. Forget everything you feel right now just for a second and think. You were in a unit with Doyoung for a year and you’ve spent the past however many months practically glued to Johnny’s hip. What did they say? How did they say it?”

You blinked. “Mark, I can’t.”

Mark shook his head. “Yes, you can. I know you want to move on from this life, but you never will if we can’t make it out of there. We need the clever assassin. Let her come out one last time and then kill her.”

You sucked in a breath, willing yourself to get back in shape. The clever assassin. The lethal proxy. The woman you thought was dead and buried. Now more than ever, you needed her back. One last time. “Someone shot the front desk lady. Uh, close range like Margo. Johnny was covered in blood. I thought it was him at first. Doyoung said he saw him shoot her with no mercy.”

“You said at first,” Mark pointed out. “Do you not think so anymore?”

You were reluctant for a minute, but you finally said, “They don’t have guns. They were both trying to convince me to give them mine, but I told them to fuck off.”

Mark was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Someone took all of the guns from the inventory, but I don’t know where they are, and they both looked desperate for a weapon. Which means someone else is here too. But Johnny couldn’t have shot the receptionist if he didn’t have the means.”

“So, Doyoung lied,” Mark concluded. 

You shrugged. It seemed like the whole room was reeling at this point. “I guess so.”

Mark mumbled something under his breath, likely in shock as he processed the new information. “Then, the only question left is what are they so scared of?”

“Or who,” you replied quietly. 

Mark stood up. The solution seemed obvious to him. “We gotta go.”

Your eyes followed him. “And do what? We need a plan if we’re going to go out in the open.”

Mark shook his head. “Are you serious? Doyoung is guilty as all hell. And that means he probably killed my sister. You have a gun. Let’s go put a bullet in his head and get the hell out of this dump.”

“Wait, Mark,” you replied, standing up and grabbing his arm. “Let’s just think about this for a little longer.”

“What’s left to think about?” Mark asked grimly. 

“Let’s say Johnny is telling the truth. He’s Toxic and Doyoung is the Emperor,” you started, lowering your reach to his hands. “That means they’re trying to kill each other even though they work together. Why?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders again. “No idea. What did Johnny tell you?”

You thought about that interaction you’d had with Johnny on the second floor, where he’d confessed to being complicit in the nightmare you were currently living. “He said that this trip was the only way to kill Doyoung, but I don’t get why he would want to kill his boss.”

“I do,” Mark replied. “Think about it. You’re Johnny’s sub. The cold case excluded, when has it ever taken you months to kill someone?”

Your lips were in a line. You didn’t want to entertain the idea that Johnny genuinely cared about you, because you didn’t want to be wrong. But he said it himself he had ample opportunity to leave you for dead. He never did. 

“Never.”

“Exactly,” Mark said. “He’s obviously stalling. If Doyoung is his direct boss and he’s been assigned to help pick us all off for being in that unit, he’s not gonna wanna go through with killing you, especially if he really loves you.”

You chewed that over. There was something about your affection for Johnny that triggered your fight or flight instincts in a way you’d never experienced before. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it was suffocating. 

“It’s your call,” Mark told you, patting you on the shoulder. “We can always kill them both if that makes you happier.”

You laughed for the first time in a long time, but you knew that wasn’t what you wanted. You were just so scared. Fear was one of the most natural human emotions and yet you were so ashamed to be afraid. It made you feel out of control. “No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I think I know what I need to do.”

“Then, let’s go,” Mark said, waving you forward with his hand.

With one final breath, you nodded and silently followed Mark out of the bar through the double doors. You hoped you were making the right decision. This was beyond life or death. You weren’t afraid to die. You were afraid of dying alone. 

When in the hallway, there was a light in one of the rooms on the right side. You and Mark exchanged glances, noticing that the door was ajar. It looked like a laundry room, likely connecting to a sauna or pool. There were a bunch of white towels stacked on top of each other from what you could see.

“You go ahead. I’m gonna check this out,” Mark told you, distracted.

You narrowed your eyes. Did he seriously think you were going to leave him alone? He’d just barely survived being thrown into a closet to rot like an animal. “Mark, no. You don’t have a weapon. Come on, it’s just a closet.”

As if he didn’t hear a word you said, Mark walked off. “Five minutes.”

You shook your head in disbelief, but there was no opportunity to argue, because he had already disappeared. 

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled under your breath, disgruntled. That boy had a death wish. You were practically certain of it now. What had he seen that made him want to investigate instead of minding his own business? A ghost?

The more you walked into the lobby, the less confident you were beginning to feel. You couldn’t afford to be wrong. Even if you weren’t afraid of death, there were more lives at stake than just your own. You had Mark to take care of, even if he was perfectly capable of defending himself, and you had honor. 

It was everything in your world. You may not have been on a team anymore, but if there was anything the league did teach you other than how to be a lethal, unstoppable bullet no one would ever see coming, it was that you didn’t leave your family to die. And it was a principle you still followed despite your reproach for the network. 

With how you had grown up, taken under the wing of a hawk to become an even deadlier hawk, you knew there was no one you could really trust. Hardly even yourself. 

But you also knew that living life with no one really, truly by your side was lonely. 

You didn’t even need to look for Johnny. He was creeping down the hallway with quick, soundless steps, totally not looking suspicious. When his eyes locked on you, he went rigidly still. 

“Johnny,” you called out faintly. 

Johnny put his index finger up to his lip, shushing you, and approached you ever so slightly. With the gun in your grip and your evident distrust of him, he wasn’t taking any chances. His voice was light as a feather as he said your name. “I know I had you under the impression that I was some oasis away from this world and I apologize. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever.”

The sudden apology had you taken aback, even though you tried to stay on guard. It was hard when you were around Johnny. Your body was so used to being at ease when you were with him, not registering him as a threat. “You never hurt me.”

“I never hurt you,” Johnny repeated, knowing what you’d meant by that. He had never physically caused you any pain - not more than you’d bargained for, at least. “And I hope you can believe me when I say that I never plan to. If nothing else is, my feelings for you are real. The thought of hurting you alone makes me angry.”

You silently took his words in. They sounded so genuine, so affectionate. You were good at recognizing lies when you heard them, but it was clear by now that you were a little weak in that regard when you were blinded by emotion. Your judgment was clouded. 

Johnny glanced over his shoulder and continued, “That’s why I have to do this. That’s why I have to kill Doyoung. He knows that I won’t go through with the order and he won’t rest until one of us is dead.”

“That’s why you want the gun,” you replied, realizing Mark had been right. Johnny cared about you too much to let you die. 

Johnny looked over his shoulder again, like he was being watched. Or followed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was trying to stay clear of his boss. “Give me the gun and I can end this. We can meet my mom. We can go any place in the goddamn world. We can settle down if that’s what you want.”

Footsteps echoed in the halls. They weren’t coming from behind you, so you knew it wasn’t Mark. It was someone else. 

“Please,” Johnny replied, surprising you. You’d never heard him beg for a damn thing in the entire time you’d known him. 

You swallowed, weighing your options. There weren’t many. Either you gave him the gun or you kept it for yourself. You just couldn’t understand why he was so adamant on having it, if not to turn it on you at some point. “Why do you need the gun? Why can’t I do it?” you asked quietly. 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

Your heart thumped with an intense, deep tremor. Those words were weirdly sentimental to you in a way that was inexplicable. He was willing to take the blame so that you wouldn’t have a mark on your back. You believed him. If Doyoung was the Emperor, that made him one of the most influential figures in the underground. His death would send shock waves through the league and likely even through the public. 

The syndicate would have its revenge. No one would take out its Emperor and not be penalized accordingly for it, but you thought about it some more. Not only would the lack of power weaken them, but there was a way to take advantage of the situation at hand. 

So you gave Johnny the gun, holding your breath. He accepted it. 

The footsteps drew closer, louder. Johnny pulled you behind him and whipped around. 

It all happened in a blink. 

A gunshot echoed out. Your ears rang from the loud noise and you shuddered, only vaguely remembering the last time you had heard something so deadly. You thought you would be numb. It used to feel like nothing. Right now, however, staring down at where the bullet had pierced Doyoung squarely between the eyes, the feeling in your chest teetered toward relief. 

“Damn,” Johnny replied, handing you back the gun. “I’m still a damn good shot. What can’t I do?”

It took you a second, but you managed a laugh. The sight was surreal, but something told you that you’d made the right choice. 

Johnny rubbed his temple. He was clearly relieved too. “Alright, trivia time. You were in a unit for a year tasked with knowing everything about us. What do you know about me?”

“Uh, you’ve been dealing with poison for at least a decade. You’re the best poison specialist in the league and you learned in America, but you do dirty business with chemists all over the globe so that there’s less of a trail, which has made you a super pain in the ass,” you replied, reciting everything you knew from memory. 

The longer you thought about it, the more sense it made. Johnny had been hiding in plain sight this entire time and you’d had no idea. The thought made you somewhat uneasy, but you also had to admit that you were impressed.

“You’re forgetting the part where I’m his right hand.”

You gawked. “You’re what?”

Johnny chuckled, glancing at Doyoung’s lifeless corpse with no remorse. “Well, I was two minutes ago, that is. I’m the Emperor now.” 

Now that was a surprise. You knew their functions, but you had never understood the exact hierarchy system in the syndicate. “Johnny, what the...”

Johnny looked more than enthusiastic to explain, but his gaze quickly became distracted. By the time you caught the flicker of motion that had stolen his attention, it was too late. 

You tensed when you heard another gunshot rang out in the hallway. You and Johnny instinctively both clung to each other, shuddering with the same fear. 

Sol slumped to the ground as quickly as he’d moved.

Mark stepped forward, panting. He pushed his hair out of his face, lowering the weapon he’d somehow gotten ahold of. “Found the guns,” he announced, scratching his head.

You sighed in relief, but your eyes were wide with confusion. Sol must have stolen them, not that that made any sense whatsoever. “I thought he was dead?”

“That’s what Doyoung told me,” Mark said, glancing between the two very dead, bleeding bodies on the floor. “Damn, that’s a clean shot.”

“Thank you,” Johnny chirped, simpering.

You shook your head, emptying the chamber of the gun you were holding and handing it over to Johnny. “Get this damn thing away from me.”

The grin on Johnny’s face turned upside down when he heard your tone. “Hey, it’s done. It’s over.”

Mark smiled, watching you both from afar. There was a bittersweet feeling in his heart at the thought of what he’d lost and the sight of what you’d gained. “It’s over,” he echoed. 

You nodded, holding onto Johnny like you would die without him. Though you still couldn’t help but notice he was still covered in blood. “So why are you wearing blood if you didn’t kill the lady at the front desk?”

“I got into a little fight with that guy. I had no idea you knew him,” Johnny replied, lifting his shirt and revealing a bloody gash. 

You gawked. “You got stabbed?”

Johnny laughed. “You didn’t notice, right?”

“You have a pain tolerance even a masochist would bitch about,” you said, shaking your head. “I should have known. You have all those tattoos.”

“Never trust a guy with tattoos,” Johnny said jokingly. 

You snickered. “No, absolutely never.”

Mark seemed to have finally caught his breath. “Hey, Johnny guy. So, there’s not a team of snipers sitting outside this place?”

Johnny shook his head. “Nah. Doyoung really had it out for you guys, wanted to kill you himself.”

Mark sighed. “Where does Sol fit in all this? Doyoung said he was poisoned.”

Johnny shrugged. “Doyoung’s lied to you guys a lot, even all those years ago. He was planting fake clues to lead you guys astray, but you were still getting closer than he thought you would. So he threw in the towel.”

Hearing that made you frown. You’d looked up to Doyoung, admired him even. You hated that things had to end this way. “So is Margo really dead?”

“Who? That girl in your unit you were talking about on the plane?” Johnny asked. “I don’t know.”

Mark’s face fell. 

Your heart ached. Untangling yourself from Johnny’s arms, you walked over to Mark and pulled him in for a hug. “Go,” you whispered. “Look for her.”

“I have a better idea,” Johnny said. “If we get somewhere with better service, I can ask my team. If she’s dead, one of them probably know. Doyoung hasn’t been telling me stuff anymore for obvious reasons.”

Mark glanced at Johnny from over your shoulder. “You’re serious, dude? You’d do that?”

“A friend of the woman I love is a friend of mine. I can do a small favor. I have to let them know Doyoung’s dead anyway.”

Your heart warmed, but a question lingered over your head as you released Mark, and you asked, “But won’t they bark when they find out you killed him?”

Johnny’s shoulders shook as he laughed. There was a very, very tiny possibility, but that was why he took the kill. “Who said they had to find out? Dead men tell no tales.”

It was your turn to laugh. No one ever had to know. You could keep a secret, especially if it meant you’d be free from this hell. “I guess that’s true,” you replied, nodding. “Dead men tell no tales.”

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 2: Roleplay - Ghostface!Steve Harrington

Summary: It had been your idea to dress up for Halloween as characters from Scream but what happens when you forget it’s Steve under the mask.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), roleplay, fear play, mask kink, being chased, discussion of safe words, groping, fingering, edging, hair pulling, rough sex, hand over mouth, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“I think I'm getting old”, came the frustrated grumble from your tired, fussy boyfriend Steve Harrington. His words weren’t boisterous as he muttered them under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at the costume laid out for him on the bed.

Not reacting to him immediately, you continue applying the eyeshadow to your eyelid, smiling as you peeked at him in the mirror, his hands resting on his hips. Biting your lip to refrain from grinning or laughing, you innocently asked, “Why’s that Stevie?”

“Because I don’t want to go to this stupid party! I just wanna stay in and watch movies”. Steve began running his fingers through his recently washed hair, the ends curling gently over the tips of his shoulders but fluffy in texture as he had yet to style it with spray and gel.

You placed your brush on the dressing table and gave him your full attention in the mirror's reflection. “It's not a stupid party; it’s a Halloween party! There’s a difference”, you say enthusiastically to try and perk up his spirits. Steve continued to look down at the bed, only raising an eyebrow in a half-ass attempt at showing his excitement, so you turned on your stool, facing directly towards him. Sighing forcefully, you stood and approached with long, sweeping steps. “Come on! It’s only this one party, and then we can stay in for the rest of the year!” Trying to use all your manipulative tactics to sweeten him up. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, your arms circled his waist, lifting his strong arms to settle over your shoulders.

Steve finally managed to tear his gaze away from the costume and towards you, but only so he could dramatically pout out his full bottom lip, his long, thick eyelashes curling up and nearly stroking his eyebrows as you melted into his warm coffee-coloured eyes. He was so handsome, and he didn’t even have to try.

Your nimble fingers slid beneath his shirt to feel the soft skin of his hips as you continued to try and elevate his excitement, “It’ll be fine, Steve, I promise”. Lifting onto your tiptoes, you captured his pouted lips with a brief, sweet kiss.

“It’s just not the same as they used to be. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive us there so it’ll save us some time to get back home again?” Steve asked as his hands smoothed over your bare shoulders, pulling you flush against his body and his warmth seeping into your skin.

You pulled away a step to give him a deadpan look, “It’s only a block away. I’m sure you’ll survive, and anyway, if you hate it, we can leave at any point”.

“Promise?”

“I promise, but we are still going. I’ve spent way too much money on the costumes to let them go to waste”, you explain whilst pulling out of his hold and sitting back in front of the mirror to continue finishing your makeup.

Steve’s attention returned to his costume, picking up the black cloak and white mask and holding it out in front of him. “Ok, I can take a quick guess as to who I’m dressing up as, but who are you supposed to be?”

You were still in your underwear, but to show him who you meant, you quickly flicked on the shoulder-length blonde wig and turned to him. “I’m Casey Becker, you know, Drew Barrymore, the girl that got killed at the start of Scream. I’m her after your Ghostface character kills me”, you explain whilst pointing to the wool cream jumper covered in splotches of deep red fake blood to match the stains on your neck and chest.

“Right”, Steve mutters before chewing on his lip, fingers once more returning to stroke through his hair before he reluctantly moves to the bathroom to continue getting ready, costume in hand.

You smiled triumphantly to yourself and continued getting ready, dressed in the simple jeans and once-cream jumper now decorated with fake stab wounds.

Waiting impatiently for Steve, with your arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, you gently knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “You ready in there, Ghostface?”

As if he was waiting for you, the door swung open almost immediately, making you jump back on instinct, but the sight before you caused a deep warmth to flush through your body. The white scream mask was resting on the top of his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes so you could still see his face, but seeing Steve in the black cloak was doing something erotic to your body; you knew this outfit would be the right decision. 

Steve's mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he noticed how you shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching your eyes unfocus as they travelled up the length of his lean body, and he knew that you were becoming aroused. Confidence pumped through his veins as his spine straightened so he could pump his chest out slightly before casually leaning against the door frame, his ankle crossed over the other.

“Let me guess, you’re into this? You little freak”, he trailed off as he visually inspected your costume. Even though it wasn’t revealing anyway, his pupils expanded as he bit his lip hungrily.

Blinking quickly and shaking your head, you tried to snap your attention back to him and not all of the nasty thoughts of him wearing this costume whilst pleasuring you. Glancing away from him, you tried to remain casual and calm, “I don’t know what you mean, Harrington. Come on, let’s go, we’re already late”.

The two of you walked in the moonlight, the streetlights blinking from being faulty, but that didn’t stop the two of you from swinging your clasped hands between your bodies. Steve still had his mask pushed up onto his head so that he could watch his step and still look towards you and his vision not be distorted.

“So what is it that you like? Is it the violence? The costume? The evilness? The murder”, he extended the last word as he dipped his face and knocked his forehead against your cheek as you pushed him away laughing.

You didn’t answer him, but he was sure to have noticed how warm your face was and the unsubtle looks you were giving him from the corner of your eye. To be frank, you were near enough drooling over him in the slash killer costume. You weren’t sure what it was; maybe you were falling into the fantasy, knowing the character was a psycho killer but had your beautiful boyfriend's face, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you but still looked scary and murderous.

Steve continued talking, not phased by your silence, “Maybe I should wear this costume when we get home, especially as it’s getting you so hot and bothered. I haven’t seen you like this since I was in my scoops ahoy sailors outfit”. His sizeable, warm hand squeezed yours to show he was teasing as his shoulder bumped into yours.

“Will you stop it? We’re nearly there, and then you can go and annoy someone else”, you say matter-of-factly.

Steve scoffs, “Why would I want to do that when I seem to be doing such a good job of annoying you?”. Without missing a beat, he released your hand, but only so he could wrap his arms around your waist to spin you around on the spot, causing you to scream out and kick your legs to try and make him put you down.

“Steve, stop!” you laughed despite the harshness of your tone. Thankfully, when he finally placed you back onto your two feet, he kissed your lips, then returned to holding your hand and tugging you along for the rest of the journey towards the party.

Once the two of you had arrived, he kept his mask down, which was where you became even more confused and momentarily forgot that it was Steve and not a random guy. Especially as he kept quietly stalking up next to you, and after a few times of you jumping in freight, he found his new favourite game for the night; the drinking and the dancing were not his priority with his plans for the night.

Steve even managed to sneak into the bathroom as he overheard you saying to Robin that you were about to go and use it. He hid behind the shower curtain, waiting for you to use the toilet before sliding behind your warm body as you washed your hands, his hands caging around you, forcing your hips into the countertop.

You screamed in fright as his mask hovered close to the shell of your ear. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” he asked, trying to use a low voice to copy the movie.

For a second, you forgot it was Steve, the thumping from your heart showing your anxiety until it all returned to you. Glaring at him in the mirror whilst clutching your chest, you chastised him, “Steve! You scared the fucking shit out of me, stop doing that!”

Steve only laughed at your reaction, loosening his hold around you enough that you could turn in his arms and push up his mask to see his hair wet from sweat sticking to his forehead and a broad smile across his handsome face.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you; it’s only me! Anyway, I don’t know why you keep freaking out; you’re the one who wanted me to wear this outfit”.

You were about to continue telling him off when he cut you off with a simple press of his lips against yours, lingering for a second and capturing your breath before pulling away, his lids heavy as he stared at the area where you were both just connected. He always knew how to win you around again, and you instantly found yourself forgiving him for the jump scare.

Gently you shoved his chest before gripping a handful of the black cloak, mumbling, “Asshole, I thought we were supposed to be a team”.

Steve’s gloved fingers tipped your chin so you’re forced to look up at him as he gave you a condescending head tilt. “Aww, you don’t have to be scared of me, Princess. I won’t hurt you. Unless that’s what you want, hmm?” his voice lowered as he pushed his body further against yours, his chest brushing against yours as his face dropped closer. He was so close that you could smell the beer on his breath, and you were entirely ready to fall into whatever he had planned, which, with the look he was giving you, was something naughty.

However, all of your hopes and dreams for having a quick fuck were destroyed as Steve dramatically bellowed, “Maybe I’ll gut you like a fish! Blah”, he began to act out, stabbing your stomach with the retractable plastic knife that was a part of the costume.

A heavy sigh left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him as he pretended blood was spurting out of your middle, mimicking actions and being his usual goofy self. Usually, you’d be laughing with him. Still, damn, you were distracted and highly hopeful for the other things you had planned, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t gone through with them, especially as you were only seconds away from sinking to your knees and submitting to him.

The party continued for a few more hours, and Steve was more than ready to leave; having stopped drinking at midnight, he was getting to the end of his social battery. You were, too, so the two of you, thankfully, exited the silent streets hand in hand. You looked significantly different from when you’d arrived; the wig was missing as others had been trying it on, and now, it had disappeared, and the make-up and fake blood had mostly sweated off from your brief stints of dancing.

On the other hand, Steve still looked effortlessly beautiful, with his outfit still looking the same, but you were sure he must have been sweating under the thick, dark material.

Halfway home, your steps were abruptly halted as Steve stopped, patting over his clothes, looking for something, and cursing loudly when he couldn’t find it. “Shit, fuck! I left the keys at the party!”

“What! Steve, I’m not walking back there. Why did you even take them out of your pocket?!” you rub your tired eyes, frustrated and adamant that you wouldn’t walk the small distance back to the party.

Steve gave you an apologetic smile, and his lips pressed together firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, I’ll only be a minute; just wait here.” He turned and began jogging back to the party, around the corner and out of your sight.

Standing in the quiet Halloween night, the chill from the autumnal breeze ran more profound than just your skin as you became instantly unnerved by being on your own as the streetlamp at the end of the street continued to flick on and off. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and keep yourself warm, you quietly whispered to yourself for Steve to hurry up, wanting nothing more than to be in bed with his arms wrapped around you.

“Come on, Stevie”, you pleaded under your breath, the warmth of it fogging in the air in front of your face. Dancing on the spot slightly, you moved your numbing fingers down your sides to slide them into your back pockets to steal some heat, but then they were interrupted by the cool metal of your door keys. “Shit!” you fumed, not remembering that you’d had the keys on you the entire time, and Steve didn’t forget them and had made a wasted trip.

Staring in the direction he’d left again, you internally cursed yourself, knowing that Steve would return pissed off and irritable with you. Deciding that it would probably save some time if you also returned to the party to find Steve, you took a single step back down the street, but a branch crack splintered through the air. Your head twisted toward the noise, but all you could see were twisting, endless shadows that even the occasional flash of the street light couldn’t illuminate.

Taking a deep breath to try and steady the nerves that were tremouring through your body, enough so that you clasped your fingers together to see if that would cease the movements. Maybe you were paranoid, but you could have sworn someone was watching. You wouldn’t even say it was paranoia anymore as you were sure someone was watching because the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck stood on end.

MybMaybe was just some drunken kids from the party or someone in one of the homes that lined the streets looking out of the window to see who was standing on the sidewalk. However, you couldn’t spot any curtains opening or see any drunken person stumbling with their steps.

You weren’t sure what to do; usually, when you felt uncomfortable or frightened, you would be with Steve, and he’d do anything to pull you out of the situation. You could run back to your home, but then you’d be there all by yourself, and then what would happen when Steve left the party to find that you weren’t waiting for him anymore? Maybe you could go back towards the party and meet Steve, but that also meant you’d be walking past the area where the loud noise had come from.

“Is anyone there?!” you shouted in the general direction of the noise, hoping it would draw people's attention or frighten off whoever was there.

“Don’t you watch scary movies? You’re never supposed to shout who’s there”. Out of the shadows creeped Ghostface, his mask down and the plastic knife in his gloved hand at his side.

Thankfully, for once, due to your body being on high alert, you instantly remembered that this was Steve and not a stranger and recognised his voice, which had been challenging to do at the party.

Clutching your chest, you sucked in a greedy breath, “Steve! You fucking scared me. Why the hell would you do that?” Steve didn’t respond. He just casually strolled forward, almost swaggering with his steps, masked head tilted slightly. Trying to calm your pounding heart, you nervously pulled the keys out of your back pocket to show him, I’ve got the keys. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I had them in my jeans pockets”. You rambled on, the nerves continuing to take over your body as he didn’t say anything, just taking step after step towards you.

The keys in your hand rattled from your shakes, and finally, instinct took over as you took a giant step backwards, away from Steve. Your thoughts were all over the place. This was Steve; you could tell by the height and build, and it had been his voice that had spoken/ However, the way he was walking towards you like he was searching for his prey, his next victim, the thrill of it all gave you the wrong reaction, despite your fear, you were getting turned on by it.

Warmth bloomed in the apples of your cheeks that spread through your chest and deep into your abdomen, nipples pebbling beneath your jumper and rubbing against the inside of your bra. With each step that Steve took forward, you’d take one backwards, a game of cat and mouse ensuring. 

A moment of silence passed, the two of you just staring at one another, until he lifted his fake knife and your eyes were drawn to this as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to run, Princess?”

It was an automatic response, the flight or fight intuition kicking in as you immediately ran. You ran like there was an actual killer after you, adrenaline and fear pulsing through your veins that helped keep your instincts on high alert as you ran toward your home. Even though your home wasn’t far away, it still felt like an eternity of running, the muscles straining and chest burning from sucking cold air desperately as you finally collided with your front door.

You’d been unable to hear Steve close behind you, but you didn’t waste any time, fingers trembling as you pressed the key into the lock and turned, rushing inside, slamming the door closed, and flicking the lock.

You waited, listening and waiting for him to bang on the door, but only silence greeted you from outside and the thumping of your terrified heart and heavy breaths in your ear. Steve didn’t turn up; even as you looked through the door's peephole, he still wasn’t there, so you took a few steps away, frowning in confusion.

Then it dawned on you. The back door. The back door, where Steve knew where the keys were hidden in the plant pot.

Spinning quickly, your sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floor as you’d intended to run to the back door to check it was still closed, but a prominent dark figure blocked your route. Once again, you knew it was Steve, even from how he was breathing heavily, the outline of his broader form and the faint smell of his aftershave that you could smell now that he was closer.

You weren’t entirely sure how far he wanted to go with this playing around, but you were not going to ruin the moment and willing to see just what Steve had in mind.

Taking a shaky step backwards away from the figure, you lifted your hands, palms up in defeat. “My boyfriend will be home soon, and he’s big; he’ll kick your ass”, your voice wobbled, which was half put on by you but also a little bit truthful with the anticipation.

Ghostface chuckled lowly, his head tilting, and the dominance and lure of the sight had your insides clenching with need. 

“Oh, your boyfriend won’t be helping you tonight. No one will”, Steve stated confidently and didn’t give you any warning before he bolted forward. The rush caused you to jump and scream, turning and running in the opposite direction, but it was a useless attempt as his arms wrapped around your waist, pushing forward until you were flush against the wall, his chest hard against your back. You struggled and whimpered in his hold, trying to sound as desperate as possible, but Steve held firm but not enough to hurt.

The mark was next to your ear as he growled, “Now, where do you think you’re going, huh? I thought we could have some fun. What do you say?” You struggled against but mostly so you could grind your ass against his hips, showing him you wanted to keep playing.

However, your lack of words had your boyfriend freezing, the tone of his voice softening as he whispered, “Colour?”

Huffing out a laugh at his concern and momentary slip of the roleplay, you whispered against the wall, “Very fucking green”. You found it endearing that he still ensured you were okay and wanted to continue.

That seemed to be the last of the friendly acts, however, as Steve pushed harder against your body until your cheek was firm against the cool wallpapered wall, the plastic of his mask against the back of your neck. His gloved hands shifted lower over the front of your body, over the mounds of your breasts, your jumper-covered navel and past your hips until he was cupping your jean-covered cunt with a deep moan that rumbled against your back.

It was an automatic response to mewl and rolled your hips into the hold, feeling the pressure from your underwear digging into your clit but needing more. Your noises turned back into whimpers as his fingers quickly snapped over the button of your jeans, and his hand disappeared beneath the material until he was cupping you again, but this time directly to your skin. You pulled your hips away this time, but primarily because of the uncomfortable material; his gloves were cheap synthetic material and were rough against your sensitive, throbbing clit as his palm pressed against it.

Steve chuckled, the tips of his index and middle finger close to your entrance, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to finger you with the rough material; you weren’t sure it would feel nice, but this wasn’t what he was laughing at. “You’re such a desperate little thing aren’t you? I can feel how wet you are through the gloves”.

Your entire body warmed in embarrassment. You should have guessed that he would have felt how turned on you are, especially with how you could feel the slick gathered in your underwear, but you hadn’t considered him feeling it through the gloves.

Ghostface, always the one to tease and humiliate, then did something that had your gasps turning into surprise and shock. The pressure of his glove hand disappeared from between your legs, and from your position, you could see it disappear beneath his mask, where a sucking noise could then be heard as he devoured the juices from the fabric gloves.

“S-St-“ his name was on the tip of your tongue, mostly on instinct to submit to him by moaning his name, but you were also cut off by a deep, gravely groan as the man trapping you against the wall showed you just how much he loved your taste. His hips rolled against your lower back first, thrusting his clothed but painfully hard cock into you, then his hand reappeared from beneath the mask, but this time without the glove as he’d pulled it off with his teeth and dropped onto the floor.

“Why is it you always taste so much better when you’re scared?” he continues to taunt, and you knew it wasn’t a normal reaction, but your pussy clenched so hard that Ghostface had to wait a moment before he was able to push his fingers back into your underwear and his middle and ring finger penetrated your eagerly awaiting hole.

You rose onto your tip toes whilst attempting to back into him to rub yourself against him, but he held you firmly against the wall. His fingers did not waste any time either as they gathered the slick to coat the entire length of his two digits and pumped in and out with a slight curl as he pulled out.

Once more, it was on instinct that your hips were rocking to match his movements, pleasuring pounding into your core as your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your parted lips that you wouldn’t be able to hold back even if you tried to What’s more the position was adding to the thrill, your hands sprayed and pressed against the cool wall, your cheek aching from the pressure of being pushed forward and the warm body surrounding your entire back with the plastic part of his masks against the back of your head as he rested his temple against you, watching and listening to every little noise that he caused you to make. 

Ghostface doesn’t stop pleasuring you, his fingers continuing to pump into you as his palm occasionally pressed firmly against your clit, adding more stimulation. You were a sopping wet mess that could feel that familiar tightening between your legs. Where his fingers curled, and strokes began to harden as your orgasm tingled on the very edge; just one or two more movements and you’d be right there.

But Ghostface knew you were getting to that point, could hear and see how close you were, and he wasn’t having that, not yet anyway, so he swiftly pulled his hand out of your underwear.

“Uh uh, I don’t think so. Did you really think I’d let you cum? Definitely not; where would be the fun in that?” he laughs to emphasise his mocking, making you feel degraded and mind-muddled from needing him to continue pleasuring you but also wanting to push him away so he could stop being so mean.

With your minimal room, you tried to force your elbow into his stomach, but he could already sense your move and began sharply tugging on your hair with his still-wet fingers. His other arm circled your middle, helping with his grip and plan to move you away from the wall. Due to his taller size, he could easily manipulate you to walk in the direction of the kitchen; both of you can only walk without hitting any furniture due to muscle memory and the thin slither of light streaking through the blinds from the blinking street light.

Breath rushed out of you as Ghostface pushed you over your wooden table, your hands and face again pressed against the surface. You were dazed from the fingering, so you didn’t immediately react when he roughly pulled down your jeans and underwear until they were discarded somewhere in the darkness. In actuality, you sighed in relief from having the air breeze over your aching cunt and only responded with your own needs as your hips wiggled enticingly towards the man behind you.

This was rewarded with a sharp smack to your left arse cheek, halting any fuzzy happiness you’d been wrapped in. A leg shifted between your legs, shifting them further apart as the sound of clothes shuffling was heard from behind you as Ghostface began to lift his cloak and bunch it around his hips.

You weren’t able to see him correctly over your shoulder, but your pussy clenched with anticipation, especially as you were only able to see the mask. It still scared you, but knowing it was Steve only made you back up into him until his cock was suddenly being thrust between your arse cheeks.

“Careful now, Princess, don’t want to be stabbed with something now, do we?” Ghostface chuckled right before he slipped his cock, inch after inch, into your pulsing hole. He wasn’t slow; he moved with intent, wanting it to be overwhelming, which is just what you wanted, and automatically, you raised onto your tip toes even whilst leaning over the table.

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyes shutting as all thoughts focused on the fullness you felt between your legs and the desperate need for more.

“Nope, none of that, don’t want the neighbours hearing or your boyfriend, got to keep nice and quiet whilst I fuck whats mines”, Ghostface grunted sharply as the hand that was still gloved now wrapped around your mouth, so you were forced to breathe heavily out of your nose.

On instinct, you gripped his wrist but didn’t pull away and just tried to concentrate on controlling your breaths as his hips began to move in short, quick rotations. In and out, sloppy fast thrusts that had deep warmth radiating from your cunt and down your thighs.

Sweat was gathering over your body from behind, stimulated and so close to Ghostface, who was also like a human radiator with all his clothes layers. You could feel that he had been wearing jeans as they brushed with each thrust against your sensitive thighs, and it only again reminded you that this was Steve as your hips shifted back to meet his.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure increasing again like it had just before you moved away from the hallway wall. You wanted to cum, no, you needed to cum, wanting to soak Ghostface’s jeans with your juices, wanting to be good for the fake murderer and show that you could cum on his cock.

“You wanna cum? I can feel you getting tighter”, Ghostface asked next to your ear, his voice rough and gravely from where he was out of breath.

He momentarily released his cover of your mouth to allow you to speak, “Yes, please!”.

Ghostface wanted to laugh at your polite response, already knowing you were slipping into a submissive headspace from the way you were backing up to meet his thrusts and holding onto his wrist like it was your lifeline. But he wanted to keep the roleplaying going for a little longer, even though he was desperate to hear your sweet orgasmic mewls.

His hand again covered your lips as he tutted, “No, I don’t think so. I’m going to cum first, and then you can cum, but not until I do.”

You cried against his palm, feeling like your breath was stuck in your throat as you tried to control your euphoria, but it was difficult to do that and breathe through your nose.

Dizziness swayed through your mind as you slumped against the table, releasing your hold of his wrist as you needed to try and control yourself. Ghostface noticed the change and would have kissed the back of your head if he didn’t have his mask on, so he finally allowed you some comfort by releasing his hold on your mouth, letting you suck in deep breaths that filled your lungs.

This allowed him to hold onto your hips, holding you still and fucking deeper, his bulbous tip brushing against your cervix and thighs bruising into the edge of the table. Faster and harder, he moved, chasing his orgasm until finally his balls tightened to his body, and his shaft hardened with each spurt of hot seed that began to coat your inner walls.

You could feel it and hear Ghostfaces’ orgasm, and you finally relaxed the mental torture of holding back your orgasm and came with him. Your walls clenched in quick flutters that helped to milk the last drops of Ghostface’s cum before he collapsed over your back, mask resting on your shoulder and hands on either side of your head.

The two of you were breathing heavily, too lost in the moment even to talk before he moved first. Starting with a gasp, Steve pulled off his face, and you could see over your shoulder that his hair was drenched, sticking to his forehead and face gleaming in the small streaks of light.

“Fuck, it was warm in there; they need to make them with a small fan inside or something, holy shit!” Steve sits up slightly but still leaning his hands on either side of your head, and he catches your eye and grins, showing all of his teeth and eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’ve loved this, I’ve missed kissing you” he dipped his face and kissed your cheek, leaving a few drips of his sweat on your skin, but you didn’t care, not when he was looking at you in a way that was making your heart race.

“So that mask, we’re keeping it, right?” you finally speak, voice hoarse as you try to smile over your shoulder at him, feeling his cock softening within you.

“Oh, for sure, you kinky little minx”, he agrees, kissing your cheek again.

[monstersandmaw]

Male 'yautja' x female reader - alien 'reverse harem' - Chapter Two

Due to Patrons' enthusiasm over on Discord and your comments on the previous chapter (thank you!), here's the second chapter! As I said on Discord, this is gonna be a mix of reader POV and 'hunter'/yautja POV. I'm not giving away our friend's name in this one, but future 'hunter' chapters will have their names in. The next chapter is reader POV again, and we meet the rest of the crew.

Also there's this:

(text is a screenshot of a Discord message: Ghosti: It’s basically just an excuse for the reader to boink different aliens (sometimes more than one at once) but I’m really enjoying writing it so far.)

So yeah, this is just a fast track to 'how many aliens can the reader boink?'

Content in this chapter: young (but still adult) horny alien POV, self-deprecating attitude and self-worth issues, non-human anatomy referenced ('slick, sheath'), and his quite severely injured state continues...

Wordcount: 2690

<- previous chapter (free for anyone to read on Patreon)

Preview:

I wake slowly and painfully, blinking up at the ceiling of my ship and wondering how I came to be there, when the last thing I really remember was scrapping with the Enemy.

A series of rattling clicks rises in my throat and my mandibles twitch in indignation. Surely one of the others hasn't come to help me? It was my First Hunt, and they were honour-bound to let me make my first kill, or let me die trying! I had actually thought I was going to die when the Enemy’s tail spike punched through my gut like that. And my shoulder.

Actually, now that I think of it, I’m surprised that I’m alive enough to be surprised at all.

Fuck. Ouch.

Oh, fuck, my guts hurt.

Nothing in training ever hurt like this. It does hurt less than it did when it first happened though, and all because…

…because the human helped me.

Fuck.

Did this even count as a successful First Hunt if… No. I killed it. I ripped its damned head right off. I feel a growl rumble up from my chest and my mandibles flare. Nasty fucker. The growling makes my stomach hurt though, so I force it to stop.

Where is the human now?

Carefully, I sit up and discover that the healing gel has closed off the wounds and kick-started the healing process. My flesh beneath the hardened patches of gel feels itchy where my body is already knitting itself back together, and it’s so tender, but at least it’s healing. I’ve always hated feeling weak and small. Ever since I was a pup and I was made to feel less than worthy because of my runty size. Well fuck everyone who said I’d never make a Blooded Warrior. I’ve found my squad now and we hunt together. And now I’ve completed my First Hunt and killed an Enemy by myself. Even Stark tolerates me, though I can tell he still thought I wouldn't survive this hunt.

Well, I did it, so fuck him. Actually, if I know Stark, it’ll be the big guy getting fucked, not Stark himself. He’s the only one of us who never takes it. Whenever he fucks me, I always end up walking funny afterwards. Bastard. Gods, it always feels so good though…

Despite my injuries, my cock twitches deep in its sheath at the memory of getting pounded by Stark only a few days ago, and I groan. Now’s really not the time to think about being fucked. Alchemist is only a few years older than me, but no one else on our squad seems to have as high a sex drive as I do, damn it. The Old Man says it’s natural and healthy – desired even – in one my age, but I can’t help feeling a bit embarrassed that it takes quite so little to set me off. It’s not like I’m a randy adolescent in the communal barracks anymore. Gods, that was… inconvenient.

Fuck.

All the same, I’m halfway to slicking myself already at the mere memory of Stark’s aggressive snarls and the way his claws had actually punctured the skin at my hips while he drove his cock repeatedly into my dripping wet slit…

Fuck fuck fuck. Not now, you moron.

With another chittering sigh, I ignore the way my sheath is throbbing, and swing my legs off the bed before I leave a mess on the sheets. When my clawed paws hit the cold ceramic floor, I have a go at standing up. It takes me two goes, but I get myself upright eventually, and then I cast about for my helmet.

Read the whole thing right now on Patreon and get access to the 9k word monthly story, featuring a huge Shire centaur who tows the reader's truck for them when they break down...

[skippingstonez]

Bunny Bonding

(Legend x Fem!Reader) Chapter 1 / 2 / 3

Warnings: Mentions of painful transformation. Nothing very explicit but it's there.

‘Too slow!!’ You teased, landing on the ground behind him.

‘Ohh~ you just wait!’ Legend took off. Running towards you as fast as he could only for you to hop right over him once more and dashed off towards where Wild was sitting on the ground.

‘Geez no wonder you need those magic boots!’ You laughed, from where you had hid behind the cook. ‘You're slower than- ahh!’

Anticipating you'd use him as a barrier, Legend snuck up behind you. Springing forward, he tackled you to the ground. Rolling around on the ground before he finally had you pinned.

“Ha! Gotcha ya!”

You laughed. The sound so intoxicating that Legend couldn't help but join you.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would actually enjoy being in this form. The need to survive had always outweighed everything else. Instincts to run, hide, run, hide, run, hide, left no room to simply run for fun. To explore or simply exist.

So when you had bumped into him, taunting him to try and catch you, he humored the idea. Chalking it up as a nice distraction.

It ended up being the most fun he's had in months.

Years even.

“Hylia, get a room you guys!” Wild groans, nudging Legend off of you with his foot. “Or a hole or whatever the equivalent is for bunnies.”

Legend swore his fur turned a darker shade of pink.

“Shut it! Where's that damn rancher? Shouldn't he be back already?”

Per his own insistence, they had stopped a little ways beyond the meeting spot. Opting for Twilight to go and retrieve the sword rather than walk into the spot where the entire chain was likely waiting by this point. Wild stayed behind, not wanting to leave 2 unarmed companions vulnerable which you both appreciated.

‘I'm sure he’ll be back soon.’ You laughed again, easing away the tension.

‘Vet?’ you asked hesitantly. ‘This is gonna work right? I'm not gonna just be stuck like this forever?’

Legend couldn't help but chuckle. Having asked himself that same question thousands of times. ‘Yeah, it’ll work. And if not I’ll think of something else k?’

You nodded, flopping onto the ground beside him. Nose twitching as you close your eyes. Legend followed your lead. Laying down, pressed into your side and for once wishing he could simply stay the way he was.

But surely Twilight would be back soon and the two of you could finally go back to normal. Back on 2 legs with opposable thumbs.

The thought made his bones ache in anticipation. Allowing for a different train of thought to overtake his mind.

‘(Y/N)?’ The words felt heavy in his chest. The last thing he wanted to do was cause you more stress, but the thought of keeping you in the dark felt worse.

‘I…I should probably warn you. Transforming back, it's…it's not pleasant.’

You looked directly at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I won't lie to you. Based on personal experience? It's bad. It's gonna be painful. You're gonna want to fight against it. Dont. That'll just make it worse.”

Your ears flattened by your head. Back leg thumping against the ground. Legend pressed himself further into you, nuzzling his face into yours.

‘Hey it's gonna be okay. I’ll be right there the whole time. Err uhh..if you want that is… Unless you'd prefer Twili-”

“Stay! Please stay…” You nuzzled him back. Giving a small lick near his nose.

Legend's heart nearly burst from his chest. Returning the gesture by nibbling on your ears. “Sure. I'll make sure there's a potion waiting for you when it's over, okay?’

You nodded just as Twilight chose that moment to come into view. The Master Sword across his back. “Sorry guys, Cap and Four were pretty worried bout ya. You'll definitely be gettin questions when we head back which we should quickly. Time seems ready to march down ‘ere himself.” He drew the sword, setting it down on the ground a few inches in front of you.

‘Alright’ Legend said gently ‘You ready?’ you shook your head violently, backing away from the sword. ‘That's okay, take your time.” He nuzzles his face some more, giving a few more soft nips to your ear. ‘Do you want me to go first?’

A small nod and Legend gave a soft lick to the top of your head for reassurance. He approached the sword, placing a paw on its handle. His bones immediately shifted around, growing and rearranging in a twisting mess of blurring pain. He grunted, flexing his fingers around the sword's hilt. He relished at the feeling of his sword and shield still strapped to his back, and the weight of his bag by his hip.

Twilight snatched up the dark shard from where it laid on the ground, placing it back around his neck. “You a’right?” Legend nodded, running a hand through pink stained hair.

Damn, the pink had only faded a few weeks ago from the last time.

He groaned but brushed the thought away. Focusing all his attention on your quivering form.

He reached for you and you darted into his lap. You burrowed into his tunic as his arm secured around you. His other hand rested on your back, scratching ever so lightly. He wanted to scoop you up and carry you away from it all. Save you from the pain that laid before you.

A wet nose grazed his arm cautiously. Wolfie looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes Legend had ever witnessed. He sighed, letting his arm fall just enough for Wolfie to stick his nose closer. A moment later his tongue swiped out, licking her face which she immediately scrubbed at.

Legend rolled his eyes, pushing Wolfie away. “Dins sake Rancher she's gonna drown from slobber.” He and Wild both laughed at that. You perked up at the noise, looking between him and the sword.

Legend placed you beside him in front of the sword. He reached into his bag, pulling out one of his red potions and placing it nearby.

“What's the potion for?” Wild asked, scooting a bit closer.

“Pain. Transformation hurts like hell. Especially the first time and even more so if it was forced.” Legend explained, running a hand over your back.

“Oh shit. Twi makes it look so simple”

“You get used to it after a while. Plus Twilight can control it which doesn't make it as bad.” Wolfie bobbed his head up and down in agreement, moving to sit next to Wild.

“Alright, ready? Deep breath” He nudged the sword closer so your paw touched its blade.

He didn't dare touch you as your body shook violently. Limbs stretching back into their regular size. The sound of crunching bones made his stomach flip as he dug his fingers into the ground. Tears pricked at his eyes when your scream rang out. He leaned over, encouraging you to just let it happen and not fight against the magic.

It might as well have been hours by the time your Hylian form was laid out on the ground beside him. You were curled in on yourself, still shaking as you gasped for breath. Legend grabbed the potion, uncorking it as he shifted closer to your head.

“Take a sip, it'll help.” He brushed your hair away from your face. Hair that was now the same color your fur had been.

Your eyes peeled open, tears streaked down your face as he put the bottle to your lips. You took 2 sips, cringing at its taste before pulling away

“You did great” Legend whispered, running his fingers up and down your spine. Wolfie and Wild rushed forward as well. The ladder asking repeatedly if you needed anything. Wolfie laid down beside you, giving small licks to your face.

You waved the overly sized dog off, muttering about his dog breath. Wiping your face with your sleeve, groaning in pain.

“We should get going before Time sends someone to look for us. Can you walk?”

You struggled to push yourself up but got to your knees. “Y-yeah..”

“Liar.” Legend threw your arm over his shoulders, grabbing your waist as he lifted you to your feet. You winced, trying to take a shaky step forward. He leaned down, ready to simply sweep you up but you pushed against him.

“No..no I can walk I just…I just need a sec.” You tried again, succeeding even though half your weight was on Legend.

The four of you started making your way to the others. Still using Legend as a crutch as you regained your strength and balance.

“Thank you, by the way…” you whispered. “For doing that. You didn't seem particularly fond of that form.”

“And you'd be correct so I better not catch you telling any of the others about it either! Otherwise you'll be joining Wild in that hidden cave.”

You snickered. “Alright fine I guess it's the least I could do.” You leaned your head on his shoulder just for a moment. ‘But seriously Link, thanks.”

Legend's smile turned into a small smirk. “Don't mention it Bun.” Using the stupid nickname Sky gave him on you.

“Oh my goddess that makes so much sense now… but you do know I'm a hare right? Distinctly NOT a bunny?”

Legend shrugged “close enough”. Sending you a small wink that had your cheeks tinted pink.

____

Facing the others was a nightmare.

Everyone was quick to notice the two of you, now with both different hair colors than this morning. Wars looked mortified, grabbing at his own hair in disbelief while Hyrule looked especially concerned.

“Geez (Y/N) I know Wild can be a lot but was it really that stressful?” Some of the others chuckled. Continuing to bombard you with questions

You noticed Wars leaning over to Twilight. Concern written all over his face as he motioned to his hair “Do I need to be worried?”

Twi just gave him a sly wink and Wars looked downright terrified. “Legend I don't know what kind of magic you use but I am NEVER pairing off with you alone again.”

Legend just rolled his eyes, helping you sit down.

Time came up, eyeing the both of you curiously. “Anything you'd like to share?”

“No.” You both said simultaneously.

Time looked to Twilight and Wild. Both who simply shrugged and made themselves scarce. Time didn't press the issue, instead changing the subject to if your two groups had found anything useful, which neither of you had.

“Alright. Let's find a place for a camp.” Time suggested with no protests.

Legend hung to the back of the group. Avoiding the others inevitable teasing of the now returned atrocious hair color. He watched you walk alongside Wind. The young sailor hanging off of you that had you flinching with residual pain that only a select few of them noticed. He forced himself to stay back. You didn't need him anymore. He knew you could take care of yourself and that you would be fine. Everything was back to normal.

Normal.

Just like it had been this morning.

It was as if nothing happened.

As if none of it had happened.

None of the soft touches or comforting gestures that were shared. The game of chase or reassuring words whispered as if secret to everyone else.

It was like nothing happened.

Isn't that what he asked for? To go back to normal?

Why did ‘normal’ now feel so wrong?

Sky joined him at the back of the group. The master sword having been returned to his back.

“So,” he whispered. “You gonna tell me or do I gotta go pry what happened outta the others?”

“Over my dead body Bird Brain.”

“Others it is.” He said without missing a beat. “I'm sure I can get one of them spill.”

“I seriously hate you.” He muttered, taking one more look in your direction. You looked back, catching his gaze. Your smile was warm and over in an instant.

Just maybe, he thought

Not everything had to go back to normal.

[littlenahsstuff]

When will my life begin-pt. 1

Chloe Charming x Red x f!reader

Synopsis- you are Rapunzel’s daughter but don’t know it because Mother Gothel survived and took you too. You possess similar powers to your real mother but they don’t work as well. Red and Chloe are visiting wonderland for the first time since the time travel and Red is nervous. She decides to take Chloe her new girlfriend to a mysterious tower from her childhood and they meet you.

Warnings: not proofread, angst, mentions of abusive parents, anxiety, fluff, slower burn, you just meet so no relationships until at least part two.

Almost 3.5k words

I really hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~

You awoke in your cramped tower, another lonely day. Mother says you can’t leave, you mustn’t. Evil people will hurt you just like your real parents. “You are weak and helpless and they’ll eat you,” is repeated daily.

You have a special gift; you can bring life and healing when singing. Mother loves your tricks but they are somewhat rare and you have a hard time making it actually work. She gets so mad at you, she says harsh punishment is the way to make it work. So far you still screw up.

She barely leaves you alone, the only time you can relax is when she takes her daily naps. Her “Beauty sleep”. Or when she goes on supply runs. You only ever let your thoughts drift then. To that one time you saw a flash of red outside. You were only 13 then and it’s been years but you always did wonder who it was.

***

Red was beyond nervous, Chloe a little too. She had to be strong for her new girlfriend, however. Red was dealing with healing from the trauma still and this visit was making her sick. She knows her mother is better but the whole time travel being dangerous thing has her waiting for the other ball to drop.

“It’ll be alright, promise Heart,” Chloe said it, trying to soothe her. She holds her hand whilst keeping the other on the steering wheel.

When they get there it’s a lot less gloomy than it was originally and the kingdom sits in the midst of a massive ring of roses. Red holds a smeck of comfort that the change brought her home some real peace, but the gnawing feeling never ceases.

“Yeah… I know” Red sighs. “I feel as if-“

“This is just a facade?” Chloe interrupts. “I realize how scary this is; I, myself, worry something went wrong but for now we have to play the part. It’s okay to be scared. You grew up with the most terrifying women I’ve ever seen.

They got to the entrance.

“Well… let’s face this then.” Red decides. She gets out and waits before entering.

Queen Bridget stands ready to greet her daughter, coming in for a bear hug. At least this time both her and Chloe are squished. She still flinched a little but was quickly soothed by a comforting tap on her wrist from Chloe.

“It’s good to see you… Mom,” for the first time.

“It’s so good to see you too my muffin cake!” Reds mom squeals. She starts to see more similarities to Pink haired Bridget by the second and she’s still weary, but relieved.

They pull away and Queen Bridget turns to Chloe.

“Oh where are my manners?! Chloe it is so wonderful to see you here again!” Bridget smiles. Not sickenly to Red’s mild shock.

Chloe glances at her girlfriend and they both smile too and shrug.

“Glad to be back too” Chloe replies with a chuckle. Time travel is weird.

“Now as much as I want to talk your ears off you girls must want to settle in first! I’ll have the Tweedle brothers carry your stuff to your room so you can unpack. Now… I wanna hear about any cute dates later but I understand. I’ll wait dears,” she actually GIGGLES and walks away. Not without giving a little squeeze to Reds shoulder.

They both stand there a little awkwardly and Red exhales, feeling like she can fully breathe again. She feels like she needs to get out when an idea pops into her head.

“Hey wanna go see something cool?” Red says excitedly. Chloe nods and red grabs her hand to drag her back out into the wonder woods they passed through on the way there.

“Where are we going?” Chloe whispers when they hit a particularly thick part of the forest.

“I would go into these woods a couple of times when I was younger… around the third time I came across a massively tall tower. I heard pretty singing. I sadly had to leave but when I came back for the seventh time I heard it again. I never really figured out what or who it was but maybe we’ll see if we go again.

And so they trekked further into the heavily wooded area for a few minutes until finally there was a small clearing with a large tower.

Just by luck did they happen to hear a soft melody coming from it. There was clearly someone home and Red couldn’t not pass up the chance to figure it out once and for all. She used to think about this for years after her last encounter.

“Oh no…” Chloe whispers and whips her head, “I know that look. We are not about to do what I think you’re thinking.” Chow huffs

With a role of her eyes, Red replies hushed, “Fine, just me then. I’m gonna figure it out.” She jumps up on the viney stone and finds it stable. She starts climbing and soon after Chloe groans and follows her.

“Does it have to be this high?” Chloe whimpers, daring not to look down. Red is already far enough up that she doesn’t hear her.

***

You finish sweeping when you hear climbing you don’t think much of it, it’s just your mother. You still tense but remain sweeping. You should’ve finished awhile ago, but you enjoyed the free will of being able to daydream while she was on a trip a little too much. You hear footsteps hit the floor and try and finish up faster.

“I’m sorry mother I’ll be better next time, let me finish first!” You hurry out. When there’s a second pair of feet hitting the ground you focus on the window. Two girls stand there.

You drop the broom and scramble back, falling on your back and hitting the wall.

“I- I- who are you?” You question breathlessly.

Red and Chloe both share another look.

“We aren’t here to hurt you!” Chloe hurried out. Red nods and slowly steps forward.

“No, we just heard the singing and wanted to check it out. Are you up here alone? How do you even get down every day?” She questions and you still cower but decide to answer them.

“I’m not supposed to speak to others. Mother will be furious, I- who are you?” You repeat.

“This is Red and I’m Chloe.” The blue haired one speaks. “I am from Auredon, Cinderellasburg specifically and Red is from here in Wonderland. Do you know why you are in this tower?” It’s almost too much but you answer honestly for fear of angering them.

“My parents were killed when I was a baby and my Mother took me here for my protection. This place is called wonderland?” You question. If you are gonna be killed maybe you can learn some stuff. Although, these ladies seem harmless enough and quite pretty. Nothing like the grotesque monsters your mother warned you of.

“Yes, you don’t know?” Red says, you shake your head. Your curiosity is quickly getting the better of you now.

“Please don’t lie what’s it really like out there?” You softly question.

“Well… there a kingdom just past these woods. my castle, oh by the way I’m the princess” Red casually throws in there making your jaw drop “but it’s very…. Beautiful.” She goes for. “There are roses everywhere now.” She adds.

“Oh… your majesty” you bow. You read a book once with a king in it and you knew you were supposed to bow.

“It’s only majesty for kings and queens, it’s- you know what that doesn’t matter you don’t have to be so formal, I am also a princess as well. Again though you don’t have to be so formal.” Chloe urges. You are completely awestruck by the fact that two very lovely princesses happen to be your first real life interaction besides your mother.

“Well… thank you Chloe and Red. I am still honored to be in your presences. Tell me, are these kingdoms violent at all?” You interrogate farther.

“Not too much honestly, like the occasional violent coup but day to day life can be lovely,” Chloe replies. Red looks to be deep in thought.

“So your mother locked you in here? That’s… that’s crazy” she realizes. Then her face lits up.

“Chloe, a quick word in the corner.” The two huddle leaving you to finally pick yourself up from the floor and dust off.

“Are you thinking what im thinking?” Red asks. Chloe bites her lip.

“Unfortunately. This poor girl needs our help. I can’t help but feel she looks familiar somehow.” Chloe frets. She thinks you are beautiful truly, but she can’t figure out for the life of her who you remind her of.

“Okay well I think we need to convince her to leave-

“I’ll do it.” You say, causing them to jump up from the huddle. “You two are loud by the way and this room is pretty small,” you giggle. It feels good, you don’t know the last time you’ve laughed. They both blush.

“That easy?” Red questions and Chloe slaps her lightly.

“What she means to say is, we understand how terrifying this could be and that we are glad you are allowing us to help you.

“I’ve wanted to leave everyday, my mother isn’t even my real mother and yeah, I’m terrified. You two are living proof it’s okay out there.

“So how does your mother get down?” Red asks.

“The vines”, you shudder at realization you will have to climb down. Chloe seems to have an equal reaction.

“Well let’s go get you somewhere less cagey.” Red smirks.

After a very fear filled climb down your bare feet touched the hard ground. The gravel admittedly hurts your sheltered feet and you wince.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe notices.

“Oh, I guess I’m not used to standing on such rocky ground.” You admit shyly and wince again when you take another step.

Red hums.

“Wait a sec.” She starts taking off her boots and hands them to you.

“thank you! I’m sorry if I’m a little slow with all this.” You relent, still very great full.

“Don’t be.” Red smirks.

Chloe turns to her, “is you giving people shoes a habit now?” She snorts.

Red rolls her eyes. You finish putting the boots on and get a little nervous.

“We better go, mother could be back any second.” You say.

“Alright then, let’s go” Red leads.

The walk is so terrifying every sound muffled from your time up high is so much louder. Each cherp, squeak, and buzz makes you jumpier.

It’s all worth it though when you see the red castle.

It’s the grandest thing you’ve ever seen, lit up (it’s now darker outside) and the roses are so stunning and fragrant you want to cry. And you do.

“Hey,” Red says. They both come closer.

“I’m fine it’s just so pretty.” You sob.

“If you think this is pretty wait till you see my room. It’s so cool” Red says excitedly and leads for you and Chloe to follow again.

Reds castle looks so much brighter than she remembers. It’s so well lit she can actually see the high ceilings now.

“Right this way, I need to check in with my Mom… she’ll know what to do.” Red decides. It feels so weird asking her mom for help.

The lounge room is very ornate and there is satin cushioning and mahogany wood everywhere. Reds mom is setting out some tea and snacks, enough that they are clearly for the girls too.

Red clears her throat, “mom I have someone I need you to meet.” She says. Bridget looks up and immediately drops the teapot.

“Oh my,” she tsks, “very sorry dear I just thought you were someone I knew. You look so much like her. Um who are you? It was now that both Red and Chloe shamefully realized they didn’t ask for your name. They were so focused on getting you out they didn’t even find out who you were.

“Y/n your majesty.” You curtsy. The queen inhales sharply.

“You don’t have to be so formal but uh… You wouldn’t happen to have hair that glows when you sing would you?” she questions. You are immediately scrambling to figure out how she possibly knew that.

“That’d be a coincidence, we found her in a tower. She’s like repunzel!” Chloe adds and then immediately gasps. Chloe feels so stupid for not putting two and two together. Meanwhile both you and Red are clueless of what’s happening.

You squeamishly give a “yes”.

“Oh you look just like her.” Chloe realizes.

You want to curl up in a ball. This is already so overwhelming.

“Like whom?” Red nods her head in confusion.

“Well, there was a princess named Rapunzel locked in a tower by an old hag, she would use the girls powers to rejuvenate herself. She originally pretended to be her mother. Her now husband Eugene found her and allowed her to see floating lanterns that appeared on her birthday. Turns out the whole kingdom was setting them off for her. They thought mother Gothel turned to dust but she reappeared and in turn stole her baby. They had no idea where she went and searched the lands. She wasn’t ever found…. Until maybe now?” The queen finished the tale, hope growing on her face by the second. Both you and Red were utterly gobsmacked.

They all turned to you only for you to get extremely lightheaded from the attention and the fact that other than the lanterns, the story completely paralleled yours. You didn’t even know when your birthday was. Your thoughts wage a war and you feel as if your legs are giving out.

Before you hit the floor Chloe catches you.

“Oh rabbits,” The queen exclaims. “You girls be a dear and make sure are guest is alright. I believe I really do have to make a phone call now.” She turns to you, who is still conscious but out of it. “Sweets, I promise you are safe now. This castle is heavily guarded. No one gets in that wasn’t supposed to and while you are technically free to leave at any moment I believe you understand you have to stay for a little bit longer.” She hums and turns shaking her head in disbelief as she heads to the phone in her room.

“I-I” you stutter. The two others give a concerned look.

“Hey it’s gonna be fine, even if you aren’t the lost princess we can keep you save. We promise,” Chloe soothes, Red is now hunched down to your levels.

“Promise” she agrees with a curt nod. You take a deep breath, it comes in more broken but it helps ever so slightly.

“Thank you, thank you both!” You exclaim, wrapping them in some sort of embrace, you don’t know what it’s called though.

“Ha no problem maybe-princess,” Red jokes. She earns a glare from Chloe.

“So if I my parents are alive, am I gonna meet them?” You question in disbelief. This feels like a scary dream.

Red bites her lip before replying, “Well I’m assuming that’s what the call was for, she is most likely calling them now.” You are more confused.

“How will they hear her voice from all the way from the castle?”

“There are these machines that let you call from any land so long as the other has one too” Chloe responds, sharing yet ANOTHER look with Red.

“Sheesh, you need to get out more” Red tries to lighten the situation and to be fair it makes you laugh a little.

“RED” Chloe scolds.

“She laughed!”

“It’s okay, I’d rather joke about it than have it still happen” you add but now they both look sad for you again.

“Do you think they still want me? Like what if they have other children and don’t need me as a child anymore. And I’m not really a child at all, I don’t know how old I am yet but I seem far too big to be one.” You start picking at your nails in worry.

Red sighs, “I know what it’s like to have to worry whether someone likes you or not. Trust everything will work out.” She says.

“From what I heard they never stopped looking for you. They did have another child but they actually did kinda do the lantern thing every year. It’s just that they didn’t understand you were sent to wonderland. The whole time they’ve been looking elsewhere but I know for a fact they never fully stopped and that shows they will want you.” Ella offers. You just nod softly, the fear was still there, but if it’s true then it makes you feel a little better. They were good at that. You think you’d want to be their friends. Best friends even someday if you still manage to hang out.

Before the awkward tension breaks naturally the Red queen burst through the door with two others. They also look like royalty to you but that’s not what makes your chest pound. They woman looks so painstakingly like you it makes Chloe curse herself for not getting it immediately. You all stand up, Red and Chloe help you first. And you all how your head.

The woman nearly runs to you and pulls you into another embrace of sorts. This time it’s a little tighter.

“Oh my, you’re really her aren’t you, you’re my baby girl!” She gasps. You blush and stand there terribly awkward. Red can feel your uneasiness from next to you so she coughs in attempt to break Queen Rapunzel from her stupor. It works.

“I- you’re my real mom?” You question.

She pulls apart just enough to put one hand on your cheek and another on your shoulder.

“I know for sure, yes. You are everything I dreamed you to be, my beautiful baby girl. Oh you must have so many questions.” She says. She smiles like the sun and has tears pooling in her eyes. She’s dress so elegantly in purple, but she’s shaking quite a bit.

“I’m here, you’re here” you say. Rapunzel turns to the man.

“Eugene Flynn Fitzgerald Ryder, come over here this instance,” she beckons and slowly a man steps forward. You notice you have his eyes and hair color. You’ve never had a dad before, it’s almost too much. He certainly doesn’t seem like he’s an evil man.

“That’s really her my little buttercup?” He says and when he gets a good look at your face he breaks into the loudest sobs you have ever heard in your life. You honestly don’t know what to do but stand there. You are also overcome with emotion but this is quickly becoming too much for you. He steps forward again.

“Bathroom!” You exclaim and haste fully walk past them and into the halls where you start running.

“Y/n-“

“Flynn give her some time,” Rapunzel sighs.

“We‘ll make sure she’s safe,” Chloe interrupted, grabbing Red to follow you.

After a couple turns they hear sobbing down an otherwise empty hallway. You sit there with your head tucked into your knees gasping for breath. They slowly walk up to you.

“It’s a lot, I know” Red sighs. “Meeting your mo- family for the first time. You start thinking of what can go wrong when you don’t know them and they don’t really know the real you. It’s hard.” She pauses, “but take it slow. I promise that they are also overwhelmed too. But after not getting any affection your whole life it seems like even the tiniest bit is too much.”

“If you want, we will stay with you as much as allowed. I know we just met but it seems like maybe you trust us the most and that’s precious, the trust,” Chloe states. Her eyes are truthful and earnest. Red shares that earnesty.

“I- supposed if it’s alright. I would never want to impose and you’ve done so much for me. This is all just- well you said it” you gesture to Red.

“We’ll be here.” They both say in unison and it makes all three of you giggle. Maybe your new life won’t be so bad. At least not if they’re in it. Your worry is replaced with a similar fluttery feeling but you don’t know exactly what it is.

This is your happy beginning. Your life has finally begun.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

his favorite girl, part iii

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: tensions rise as your second lesson continues, but joel still refuses to admit his feelings to you—or himself. you'd concede defeat if you really believed he didn't want you. or if his actions weren't constantly contradicting his words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, guitar teacher au, age gap (30 years), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, smut, angst, f!masturbation, mild exhibitionism, mentions of guilt & shame

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist | part i | part ii

You have no idea how you're supposed to survive another afternoon with Joel, let alone an entire semester. He's basically Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, hiding under the visage of an unfairly sexy, middle-aged musician, but you never know which one you’re dealing with until he pushes you away or calls you his girl.

Today, he feels like a dangerous combination of both.

After your verbal agreement to keep things professional, yet again, he concedes and finally sits next to you on the couch. Guess that safe distance he was so desperate to maintain is null and void now that he’s made his feelings clear—sort of.

You assume his proximity is an olive branch, but it sure doesn't feel like one. Now, he's close enough to smell his cologne, an earthy, woodsy scent that's so Joel, it makes your head spin. It's also making this lesson infinitely harder to focus on.

You’d never even considered the possibility of him shutting you down this hard, but then again, a hot fling with an older guy wasn’t why you showed up on his doorstep in the first place. If he'd just admit he's interested, maybe things could be different, but he won’t, will he? So, what other option do you have?

You’re not going to throw yourself at him like some pathetic schoolgirl with a crush, even if that’s exactly what you are. You want him to want to touch you, to crave you the way you're sure he does, but right now he wants to teach you chords. Starting with C, apparently.

“We’re gonna try this chord again, alright? Same as last time, nice and slow,” he starts, reaching back to pull something out of his pocket. He presents you with a small, black piece of plastic that looks like a clamp, identical to the one on his guitar. "This here's called a capo. Go ahead and fit it right over the third fret—it’ll raise the key of the guitar. M’thinkin' that'll make things a little easier for ya."

You push your feelings to the side and accept it, following his lead and squeezing it into place before glancing up for his approval. He gives you an encouraging smile and nods, and your heart rate kicks up wildly in your chest.

God, why does his praise feel so good? And why does it feel like it’s been so long since anyone was this patient with you, or genuinely wanted to see you succeed? You realize you want him to keep looking at you like that, regardless of the nature of your relationship.

"S'perfect. Now, your fingers'll go here, here, and here," he arranges his fingers one by one on the three strings that make up the chord and strums. He lets it ring out for a moment, then looks up at you expectantly. "Any of this ringin' a bell from yesterday?"

Vaguely. Mainly, you're remembering how tempting his fingers looked while he was playing, but you'll have to do better than that today. Instead, you focus on mirroring what he showed you.

"Like this?" you ask hesitantly, pressing down on the strings and mimicking his motions. Tough nylon bites into your skin just as painfully as last time, but the sound you produce is pretty. Nothing like the muted, garbled mess from your previous attempt.

You meet his eyes, and they're filled with none of the surprise yours contain. He just looks pleased, like he had total confidence in you even if you didn't.

"Exactly like that. See? You're doin' better already. Must'a done your finger exercises last night like I told ya,” he says proudly, none the wiser.

If only he knew that’s exactly what you spent your night doing. Practically the entire night, if you’re being honest, and to no avail. It might’ve unintentionally improved your dexterity, but you're still stuck on everything that did or didn't happen yesterday. The only lasting result is how unexpectedly conflicted it made you feel. You nod, biting your lip to keep from grimacing.

“Sure did,” you play it off with a laugh. "I wanted to be as prepared as possible."

Prepared for something a little more physical than playing guitar, but that's a moot point now, isn't it?

You sound as fake as you feel, but luckily he’s so eager to continue the lesson, he doesn’t notice. Again, you follow his lead and try your best to ignore your disappointment and bury the residual hurt. You have a sneaking suspicion you're going to be doing a lot of that, but inexplicably, it's getting easier.

You're starting to realize it's not in spite of Joel. It's because of him. In a brief moment of self-indulgence, you let your gaze linger on his rosy cheeks and the newfound serenity in his eyes.

His enthusiasm is infectious, and his love for music radiates like a Texas heatwave, burning hotter with every chord he strums and string he picks. Even his posture is loosening, and the soft smile on his face seems like a permanent fixture.

It's that same warmth from earlier. That intimate connection you felt blooming in your chest from sharing in his joy. Cautiously, you allow yourself to hope, if not for you and Joel, then for your degree. For the goals you have yet to achieve that, regardless of the past 24 hours, still mean everything to you.

"So, what's next?" you ask eagerly.

His eyes light up, and you know you've asked the right question. He shifts across the strings to a new chord, his smile widening as you quickly move to match him.

"Next, we're learnin' F," he grins, nodding toward your finger placement. "Then, I figure we can run through some pickin' patterns if you're up for it.”

"I'm up for anything you are, teach," you reply earnestly, and the smile you give him feels genuine this time. You really do mean it in every sense. "But be gentle with me. It's been a while, if that wasn't obvious."

His smile falters, and something unreadable flashes in his eyes. After a moment, you realize what you said and how it must’ve sounded. You open your mouth to clarify, but before you get the chance, his expression clears. He chuckles, and it's a light, tinkling thing that fills your chest with a heady combination of relief and longing.

Of course, he’d take it in stride. You’re struck again by the resemblance to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, left wondering if you're still imagining things. The subtle twitch of his fingers must be a figment of your imagination, too, or at least that's what you tell yourself. It doesn't matter now, anyway.

"'Course, I will,” he drawls companionably, his words commanding your attention, compelling you to hang on to each one like a lifeline. “Like I said, we'll take it nice and slow. Ease you back into things until you're ready for somethin' harder.”

It takes everything you have not to choke on your spit. Ignore it. Ignore it. Focus on the lesson and how incredible it’s going to feel when you finally finish the song and pass your damn class.

But you can’t. He’s too close, and he smells so good. You’re only human.

"I think I'll surprise you," you retort cheekily. You’re so fucked. "Plus, I like it hard. Just need a little build-up to get me there."

His hand tenses in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it movement, and you can't help the overwhelming feeling of pride pooling in your belly. You've never backed down from a challenge and you're not about to start now. This one is apparently still ongoing.

"Well, all right, then," he says smoothly, and this time when you shiver, he looks pleased. "Let's hear ya strum it, and then we'll work through the rest. Think you can handle that?"

You straighten up, sitting confidently with your fingers poised over the frets, ready to play. As you shift in your seat, your thigh presses firmly into his and sends a rush of heat straight to the pit of your stomach. "Yeah, I can take it.”

He shakes his head with an amused, yet undoubtedly shy smile. You bite your lip coyly, nodding at the sheet music you've just noticed on the rug at his feet.

"Are there more chords in this bar or is it just picking until the next line?"

It's a toss-up whether or not he heard any of what you just asked if his rapt attention on your lips is any indication. You're still teasing your bottom lip with your teeth, and it's not until you laugh that he finally snaps out of it. He shakes his head a little harder as if to shoo away the distraction, before reaching down to inspect the piece of paper.

He concentrates a little too hard on the page, looking but not seeing, so you reach over and point at a confusing string of notes that connect and repeat with seemingly no rhyme or reason. His gaze shifts to your daintily extended index finger, and you're hit with an intense feeling of deja vu, except this time, your roles are reversed.

“Can you show me how that part goes? It looks like gibberish to me, to be totally honest,” you prod him, trying to reel him back in.

As if on autopilot, he quickly discards the sheet and shifts his hands into place, ready to teach like he wasn't just daydreaming about your fingers wrapped around his cock, covered in his release. And if he wasn't, then you sure were.

“Y-yeah, sure thing. That line's just the intro, but the flow is somethin' else. Probably one of my all-time favorites," he says, his endearing mask carefully slotted back into place.

But you're onto him now. Begrudgingly, he tears his eyes away from where you're matching him on your guitar, waiting patiently for his next instructions.

"It really ain't as bad as it looks," he continues. "The timing's purposely a little off, but it's adaptable. This one's real easy to add your own spin to if that's somethin' ya wanna try."

With all of the skill and grace of a practiced musician, he plucks through the line to give you a preview of what was previously only lines and circles on a page. The notes blend seamlessly, a mixture of picking and what you vaguely remember to be hammering, and it evokes something you never expected.

An unidentified emotion takes root and feels startlingly like yearning and hope, carried by the short melody. It's beautiful. He circles back to the beginning, hopping along the frets slowly just for you, and he's beautiful. You watch him, enamored by his fluidity and ease of motion.

For him, all of this is innate. His guitar is a natural extension of himself, something he was born to hold. You used to think you were born for it, too. The reminder is a painful one, but thankfully you're not left to dwell on it for long.

"So, how 'bout it? Ready to give it a try?" Joel's voice cuts through the fog, as honeyed and mellow as the music at his fingertips. You want to hear that voice call you beautiful again and feel him panting against the shell of your ear while he stretches you out around his thick fingers. God, you want.

Yet, your hands move of their own accord and fall into place—it's the C chord. Apparently, you really want that, too.

"Ready, teach," you nod, and you know you must look like a lovesick fool.

Right now, you really don't care because your gorgeous guitar teacher is beaming and excited, and beneath it all, there's still a tinge of something that makes you believe all of this is real. A lust for more simmering just below the surface.

"You have my full attention, promise."

——

The next hour is spent walking through various strumming and picking patterns, and acquainting yourself with the fluctuating tempo. It's tricky, but you're committed. Again and again, you repeat the same bars, following Joel's interjected advice and corrections, and your mistakes become less obvious until they're all but gone completely.

Rewarding doesn't even begin to cover how a successful run feels. Even the pain blooming beneath the reddening indents on your fingertips feels good. Calluses are beginning to roughen the soft skin, but you earned them.

They're yours and yours alone, proof that you worked your ass off and achieved something remarkable. The results speak for themselves, bouncing around the walls of Joel's living room and breathing new life into the space. Your contribution to his little corner of the world.

And Joel looks so damn proud. He stays patient through every flubbed hammer and too-hard pluck, grinning when you complete the section without his guidance. Your lesson's already gone on long past its scheduled time, but neither of you seems to notice. You likely wouldn't bother to mention it even if you did.

Time trickles by like the slow drip of molasses, thick with the sweetest tension, yet the longer you play, the more a familiar ache starts to creep in and make your progression a little more difficult.

Your hand is cramping, and it hurts. You pause mid-strum to shake it out and stretch your fingers, sighing at the brief respite.

"Hurtin' again, huh?"

You huff out a laugh, remembering the last time he asked you that question. The throbbing in your joints would more than welcome another massage from Joel, but you don't exactly trust yourself to come back from that. You have to stay focused until the next line of the song, at the very least.

"It's really not that bad. Guess all those finger exercises are paying off," you joke, but you don't expect him to catch the underlying punchline. "I kinda figured it wouldn't go away overnight, anyway."

You can tell he's thinking about it, too. He nods understandingly, tapping a restless, arrhythmic beat against his guitar.

"S'all part of bein' a guitar player, unfortunately," he agrees, his entire body tense like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and inspect the subtle changes to your delicate skin for himself.

Your mind starts to wander as his tapping changes to slow circles swirled into the wood grain. You can't help but wonder if your new calluses would feel good sliding up and down his cock, if he'd like the coarse hint of pain teasing the ridge or circling the tip. You wonder what his own would feel like pressing into your clit. The skin of his middle and ring fingertips is noticeably rougher than the rest and with a little pressure—fuck.

You're wet. That can't happen. You have to concentrate. But his movements are starting to speed up, and you can almost feel them sliding through your messy heat.

The intrusive thought is thankfully interrupted when he stops the lewd motion and continues his reassurances like it never happened. Why does he keep doing that? It seems so pointless to keep pretending you’re not on the same page, but you’re not about to call him out and scare him off again.

You tell yourself to focus on the pain. Focus on what he’s saying, not what he’s insinuating.

"Pain's a good thing. It means you're stickin' it out and makin' some real progress," he says fondly, and it's almost enough to reclaim your attention. "Says a lot about the kind of person you are, too, what you do with that pain and how you let it shape ya. You're a good one, I can tell. Committed, like I was."

It's so much sweeter than anything you'd expected him to say. It helps.

"Fair enough. Still kinda sucks though," you grumble, but the slight quirk of your lips betrays your tone.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened to likin' it hard?" he asks playfully, and you feel that telltale whoosh between your legs.

You shift uncomfortably, subtly trying to unstick your underwear from where it's cemented to your core, but the unexpected friction makes you flinch. He picks up on it immediately.

"Look, why don't we take a break? I'll grab us some drinks while you rest up, and we can dive back in whenever you're ready," he offers, his voice raspier than before.

"Yeah, that, um...that sounds good. I'm actually gonna run to the bathroom real quick if that's cool," you reply, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

It's hot as hell all of a sudden, even though the AC hasn't stopped kicking since you got here, and you have a feeling cold drinks won't be enough to cool you down. He hesitates before nodding, then points down the hall.

"'Course. S'the first door on your left," he says, brows furrowing in concern. You all but speed walk past him to your temporary haven.

Backing into the door the moment it closes behind you, you squeeze your legs together as tightly as you can, but it only makes it worse. The ache is almost unbearable, and you know for a fact that you'll waste the rest of the lesson if you try to go back out there like this.

The entire afternoon has been such a complicated back-and-forth of conflicting feelings and confusion, but you still have no idea what do to about it. You want him to fuck you, but you also want him to teach you. He wants to teach you, but he also wants you in ways he won't admit to you. Or himself.

Your head is cloudier than it's been all day, and your thoughts are a jumbled mess of desire and rationality, both fighting for dominance. So, now what?

There was only one way to clear the fog last night, but you really shouldn't. You're in his bathroom for christ's sake, and he can't be more than 15 feet away, pouring you a glass of lemonade in the kitchen.

You do it, anyway. With one hand shoved down your pants and the other slapped over your mouth, you decide your best course of action is to rub one out in Joel's bathroom to rid yourself of this distraction once and for all. And it feels good.

The moment your sore fingertips press into your clit, your hips buck into your touch and you lose yourself to the friction. You're even wetter than you realized, and your fingers keep slipping from where you need them most, so you change tactics, ramming two of them inside you instead.

So much for resting your hand. Your motions are frantic, bordering on desperate, and you can't bring yourself to stop now that you've started. Wet squelching mingles with your muffled moans and fills the room, noisier than you’ve been all day even after an afternoon of playing guitar.

But you're getting a little too loud. The door rattles on its hinges every time your palm slaps into your heat, and your hand isn't nearly enough to mask your increasing volume the closer you get. Maybe you'll get lucky and he won't hear a thing. Or maybe you'll get really lucky and he'll hear everything.

You're too far gone to care. Just a little more. You can feel yourself starting to squeeze your fingers, and you just need a little bit more—

Then, there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice tentatively filters through.

"Everythin' alright in there?" he asks kindly, but he sounds wrecked.

It's obvious he heard everything, and yet he's still trying to be polite, desperately clinging to his morals and good, Southern manners. Too bad that turns you on.

Not bothering to respond, you keep going, fixated on how vivid a picture your unstifled moans and reckless actions must be painting. You wouldn't be surprised if it's just your imagination again, but you swear you can hear labored breathing and a litany of muttered curses coming from the other side.

He knocks on the door again, harder this time, and you quickly realize that any patience Joel had left is gone. You've finally pushed him past his limit.

"M'givin' you sixty seconds to get back in that livin' room," he grits out roughly. "You're finishin' out here."

The door shakes as he pushes off of it and stomps away, leaving you in palpable silence.

thanks for reading & stay tuned for part iv!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[steddieas-shegoes]

terrible twos

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'christmas'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated m | 702 words | cw: referenced sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, christmas cookies, the awful stage of toddlerhood that parents barely survive

2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣

“Daddy! Up!” Sawyer is making grabby hands at Eddie, and Eddie can’t do anything but give in. His hands may be busy rolling cookie dough, but there’s nothing that would stop him from holding his son.

The terrible twos hit early and they hit hard.

Steve insists Rory never had it quite like this, but at barely a year and a half old, Sawyer is always one ‘no’ away from a meltdown. He’s been very independent, and with that independence, he hasn’t wanted to be held unless he’s hurt.

If he’s asking to come up now, Eddie’s gonna do it.

“Cookie?” He asks and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not yet, little dude. It’s still gotta bake in the oven.”

Sawyer’s lip pouts out. “Peas?”

He hears Steve and Rory in the next room, probably playing NHL since that was the gift she wanted most this year. He won’t interrupt them, but Sawyer might if he starts screaming about not having a cookie.

“You can have the first one when it’s done cooking,” Eddie tries to appease him.

Not that he gives in at tantrums. Quite the opposite.

It’s just that it’s Christmas and Sawyer isn’t old enough to understand that he can’t eat raw cookie dough, so this tantrum would be kind of understandable.

“Daddy peas,” Sawyer says again, reaching for the dough on the counter. “Cookie mine?”

“You can pick which one you want when I cut them and you can have it as soon as it’s out of the oven,” Eddie allows. He hopes that’s enough,

“Cookie mine now?”

“Not now. In a tiny bit,” Eddie tries to distract him with the cookie cutters. “Pick a shape. We have Christmas trees…and candy canes…”

“Cookie!”

Eddie laughs, tries to keep his composure at what is surely escalating into a code red situation.

“It’ll be a cookie in any shape, silly goose. What about a nutcracker?” Eddie holds up the shape, but realizes it’s too late.

He’s lost.

“Down! Dada!” Sawyer is kicking his legs to get down and Eddie lets him. But he isn’t going to let him interrupt Steve’s time with Rory, not over this.

“How about a different treat?” Eddie tries, offering the first thing he sees: a piece of chocolate from someone’s stocking. “It’s got caramel!”

Sawyer pauses, thinks about it, shakes his head. His little curls bounce around almost comically as his face starts to get red.

“How about a candy cane?” Eddie offers instead, desperate.

“You wanna push buttons to shoot the puck?” Rory asks from the doorway, Steve right behind her with a knowing look.

“Shoot da puck? Sawyer shoot?” Sawyer asks, distracted enough that Eddie can breathe out.

God, having a toddler with the same temperament he had as a kid is hard. He feels like sending Wayne a fruit basket, maybe a blank check with his signature on it.

“Up!” He runs to Rory, who scoops him up and carries him to the living room, letting him babble mostly nonsensical things the entire way.

Eddie flops to the floor and looks up at Steve.

“How much longer until he’s a reasonable human?”

Steve snorts. “Could be days. Could be years.”

Steve joins him on the floor, reaching out to lace their fingers together. The sound of Sawyer cheering for Rory fills the house and Eddie smiles to himself.

“Did he at least pick a shape for his cookie?” Steve asks.

“Nope. And I don’t even think I have the energy to make them anymore.”

“You want some help?” Steve offers.

Eddie turns his head and watches Steve smirking up at the ceiling.

“Are you gonna make dick shapes when I’m not looking?”

“I’d never.”

Eddie squints his eyes at Steve. “You did last year. I had to shove it in my mouth so no one would see.”

“Don’t act like you’re not used to shoving a dick in your mouth,” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Alright. Watch yourself. We’ve still got hours before anyone’s dick is in anyone’s mouth. And at least four dozen cookies to bake. And a toddler to control.”

Steve kisses him quickly, just a peck. A promise for later.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Steve says.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[adventurouslesly]

Clashing together

Logan Howlett x fem reader

Warning: little bit of violence,smut,and nightmares

Word count:4K

Summary: you found Logan after being the first experiment for adamantium and escaping and Logan challenged you to see what you are made of

This is also my first time writing a Logan fic so I hope I do him some justice!!! Also this is my first detailed smut so hopefully it’s good.

You’re a new mutant same as Wolverine Stryker kept you hidden after he used you as guinea pig to see if the adamantium would work on Logan but once Logan got the adamantium he was lucky ran away from the shit hole instead of claws coming between your knuckles it’s your nails.

One day you were able to escape and after years of being alone Charles Xavier found you and brought you back to the x mansion he gave you a tour around and you see all the different mutant who are mostly kids and teens even though you may seem young you are much older then everyone.

You meet with the older people Storm,Scott,and Jean at the moment Logan wasn’t present he was doing something so you thought maybe later you’ll see him.

It was night you settled in your room and looked around it had en-suite bathroom which is pretty nice,a desk by the room, queen bed, and a window that looks out the beautiful garden.

You decide to go to the kitchen which was dark but you didn’t seem to mind you look out the window not noticing the man in the corner who’s sitting down drinking whiskey.

The man looks at you. “Who the hell are you?” He said harshly you turn your head from the slight jumpscare from his voice. “I would ask the same thing.” you cross your arms.

The man raised his eyebrows as if he’s shock at your response and gets up. “Funny everyone knows who I am but I’m Logan known as Wolverine too I’m gonna ask who you are again?” he starts circling around you looking at you up and down.

You gave him a surpise look. “Oh so you’re the Wolverine I just didn’t know what you looked like but I’m y/n.” Logan smirks “The one and only wolverine you’re looking at kid.” This was the perfect moment to tell him he’s not the only one.

Logan still circling. “So y/n what kind of power do you have? Hopefully it’s interesting.”Logan questioned you “I’m exactly like you but my claws comes out of my nails” you said.

Logan stops in his track his back in front of you and turns his head to look at you. “Your nails?” As he try to process the information you gave him. “You got adamantium claws like me?” He turns around to face you. “Let me see.” Logan said.

You put your hands in front of him and your nails grew. “I do got adamantium like you.” his eyes widen as he sees your claws extended. “Stryker kept me hidden cause he wanted to test me first for when they experimented on you which obviously worked and you escaped.” you explained and retract your claws.

Logan nods and think for awhile his fist clenched. “Was there more like us?” As he intensely stare at you. “There was after it was successful to me and they tested it on more people to make sure but we all planned to escape weeks after you did but I was the only one who lived and I was hiding for while till Charles found me somehow.” you said coldly Logans jaw clenched.

His face is filled with anger. “the others didn’t survive.” he repeats. “This is what we gonna do we’re gonna stick together In case Stryker comes after us and have each other back.” said Logan.

You extend your hand. “we’re a team then.” Logan extend his hands out too “We’re a team.” then shakes your hand and lets go. “Anyone who messes with us they dont know who they’re messing with it’ll be too late when they realized they fucked up!” you nod in agreement in Logan’s rant.

Then you guys stand there in silence for a bit since obviously the wolverine isn’t much a big talker and there’s you who kinda the same but you’re a quiet person. “So uh have you got a tour around the place?” Logan said “Professor showed me a little bit till he introduced me to jean,scott, and storm they ended showing me more of the place.” you explained.

Logan nods. “Right…well I think you should head to bed since I bet with you being new and all they will get you to training.” Logan said he’s probably right they’re probably gonna see what you’re capable of with your claws. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow." you said as you walk away.

Logan follows you. “I can actually lead you to your room it’s no problem.” Logan said you guys walk in silence there was a few kids up and Logan warns them they should be asleep to wake up for school tomorrow.

As you get your room you turn to look at Logan. “Goodnight Logan.” you smile. “Night bub.” then he walks away you open your room and close it and lay in yout bed wondering what’s the next day will be like.

The next morning Logan goes to professor office but he was talking to a student he waits patiently and looks out the window and see you exploring the garden he wanted to know more about you but wants to keep a safe distance between you guys.

As professor finish his conversation with the student and they leave he looks at Logan. “I seen you met y/n already." Logan turns to look at professor. “Why wasn’t I informed about them?” Logan questioned.

Professor sighed. “You weren’t here when she arrived you were on the small mission I sent you.” professor said logan crossed his arm. “You could’ve told me when I got back and checked in.” Logan said.

Professor smiled. “Cause I knew eventually you guys would’ve bumped into each other.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Of course." Logan mumbled and looks out the window and see you gone.

Professor noticed how Logan looks out the window. “I sent storm and jean to train her you could join.” Logan chuckles. “You think I would go easy on the kid just cause we have the same mutant power?” Professor laughed a little too. “I would be foolish to think you would."

Logan then change the conversation if he needs to do anything around the mansion once the Professor told him he has nothing yet Logan leaves Professor office.

As logan walks around the hall he decides to go to the training room once he got there he leans against the doorframe with arm crossed watching you with storm and jean giving you physical task with your claws and without them.

After a while Logan leaves you noticed he left even though you were busy training and didn’t make eye contact with Logan you smelt he was there since he’s the only person who smelt like cigar,cinnamon probably from his whiskey,and wood there is a forest area in the yard so assuming he probably goes there to relax then you wonder if he remembers you guys got the same sense too if he was trying to sneakily watch you.

Couple weeks later you were still in mansion you and Logan barely talk besides “Morning.” “Night.” ,small talk, and a grunt sound as he head nods when you see each others in the hall it doesnt surprise you since you herd he doesnt let people in much of his life.

It was around the afternoon that storm and jean was supposed to train you but they had an emergency mission and Scott was with the professor which lead to Logan this should be interesting…

You walk to Logans room and knock on his door after a minute of you standing there you press your ear on the door. “Logan?” You hear nothing then you decide maybe he’s in the kitchen so you walk over there.

Logan was drinking whiskey alone in his thought till you walked in he nods at you as he drinks. “I need you to train me.” you said right away Logan sets the whiskey down he scoffs. “Where’s Storm and Jean why aren’t they helping you?” Logan said clearly not wanting to help.

You knew it was bad idea to ask but you wanted to continue your training schedule. “They went to a mission.” you said. “What about laser boy?” Logan gruffly questioned and picks up his drink. “He’s with professor and the kids.” you said Logan settle down his drink.

Logan studies you. “Alright let’s do this kid.” he finally said you were shocked you thought you needed to argue with him some more to agree! “Ok well go easy on me since you’re more stronger then me.” you say.

Logan grins and starts to circle around you. “Where would the fun be if I took it easy on you I want to see what you got.” he then lunges forward swiping at you with his claw you luckily dodge them well then it looks like you’re doing your training in the kitchen.

Logan grins some more. “Thats what im talking about!” you then swipe at Logans arm but he manages to block your claws with his claws making a clashing sound like if you guys are fighting with swords then he headbutts you.

You stumble back. “I thought you were fast.” Logan teases you,you rub your temple. “Oh it’s on!” you said Logan smirks with amusement. “Come on show me what you got y/n!” Logan challenges you.

You then run up to Logan managing to tackling and pinning him down,Logan looks at you with widen eyes. “I’m surpise you took me down not many can do that.” Logan chuckles you shrug. “Maybe im just lucky.” as you’re still on top of him.

Logan grins mischievously. “Lucky huh? We should test that theory out more let’s go another round.” Logan challenges you again. “I would definitely be down.” you challenge back.

You get off of Logan and gets up and gets to the other side of the kitchen while Logan doing the same both waiting to see who makes the first move with claws out you decide to go first and try to swipe at his legs.

But Logan was faster he jumps up from your swipe and landing on his feet. “You got to do better than that!” He then swipes on your side and you wince from his attack even though you got quick healing it still hurts.

Logan nods. “Forgot you got that too might have to try harder.” he lunges forward you tried to block but you managed a little but he still rip part of your shirt with his claws man no wonder he doesnt train anyone he’s ruthless!

Logan was staring at part of y/n skin where the shirt was ripped showing the color of her bra he wasn’t sure if the whiskey was making him feel like this or the fight is intense with you two just as he was distracted you claw his face.

Logan thoughts suddenly abruptly stops when he felt the sting on his face. “I see how it is no mercy.” Logan runs up to her but she manage to be quick and kick him making him crash on the ground you smirk.

Logan grunts as he crashes on the floor hitting his head on the counter and sits up rubbing his head. “Good thing I can heal quick since that headache was no joke when I hit my head on that counter well played.” Logan says with a look of admiration which is rare.

As Logan gets up he looks at you. “Rematch?” You nod your head while catching your breath. “I think that’s enough.” Logan looks at you disappointed. “Aw come on I was getting warmed up!”

You think about it you really don’t have anything to do so might as well take up his offer. “Fine I’ll do it” Logan grins. “Let’s go then” before you can process anything he suddenly lunges at you his arms wrapped around your waist as he lifts you off the ground. “What you gonna do now?!” Logan challenges you.

You jab your elbow against his stomach hard Logan grunts in pain you were able to squirm away from his grip being loose and you go back to your fighting stance. “You fight dirty.” as Logan clutches his stomach.

You chuckles. “I see why you want to keep going it’s fun.” you smirk Logan looks at you dangerously. “You’re having fun now? Let’s see how you handle this!” He charges at you clawing your leg. “Fuck!” You yelled.

As Logan sees you winced from the pain he took the perfect opportunity to grab your arm and throw you on the ground and is on top of you pinning you down and you try to flip him.

Even though you got super strength too he’s more heavier. ”You’re not wiggling out of this one.” Logan smirks knew what he’s doing then he stabs you leg and you snarl and digs your nails on his muscles.

Logan winces as your nails digs in and takes his claws out of you and he looks down at you his pupils dilated. “Oh you really done it” he presses his body against you he suddenly leans down burring his face in your neck licking your neck.

You try to squirm from denying the lustful feeling you were getting since you met the man not even for 3 months! “You do this with every women you train with? get a couple jab in and sleep with them?”

Logan chuckles against your neck he knows what you’re trying to do trying to deny the feeling between you and him. “I never do this to anyone well besides storm but it’s been two years since me and her slept with each other after a middle of training but I’m not focus on her only on you like how wet you are I can smell it.” Logan says bluntly.

You freeze process the things he said about him and storm and made a mental note to ask about that later but also forgot he has keen sense like you of course he can smell the arousal on you. “Admit you like it cause your body says otherwise you can’t deny it darling.” he then continues to giving your neck attention and sliding his hand on your hip.

Logan then grinds his body against you and your breath hitches. “You know this is one hell of foreplay we’re doing.” you can feel the body heat from each other Logan grins. “It sure is what can I say it’s intoxicating the way we clash and the adrenaline.” playfully bites your neck.

You feel his hands going underneath your shirt roaming around feeling his fingertip brushing by your bra. “wait Logan.” you said hesitantly Logan pulls back looking at you. “Let’s not do anything here in the kitchen floor just in case someone walks in we can do it in your room.”

Luckily Logan didn’t argued he picked you up easily in his arms and took you to his room settling you down on the bed and locks the door goes back to kissing you. “This needs to go.” Logan mumbles as he pulls off your shirt off and unhooks your bra leaving your bare on top.

Logan licks his lip at the sight and starts kissing you and making his way down to your nipples sucking and swirling around it and pressing his body against yours. “Tell me baby you want this.” Logan said as he switches to the other nipples and grinds on you again.

You moan softly and nods your head. “Mmhm.” Logan stops swirling his tongue around your nipple and looks at you. “Use your word darling I really want to hear you want this.” Even though Logan knows the answer from the heavy breathing and the smell of you being turned on.

you look at Logan. “I want this I want you to make me feel so good.” Logan grins at the word giving your nipple one last suck before kissing down your stomach stopping by your sweatpants.

Logan pulls down your sweatpants as you lift up for him and see the damp spot on your underwear. “Shit already so wet for me.” Logan bites his lips at the sight and rubs his hand on the wet spot. “Logan.” you whimper as he teases you.

Logan smirks “Sound so pretty when you’re whimpering I wonder what you sound like when I really make you feel good with my cock.” he then pulls down you underwear leaving you completely bare you can see how Logan looks at you hungrily.

Logan then strips off his shirt and his pants and boxers revealing his throbbing cock with precum already dripping down. “Fuck you’re huge.” looks at him surprise. “Glad you think so darling.” he gets between your thighs and drags his fingers between your inner thighs making you have goosebumps.

Logan sees as you spread your legs. “I’m gonna prepare you before you take my cock.” before you could say anything he slips a fingers inside you making you gasp. “You feel so good with my fingers can’t wait till i feel you with my cock.” he starts a slow pace then he slowly goes faster and adds another finger.

as he fingers you you feel Logan thumb drawing circle around your clit going to the rhythm of him fingering you. “Oh god Logan!” you moaned out.“I think you’re ready for me.” Logan huffs out and takes his fingers out of you and taste you in his mouth.

You can feel Logan’s cock twitch against your thigh as he tastes you. “Fuck that was hot” you said Logan chuckles and goes back to pressing his body against yours kissing you roughly so you can taste yourself and breaks the kiss. “I hope you’re ready for my cock sweetheart.” you feel his tip rubbing against yours pussy lips. “I want it inside me Logan.” you grind against his cock.

That’s all Logan needed to hear he slowly puts his cock inside your pussy making both of you moan from the feeling Logan eyes roll back from the tightness and wetness around it.

He slowly thurst into you. “You’re taking me so well with your tight pussy fuck.” Logan pants he fills you up completely making you moan and Logan growls from how good this all feels and how good you look writhing underneath him and your pussy wrapped around your cock.

You wanted to feel him more you wrap your legs around him so he can go deeper. “Logan faster I want more.” Logan chuckles as your request. “You’re asking for it.” he then starts pounding into you like a wild animal you can hear the skin slapping against skin flesh sound hitting around the room.

Suddenly Logan stops his cock still buried inside you,you guys are both panting his locked on you looking at you like you guys were perfect to each other like this he rubs his thumb on your bottom lips looking at then his other hand cupping your face and he looks back to you and you were also looking Into his hazel eyes and lips after it seems like forever that you two were drinking into each other features he goes back to thrusting inside you

He can feel you getting close after he keeps senseless fucking you. “Gonna cum on my cock? Do it cum all over my cock.” As he keeps thrusting inside you he reaches between and plays with your clit faster. “Fuck I’m gonna-“ you cums on Logan’s cock he felt your pussy spasm on his cock making him cum too inside you.

He buries his head inside your neck as he painted your walls white after a while of you guys catching your breath he slowly takes his cock out your pussy and he sees his seed leaking out on your thigh as he rolls over you and lays next to you.

You look down and see the same thing. “I think I have a perfect way for you to clean this up.” you smirk. “Oh yeah? What is it?” Logan curiously ask. “By sitting on your face that’s how you can help clean it up.” you said boldly.

Logan then grabs your thigh immediately and pulls you onto his face you sink into his face and he swiped his tongue into your fold. “Logan fuck!” you tug on his hair he wraps his hairy arm around your thigh to keep you steady.

He mumbles as he eats you out. “You taste so good fucking hell.” you roll your eyes in pleasure as he’s eating you like a starving man licking every inch of you even slips his tongue further inside you. “You feel so good!” you manage to say.

You feel his nose brushing against your clit and also feel his beard nuzzle against your thigh and you start to grind on his face. “Mm fuck yeah use me baby!” Logan grunts occasionally you see Logan’s eyes closed to savor the feeling.

You feel yourself getting close and starts to ride his face more. “Come on be a good girl and cum all over my face!” just by those words you scream Logan’s name and cum on his face.

For a few second you sat on Logan’s face catching your breath then you flop down next to him and see him coated in your slick even seeing how his beard was dripping down with your cum it looked so damn good and he wipes his face with his fingers and taste you again in his mouth. “You feel and taste so good” he smirks as he looks at you and then away.

It was silence you didn’t know what to say so you start getting up and Logan grabs your arm. “Where you going?” You look at Logan. “Going back to my room since I don’t want to get up early to sneak back before anyone sees.” you explained he then pulls you in. “Stay with me tonight please? I promise I’ll behave for a little.” he wraps his arm around you.

You liked how he felt around you and you sighed. “Fine I’ll stay but let me shower and put on something comfy.” as you looked at him. “Fine I’ll let you go for now.” Logan dramaticlly says.

You get up and he smacks your bare ass you squeals then changes back to your clothes and goes to your room to shower and change and comes back to Logan’s room and see him in sweatpants and him being shirtless.

You went back to cuddling with Logan in bed as Logan rest his hands on to your hip. “Can we just sleep? You made me all tired out.” You say as you rub your hand on his hairy chest Logan chuckles. “We sure can sweetheart” he nuzzles against your neck you then you were fast asleep.

It was midnight Logan woke up to the sound of whimpering he sits up quick and see you thrashing around and you were sweating a lot. “No stop I don’t want to do this anymore!” you mumble Logan been through this road hell still is with having nightmares.

He wonders what type of nightmares you’re having since you both have different experiences he starts to shake you. “Darling you’re having a nightmare.” that just made it worse. “No stop!” You screamed.

He grabs you but your claws nails came out to scratch him obviously it hurts him a little he shakes you more eventually you wake up you’re panting and breathing heavily as it takes you a while to adjust what’s going on.

You look at Logan and looks at arm and see the scratch you made on him and looks at your nails and retracts them. “Lo-“ Logan interrupted you. “I’m fine and you know it, it’s gonna be gone in a few minutes.” he assures you.

You nod your head and hugs him and burst out crying he doesn’t try to tell you to get off he rubs your back soothing you letting you take your take to calm down.

You sniff and pulls away. “I remember everything they did to me…” you weren’t looking at Logan just at the wall. “Like what?” Logan curiously asked and you take a shudder breath. “Like how they burned me alive,drown me, forced me into a room where they could bomb the place just to see how indestructible I am.” Logan growled after you told him what they did to you. “Stryker and their fucking minion.” you swallowed hard. “At times I didn’t cooperate they hurt my family in front of me so it’s probably my fault they’re dead since I escaped.” tears starts to build up.

Logan grabs your chin to forcefully looks at him and lets go. “It’s not your fault those assholes tortured you it may seem harsh but at least you didn’t watch them die.” Logan was right you would’ve killed everyone there who tortured your family if you saw them being killed in front of you. “I’m kinda lucky that all I remember from being there is getting the adamantium being put in then I fought some people and escaped.” Logan said as those memories are in his nightmares.

You didn’t say anything for while till you decided to speak up again. “Were you serious about us sticking together?” As you look at him. “I always take my words seriously especially how I’m being here for you right now.” he affectionally squeezed your thigh.

You hug him. “Thank you Logan for calming me down.” Logan kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.” he then lays both of you down to cuddle again It was the comforting silence Logan running his fingers on your skin and you look at Logan. “Since I told you something personal mind telling me about you and Ororo situation?” Logan then chuckles as he reminiscing the past of him and storm before telling you.

I hope you guys liked it not sure if I’ll do a part 2 but if you have some idea comment it down below and I’ll figure something out 👀

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

I meant to have this fic done ages ago but it's now somehow three times as long as it was, I've rewritten it five times, and I'm still working on it 🫠 oh well. have a snippet from snickerdoodles.

@tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @belasmalhotra @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie continued from Wednesday

Eddie tries again, but still sounds rough and hollowed out. “I don’t want to drag you down. Okay? You should move on and forget me and— and it’ll be better.”

Not so much for Eddie. He’s never let go of anything in his life. It’s all there hiding under the surface, stuffed in cages. But Buck should move on. Buck should survive him. 

Is this their only future? It feels like losing everything. Eddie is losing everything. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he hasn’t already lost Chris. What if Eddie doesn’t survive this time? What will happen to everyone he loves? Everyone who loves him?

Does anyone love him? Does he mean anything to anyone? Has he ever meant anything?

“Forget— I should forget you?” Buck snaps, his anger un-contained fire now, not just a hint of smoldering kindling. Vicious, spitting, sparking, living flames that will turn everything to ashes. 

Maybe they should actually fight and say awful things and then it would be easier to walk away. 

Eddie’s not sure he could even manage that right now. There’s nothing left in him. No fight, no fire. It’s all shattered, scattered pieces. But he would try. If Buck needs that. 

He might need that. He snaps again, “Like you’re a pair of socks that disappeared in the laundry? Or something I meant to pick up at the store and spaced? Like it’s easy? Like you’re nothing? Like this? Us? You and me? Means nothing?”

Okay, when he puts it that way… it sounds dumb. But how else can Eddie stop hurting him? “No,” Eddie says. Not fiery, not loud, not anything. “No. Just. Something that doesn’t—”

“You're my best friend. You— you’re— I’ll let you go. Okay. Whatever. I’ll do that because I know you and I know you need Chris and I get it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything but love him exactly the way you do. But I won’t, will not and can not pretend that you aren’t my best friend and my partner and the person I love more than anything. All right? I’m not going to do that. I’ve spend years—literal— almost a whole decade of years loving you more than anything. I’m not going to just forget that or forget you. I’m not throwing that way. I’m not ever going to lie and say otherwise. This is not a ‘move on and grow out of it’ scenario. I love you more than anything in the world. Okay? You told me I wasn’t expendable and I had to deal with that so you have to deal with this. You mean everything to me and I love you, and that isn’t going to change even when you leave.”

“—hurt you,” Eddie finishes. It doesn’t really sound finished now. He says it because he was already saying it. 

But that the fuck does he say now? 

Eddie doesn’t usually think of himself as small, quiet, or fragile. But he feels like that now. His feeble words sound like it even in his own ears. Small. Inconsequential. Torn apart.

Buck steps back toward him. Not enough that they’re touching, but enough that they’re closer. “Hurt me. Drag me down. I don’t care.”

Eddie recoils. No. No, he hates that idea. He is not doing that. Not intentionally. Not. What the fuck. 

He knows he said the words. He said them because his mother said them and they stuck and haven’t left his head or his heart and it’s all he does. Ruin people he loves. 

Buck shakes his head. “Be in the way. Burden me. Share whatever weight you’re carrying. Be something that stays even if you’re not here. Be part of my life even if it hurts. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you to be something to me. Having nothing of you would be a hundred, thousand, million times worse. I am in this with you. I always have been. Don’t shut me out just to spare me. If you’re facing the fire, I want to be right there with you. Please don’t make me lose everything of you. Please don’t— please. Don’t pretend this is nothing. I can take you leaving, I can’t take this,” he motions between them, “meaning nothing.”

Eddie stares and doesn’t move. And stares harder like it will help him understand. 

He knows he’s breathing still because there’s air. 

Maybe he’s not breathing. But something is making air flow in and out of his body. Like rescue breaths? Supplemental oxygen? It’s not Eddie doing it, he’s not taking in air, but it happens anyway. 

He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never has. Maybe his brain stopped processing information when he stopped breathing because the brain can’t function without oxygen. Something like that. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t. 

Buck wants something of him even after everything? After all the people who have walked out on him and treated him like he doesn’t matter? Even with how Eddie fails and hurts people who care about him? He means something to Buck? Even though he’s hurting him and abandoning him and losing him? Eddie’s just another person who leaves him. He can’t hurt Buck. He can’t keep doing it. Buck doesn’t deserve this. And Eddie deserves no loyalty, no forgiveness. 

He doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. Not in any form. He shouldn’t have it. He’s never had it. 

“I don’t—” Eddie tries to say. He has to say. He has to make the words come out. “I don’t want to hurt you the way Abby hurt you. I don’t want to do that.” 

Buck shakes his head again and starts to say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “I know it’s not the same. I know I’m not— I know you don’t— It’s different. Still. I know how she hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to not do that. I’m leaving you here. In my house. Just like she did when she left you. And I have to—” Do the same fucking thing? Give him up? Walk away? Destroy everything they made together? And maybe the only way to survive is to do what Eddie does best and ruin everything? 

He looks back at Buck and doesn’t mean to say it. He wasn’t going to say anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He should be mean and nasty and he should tell Buck he means nothing, this means nothing, and then Buck can just be justifiably angry and hate Eddie properly. 

And it would spare him. Whatever pain and tragedy that is associated with being near Eddie. It would spare Buck. 

That’s what he should do. 

That would be mercy and kindness. Pick up the weapon and blow this all to hell. 

Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t do this. Any of it. 

He can’t let go. He can’t lose Buck. 

And then he’s suddenly confessing, “I don’t want to do this."

It’s too late. It’s always too late. And what he actually wants has never mattered. He doesn’t matter. He never has. He twists his hands together and has nothing else to hold onto. It’s too late, so none of this matters. Eddie doesn’t matter. But he meets Buck’s lost gaze, stares into his eyes for three seconds, and he can’t keep it in.

“I want to be with Chris. I miss him so much. Every minute of every day. But I don't want to leave here. I don't want this. But it doesn't matter what I want. It never has. The one time I said, 'What about me? Why didn't you think of me?' Chris left. He left because I hurt him. And my dad says, ‘don’t wait thirty years to listen to your son.’ So I listen. I don’t know what the hell else to do. I listen, and I do what all of them ask. Even when it’s the last thing I want and I’ve already said, no, please stop, I need more time, please hear me. They don’t listen to me. I’m still nothing to every single one of them. And I just keep thinking why don’t I ever count? Why don’t I matter even a little bit?

"You think you aren't everything to me, too? Do you think that I don't love you just as much as you love me? But I don’t get to pick you. I don’t get to have anything of you. I hurt everyone I try to love including you and Chris. I’m not enough for anyone, in any way. I can’t love anyone the way they need or the way I’m supposed to. You say you’re defective parts, well I’m fucking broken.

"That’s why you should forget me. I don’t matter. You shouldn’t care. I should mean nothing because I am nothing. I’m not worth this. If I were a better, stronger person, I’d make you hate me. But I can’t even do that. I don’t want to hurt you more. I have to lose you and I don’t know how to lose you. I love you more than anything and it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do but say, you should move on and forget me.”

Eddie turns away and covers his face, tries to hold his head because it’s aching. It’s too much. That was too much. He’s not supposed to be falling apart. Everything is supposed to be getting better. 

Shards of ice crack and fracture and break underneath him. Everything in the cage around his ribs snaps and he’s crying into his hands, trying to keep it together. Trying and failing. Always failing. His face is already wet. He was already broken. A long time ago. So many times. 

Buck is suddenly behind him. Not distant. Close behind him. He touches Eddie’s back gently and then steps around until he’s standing in front of him. He reaches between them and rests his hand on Eddie’s chest. As if he can stop the never-ending bleeding that’s somehow always pouring from Eddie’s heart. “You are enough, Eddie. You’re more than enough."

[getaandlucius]

A brief Taste of Honey (A Geta and Lucius love story)

Summary: Former emperor Geta survives but he now falls under Lucius’ regime. He gets severely injured and Lucius takes care of him.

Triggerwarnings: readers discretion adviced: heavy angst, describing physical injuries in detail, severe emotional stress, mentioning of death, unreliable narrator.

“Laurentius!” Lucius rushed through the halls when he saw his trusted guard enter. In Laurentius arms was Geta, limp and covered in blood, one arrow lodged in his midriff, the other just under his collarbone.

Lucius took Geta from the guards arms, his heart pounding. Geta was barely conscious, head hanging back, limbs unnaturally heavy. Lucius looked over his shoulder, searching for the healer.

“Ravi!” he called, but Pius rushed over instead.

“We’re ready. Follow me,”

They hurried to the infirmary, mercifully empty due to the lull in battles over the past week.

“Lay him down on his back,” Ravi said, only looking up briefly as he was busy with cleaning the tools. He pointed next to him. “The bed over here.” Lucius walked over and lay him down gently, a hand in his neck for support.

“Leave the chains for now.' Ravi added. 'We’ll work around them. Pius, disinfect the knife. And get me some vinegar.” Pius nodded and went to work.

Lucius’ eyes rested on Geta laying in the bed, his stomach churning at the sight of his broken body, feeling like he failed him somehow. He looked away as Ravi began cleaning the skin around the arrow lodged in Geta’s flesh, his hands steady but swift.

“I’m going to work the tip of the first arrow free,” Ravi told Geta who had stirred awake when the wound was being cleaned. “It’ll hurt when I remove it but I have to ask you not to move.' Geta only stared back at him blankly, limbs shaking faintly. He then closed his eyes again and gave a faint nod.

Ravi leaned in some more. “I’m giving you some devil’s breath and opium to dull the pain, all right?” His voice was gentle.

Lucius’s heart felt heavy knowing what was to come. He was no stranger to death and lethal injury, but unlike the soldiers Lucius had known—muscular, scarred, hardened by years of battle—Geta had no protective layer, and zero reserves. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, and now the pain and blood loss were overwhelming him. His breathing grew shallow, his chest rising and falling in quick, erratic bursts. He struggled to inhale the devil’s breath, trembling violently.

Lucius felt his knees weaken. They would have to cut around the arrow to free it from Geta’s abdomen, while he was still fully conscious. Lucius came to stand closer to him, his hipbone resting against the edge of the bed. Reaching out he stroked the hair from Geta's forehead.

Pius handed Ravi the knife, its gleam cold under the infirmary’s dim light.

'It's okay.' Lucius said softly as Ravi pushed the tip in, next to the arrow.

Geta whimpered, his face crumpling in pain. He pressed his cheek into Lucius’ palm, as if his touch could ease the suffering. Lucius stroked his thumb over the smooth skin of his cheekbones.

“Look at me,” Lucius demanded.

Geta’s eyes fluttered open, the focus there but distant, as if he were fighting to stay conscious. Lucius held his gaze, willing him to stay grounded in the moment.

“You’ll be okay,” Lucius said to Geta as much as himself. “It’ll be okay. Keep looking at me.”

Geta didn’t answer, but his gaze stayed fixed, even as his breathing became more labored.

Ravi’s knife pressed deeper, and Geta gasped, the sound a ragged, desperate thing.

“Shh,” Lucius murmured as tears pooled at the corners of Geta's eyes. “It's okay.'

But with each passing second, Geta’s grip on consciousness slipped further. His breaths became shallow and erratic, his body growing colder to the touch. He turned his face into Lucius’ hand again which was such a vulnerable and desperate gesture, Lucius felt a wave of guilt and failure. He shouldn't have left him there. He should have taken Geta with them instead of leaving Laurentius to deal with it. And he should not have taken back the harness. Lucius himself could fight, and the arrows wouldn't have buried as deep. Geta's was the most vulnerable target of them all and yet Lucius had taken the harness from him without giving that much thought.

'It's too cold here.' Lucius stated as he felt Geta's skin grow even colder.

Ravi shook his head. 'That's good. Lowers the chance of infection.' He replied with a clipped voice in full concentration.

Time seemed to stretch, endless, as Ravi worked to remove the first arrow. Geta’s consciousness flickered in and out, his grip on reality weakening with each wave of pain.

When Geta went completely still and made no sound at all anymore, Lucius felt a sickening knot form in his stomach. His eyes flickered to the blood coming from the open wound as the arrow came out, then back to Geta's face and he filled with dread.

Geta was not going to make it.

----

By the time Ravi began to stitch up the first wound, Geta’s body was completely limp. His face rested heavily against Lucius’ hand, eyes closed, lashes dark against skin that had drained of all color.

Lucius fingers drifted over Geta's skin to the pulse point below his ears, feeling the thrumming weakening little by little.

Lucius kept whispering that it would be okay, kept stroking his cheeks and his silky-soft hair, even though Geta was not aware of his surroundings anymore.

He kept doing this as the morning came. The unusual chill of the April night leaked away a little as the sun came up, casting soft light on the infirmary.

Soft sounds drifted in from outside, and somehow Geta was still here.

Both wounds had now been stitched and cleaned and Lucius himself began struggling more and more against the heaviness of his eyelids. At some point he had dropped to his knees, forearms resting heavily on the bed.

'Hopefully he stays asleep for some more hours.' Ravi said as he cleaned the blood of his skin with water and a clean cloth. 'I'll watch him, Lucius. Go take a bath and get some sleep.'

Lucius shook his head. 'No. Not yet.'

Geta was still on the brink of death, testing the will of the Gods. Lucius, who was not a particularly religious man, kept finding himself praying for Geta’s survival. His throat closed with panic every time he checked for a pulse, afraid to find only stillness. These were the most crucial hours. If Geta’s wounds became infected, he wouldn’t survive it. Lucius stared at Geta’s sleeping form, knowing how hard his body was fighting to stay alive.

But then afternoon came and as much as he had tried to fight it, Lucius had fallen into a light slumber.

When He woke again, he had a thrumming headache and his throat was dry as sand. He looked around him in disorientation and realized Ravi was gone. He shot up, filled with adrenaline and reached out to feel Geta's skin. It was cold. But not too cold. And it wasn't feverish either. Lucius sighed in relief.

Geta was lying completely still, no hint of movement. His face was still contorted, the muscles in his jaw tight, but that also meant he was still with them. Lucius rubbed his hand along the length of Geta's arm, trying to warm up his skin a little, then took his left hand in his own and gently worked out some of the stiffness in his fingers.

As he was repeating it on his right side, Ravi reentered.

'He is doing remarkebly well.' Ravi stated as he checked the stitches, surprise apparent in his voice.

Lucius nodded. What God had favored him this night, he did not know.

'Get some rest Lucius.' Ravi told him again. Lucius nodded now, too weak to object. 'Okay.'

He looked at Geta's sleeping face one last time, then turned on his heel and headed over to the bath house.

He cleaned himself of the dirt, sweat, and remnants of Geta’s blood before lowering his body into the hot, steamy water. He felt the weight of exhaustion and stress pulling at him.

How was Geta still here? Was he going to make it?

Lucius submerged his head below the water surface, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the guilt he felt. Though it wasn’t precisely his fault, Geta had been left behind. And judging from the spotless skin Lucius had seen earlier that week in the bathhouse, Geta had never had such physical trauma. This also meant he did not know how to shield his mind from it, which was something you taught yourself after a while of going through it again and again. It never fully left, but the dent became less deep. With Geta, this would tear all the way into him, damaging his trust in the people around him as well as himself, strengthened by the confrontation with his own vulnerability. He did not know how to defend himself.

Lucius pulled his body out of the water and dried off.

Dressed in a freshly washed set of clothing he hadded back to the infirmary.

“Nothing much has changed, Lucius,” Ravi said immediately as he entered.

“Is Geta still okay?”

“Yes. Unconscious, but stable." Then he added, “Augustus is looking for you though.”

“Oh?”

“He’s waiting in the council room. Something about an issue with Britannia.”

Lucius nodded, his eyes drifting back to Geta's bed. He walked over to check, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt Geta’s skin was warmer, closer to a normal temperature.

“I’ll check on him again later tonight.”

Ravi nodded.

Lucius quickly made his way to the council room, where Augustus and Marcus were already waiting. There were indeed new issues in Britannia, but more worryingly, the Dacians were trying to expand into the northern territories, which was rapidly becoming a real threat. Preparations would be needed for another campaign.

Lucius had a hard time focusing on war strategy. His mind kept drifting back to Geta, hoping he would wake up soon and not drift off in an eternal sleep without any warning. But his gut was telling him something was wrong.

The meeting took hours, and afterwards he felt so drained he could barely stay upright. He had slept around two hours in the last forty, and the overload of stress was eating on him. He cracked his neck and rubbed his temples, the headache from that afternoon coming up again. Only then he realized he hadn't eaten at all that day.

He headed over to check on Geta before trying to get some sleep. Maybe he would just crash in one of the beds there.

The infirmary was dimly lit and quiet. There had come in three soldiers from a small incident at Ostia and Ravi and Pius were busy treating their injuries. Geta was till laying in exact the same position, still fully asleep. At first he thought the colour had returned in Geta's face, but as he came closer, he noticed is was just redness in his cheeks. Worried Lucius and put a hand on his forehead, checking for a fever. His skin felt warm. Not hot precisely, but there definitely had been a significant temperature rise. Lucius frowned, angry Ravi had not noticed this yet or paid any attention to him.

'Ravi?' He called out.

'Not now Lucius.' Ravi shook his head, focused on his work.

Lucius’ frustration grew as he turned back to Geta. He felt his neck, then he hands. He was definitely warmer than before, much higher than his own temperature. The brief sense of relief Lucius had felt earlier was washed away by a new wave of panic. He grabbed Geta's shoulder and started shaking him, first softly, then harder.

“Wake up,” he tried to keep calm, but his voice sounded strange, distant.

“Geta, wake up.” He could not bear the thought of Geta quietly passing away in his sleep.

He shook his shoulder again, but Geta’s eyes remained closed. Lucius put his hand on his cheek, which seemed to burn now. He barely noticed when someone grabbed his arm and started pulling him away.

“Come, Lucius. Leave him be.” It was Pius.

Lucius shook his head. 'He has a fever. He needs to wake up to fight it off.'

'No he does not. Let him sleep.' Pius put his body between him and Geta. 'There is no visible infection. If he has a fever it might stem from deeper in the tissue and we cannot do anything, or it might stem from internal bleeding in which case we are also unable to help.'

'We can always do something.' Lucius pressed.

'We are not opening up the wound again Lucius.' Pius voice was stern. 'You and I know both know that is way too big a risk.' Lucius eyes drifted back to Geta, whose breathing was suspiciously steady and had a falsely healthy glow from his body’s internal heat fighting off whatever issue had arisen.

Lucius realized Pius’s hands were resting on his chest, as if to hold him back. “If you’re going to try to wake him again,” Pius said, “I will have to ask you to leave.”

Lucius’s gaze went from Geta back to Pius. He nodded.

“Okay.”

Pius’s hands dropped to his sides and sighed. “Good.”

Lucius noticed now how exhausted Pius was too. They both had dark circles and that faint drunken air that came from sleeping too little and skipping meals.

'I'll make you a bed next to his.' Pius said. Lucius nodded, struck by the limitless kindness of the man.

Later that night Lucius was under the covers propped up on his side. He was trying to stay awake but his body kept betraying him, throwing him off a cliff of exhaustion until he finally succumbed to dreamless sleep.

When he woke it was in the middle of the night. And Geta was awake. The infirmary was ink-black, there was no sound but Geta's pained whimpering, echoing softly off the walls. Lucius rushed over, struggling to find his way through the darkness.

'What is wrong.' He demanded, feeling around the bedlinnen to find where Geta lay. When he found an arm, Lucius noted in disappointment that his skin was still feeling too hot.

Then he heard Geta starting to sob softly.

'It hurts.' He said, sounding so helpless.

Lucius nodded, even though he couldn't see it. He blindly pushed the hair off Geta's forehead just as he had done that morning. 'I know sweetheart.' He said in a low voice. This made Geta only sob more.

Then suddenly Ravi appeared in the darkness with a torch, stirred awake by Geta's pained outcries.

'I'll give you some devils breath.' He reassured Geta and disappeared briefly before returning with the smoky substance. They helped Geta up a bit and watched him take small breaths to inhale the pain relief.

Geta kept on crying as he struggled not to cough.

Lucius left hand was in his neck, the other on the back of his head. The muscle in his biceps began to strain from over-exertion. Then Ravi told him to lay him back down and Lucius stretched his muscles in relief.

'It still hurts.' Geta said after a while, voice rough and high-pitched. Lucius took his clammy hand in his and nodded. 'I know. I know.'

Geta's free hand went up to feel at the linnen cloth covering the wound on his abdomen, then his collarbone.

'It's bad. Is it not?' His brown eyes flickered to Ravi, who nodded pitifully. 'Yes.'

This evoked a new wave of sobs.

Lucius frowned, annoyed at Ravi's bluntness. Crying was not going to help, and Lucius was reaching the limit of pain and distress he could handle seeing.

'Am I going to die?' Geta's eyes were not on Ravi anymore but were now glued on Lucius'. Lucius shook his head. 'You will not.' He kneeled next to his bed, Geta's hand still wrapped in his.

'Where death is, you are not. Where you are, death is not. You are protected. And you will make it through.' His voice was stead-fast. He bore his eyes into Geta's. 'Do you hear me?' Geta nodded, eyes not leaving his. And they stayed there until Ravi wished them both good night and Geta fell into a restless sleep again.

Lucius did not shut an eye, watching over him until the morning came again.

Next part:  part 6

[rotten-pomegranate]

Good morning 🌞, since requests are open, can I please get head cannon ask for how the adult trio with feitan, shalnark and phinks would react if reader successfully escaped them for years. Please I want reader to win just once 😭🙏🏾

Yes you can 💪🏻

I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to catch you in the end but I made like that

Warnings: mentions of torture, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Feitan

Feitans gonna be pissed and offended that you have so little respect for him you escaped and when he finds you it’s hell

you should have killed yourself when you got away because the things he’s gonna do to you and Any friends you made along the way will make death seem like the better option by a lot

You don’t get any privileges your always chained up and you only get enough food and water to survive

He was being nice before, holding himself back, but not anymore now he does anything and everything he wants

Shalnark

He’s gonna be sad he knows he wasn’t the best but was he that bad?

He’s gonna track you down eventually, probably one of the quickest to find you, I’m talking three years or so

When he finds you he just mocks you, like you really thought he wouldn’t find you how cute

He’s gonna stick you with antenna a lot more often to make you do stuff you would never willingly do and he’s gonna make sure you remember every bit of it

Phinks

He’s heartbroken, you didn’t love him? Sure he kidnapped you but he was so nice, he got you gifts, fed you, never forced you to do anything and he let you do whatever you wanted in the fairly big house (he’s a but Delusional)

He’s a close second to shalnark when it comes to finding you in sense of time give or take about three and a half years

When he does find you he’s not gonna be as nice as he was before, your not gonna get sweet little gifts or the privilege to go around the house freely and he’s not gonna brush off your attitude anymore, from now on your getting locked away when you give him any sass

Chrollo

even though he tried his hardest to prevent it He knew it would happen eventually, he let his guard slip gave you to much freedom

It’s gonna take him about five years to find you because he has to focus on other stuff such as the troupe

When he gets you back your never gonna see the light of day again, your locked I and chained In his basement from now on and while it’s a nice basement with carpeted floors, a nice bathroom and a big bed with lots of fluffy blankets that he often joins you in your only there for his pleasure now

He regularly pins you down and forces you to do stuff that he didn’t make you do before whispering how it Could be different the whole time

Illumi

Illumi is savage, has every person in the zoldyck manor out looking for you and that intensity doesn’t go down if anything it gets worse the longer it takes to find you

It’ll take him about four years to find you and when he does your in for it

First he’s gonna beat you black and blue, he’s gonna break both you legs in the process and that’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to see a doctor about

He’s gonna try and get you pregnant as soon as he can and if you where kicking and screaming before he would have stopped but not anymore now your getting tied to the bed frame and having a gag in your mouth

Hisoka

He’s the calmest out of all of them, he knew it would happen, he’s not happy about it but he’s not a total mess like some of these guys

It’s not his top priority to find you but it is up there, so it’s gonna take him about seven years to find you

When he finds you your getting the beating of a life time, I’m talking broken ribs, and kicked out teeth, he will pay machi to come fix you up but he might do it again if you annoy him

He didn’t hit you before but he does now, oh you dropped a glass worth ten bucks? Your getting smacked up side the head

And lastly from now on when you sleep it’s on the cold ground with a chain leash attached to his bed frame around your neck no more comfortable pillows

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[togrowoldinv]

It’s All Her Fault

Firefighter!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha comes home from work, she begs you to shower with her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N receiving), a very naked and teasing Natasha

Note: Hehe. Catch up on firefighter Nat here

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When Natasha gets home from her double shift, she finds you in the kitchen. She can tell from the smell that you’re cooking one of her favorites, but she has other plans in mind.

“Hey sweetheart,” she says loud enough that you can hear it over the music you have playing.

“Natasha, I missed you!” You greet her.

You turn around to hug her but she’s still covered in dirt from work. She usually showers at the firehouse.

“No hug?” She pouts when you step back.

“You’re still all dirty, babe,” you say. “Go shower and I’ll finish up dinner.”

“Or,” Natasha begins, a smirk on her perfect lips. “You could join me in the shower?”

The offer is tempting. There’s not much you love more than seeing Natasha’s body under the stream of a hot shower.

“The food will be ruined,” you reason. “And I made your favorite.”

“Mhm, okay. I guess I’ll just go shower all alone. And wash my own body and my own hair,” Natasha says, her voice feigning disappointment.

You watch as Natasha leaves the room. She keeps the bathroom door open as she undresses. You can’t see much from your angle, but you see enough you can’t fight the urge to join her anymore.

Turning off the burner, you pray the food might survive the time you’re gone. You go into your bedroom and to the bathroom. Your clothes join hers on the floor before you open the shower door.

The glass was fogged up already from the heat of her shower, so you don’t see her until you’re inside.

“I knew you’d join me,” Natasha says with a grin.

“Yeah well, who was I to deny my wife this pleasure?”

Natasha chuckles and you look her over. Her shoulders are toned more every day, you swear. You want to reach out and touch her breasts, but you’re not sure if it’s that kind of shower yet. The water runs down her abdomen and over her tattooed ribcages.

“Like what you see?” Natasha asks.

You still feel a blush from her words even after years of being together.

“I just don’t know how you’re so perfect,” you tell her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Come here,” Natasha says, reaching her hand out for you.

You take it and she pulls you into a hug. Your body pressed against her wet one is an interesting sensation, but you don’t mind it. She tends to always need a long hug after a hard shift, and you always oblige.

But as things with Natasha often take a turn for fun, she rests her hands over your backside. She squeezes softly as she readjusts to look you in the eyes.

“Hi,” you say, feeling extremely seen under her gaze.

“Hey,” she replies.

Natasha kisses you slowly. Almost excruciatingly so. Her mouth and tongue set out to memorize the feeling of you against her. Your breasts brush against hers as she deepens the kiss.

“Natasha,” you mumble against her lips.

She moves her kisses to your neck. Your hands wonder over her abdomen, tracing every defined muscle.

“Natasha, I want to take care of you,” you say, voice breathless from the feeling of her so close to you.

Nat pulls away and puts soap on a rag. She hands it to you. You didn’t intend for that to be how you took care of her, but it’ll do.

You wash her arms and chest first. It’s a simple act, but your hands linger on her breasts long enough that she feels heat between her legs.

Natasha tries to stop you from washing the rest of her body and instead wants you to pleasure her.

“I have to finish what I started, babe. You can wait,” you tell her.

She rarely lets you be in control, but this is one of those times she allows it. You wash her legs and again you linger in certain areas. Especially around her thick thighs, butt, and between her legs.

You take your time, making sure she feels every inch of your touch. It’s enough to make her crazy.

“Please,” she practically whimpers once you hang the rag up to dry.

“I thought you only wanted me to wash your body?” You tease her. She shakes her head.

“No. I want to ride your face and I think you should agree,” Natasha says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You smile and drop to your knees. The water won’t be hot much longer, so you get to work fast. Natasha, as promised, moves her hips over your face. The hero is calling your name and coming within minutes.

You stand back up and Natasha kisses you again. It’s rougher this time, but you don’t mind. You kiss her until you can’t anymore.

Once you pull away, you clean her up with a rag. The water is getting cold, so you reach around her and turn it off.

Nat wraps herself in a towel and you join her in the bedroom. She kisses your forehead when you sit next to her on the edge of the bed in a towel of your own.

“Thank you,” Natasha says, resting her forehead against yours. “You helped me forget about everything bad that happened on my shift.”

“You’re welcome, baby. I try to make sure you’re good after a double,” you explain.

“I know. You even made me dinner-“

“Oh shit! Dinner,” you remember the food on the stovetop.

You run out of the bedroom and to the kitchen to see the food is burned. It’s not terrible, but you might as well call it ruined.

Natasha laughs from the doorframe and you give her a pretend angry look.

“It’s all your fault,” you say.

“Aww, let me make it up to you,” Natasha says. She drops the towel that was around her body and waltzes back into the bedroom.

Who needs dinner anyways?